#like a certain someone signature color | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvlyhyunjin · 2 months

Text

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Thirty-One - Wish you could stay.

warnings; smut (degrading names, fingering and thigh riding) and as always sprinkles of angst. playlist: lust for life by lana del rey

p.s pls ignore any spelling errors or grammar errors i'm a little delirious

w.c: 6k

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Time seemed to be your enemy, swearing to leave you suffering in a puddle of your own arousal. It moves agonizingly slow. Taunting you with a smirk of victory every time you looked at your phone only for it to stay the same.

“I just want us to go back to the way we used to be, you know?” Wooyoung speaks from next you, sitting side by side in one of his comfy cream colored couch. The almost empty bottle of wine on the table is the only evidence of time ever ticking by. You’re not insane just yet.

“I want that too,” you reply, not as genuine as you would like to be. Not because you didn’t want it but because your attention is stolen by another certain someone.

“But Yeosang is making it harder than I’d like.” You continue in a distant voice, eyes on the lit screen of your phone. Just 11 more minutes. Wooyoung huffs, head falling back on the couch, looking stressed enough to get a glimpse of your attention “I tried to talk some sense into him the other day. Hopefully that did something to his brain.”

“I hope so too.”

Wooyoung dawns the rest of his remaining wine, placing his empty glass right next to your full one. A comfortable silence fills the dark room and is immediately interrupting by the sound of a message coming from your phone. Your hand gravitas towards it right away.

I’m outside.

Two simple words have your heart skipping beats as if you’re on the verge of dying.

“Well, I better head home,” you announce, standing up from the couch and Wooyoung follows. Guiding you to the door with a yawn falling from his lips “Lover boy is already here?” You slap his chest with little to no impact behind it “He’s not my lover,” you defend weakly, a pink blush already coloring your cheeks.

“Uh huh,” he muses, leaning on the wall as he watches you put your shoes back on. You stay silent, letting yourself dwell over the word a little longer than what would your heart deem safe.

Lover. Could Hyunjin ever be your lover after everything you guys have been through?

“Take this it’s freezing outside.” Wooyoung voice pulls you out of your thoughts again, dangling in front of you like a hook you so desperately cling to. Just so you don’t give room for false hope to plant itself inside of you.

You look at the piece of clothing that’s being offered to you, a simple blue jacket that you have seen on Wooyoung multiple times. It reeks of his signature Dior cologne. Masculine and thick. Hyunjin’ texts from a couple of days ago swirls around in your mind, cosplays itself into temptations and dares you to take it.

Don’t you dare come out in his fucking clothes.

“Thank you.” You nod, taking the jacket from his hands and putting it on, it hangs loosely around your shoulders. Too big for you and Wooyoung grins at you.

If you were going to meet up with the devil might as well have him take you on a trip to hell.

“Take care Kitty,” his hand ruffles your hair, leaving your dark hair a mess atop of your head “you too puppy” you reply, a pinch to his cheek has him slapping your hand away with a groan.

Hyunjin is waiting outside, minho’s motorcycle that he seems to drive more than said owner is used again as leverage for him to lean on. His arms are crossed on his chest. His expression is stoic as if he himself has not been counting the minutes just to see you. As if he hadn’t come here 15 minutes early and waited for you like a kid. A twitch of his brows is the only given of annoyance he lets break free.

Hyunjin feels something akin to a monster he tried to keep locked break free inside of him. Perhaps he underestimated you, didn’t expect his angel to join in this game of push and pull you always seem to fall into. The monster feeds on the sight of you in a jacket that so clearly doesn’t belong to you, doesn’t fit you. It sinks its claw in his soul, spreading anger in his veins.

“Come here, pretty.” He taunts like the sweet devil he is, eyes narrowing as they flick to Wooyoung who’s watching you from behind. He’s being ridiculous, he realizes that. But this monster latched itself onto him like a parasite. And maybe he was a showoff, maybe he wanted to show Wooyoung how he takes back what belongs to him and that’s why he outstretched his palm out to you, offering his hand for you take.

He knows you will come to him; you always do. However, he does not expect you to run to him. He does not expect you to throw yourself at him like you’re offering, and he does not expect you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him. The scent of wooyoung’s cologne chokes him, nausea builds quickly in the pit of his stomach. The monster tells him to rip it off you.

“Jinnie.” You breathe out in his neck, your voice is a sweet melody that manages to steal his breath every single time. He’s dizzied even when his hands fall naturally to your waist, even when he’s pulling you closer to him as if he wants to blend your bodies together. His mind is racing because you never initiated physical touch before this. All these past weeks he has been the one to touch you first, hands lingering everywhere on your body. Leaving the ghost of his fingers on your skin.

“Missed me?” he asks, voice thick with emotions and throat running dry. He needs to drink you in.

“I did,” you answer truthfully. Leaning back just enough to look up at him with a smile adorning your beautiful face. He keeps his expression cold, eyes fliting to the messy strands of your hair, another painful evidence of wandering hands that had touch you “mhm,” his fingers run through your hair, taming them back into place and you lean into his touch. Warmth spreads in your blood warning of the love threatening to poison you. You don’t listen and your nose nuzzles Hyunjin’s cheek. Behind you, Wooyoung walks back into his apartment complex with slumped shoulders.

The ride to your house is quiet, no room for words over the roaring engine of the motorcycle. You keep your palm sprawled on the right side of his chest, atop of his heart. It beats under your hand and as you’re hugging his back an overwhelmingly selfish need wash over you. You wish his heart wouldn’t beat this way for anyone aside from you. An enormous urge to steal his heart away, maybe hide it in a chest and bury it in a spot no one knows aside from you. It feels like the only way you’d ever find security.

The end was inevitable. Your time with Hyunjin was like a ticking clock casting a shadow over you, constantly reminding you of how you’re running out of time. How Hyunjin is only growing further away from you and all you could do is stand still and wait. Wait for him to someday look back at you and walk back to you. And even when he does the clock resets itself. It’s just another round of unavoidable pain for you, fuck ups that will only bury your feet deeper into this beach of sand you can’t leave. You welcome it, each time. You sacrifice your heart, pretending to be the strongest soldier of an army that only involves you. And Hyunjin will chew on your heart sweetly, sink his teeth into it until you’re bleeding and leaving you in disarray.

Just like when you’re eighteen you’ll let go of him first. He’ll cry but soon enough he’ll be walking away and just like that you go back to your place, standing alone on the beach of your memories and you wait. You wait for the clock to restart and another round of misery to unleash itself at you. But you’ll welcome it.

As if sensing your distress Hyunjin’s hand is on your thigh when you stop by a red light, Large and warm, his fingers sink into the plump flesh of your clad thigh. He looks back at you over his shoulder. The visor of his helmet deprives you of what kind of expression he’s making. He squeezes your thigh as if he knows as if he’s asking.

Are you okay?

You find yourself wishing you weren’t this mess of unspoken words, you wish weren’t this being of immense anxiety that never seems to settle down, never seems satisfied. If only you weren’t egocentric enough to constantly crave more from the boy in front of you. Your palm is on top of his, squeezing back.

I’m okay.

The street of your house is quiet and dimly lit by the countless streetlights cosplaying itself as a path, to them it’s heaven and to you it’s nothing but hell. You loiter by Hyunjin’s back, taking faux interest in the dying flowers at your front porch. Hyunjin watches you as if it’s his favorite hobby, as if he’s admiring his favorite piece of art and he isn’t in the middle of a space he doesn’t belong to. He is motionless, doesn’t say anything as if to punish you for all the little shit you pulled tonight.

Your top teeth sink into your bottom lip swallowing back a whimper of guilt that’s begging to escape. Lured by the ice in his eyes. Your fingers curl around his, your warmth overtakes him “You wanna come in?” you ask with a tilt of your head, he isn’t sure if the color in your cheeks is left there by the cold or if you’re blushing. Hyunjin pretends to think, tilts his head in a mirroring manner to yours and keeps his gaze locked on you. He stalls, eyes hooded as he watches you grow more anxious by the second. You’re fidgeting as if you’re slowly breaking, your nails start to dig into his palm leaving red marks behind. It’s so sweet, even your impatient anger is sweet.

“What about your parents?”

“They’re probably sleeping,” your stare flit across your large house, darkening windows are a comfort to your assumption “we have just to be quiet.”

Hyunjin tugs you forward with your hand, your chest collides with his and he’s so close, his lips are so close “yeah? You think you can do that?” your eyes flicker to his lips as if it’s where it was always supposed to be “can you be quiet?” he sarcastically asks, clearly not looking for an answer by the way, his lips curl into a smirk. The dampness of your underwear is only a reminder of the effect this man has on you.

“I can be quiet.” You whisper, your voice alone is enough to melt mountains of ice in his heart, but he keeps his demeanor the same. The mutual understanding of what those words exactly mean swim between you two. Tempting him to take you against the back of his motorcycle, fuck you in the open and not care if some old rich lady comes out of one those houses and calls the cops on him. Going to jail for fucking you sounds fitting.

“Sure then,” he replies with a non-committal shrug. A vagueness he hopes to have you overthinking just so he could take place in your mind.

You take him by surprise once again when you intertwine your fingers with his and tug him towards the door with a smile that’s too pretty for the situation you are in. He finds himself breathless, wondering how you manage to do it. How are you both soft and alluring. How are you the cause of the fastening oscillation of his heart and the poisons treat of his darkening desires.

Hyunjin places himself on your bed comfortably, as if he belongs there. His palms are flat on the bed as he leans back. Eyes feral and heavy as you stand by the door awkwardly as if this isn’t your room. As if you’re an intruder. Hyunjin tilts his head, his legs spreading wide apart as if it’s calling for you.

“Come here, pretty.” He whispers an order in the quietness of your room. A mischievous glint sets his dark eyes alight as the blush spreading across your face deepens.

“Take that fucking jacket off.” He snarls when you take two steps towards him. A rush of heat blooms in your underwear at his tone, fiery and dominate. You nod, eyes wide in innocence that only fuels him further. You shrug the jacket off you in quick movements. Suddenly growing exceedingly hot. The fabric burns your skin as it falls on the floor right next to your feet.

Hyunjin looks somewhat satisfied at how fast you listen to him, with his silence you take permission to walk to him. You stand before him, looking down at him through your thick lashes. Emotions fighting against each other on which one gets to display itself on your face. Love is stronger than anything you’ve ever wished to feel. Despite the growing warmth of your body, the wetness collecting uncomfortably against the fabric of your underwear. Leaving clear evidence of your hunger for Hyunjin. Love still wins, climbs on top and spreads its tenderness on your face. Its softness in the flickers of color in your eyes.

Hyunjin sees it all, basks in your ever building devotion for him, his own obsession finds its way between the cracks of your innocence and nestles itself there, promises to imprint himself on your soul just so you won’t ever look at someone the way you’re looking at him right now.

“Sit.” His large hand envelopes the side of your hip, warm and possessive as it adds unnecessary heat to your already burning body. He tugs you with a guide towards his thigh and you follow, straddling it. Your arms find their way around his neck, as if they always have waited for this moment. Waited to take their claim on the blonde boy you always seemed to yearn for.

Hyunjin’s hand travels from your hips to your hair, leaving goosebumps to bloom behind, an arch in your back that has his eyes hooded. He brushes through the soft strands of your hair taking his sweet time as you start to squirm on his lap. The pressure of his thigh against your clothed sex is driving you insane. He finds it entertaining; you can tell.

“Ah! You cry out in both pain and surprise when his hand tugs at your hair, the stinging pain spreads through your skull leaving behind a delicious wave of arousal that settles in the pit of your stomach.

“You think this is funny?” he muses, no need to explain what he’s talking about because you know. You always know. Your mouth waters at the way his mouth hardness, a betrayal of the imitation indifference he likes to wear. You shake your head, as best as you can in the hold he has on your hair. He tugs harder and you mewl, looking at him with watering eyes.

“No?” he tuts, jutting his bottom lip in a mocking pout that is quickly replaced with a knife-like stare “talk.” You let out a shaky breath, hyper aware of his hands on you, in your hair. His thigh against your cunt. Your legs shake in aching need for him.

“I-it’s not funny.” You answer with a broken whimper when his fingers loosen their grip on your strands. Leaving your body completely to resume their original position on the bed. He watches in amusement as your hands scramble to hold onto him, your nails digging in his clothed shoulders. He wishes you could dig them in his bare skin.

“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” Hyunjin scoffs, addressing your poor attempts at making him jealous, misplaced hope to get a reaction out of him. You avoid his eyes, turning your face when the eye contact only seems to water your already growing humiliation.

He slightly bounces his leg earning a breathy gasp from your parted lips, so pretty it makes him dizzy. You lose your grip on sanity, the need for him overwhelms your senses and your hips start to move against his thigh, rolling into the rough fabric between you. The sensations are so dulled by your clothes, the pressure on your core is barely there, it tips you even further into insanity.

Hyunjin chuckles, humorless and cruel. Trying to be a villain he will never be “Acting like a bitch in heat. Grinding against my thigh while I’m still talking, are you that desperate?” you shake your head, can’t make sense of what exactly you’re denying at this point. Hyunjin hums absentmindedly, his fingers thumb at the button of your shirt “What did you and Wooyoung talk about all night?” he unbuttons the first one giving you room for your breathing to deepen. Your hips increase in speed, running after a release that seems to be slipping further and further away. You whine in frustration not registering a word that has come out of his mouth.

He bounces his leg again, sending wave of shock to your core, has your hips stuttering with a soft moan. It’s cut off by his hand tapping lightly against your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to have you dripping. You open your eyes to look at his colder ones, tears of impatience cloud your vision. But not enough for them to spill.

“What?” You sputter, pink splashing across your face like spilled wine.

“What did you and Wooyoung talk about? Tell me.” He thumbs at your second button; the lace of your bra teases him with a chant to take you. Your hips halt their movement, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as to why he’s bringing this up now.

Hyunjin can’t help himself, can’t help the urge that nudges the monster inside of him any longer. Lurching forwards he buries his face in your chest, the scent of your bodywash engulfs him, washing over the disgusting cologne that had cling to your button up shirt. His hands are back on your hips, a bruising grip that guides you back and forth. Encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m being so nice, kitty. Letting you use me like this” he speaks against your skin; it vibrates through your whole being. His warm breath leaving shivers all over your body “the least you could do is answer me yeah?” he hums, placing an open mouth kissed right at the top of your breasts. Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulder, scrunching up the fabric of his grey jacket under your fingers.

“A-a lot.” You answer vaguely, stupidly hoping that it will end then. It doesn’t

“Like what?” He continues his trail of assaulting kisses up your neck, the sounds only add fuel to the fire inside of you. He sucks particularly hard at the side of your neck, and you turn your head with a mewl. Allowing him space, hoping for a mark to be left behind.

“W-we talked about- ah” he bites your earlobe with a grin, pulls it just to watch the way your eyes flutter shut prettily “about Yeosang.”

“What about him?” His tone is monotone, despite the trail of blossoming cherry blossoms he leaves on your neck. The loving touch of his hands as they climb up to your bra. Toying with the clasp. You can’t think straight you feel like everything shouldn’t feel this intense, this tortures.

“Hyunjin.” you plea.

“You’re not hiding stuff from me, are you?” he warns, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra.

“I’m not,” you whimper with a shake of your head, the cold overwhelms you, has your nipples hardening and you throw yourself forward, hugging him and burying your face in his neck. Hyunjin’s fingers dance across your back, unaware of the lie you just added to your darkening chest.

“Just said he’s sorry,” you mumble, your hips starting to grow tired. Your pussy pulses in arousal, begging for his touch.

With a hand around your hip, he flips you over, off his lap and instead your back meets the silk sheets of your bed. The scent of powder and jasmine spreads around you. Your dark hair is splayed out around you, in contrast to the white sheets. The moonlight illuminates your features. Makes the unshed tears in your sparkle like diamonds, stealing his breath away with their beauty. You’re a sight to behold, your white button up still hangs on you, and you look nothing like a human but more like an ethereal creature. An angel that has descended from heaven just for him.

Hyunjin halts his movements, hooking his leg over your body. His gaze trails over you, appreciative, and your own drinks him in. watching him with eager and big eyes. Dripping with nothing but vulnerability and adoration for him. He wonders if he’s growing addicted to your pristine vulnerability or just the existence of you, needing him.

His hand reaches for you, cupping your cheek and you, just like he had always imagined lean into his touch, turning your head to place a tender kiss to the palm of his hand. It has his heart swelling with affection in his chest. He is once again astounded by you, by the effect you have on him and by your ability to have his heart chanting your name over and over again like no other woman in this world exists. Or your ability to have his cock hard and heavy in the tight space of his boxers, like he could explode just at the sight of your hard nipples. He swipes his thumb underneath your nipple, teasing despite the dryness of his throat.

You arch your back into him. For him and Hyunjin is confused, doesn’t know if he should lean into his love or lust.

“Hyunjin please.” Your whimper, tone laced with need and desperation pulls him out of his trance. A calling to remind him that he doesn’t have to daydream about you anymore. Because the real thing is under him right now.

“Please what angel?” his tongue swipes against his bottom lip, adding misery to your already dreading torture.

“Please touch me.” Your eyes implore into his, a broken edge to your voice has satisfaction spreading its wings in his chest.

“Where do you want me to touch?” he teases with a quirk of his lips that makes you want to cry “show me,” your smaller hand circles his wrist, trailing his hand across your body. Over your chest and down your stomach leaving a burning sensation behind. He swallows when you stop his hand right at the top of your jeans. Eyes pleading for him.

“Good girl.” His voice is heavy, words almost slurring together like he could taste you in the air. Lips smacking together in a passing thought as he tugs at your jeans, it goes with ease along with your underwear.

A warmth envelope your chest at his words, spreading across your chest and hugging your heart. It’s quickly washed away by a deep embarrassment once you realize how quickly exposed you have suddenly become while Hyunjin still remains fully clothed. Despite the overflowing wetness between your legs, your need for him. You close your legs with a whimper.

Hyunjin’s hands are meticulous on your knees, ignoring your voices as he pulls them apart. His eyes are on your core, your pink cunt spread for him. Glistening and it’s perfect. Prettier than anything he ever imagined. You’re dripping on your sheets, already making a mess of yourself when he has barely touched you. It has his ego skyrocketing, licking his lips in overwhelming hunger.

You’re such a mess, his mess.

“you’re so wet angel,” you whine, embarrassed by the fact that he isn’t doing anything, that he just stills and stares you down. Drowning you in his cold torture. Your hands come to cover your face unable to keep eye contact. Despite his disapproval he doesn’t tell you to do otherwise. His cold finger trails over your drenched folds, collecting your wetness with the pad of his finger. Your body attempts to chase after him, clenching around nothing in anticipation. Hyunjin pushes your hips down, bringing his finger to his mouth and keeps his hooded eyes on you that is peeking at him through your hands.

He moans at your taste, eyes rolling back. It has your chest heaving; your hands fall from your face at the way he crumbles so easily for you “You taste so good baby.” His tone lowers into a whisper, igniting the fire building inside of you once again.

“Please jinnie,” you find yourself begging once again, not sure for what exactly. For him, for anything to settle you down. Your face crumbles pleadingly when he keeps staring at you like he’s not in a rush, like he has all night. And that was all what it took for your frustration to finally snap. Collecting itself into tears in your eyes and the spill slowly over your cheeks. You’re overwhelmed yet not feeling anything enough, it only fuels him further, sends him right into the lap of the monster that seems to feed off your tears.

“Shh it’s okay,” Hyunjin collects your tears with the pad of his fingers, tone conceding in comparison to the softness that lingers in his touch. His fingers trail down to your plush lips, prodding them open “suck.” His half-lidded eyes stare back down at you and you comply. Tongue swirling around his fingers.

Hyunjin feels his jeans grow tighter around him as if that was possible. The sight of your tear-streaked face with his fingers in your mouth almost has him coming right then. He wishes he had his phone right now, take a pretty picture of you and save it for later.

“Such a good slut for me, aren’t you?” he preens inside when you nod your head incessantly, moaning around his fingers as if they were a strawberry flavored lollipop. Spit drips down the side of your lips and Hyunjin leans down, licking it.

Pulling his drenched fingers from your tempting mouth, he trails them down to your pussy, his thumb pressing into your clit, unmoving.

“You want it?” he whispers right on top of your lips, inches away and kisses at a tear that manages to escape your eyes “I-I want it,” you whimper, your breath fanning over his face. He keeps his eyes on you, fliting across your feature when he finally, finally lets his finger slip inside of you. He growls lowly at how wet you are, at the way your hole swallows his finger hungrily. You moan loudly, head thrown back as your own fingers tangle themselves into his blonde locks.

“More.” You plead; your breathing deepens as your hips rock back against his fingers in desperation. He complies, slipping two more fingers. The stretch burns so good, has your mouth falling agape in a silent moan. Eyebrows knitted and lashes fluttering. He’s completely enamored by you. By your sounds, your reaction. His own breathing uneven, matching yours. He can’t look away, can’t dare to miss the sweat rolling down your forehead.

“Feels good?” his noses along your cheek, his fingers start moving faster and deeper inside of you. It turns your brain to mush, has you melting right into your sheets. Your tongue forgets its purpose and you’re unable to say anything back as if your words have been stolen away by him. You only nod with a mewl, you rock feverishly against his fingers, your orgasm building at the speed of light.

His gaze is dark upon you, watching you lose your sanity for him has him drowning in his own lust, cock heavy between his legs. It burns a hole on the right side of your face.

“You’re gonna come?” his voice more than a whisper yet it manages to tighten the knot forming in your tummy “please,” he doesn’t even need to tell you to beg, you just do it. Desperate for the release you’ve been waiting for.

“You think you deserve it?” you sob, more tears rolling down your pink cheeks, you’re so close so close to falling apart, you could taste it on your tongue “please I’m sorry” you pathetically mutter, grabbing at whatever words your brain throws at you in hope that it will redeem your mishaps, in hope that it will soften Hyunjin’s heart. He chuckles lowly, impressed by how pathetic you sound when he hasn’t even fucked you yet. He still decides to be merciful “come for me, princess.” His voice clear and deep.

You throw your head back, mouth completely open and your core tightens around his fingers. Pleasure washes over your entire body as you come with a loud whine. A sweet song he listens to religiously. He wishes to burn the sight of you coming into his brain, he needs to record it, wants to reply it over and over again. The need overwhelms him, his throat growing dry as he stares at you trying to catch your breath.

You stare back, the eye contact makes your face burn. Your fingers brush at hairs at the nape of his neck, your nose bumps into his chin “thank you.” You mumble sweetly, airy. He thumbs at the abandoned tears at the corner of your eyes. His lips gravitas towards your own and the lust swimming in you dissipates, replaced with a silent desperation for his kiss. You lean closer to him, hoping for him to close the distance, for him to end another misery of yours that only exists because of him.

He lingers, stares at you as if he’s searching for the truth behind the blatant lies you spill endlessly.

“Y/N?” both of you freeze, the bubble of arousal and overwhelming loving explodes abruptly around you. The sound of your mother has your eyes widening “Y-Yes mommy?” you call back, Hyunjin shakes his head at you in confusion and you shrug.

“What’s going on? I heard voices.” Your heart picks up speed in panic, you push Hyunjin off from on top of you and he goes with ease. Eyes comically wide in terror. You quickly discard the shirt on you to the floor, grabbing one of your robes and wrapping it around yourself.

“Wait for me.” You mouth to Hyunjin who only nods back, seeming to be in a daze. You unlock your door, walking out and closing it behind you to see your mom’s figure down the dark corridor “What are you doing?” She questions, hair ruffled and voice thick with sleep. You stare at her dumbfoundedly. Grateful for the dark as it helps you conceal the aftermath of your orgasm “Nothing.”

“Why are you awake? It’s 3 am” her tone is suspicious, eyes flickering to your closed bedroom door “I was asleep, but I had a nightmare that’s all.” Your lie is childlike, you realize and maybe if your mom wasn’t so sleepy she would have caught on but that along with the faux indifference in your tone seem enough to convince her. She nods at you and mumbles something about going back to sleep. You let out a breath of relief when she turns around and walks away.

“Sorry about that. She’s gone.” You say to Hyunjin once you’re in your room, closing your door behind you and locking it. His eyes flicker between your hand and your face, a smile on his face. So charming it has you falling in love all over again. You wonder how many times is it possible to fall for the same person.

He’s sitting by the edge of your bed, legs spread open like an earlier scene “it’s okay.” He assures you and you swallow back nothing. Throwing yourself into your bed, face down. you huff.

Hyunjin chuckles, it vibrates through the walls of your heart. Pulling at your heartstrings.

“Sorry we couldn’t… you know.” You trail off awkwardly, peeking at him with the corner of your eyes and he shakes his head dismissively “It’s okay. I’m not fond of fucking you when your parents are down the hall.” His hand is in your hair, brushing strands away from your face. He doesn’t want anything to block you from watching him. He wants to be able to watch you back, when you’re moaning and when you’re tired, falling into a rare kind of softness.

You try not to think about the fact that those same fingers were inside you not long ago, it has your thighs clenching together and you chastise yourself for your endless hunger.

“Why did you not want to hang out with us today? Was it because of Yeji?” You don’t expect him to speak and when he does you don’t expect it to be this. An ember of curiosity swims in his eyes. This is a forwardness in this Hyunjin that you’re not used to. You were used to the old Hyunjin, the avoidant Hyunjin. The one you used to have an endless game of mouse and cat with.

You’re almost bitter at the fact he changed and you haven’t.

“Partly.” You lie through your teeth, sitting back next to him and his body welcomes you. Molds itself to make space for you “why do you hate her? Did something that I’m unaware of happen between you?”

Hate. Such a strong word that you wish to plaster on every feeling coursing through your body. You wish for it to be this easy. But it isn’t and anything you feel is nowhere close to hate.

“I don’t hate her. She just makes me uncomfortable.” You pull another lie, opening up another chest to bury this one in. One isn’t enough anymore. The mountain of unspoken words only seems to grow bigger between you.

“Do you think you could try next time? For me?” he hums, a hand cradling your cheek in a sweet manner, like a sweet lover you will never get the chance to have. Your time with him will run out before then.

“I want you guys to get along.” He adds and his tone is gentle, soft and more than anything hopeful. You blame him for your endless lies that seem to tumble out whenever you’re around him “Okay.” Hyunjin smiles and leans down to place a kiss to your cheek “Thank you, pretty.” You keep silent, leaning your head on his shoulder. Silence fills the room and Hyunjin fingers play with yours. You drown in your misery, guilt seeps into your blood and you wonder if being in love would ever be good enough of a defense against your malicious acts. When they finally catch up with you, what kind of betrayal would Hyunjin wear? when he finds out who you really are. When he unravels the ugliness, you hide.

How long do you have till then?

“I wish you could stay with me forever Hyunjin.” You don’t look up to see the softness that breaks into his features, the hopeful glint you had killed when you were eighteen is there again.

“Me too Angel.” He says back so easily.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Previous | Next

Masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah , @christopherisfoive , @realrintaro , @kkamismom12 , @nujeskz , @wolfietara , @luvvvash , @pnkcasket, @asiixc , @shyshyshytwice , @samhomo , @babrieeee , @nhyunn , @enzstr , @idontlikecoffeeortea , @feelikecinderella , @not-very-slay-of-you , @linocvp1d , @amarecerasus , @itgirlalisaa , @babrieeee , @arikazu , @hyundumpling , @skzhoes , @cupkiki , @avokralaim , @hyunenenenenennenenehs , @super-btstrash-posts , @mellhwang , @kaiyaba , @hyunjinloverrrr , @finnbbl , @rockyhedgehog , @heyhaez , @anjian03 , @jihanniee

(bold can't be tagged please remember to check your settings so i can tag you!)

176 notes · View notes

xxzlushiez · 11 months

Text

Back in Time

2023! Bill Kaulitz x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Bill starts dating someone who he finds out reminds him of his younger self

Notes: fluff fluff fluff, kisses, corny bill, Name sorting acts like 2000s bill, dresses like him, just silly stuff not really anything crazy😭

- when he started dating you he always felt a little nostalgic

- when getting ready for a date and saw what you were wearing it kinda just clicked for him

- you reminded Billof himself as a teenager

- from how you sometimes did your hair to how acted

- it was so weird it was almost like seeing himself in front of him

- thought it was so so cute

- gave you the biggest hug and your like

- “what was that for”

- started to watch you more intently bc he wanted to see how similar you were to him

- you were prettyyyyy similar

- you were kind and confidence but could have attitude when needed

- weren’t afraid to express yourself which kinda made him sad in a good way because it was so nice to see

- when he told you how much you reminded him of his kid self you were shocked

- like okay let’s say you didn’t know that much about Tokio Hotel in the 2000s

- he would literally pull out tons of boxes from a storage closet and show you all his clothes and photos from when he was a teen

- laughing and joking around all day about the similarities

- if you if you let him put his signature makeup look on with some of his old clothes he would be like a kid in a candy store

- giggly and jumping around trying to find pallets with darker colors

- since he had a more vibrant and colorful aesthetic currently he kinda had to dig around😭

- if you were really patient and let him put your hair up in a similar style as his he would pass away

- like covering his mouth while laughing at how similar him and you look

- doing stupid catwalks around the house

- doesn’t know how he couldn’t figure out the connections sooner

- when you wore any dark clothing he always made sure to take pictures

- you kind of reminded him of a cat with how you acted and wondered if ppl saw him as one when he was a teen (they did)

- you brought out the child in him and made him wanna dress up in his old style just for funzies

- such a stark contrast between you to a social events

- your both bubbling with live and lighting up the room but your styles are like sun and moon😭

- polar opposites

- the standard of couple matching somehow

- if you were a certain pattern he will to in his own style

- includes some accessories from each others wardrobe in your outfits😭(I’m crying it’s so cute)

606 notes · View notes

s0lam33y · 4 months

Text

You make me so…

producer! riri x reader

a/n: I’m sorry if there r a lot of typos, I didn’t have to re-edit this. I was gonna make this a series but I just decided to turn it into a oneshot ! I feel like it’s a bit all over the place but yknow what? It’s fine 💀

@pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover

Riri 🎶

- meet me at the studio in 30, im tryna wrap this album up, I got places to be.

You read the text from your phone and feel an arm secure around your barely conscious frame. You feel a pair of lips against the nose of your neck that you used to make you shiver in the best way possible but has begun to bore you.

“Where you going?” Your girlfriend, Tori, grumbles as you begin to shift away from her. You turn around and gently kiss her forehead.

“I got to go to the studio.” You tell her as you sit up on the foot of the bed. You pull a shirt from the floor over your naked body. She wasn’t all that good in bed and she didn’t put you to sleep anyway so you don’t see a point in staying. Your girlfriend sits up and rubs at her bleary eyes.

“Why does she always need you?” She questions with irritation seeping through her words. You sigh again, this isn’t the first time she’s commented on Riri texting you late at night. You know it’s not flirtatious and they’ve interacted enough for your girl to hate your producer.

You can’t blame her. Riri’s naturally flirtatious, not purposefully. But her kindness can be taken a certain way. She’s caring, loving and so damn carefree it blows your mind. She calls everyone pet names and your girlfriend wasn’t too happy about it when she heard ‘baby,’ slip out of her mouth. Riri’s respectful and when she saw the slow twitch in your girl’s eyes so she had laid off the pet names for a while. Now she doesn’t care so much.

When you don’t feel like recording, she lets you take breaks. She doesn’t push your limits too quickly. She makes the best beats she can find, Hell, she gets you into after parties. She’s so damn considerate and so sweet.

“It’s work, let it go. A’ight?” You breathe out, walking towards the mirror and fluffing your flattened Afro. You feel arms wrap around your clad waist and want to pry her off of you.

It’s no longer cute, it’s borderline possessive and it’s taking everything in you not to say something crazy.

“As long as you know.” She shrugs, kissing your shoulder before heading out of the room, towards the kitchen you’re sure. You freshen up, wearing a skirt and boots. You never leave without a bunch of bracelets on your arm and golden hoops.

On your way out, you hear your girlfriend’s voice over her mic as she clicks away at her ps5 that you remember buying after your first check from a concert.

“I’m heading out.” You murmur.

“Yeah- Yeah, see you, babe.” She says, more excited at the video game on the flatscreen T.V than you. She doesn’t even spare a glance as you head out of your apartment. You don’t understand how someone can be so considerate and careless as the same time.

You do well for yourself, you live on a rather expensive side of Chicago now. And you’ve managed to take your girlfriend with her, she doesn’t work. Not now. She says she’ll get there at some point but even you aren’t sure when.

You don’t bother driving to Riri’s penthouse. It’s a nice night out, not too cold or too hot. It’s a simple light breeze and you find yourself finding more inspiration anyway. You receive a couple looks, a couple fans bump into you, begging for signatures and snapping photos of you. You’re new to this, the fame and paparazzi. It’s flattering and nowhere near Invasive just yet.

You finally reach Riri’s penthouse after a fifteen minute walk. You can hear the strumming of guitar chords and once you reach to knock a voice sounds.

“Doors already open.” Riri’s voice mentions. You push the door open to find her sitting in her leather couch. Her apartment is full of warm light, it’s the perfect temperature with all kinds of warm toned colors splattered around it.

“Wassup, Y/N. I like your fit.” Riri smiles. She noticed at least. She has a one-sided smile plastered on her face and a part of you can’t tell if you find it cute because it’s her or just a preference you have. Her braids are gathered in a bun on top of her head with spiraling curls framing her face.

“Preciate it.” You reply. She’s man spreading, dressed in loose sweats and sports bra , like she is nearly 90 % of the time. The public notices too and she’s had numerous comparisons to Adam Sandler. She’s more stylish but she has I-Don‘t-Give-A-Fuck, attitude. You noticed the sparkle in her tongue from the piercing lodged there as she begins to speak.

“I just wanted to go over the album, before everything’s set. Is that alright?” She questions as she stands up. She doesn’t walk towards her studio room, instead she walks towards the fridge across the island counter.

“You want sumn to drink?” She offers.

You already know it’s gonna be a long session.

…

“That was good, baby.” Riri encourages through the other side of the glass. You feel your face heat up at her compliment. It’s not the first time she’s ever praised you but you have the same reaction every time. You look up to find her with a headset on and relaxed look.

“Do that again, I need you to drag out the vowels a lil longer, f’me. If you nail that then this album is platinum.” She requests while sitting back and placing her hands behind her head. You hear the beat again. It’s slow, sensual and you find yourself rushing a lot.

That’s what this album is supposed to be. Slow. Sensual. It’s what your going for anyway. It’s supposed to be about love, lust and passion. Your supposed to be thinking about your girl. The woman in your home.

But instead you think of her. The woman in front of you, your producer.

You should be be thinking about your girlfriends smile, the soft cologne she wears, her raunchy laugh. But instead you think of Riri, her perfect hair, the vanilla perfume that she sprays on her neck, the softest chuckle she always lets out and that toothy grin. She has the cutest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you missed the entire thing, you okay?” Riri asks. You snap your eyes up only to find her looking at you. Have her eyes always been this brown?

“I’m okay.”

“Fuckin’ liar, step out the booth, we gon talk this out, ma.” She replies. You want to complain but you do what she tells you anyway. Because truth is, she could tell you anything and you’d do it. And you hate that.

You take a seat next to a rolling chair next to her and focus on the glass covered album covers behind her.

“What’s botherin’ you?” She investigates. You focus on her the different golden rings on her fingers, the way she twists them around her middle and pointer finger.

“Nothing, I just um- I can’t focus.” You admit.

“Yeah? And why is that?” She digs deeper, sitting up so her elbow rests on her knees. Have her arms been so toned? You watch the Cuban link around her move back and forth.

“Is it sumn with yo girl?” She guesses. She takes your silence as a yes. She’s always seemed neutral when it comes to your girlfriend. She doesn’t mention it.

“Y/N, do you love her?” Riri asks.

“I don’t know.” You reply and Riri doesn’t know the reason why your questioning it is because of her. She smiles at you, and you’re sure she’s gonna drop some wisdom.

“Go home…go see her, we have a long day tomorrow, we got an after party. I want you to let loose and have fun.” She encourages as her hand gravitates towards the curve of your left shoulder.

“But the album-“

“I’ll put it together, you’ve given me everything I need.” She insists as she ushers you out. You want to reach out for hug but for some reason that seems to intimate.

“I’ll see you.” She promises and just like that you’re out in the Chicago air again.

Her words stick in your mind.

“you’ve given me everything I need.”

…

The next morning is busy. You wake yourself up and catch the sunrise but don’t have time to watch it. You run through your skincare routine, in the hopes of not having any breakouts.

You plan out your outfit for tonight, you want something that presents you on the outside. So you settle for a dark black body con dress, some black boots to match and a leather jacket. You’ll pair it with some shades and silver jewelry.

This is technically your first after-party and although it’s not a big deal to many artists, it’s a big deal to you. You’re going to meet so many other artists like you, some that you’ve been admiring for years.

While your in your robe, rubbing cream into your face, arms wrap around your waist like they do nearly every morning.

You wonder what Riri’s morning routine is like. Knowing her, she probably wakes up later than she should and most likely stays in bed. It’s wrong for think of someone else while your have a good girlfriend standing right behind you.

Tori’s stable. Predictable. She’s comfortable. She doesn’t try to make you happy anymore, she doesn’t know what you favor. Hell, she barely listens to your music. But you too, have grown far too comfortable. You know what she likes. You’ve known her since you were both in highschool. It’s too late to back out now.

You lean back in her arms and the smell of her cologne has become unfamiliar, your body and system have become accustomed to the scent of sweet vanilla and warm lavender.

“Want some coffee?” She asks and all you can do is smile and nod. You want Riri, but the guilt is too much. The guilt of leaving Tori would squeeze the life out of you.

She has no one but you. Hell, she moved from New York to Chicago to chase your dreams with you. You can’t have her and Riri at the same time. She hands you your coffee, it’s black and there’s nowhere near enough cream but you smile as you drink. She’s good to you.

Riri is no longer an option, she never should’ve been.

…

The party is at a high-end club. Filled with artists, big and small. None that you can see because of the lowly dimmed red lights throughout.

Riri 🎶

-wya? I got ppl for you to meet.

You try to text back but you feel a hand squeeze your own and look back to see Tori smiling at you. She isn’t dressed to coordinate your outfit but she still looks good, only in a simple white Tee and cargo pants.

“You look good, babe.” She smiles, kissing your shoulder excitedly. Her hand squeeze yours again. You notice that she has no rings on it. You shake your head out of it and feel her hand loosen up as her body tenses behind you. You aren’t sure why until you lift your head up. You find Riri in front of you, she’s in the middle of conversation and throwing her head back as she laughs.

She looks gorgeous. Beautiful. She’s in an oversized suit with nothing but supple skin underneath and a plunged v-neck. She holds a clear glass of what you think is wine and her face beat with a soft glam which you see due to her braids being pulled in a high pony tail. She has her rings on as usual and her chain. That never changed.

Tori’s hand trails down to rest on your waist as Riri approaches. You do your best not to stare at the space between her breasts.

“Nice to see you two.” She smiles, gold decorating her bottom row of teeth. You hear Tori fake a laugh as you smile.

“Y/N, I got a couple people for you to meet, just let me know when you ready.” She points out with her bottom lip tucked into her mouth. You spin on your heel to look at displeased Tori.

“Go, I’ll meet you later, mhm?” You suggests. She mumbles something under her breath and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s messy and your sure your lip liner is on her own lips. You latch away from her and find a waiting Riri.

“Here you go,” She says as she hands you a glass of wine. The even doesn’t call for it but she doesn’t need you borderline drunk especially if it’s for business.

Throughout the night, she introduced you to everyone she can think of. All of her friends, all of the artists she works with, some big and some small. You don’t notice how many drinks you begin to grab and she eventually has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet. You start to lean into her touch for support, grabbing at shockingly toned shoulders and veiny hands.

“I think you’re done with the drinks, baby.” She whispers lowly as she leans into you. She had caught you trying to grab another but stopped you before you had the chance.

“I don’t need you ruining y’image.” She says sternly. The carefree version of her that you know is long-gone. Her face is stern as she guides you to a more empty part of the club. She puts you up against a wall, forcing her hands not to linger as she reaches into the pocket of your leather jacket.

Your mind is hazy, cloudy is a better word for it. You’re beginning to see two of her.

“Y/N, put the pin in.” She orders as she placed the phone in your face. You want to say something to her, tell her that she looks so fucking good. And that you’ve noticed the tattooed lined down her sternum.

“I’m calling Tori for you.” She sighs.

“Don’t, please. Not now.” You murmur as she puts the phone to her ear. You grab the lapels of her jacket and pull her close, so close that you can tell that she’s swapped her vanilla perfume for something more expensive.

“I want you.” You clarify through a croaky voice. Her eyes widen to the size of plates as you lean in, pressing her body to your own. She leans in close, so fucking close you can taste it.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?” She coldly clarifies. It feels like a damn slap to the face.

The distance between the two or you causes her to drop your phone which she quickly picks up anyway.

“Stop, Y/N. I’m callin’.” She insists. She looks…uneasy. She takes a step back, breathing in deeply as she looks at you with the phone to her ear.

“Yeah, man, she tipsy. We on the bottom floor, by the entrance.” She hangs up and slips your phone back into your pocket.

“We won’t mention this, you’re just drunk, you don’t want this, baby. You don’t want me, aight?” She says, like she’s trying to convince you but more-so herself. She smiles, hoping that it spreads onto your face but it doesn’t. She brings your hand to her lips and for the first time her lips touch your skin. You’ll never forget it. The coldness of her rings, the softness of her fingertips and the callouses on her palm.

“Go home, ma. I’ll see you.” She says with a sad smile that’s etched itself into your mind. She blends in with the lights the further she walks away from you and all you want to do is call for her but you hear Tori’s voice sound form behind you.

“Let me take you home.” She suggests, interlocking her bare fingers with the one that Riri just kissed. Your hand feels gross now, and you can feel the sweat that’s accumulated on your palm.

She kisses your temple but no matter where she kisses you. It won’t compare to the softest one you’ve ever received.

You agree to let her take you home. That’s the good choice. Tori’s the good choice. But if she is then why doesn’t it feel so fucking wrong?

…

You wake up the next morning with a slight headache but that’s not the worse part. The worse part is that you remember every single part you of last night. You remember Riri, her outfit, her voice, her kiss.

“You got real tipsy.” Tori murmurs as she rubs your back. You’re leaned over the bathroom sink with watery eyes and an angry stomach.

“I bet.” You murmur. You’ve always been a lightweight so even you don’t understand why you decided to get wine drunk last night.

“Yeah and uh- I’ll give you some space.” Tori says, leaving you with your thoughts.

You luckily, never end up puking your guts out but the nausea never leaves. Not becomes of the alcohol but because of the genuine anxiety from last night. You try to get some sleep but you never do.

…

Two days after the party you find Riri in her studio. She hasn’t spoken a word about the club. It’s like it’s been wiped from her brain. She keeps calling you pet names and has the softest smile on your face you swear you lose synapses by the second.

But you can’t play along. You’re not sure you want to. You’re seated right next to her with your album playing. The open room feels so stuffy.

And today there are no songs to finish up, or to record. All you two have to do is go over your album. Every song there is. And her favorite song begins to play. It’s your least favorite, more vulnerable than you’d like, it’s not your best work. You named it Seen, again, not your best work, not the most thought out.

“We should scrap that.” You murmur. It’s too intimate, and you’re beginning to hate it. Especially since Riri’s the one hearing it.

“Nah, let it play.” She sighs. All she would really need is a blunt to relax her. You stare at her, admiring her side profile while she closes her eyes. You know it’s about her. The song is about her. All of the nights she spent thinking of lyrics and love, were spent thinking around Riri. You watch her visibly relax, her abs tensing on every inhale and chest rising on every exhale.

“Riri-“

Her eyes meet yours before you can finish your sentence.

“I know…I was hoping you had forgotten, Y/N.�� She says, nearly whispering into the air. You’re so tired of having to settle. Riri doesn’t let you, she doesn’t let you settle for bad brand deals, bad concerts, bad programs. You don’t think about any what if’s, what cons there are in your career because as of now she’s done everything in her power so you don’t have to.

"You've given me a lot, Y/N. But I grew up watching my parents and the love they got...There's no one else for them, there's no other choice. They're meant to be...I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman." She murmurs, her eyes low as she stares ahead. You remain silent because there's nothing you can think of saying. "Ion know how you feel bout Tori, I know you want me...But it's not difficult to want someone, You don't want me more than you want Tori," But you do. "I don't like this, being confused. You want me but you still with her..." She exhales before continues. " I can't accept that and neither should you." Your song has stopped playing for a long time. She still doesn't turn her head to look at you. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and both of you know who's calling. Riri knows you'll pick up. She knows now that you'll always pick Tori and seeing it will only solidify her thoughts. Tori's good, She's stable. She's everything you need. She should be enough. If that's the case why do you constantly need to remind yourself. You put the phone to your ear and watch Riri shift a little in her chair. Within two minutes, you're walking towards her apartment door. You don't say anything but before you can walk too far, she speaks. "Get home safe." ...

Within days, your album charts in the top 10 on Spotify and Apple music. Your phone blows with congratulation messages from people you love, people dear to you, people you haven't spoken to in years and exes that you have forgotten to block. While you're in the car with Tori, your least favorite song begins to play on the Radio. Today has been so confusing. It's been the worst day and best day of your life. There's nothing scarier than being vulnerable especially to millions of people worldwide. "This song is real cute, Who's it about?" Tori grins, confident that the song is all about her. Then your heart sinks and you realize that out of the hundreds of messages, you really only wanted to see one. Your eyes begin to burn with tears and your phone pings. Speak of the devil.

Riri 🎶

- congrats, y/n. you deserve it :)

You put your phone down and in your pocket, forcing a smile on your face.

“You.” You murmur and it excites the woman next to you but she doesn’t know who lingers in your mind. She never will.

what y'all think?

#riri williams #riri williams x reader

201 notes · View notes

buttercupjosh · 7 months

Text

Jump Then Fall (The 4 times everyone else thinks you’re Quinn’s romantic partner and the 1 time you actually are)

(Gif credit to @gabelandeskog)

Word count: 5,045

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers

Warnings: none

A/N: I’ve had this specific idea in my mind for about 2 years but never wrote it out because I decided to write other things first and took certain things from this concept and kinda put it into my other stories but after Quinn was named captain in September 2023, I decided to write it out. (Speaking of my other stories, I did write a Quinn fic in 2022, which you should check out). The title and this story is based off of the song, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift. It’s set from this past week (October 7th-14th), with additional fictional elements added. (Yes, I decided to publish it on Quinn's birthday because why not?) It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“I was enchanted to meet you” -Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Prologue

Losing in a fantasy sports league can come with many different types of punishment, whether it’s being forced to eat a pancake for every wrong player you picked or putting in extra money in the winning jackpot. Your punishment for losing in the fantasy sports league you participated in was wearing a very 2014 Tumblr-esque “lol ur not Quinn Hughes” shirt that your best friend got you as a gag gift for Christmas to a Canucks game. This punishment came at a convenient time when you already planned to be in Vancouver for a work conference. Accepting your fate, you proudly donned the cringey t-shirt at the game, and as expected, people did look at you weirdly. What you didn’t plan at all was that your game seats happened to be located next to where a group of some of the Canucks WAGs were sitting. Lenasia, Ethan Bear’s fiance, noticed your shirt and immediately began talking to you. You explained to her why you were wearing such a thing and that clicked an idea in her brain. Lenasia turned away, began talking again to the other WAGs she was with, and was also frantically texting someone. After a brief period, Lenasia faced back towards you and told you to wait after the game because she had a surprise for you. You had a slight inkling of what that surprise was but silently hoped that it didn’t actually come true.

After the game was completed, Lenasia led you through the tunnels of Rogers Arena and told security that you were with her. It felt weird to hear her say that, considering that you just met her a few hours ago. You stood together outside of the Canucks locker room and the feeling of embarrassment continued to rise within you as the guys filed out, some of them laughed at your shirt and then, you saw him. Quinn was right there, less than 10 feet away from you. Your suspicions were right; you would have just settled for a signed item from him and have no interaction with him but you were actually going to meet him right now. You felt like you were going to pass out but tried your best to maintain your composure. Lenasia introduced you to Quinn and told him the same story of why you were wearing a shirt with his name on it. Quinn didn’t fully quite understand why the shirt was such a big deal but agreed to take the photo with you. He was nice enough to wrap his arm around you with a side hug and being that close together oddly felt natural and comfortable for two people who had just met for the first time. After the photo was finished being taken, Quinn kindly offered to sign your shirt so he inked his signature on your right shoulder. You thanked Quinn and Lenasia again for everything and left to return to your hotel. It was a lot to process but you were rightfully shocked that you started your night fulfilling some silly punishment and ended it by meeting the person whose name is on your shirt.

The following day, you sent the photo of you and Quinn from the night before to your friends and your friends joked in the groupchat that if you played your cards right, you might be next in line to date him. Yes, you posted about it on Instagram and tagged Quinn so everyone knew you actually met him. Since the day after you met was an off day, Quinn had some time to scroll through Instagram and he saw your post. Seeing your post led him to see all of your posts and eventually, he ended up in your DMs.

Do you always look that cute wearing someone’s name?, an Instagram message from a very familiar verified account read. You couldn’t believe it and thought you were somehow dreaming when you read Quinn’s message but it was very much real. You replied back: I guess I always do but I only wear the names of attractive guys and considering this is my only piece that has an athlete’s name, I guess you should consider yourself lucky ;) It felt odd to shamelessly flirt with a famous athlete (considering that most of them wouldn’t give you the time of day anyway) but it wasn’t like you were actually going to date him or be his friend anyway (or so you had thought).

The flirty interaction eventually led to the exchange of numbers and to a long message chain between the two of you that would extend on for months. You did return home from your trip to Vancouver and maintained a long-distance friendship with Quinn. Your friendship with Quinn was great; you trusted each other, shared some secrets, did virtual movie nights together sometimes, sent memes back and forth, told some of your closest friends and family about the other, and communicated on the phone constantly. Once of your favorite things to do with Quinn was that he would always call you during your morning commute to work and on his commute home after his games to decompress after the game. Since you didn’t live in an area where there was an NHL team, your options for seeing Quinn again in person were limited and you weren’t sure if you were going to ever see him again. It felt weird to ask about seeing each other in real life so everything was just kept online until one day, the timing was right to move things offline.

————————————————————

About a year into your friendship, the right opportunity opened up for you to return to Vancouver to see Quinn again. To the delight of many, Quinn was named Captain of the Canucks and he invited you out to his first game as Captain. You were important enough to him that Quinn wanted you to be there to celebrate that amazing accomplishment; you were surprised by the invitation but excited at the prospect of seeing him again. You used some of your remaining vacation time and paid for your plane ticket to and from Vancouver; Quinn wanted to pay for something so he placed you to stay in the nicest hotel that Vancouver has to offer. You were thrilled to spend a week in Vancouver and hopefully make some fun memories with Quinn while you were there.

Your anticipation for seeing him was slightly halted when Quinn revealed that he couldn’t pick you up from the airport because your flight arrived at the same time that he had captain responsibilities to fulfill in the community so you and Quinn agreed to meet to have dinner later on that evening. Emma, Anthony Beauvillier’s girlfriend, picked you up from the airport to take you to the hotel; you had never met or interacted with Emma before but you appreciated her kind favor. The drive from Vancouver International Airport to the hotel (which Quinn did not tell you beforehand because he wanted it to be a surprise) was normally a 30-minute drive, which turned into an hour drive due to traffic. While you and Emma waited in the rush hour traffic, you talked and learned more about her, her relationship with Anthony, what things are like in Quebec, and what it’s like to be a hockey WAG. Emma had a lot of questions about your relationship with Quinn and was curious as to why you, his romantic partner, weren’t around as much before. You corrected Emma by telling her that you and Quinn were just friends and nothing more and you came to support him as your friend.

“Are you sure you and Quinn are just friends because he must really like you a lot to pay for you to stay here?”, Emma asked as you pulled up to the Fairmount Waterfront hotel.

You replied yes, you were just his friend and she handed you over your room keys that were passed to her through the chain of command. You thanked Emma for giving you a ride and you both mentioned wanting to hang out with each other again.

Quinn was not kidding when he told you that you would be staying at the best hotel in Vancouver; your room had spectacular views of the Vancouver Harbor and was very fancy. As you got ready for your dinner with Quinn, you began to reflect on your conversation with Emma about him. You could admit that he was endearingly handsome and had qualities that you were looking for in a boyfriend but you and Quinn never really discussed romantic pursuits and outside of that initial flirty exchange when you first started talking to each other and the occasional compliment, there wasn’t much flirting really going on between you. You had always assumed that Quinn had someone, whether it was someone in Vancouver or in Michigan, waiting in the wings for him. Your thoughts were interrupted when you got a text from Quinn that he was coming up to the room. It was happening; for the first time in over a year, you got to see your internet best friend in person and you were ecstatic. Although he had a copy of the hotel room key, Quinn knocked on your hotel room door and a smile beamed across both of your faces as you recognized who was standing at the doorway. Quinn engulfed you in a long-awaited hug and you rocked back and forth. There were many areas in his life that made him feel delighted but hearing you laugh was one of the best sounds to him and holding you in his arms was the greatest feeling.

After separating, you realized that Quinn was dressed for a night in while you were dressed for a night out. The weather app indicated that a storm was rolling in so Quinn dressed to stay in at the hotel, order food, and have a movie night, while you were willing to brave the rain to try some of Vancouver’s cuisine. Quinn thought that you looked nice and wished that he communicated to you that Vancouver storms were no joke and you looking cute in your rain jacket wasn’t going to push him to go out in such weather either. He also really wanted to spend time with you without the distractions that come from him going out in public. You agreed to order in and changed into more comfy clothes while you waited for the food to arrive. Preseason hockey was over so Quinn decided to treat himself (and you) to some authentic Chinese food from his favorite place. As you and Quinn indulged on the delicious Chinese food, you began catching up with each other on what had occurred in your lives recently. As Quinn shared what had been going on his life lately, you heard all of the words he was saying but the only thing you were thinking about was how you just wanted to be together and you would lose focus sometimes as he spoke. You and Quinn kept talking so much on so many different topics that it was almost midnight before you decided to watch a movie. You settled on watching Ferris Buller’s Day Off before drifting off to sleep.

————————————————————

For Quinn, it felt surreal to wake up the following morning next to you. After being in contact with you for over a year, here you were, right there, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed. Throughout the night, Quinn was respectful of your boundaries and no lines were crossed, everything was kept PG. You were awoken by the sound of water running coming from the bathroom and waited for Quinn to emerge out. After he came out of the bathroom, you discussed the day’s plan (which there wasn’t really one) and decided to go to breakfast at a very special place. Quinn still had some time off before the first game of the season so you had even more extra time to spend with him.

On the car ride to the restaurant, you began to imagine what it would be like to live in Vancouver. Sure, this wasn’t your first time there but you saw it in a different light as you were gazing outside of the car window with Quinn by your side. You arrived at your destination and Quinn got out and kindly came around to open the door for you; it was a sweet gesture that he didn’t have to do.

The restaurant was the same cafe that Quinn and Petey tended to frequent and the wait staff at the restaurant was so familiar with him, down to the point that they knew his exact order: plain buttermilk waffles topped with whipped cream, strawberries, raspberries, and sides of bacon, potatoes, and guacamole. The waitress, an older woman named Louise, reminded you of an endearing grandmother figure; she even put your meal on the house as a treat. After the meal concluded and you were on the way back to Quinn’s car, a fan was waiting right outside of the restaurant for an opportunity to meet the captain of their favorite team. The fan approached you, Quinn’s romantic partner, to take their photo together. You wanted to correct the fan for being wrong but you also could tell that Quinn wanted to get going so you let it be; besides, Quinn didn’t even hear the fan address you as his lover. Quinn later on apologized for the fan encounter but it wasn’t an issue for you, you understood who he was and the things that came with being a famous athlete and you expected something like that might happen while you were together. You continued on the rest of your spontaneous day, being touristy around Vancouver, visiting Gastown, Stanley Park, and Granville Island with the cutest tour guide.

————————————————————

Your time in Vancouver coincided with Canadian Thanksgiving. Dinner is usually held at the team captain’s house and since Quinn is the captain, dinner would be held at his place but since his apartment couldn’t quite hold the entire team, Tyler Myers offered to host dinner at his home. It was exciting to celebrate a holiday together and learn more about each other’s Thanksgiving traditions but it also made you feel a little nervous because you would be meeting more of Quinn’s teammates and spending time with their families. The Canucks team’s Thanksgiving dinner was potluck style and everyone had to bring something so you and Quinn offered to bring a dessert. You decided to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and Quinn graciously purchased the ingredients for you and let you use his kitchen. Quinn was a good sous chef; he actually enjoyed baking with you and you both had fun together. You even got into a little squabble over who would wash the dishes before agreeing that you would wash them and Quinn would dry them. After the cookies were done, you both got ready for dinner.

On the car ride over to the Myers house, your mind began to wander, contemplating about the domestic moment you shared earlier with Quinn and how you would want more moments like that with him. Quinn felt the same way but wasn’t sure how to verbally tell you that. Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination. You casually mixed and mingled with the other Canucks players and their families; as expected, some of the players had kids and the kids were curious to know who you were and you explained to them that you were Quinn’s friend. Tristan, Tyler’s son, asked if you were Quinn’s lover friend and you were going to tell him no but you were interrupted by the message that dinner was about to be served so you let it go.

Despite your initial nervousness about the event, dinner actually went well and your cookies were a hit. The other Canucks players and their wives and girlfriends accepted you well into their group; they liked you for you and they liked you with Quinn. Due to the fact he’s their captain, some of the guys pushed Quinn into giving a speech and he expressed his thankfulness and gratitude on such a special holiday; he even looked at you when he mentioned how glad he was to have the people in the room as a part of his life.

During the post-dinner relaxation time, you and Quinn settled into watching the CFL game that was on before Tristan came up to ask the both of you to play hide and seek with him and his sister, Skylar. The football game wasn’t that interesting to either of you so you both agreed to play. Since you were the guest, the kids had you count first.

As you were looking to see where Quinn and the kids were hiding, you observed around the Myers home and began to think about how this was something that you had desired to have one day; a home full of love, laughter, and children. You checked the guest room closet to see if anyone was hiding in there before greeting Quinn by shouting BOO as soon as you opened the door. Instead of stepping out to help you find Skylar and Tristan, Quinn pulled you back into the closet and shut the door for a quiet moment alone. Quinn’s heart was beating super fast, not just because you inflicted fear into him for a brief second, but also because you were close to each other inside the dark closet. You obviously couldn’t see in the darkness but Quinn kept staring at the presumed outline of your mouth because he wanted pull you closer and kiss you so bad. Quinn almost had his chance to ask but was interrupted by the sound of children’s feet pattering on the ground and the door opening. Tristan quickly corrected you that as the counter, you were not allowed to hide until it was your turn to hide. An all-too-familiar chuckle came out of Quinn and you rolled your eyes at him since he was the one who caused you to break the rules before playing another round of hide and seek with the kids.

When it was time to say goodbye, Tristan and Skylar came over to give you a departing hug and Tristan loudly said that he had fun with you, Quinn’s special friend. It warmed your heart to hear his little voice say that to you. Before dropping you off back at the hotel, you had asked Quinn if he was going to stop and get his annual Thanksgiving apple pie slice from the bakery. He had mentioned his Thanksgiving tradition to you only once but it meant a lot to him that you had remembered that. Due to the fact that you made dessert from scratch, Quinn forgot to pick up the pie beforehand to bring to the party and the bakery with the pie that he enjoyed was already closed, but it was okay. Quinn didn’t mind skipping his tradition because he got to make a new memory with you. You and Quinn had such a good time at the Thanksgiving dinner and you had quietly hoped to get the opportunity to spend more holidays together.

————————————————————

The Canucks home opener was finally here. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking for Quinn; he knew that this day was coming but it felt a little more surreal that it was actually here. Quinn’s parents, Ellen and Jim, even flew in to watch their son receive his official captaincy before jetting off to go watch Jack and Luke at the Devils home opener the following day. You felt a bit of deja vu being back at Rogers Arena, since that was the place you and Quinn had met over a year ago, but that deja vu feeling came in a good way. It was fun to watch warmups with the other WAGs and you got to see Emma again. As warmups went on, you held J.T. Miller’s son, Owen, in your arms while Natalie Miller held her daughters, Scarlett and Scottlyn, closer to the glass to give them a better view to see their father on the ice. Since the day was very busy for Quinn, the only time he got to see you was for a brief second during warmups. Quinn’s heart swelled up with joy when he saw you at the glass, holding baby Owen and he also thought you looked so stunning and beautiful in your outfit. He wanted to pass you a puck but instead, he gave you a quick wink and passed a puck to a young fan with a sign and continued to skate around.

Warmups were over and the game was about to start soon so you went up to your seats. Instead of having you sit with the other WAGs, Quinn got you a ticket next to his parents. Of course, Quinn wanted you to meet his parents for the first time in a much more formal way but due to the limited time that you all had in Vancouver, it was slightly more convenient for you to meet his parents while at the game. It was a little awkward at first to meet Quinn’s parents because you were just Quinn’s long-distance friend and meeting the parents is a big deal but Jim and Ellen already knew who you were because you were important enough to their son that he had told them about you. Ellen mentioned to you that she suspected you were dating Quinn because he spoke so highly about you, indicating a possible crush but always shut it down by mentioning that you were just friends.

When it was time for Quinn to be introduced as captain, you got delightful goosebumps on your body because you were so proud of him. You already knew he was captain but watching some of the old Canucks captains pass the torch over to one of your best friend’s brought a rush of happiness to you; your heart even skipped a beat as he put on the jersey with the “C” on it. The game itself was amazing; the Canucks beat the Oilers 8 to 1 and Quinn had a 3-point night. Throughout little moments during the game, Jim and Ellen would ask you different questions about yourself and share tidbits about Quinn; it was nice that they were actively engaging and getting to know you. You were worried that Jim and Ellen wouldn’t like you as a person and for their son but it turns out that they enjoyed your presence and it also didn’t hurt that it was really fun to cheer for Quinn alongside his parents.

After the game was over, you, Jim, and Ellen walked down the same tunnels to the Canucks dressing room that you had walked to over a year ago when you met Quinn for the first time but this time, you weren’t as nervous to see him. Still experiencing the high from the evening’s successful game, Quinn was so ecstatic to see you, waiting for him with his beloved parents. When Quinn had invited you to come to his game, he had imagined seeing you again in those familiar halls with his parents in his mind and that moment of imagination came true. In his post-game interview, Quinn had mentioned that he would hold onto the night’s memories forever and you would also hold onto those memories in your own way too.

————————————————————

Since the Canucks had to leave for a roadtrip after their home opener and you were leaving soon, you had one last day to both celebrate Quinn’s birthday early and also to do something to say farewell to you. Instead of just a big fancy birthday/goodbye dinner, you and Quinn decided to go out for a day on the golf course and out to a casual dinner afterward; you also had to run a few errands because Quinn needed to grab some things before leaving on his upcoming road trip. Quinn picked you up to go with him to drop off his parents at the airport so that you could see them again and he wanted your opinion on some things when he went to IKEA. The car ride over to the airport was fine and Jim and Ellen didn’t mind getting in some extra time with their potential child-in-law. You and Quinn stepped out of the car to help with their bags and give his parents a goodbye hug. While you were giving the Hughes family some space and waiting in the car, Ellen whispered in her son’s ear that you were a keeper. His mother was right and Quinn had known that from the moments that he spent with you, the conversations you shared together and you were everything he ever wanted. Quinn had the keys to unlock your heart but he just needed to use them. Throughout the entire time you were there, Quinn began mentally preparing himself to confess his feelings for you somehow but those plans always fell flat because the anxiety of not being sure if you liked him romantically lingered throughout the air and he was scared to ruin the friendship you shared. He was falling for you hard but he was afraid to take that leap.

With one final wave goodbye, Jim and Ellen left for their flight to New Jersey and you and Quinn continued on the day’s itinerary. Goodbyes were always going to be a bit difficult, no matter who or what you were saying goodbye to. Quinn tried to not wear his heart on his sleeve and be strong but you could tell that Quinn was sad to see his parents go so you reached over and gently placed your hand on top of his. Quinn told you thank you and you shared a quick glance with him before arriving at IKEA. Instead of immediately telling you how he felt, you and Quinn aimlessly wandered around the large store; you had mentioned to Quinn that his apartment was missing a floor lamp in the living room so that he didn’t have to use the overhead ceiling light as much and he took you to IKEA to help him pick one out. Thursday afternoons at IKEA were quiet so it was almost like you and Quinn had the whole store to yourselves. As you walked through the store, you and Quinn looked at the different room setups and asked each other what you liked and disliked about each room setup; you also both began to imagine what it would be like to share a home together. Quinn even absentmindedly grabbed onto your hand and your fingers interlocked together for a brief second before you found the lamps and slipped your hand away to look at them. You picked out a black floor lamp that matched the aesthetic of Quinn’s apartment and continued to wander around the store until you reached the cash register. Quinn didn’t try to hold your hand again and neither of you brought up that moment for the rest of the day. Your time at the golf course was fun; being the self-proclaimed golf expert he was, Quinn did win the game.

Quinn decided that he wanted to have his birthday dinner/last meal with you at Moxie’s. While you waited for your food to arrive, you gave Quinn his birthday gift. It was challenging to get a gift for someone who could afford plenty and rarely mentioned what they wanted so you got Quinn a signed copy of Golf Kitchen, a cookbook that included recipes from some of the most famous golf clubs around the world, and a grill set that looked like golf items; it combined two of his interests: cooking and golf. Quinn was a bit taken aback by your gift because you didn’t have to actually get him anything; your presence and time spent with him was a gift within itself. He had mentioned it before but Quinn was so grateful to have you as a part of his life and he was going to miss you tremendously once you returned home. You would miss him so much and were sad that your great time with Quinn was coming to an end; you still had an extra full day in Vancouver before your flight early Saturday but the Canucks were leaving for Edmonton on Friday after morning skate.

After dinner, Quinn walked you up to your hotel room and you and Quinn continued to soak up all of the time you had left together as much as you could before the inevitable departure came. Before leaving, Quinn passed you a signed warm-up puck from last night’s game, mentioning that he owed it to you. You held the piece of rubber in your hand, smoothing your fingers over his signature.

“So now, you own two things with my name on it”, Quinn cheesily told you.

You were trying to hold back your tears and masquerade your emotions but you began to sob while embracing Quinn for one last time. Quinn felt a bit emotional too and he blurted out that he was in love with you; he decided to be brave and not let the fear take over. You thought your mind was playing a trick on you when you heard him so you looked up at the green eyes that were staring and waiting for a reply from you.

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”, you hesitantly asked.

“Um, maybe I should have kept that to myself. I’m sor-”, Quinn rambled.

You cut Quinn off with a kiss, something that he had been waiting a while to experience with you. You repeated that you had loved Quinn back as well. A long wave of relief rushed over the both of you; the jump was worth the fall and you were there to catch him. You didn’t have to say it out loud but Quinn knew that you would always be there for him. Quinn asked if you were available to come back to visit him for Christmas and New Year’s. Maybe losing in a fantasy league wasn’t so bad after all.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #hockey fic #my writing #hockey writing #hockey imagine #please read my story

253 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 6 months

Text

What They Were Too Shy To Tell You! ♡ 🅿🅸🅲🅺 🅰 🅲🅰🆁🅳

⇢ a timeless tarot answer ⏳

image descriptions:

[ #1 guitar ] • [ #2 man w/ long hair ] • [ #3 shoes ]

NOTE ➝ physical descriptions included to confirm your pick! ready for the secret, beautiful person? ♥︎

🔓 select the image that evokes a memory the most. this pile reveals their words left unspoken because they’re too shy.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

💌𝓅𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝟣 - [★ a white guitar]

PAGE OF COINS | 4 OF COINS | 4 OF WANDS | 10 OF CUPS

☼ looks. As a physical clue, the cards show a young, dark-haired person like the diligent PAGE OF COINS. So if they are brunette or have black hair this is your confirmation. You might have seen them wear a green/brown shirt or a black coat. Their posture is memorable. It could be an earth sign (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) or they have strong earth influence in their chart.

Lucky, lucky you. They want to commit to you big time. No other goals to be found in this spread. In fact, they might even be saving up to move in with you, that’s how knee-deep they are in this. Wow. You’re their one and only treasure that they don’t want to let go at all. They absolutely have plans with you — to the point where they believe this to be a one-way street with no shortcuts, no others involved, as this person is utterly jealous and jumping to conclusions. And they’re right about wanting to cling to you! It’s because they see your worth and value, all of your good qualities.

This resourceful and superbly talented person wants to celebrate that they finally found someone. Even dance in the street, give a toast, bring you flowers. Growing old together is the end game, no messing around here. Spouse material is how they perceive you, a long-term partner. Your person does not play or look elsewhere: They want closure, they want to come home to you or vice versa, they want you being part of their family. Even take you to where they come from. Man, they’ve progressed this relationship so much in their head.

Maybe they’ve been so lonely, they want to seal the deal because a creeping fear of loss came up in them, tied up with financial worries. Still, they’re perfectly certain they can steer this relationship in a direction of stability instead of chasing, pining, yearning. So, this individual is in it to win it. All the lights are switched to green! Since they’re an utter fairytale reality romantic (oh gee... you don’t even know how much they idealize you ), they’re terrified of not being able to embrace you and having their happy ever after. Even if they were level-headed and realistic at first, now it’s rose-colored glasses all the way.

Yes, they’re greedy to have you. They want this to progress and everyone to know you belong together. But, in general, what they don’t tell you is just. So. Wholesome. Even their steamy thoughts. They are possessive of this opportunity you have, with all its potential. However, they think their anxieties will fizzle out once you made it official. That’s what they’re gunning for, anyway. Seriously, his person got your whole future planned out but they’re too shy to tell. It’s a secret how invested they really are, but their feelings are too strong to gloss it over sooner or later.

💌𝓅𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝟤 - [★ a man with long hair]

THE MAGICIAN | 9 OF CUPS | 5 OF CUPS | THE SUN

☼ looks. This person might be fairly tall with long arms as per the MAGICIAN card. All hair colors are possible, but especially black and blonde. Their signature clothing may be red, white, or dark. They wear it floor long often. Crossing their arms is a signature gesture of theirs. Your person could be a Gemini or Virgo, or have Mercury prominent in their natal chart.

Life in bloom: You make them so boundlessly happy. Really. It’s incredible. Free of worries. When you last departed (this could be online as well, though without swords in the reading, this might have been in person or in their fantasy at least), it was almost like a wonderful situation turned awful, however. How did that happen? Content and flirty as can be, they felt like having all their options open, you put no pressure on them. That just made them sit and beam. They felt like having all they ever needed, in fact.

Little did they know that being away from you depressed them so severely, they thought they’d lost it all! Even if that wasn’t the case, even if it didn’t last that long. But they went through this like a really painful time. Which was in a stark, gloomy contrast to how they felt before, which is why they keep this emotion secret, almost like they carry it under a huge cloak. You can’t see through it, but it serves to protect you by blocking you out for a while. Still, they’re looking forward to renewing the happiness they experienced before, feeling even more carefree because of you. This is childlike joy they’re experiencing, even after there seems to be a no contact situation, or a feeling of great loss at least.

Since this is the pile featuring the most Major Arcana cards, this situation will be more drawn-out, with a big and versatile personality involved, and a happy end that they envision in the future. It’s not about sealing the deal like in Pile 1, this is more about enjoying life just because and never looking back on all those tears. If there was a breakup or rejection involved, they turned it around for themselves eventually: Clean slate. From pessimism to optimism.

They really don’t want to admit how much you made them feel on top of the world, and then beaten down in grief or regret, too. They went through a whole rollercoaster, though they blame no one but themselves. As of now, they recovered, though you won’t see it. Their feelings of missing you ended on a good note and they knew letting you go was such a mistake preventing them from their personal healing. Rest assured they have no hard feelings, that’s what they wish you knew. And remember: It was them who put a spell on you, but they see you as absolutely magical.

💌𝓅𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝟥 - [★ impeccable shoes]

7 OF SWORDS | 3 OF CUPS | 4 OF CUPS | 2 OF SWORDS

☼ looks. As a physical clue, this person almost certainly has very curly hair (mind that they might somehow relax/straighten it), standing at medium/average height. They like flowing clothes or oversized tops, especially when they go out. They could own a red hat or bright boots. They might be an air sign (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) or feature strong air influence in their chart.

If your situation involves plenty of mixed messages, this is your pile. ��Fine without you... or not?” type of energy. Bit of a bummer, bit of a rough patch mentally. The most conflicting cards popped up right here. This person snuck out of your life, not quite stealing your heart but definitely grabbing hold of a bunch of thoughts about you that they want to keep without you noticing. Your person can be pretty frivolous, daring, not quite on track yet. As of now, they seem like they pay you no mind, or hide that they do.

They quickly went off to party their life away, but realized that they turned really numb. Gosh, they’re stuck right now. Even if they are shrewd for sure! How to decide? They need your help to get through this. How the situation last turned out was not ideal, particularly on social media. They were elated to see you or hear from you, but fell into a kind of inertia. Perhaps they ignore you, ghosted you, or simply didn’t realize how much you care about them.

Now they feel none the wiser, in fact, figuratively caught between chairs. There could be a third person involved and you don’t know a thing about them. They got away with not telling you at all after they departed. They met up with the other woman/man and had a good time, even. Now they’re bogged down, though, as the good mood was short-lived. They don’t want to admit that they feel guilty. Wanting to suppress it and drink it away is a topic here.

Emotionally, they’re not apologetic as they are too busy figuring this dilemma out in their head. Clueless is what I’m hearing. In an extreme scenario: To cheat or not to cheat, even. Until now, it’s all in limbo, they just didn’t inform you. Couldn’t inform you! They’re too confused and in a daze. As of recently, they don’t know what to do, and they could use a hint to tip their scales because they can’t handle this on their own. However, this situation is fleeting, and most of it goes down in their head rather than reality. They just need to choose wisely.

🍰 DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. the deck used is the classic rider-waite!

#pac #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot #pick a card reading #tarot reading #divination #witchy #witchblr #witchcraft #cartomancy #love reading #tarot pac

299 notes · View notes

hammysando · 5 months

Text

“Thank-You's and Goodbyes” Floyd Leech x Bullied!GN!Reader

AN: This is pure angst. Hurt and no comfort. Can you guys tell I really like to write angst? I SWEAR there is fluff coming soon- It's very similar to the Jing Yuan fanfic toward the end, but I like this one too XD. Anyway, don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed! And drop a comment if you so feel like it! <3 Reader is Gender Neutral!

Wordcount: 1.3K+ words~

Prompt: Nothing hurts more than almost. And being too late.

TW: Mentions of suicide, Major character death (Reader), Topics of bullying and grief.

Please read at your own risk!

More below the cut~

Floyd noticed them on a random Thursday, when he decided to be early to Crewel’s Potionology class. He had been ready to skip completely, but decided that if he wanted to pass the next lab, he'd better attend. He slunk toward the entrance, lanky frame bobbing slightly with his laid-back, slow steps. Though, his feet came to a stop as he heard sniffling from inside the classroom.

”Ehhh? Is someone already here?” He mused this to himself as he peeked into the room curiously.

Someone stood at the furthest desk from the doorway, head bowed as hot tears slid down their cheeks. They seemed to stare down at the desk for a while longer before wiping their eyes and taking out a cloth and tiny bottle of liquid from their uniform jacket. Quickly, they poured the cleaning solution on their desk before scrubbing away at something. This piqued Floyd’s interest as he stepped in and made his way over, his signature smile in his face. Bending down, he hummed in the student’s ear and spoke, voice playful and probing.

“Say, I haven't seen you before.” His grin deepened, dual colored eyes squinting slightly with mischievous amusement. “I'll call you flamefishie.”

Floyd Leech’s second encounter with this stranger happened when he came early once again. Except this time, he peeked over their shoulder as they started to erase black and red words off their desk. The ink ran and disappeared quickly, but Floyd could feel himself tense as the words flashed in his mind.

“Worthless freak.”

“Gonna cry?”

“I bet your parents are embarrassed of you because you're practically magicless.”

“Say, Flamefishie… Who-” The student broke away, leaving wordlessly and in a hurry. The teal-haired man didn't get a chance to say anything more. Floyd waited for them to return, but the one he had dubbed as “Flamefishie”, didn't show for the rest of Crewel’s class.

Their third meeting, occured when Floyd arrived at the empty classroom, early yet again for the third time. He was in a terrible mood, being stuck with Azul’s yammering about customers and the Monstro Lounge. Did he never learn to loosen up? What irritated Floyd even more, were the three students crowding around a certain desk. They snickered loudly as they marked up the poor student’s desk. Ah, what a perfect opportunity to vent a little of his anger.

In a few lanky steps, he was upon the three students. One, was from Savanaclaw, while the other two were from Flamefishie’s dorm. Oh, that somehow made Floyd feel more murderous. His looming presence alone was enough to silence the snickering as the three students turned slowly. Heterochromic eyes glared down at them intensely as he spoke, cheery voice a contrast to the expression on his face, and the terrifying look in his eyes.

“Say… So you're the three that make Flamefishie cry…?” He smiled cruelly and a little unhingedly as he descended. “I'll give you a count to three before I squeeze you all.”

It was safe to say that the three scrambled away without as much as a glance back. Floyd fixed his uniform tie before the sound of books thudding against the floor caught his attention. His head snapped up and he turned, to see the familiar student he had come into contact with a few times before. Their (eye color) eyes were wide, already filling with tears. Were they always crying? Before Floyd could say anything, another thud filled the silence as the crying student dropped their bag and rushed over, throwing their arms around Floyd. The eel man froze but threw his head back and laughed. This was a surprise. One that put him in a good mood. It sounded as if they whispered something to him under their breath. Something he couldn't make out, but decided not to bring up as he took their hand and dragged them out of class.

“We're skipping class, Flamefishie~!” And it seemed like they were okay with that.

There had been buzz around the NRC, about the death of a student. Suicide, the whispering said. They weren't known very well amongst the student body, but that didn't stop the solemn feeling of mourning to choke the air. Floyd had a bad feeling in his gut, suddenly. Wait a second… Months had passed since he saw Flamefishie. It irritated him at first. Were they avoiding him? Why? But soon their absence became a normal occurrence that he had gotten used to. But now, oh, what could he say to that horrible dread he felt sitting in his stomach as he raced to his potionology class?

Floyd stared down at that specific desk; the one that peculiar student occupied for every one of Crewel’s boring lectures. Disbelief ran through him before rage replaced it. But that rage quickly died as he stared blankly. There, sitting atop their desk, was a vase of orchids, soft and white. He knew what this was.

Under the vase, was a letter addressed to him. It was simple, the only embellishment on it being a scribble of an eel on the corner of the envelope. Floyd tore the letter open with slightly shaking hands, unprepared for what he would read.

Many students say you're scary. But… You were so kind to me. Especially that day. I'm so grateful to have encountered someone like you.

So thank you. And goodbye.

It wasn't even signed. Floyd felt his frustration, anger, and sorrow all boil over as he turned and kicked over one of the chairs violently. Was he stupid? He had never even asked them their name. Storming out of the class, he couldn't bring himself to look back, the letter clutched in his hands tightly.

The next few days were like a blur. And before he knew it, he was attending an assembly for that student’s death. It was a blur as well, and he wandered his way around before a hand on his shoulder caught his attention. Floyd flared up, ready to beat someone to a bloody pulp, but stopped when he recognized a familiar shade of (eye color) eyes, looking at him. For a second, he could feel himself grow hopeful before realization crushed him. No, this wasn't his Flamefishie.

“Floyd Leech?” A man’s voice sounded, calm yet laced with hurt and sorrow.

“What's it to you?” He spat this, feeling a bad mood coming on.

The man simply smiled slightly. “I'm… (Full Name)’s older brother.. I just wanted to thank you, for being the reason they smiled so much. (Name) never did much, as far back as I could remember… I don't know what you were to each other, but they seemed alive when they spoke about you.” He seemed to stop, smile faltering before it perked up once more.

“So thank you, for giving them good memories.” Floyd turned in that instant and left, scowl deepening until he found himself far away from everyone. The NRC campus was empty, every student having gone to that assembly. Without the suffocating air of sorrow and sadness, Floyd started to question himself. Question why he cared at all in the first place. They had barely known each other. They'd only encountered each other a handful of times. So why did the sadness eat away at him from the inside? Why did the sorrow burn his eyes so?

Floyd felt a tear hit his hand, followed by another, and another. He couldn't stop the rain clouds that had started to gather round his mismatched eyes. And a realization hit him. About why he cared. Why it hurt like this.

He loved (Name).

150 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 4 months

Text

Hyrule headcannons because :)

he doesn't actually understand Hylian Sign, he grew up in Calatia and knows their sign, but he's still new to Hylian anything, but since the others don't realize this, he sometimes gets left out of conversations

He's bi-lingual, Calatian and Hylian both, with a small smattering of Labryn

he absolutely loves sweet things, with a preference for sugary items over juicy ones

he tends to save extra non-perishable foods in his bag for a rainy day

he has a favorite type of bug, and yes, it's based off of flavor

he adores butterflies and likes finding out new kinds, because their wings are all so pretty and unique (he will not eat them)

he knows a lot about geology, just not the proper terms. he has his own vernacular for geological happenings, but he has a good grasp on the science of it all outside of that

he's better attuned to magical signatures than the rest of the chain

he likes Wild as a person, but while they share interests and habits, Wild's magic is strongest when he's doing what he loves and because his magic is Very Off-Putting, it makes it hard to be around him for extended periods

he has so many unspoken puns. Pun King. He doesn't think they'd be appreciated by the others, but he's biding his time until they're all comfortable enough with each that it won't matter

his favorite color is yellow because that's how his parents described the sun before Ganon's power corrupted the world

he's very good at weaving, and while art isn't his thing so much, designing new patterns for his fabric is a fun past time when he's very bored

because Hylian culture is new to him, he's been studying it a lot and, unlike the others, has already pieced together a rough timeline

he actually doesn't care much for his fairy form and only uses it when he needs to, mostly because he perfers the freedoms that having a larger body gives him, even if flying is nice

the idea of birds is still very new to him, and he tends to be off-put by bird-song and the sound of wings; the world making noise is still weird to him

while he's okay with having someone treat his wounds, he's very insistent about clean-up afterwards due to his blood being a key to resurrect Ganon. He's not above using Legend's hemophobia as an excuse either, if it gets him out of explaining

a bit of a clean freak in general, he likes to keep his items in perfect condition and organized, even his cave has precise places for everything

while birds are off-putting, he likes feathers, he likes collecting fallen ones to wash and tusk in his bag, not to use on anything particularly, just because they're pretty

he thinks cows are one of the most beautiful creatures in the world (Malon loves it)

he's very particular about gift giving; showing thanks is important, but giving gifts out of the blue feels rude because it makes others feel awkward, still, he'll make sure to return any gift given to him, usually with a particularly pretty feather, rock, or a small woven trinket

during long winters he used to build tiny houses with sticks to entertain himself, and his designs are very intricate at times

his favorite type of food (outside of sweets) is soups, he fully supports food being drinkable and when Wild introduced him to smoothies (sweet and drinkable) he fell in love

he loves art, although he doesn't care to try making it, but legend's sketching and Sky's carving have his full support and awe. Aurora likes to paint as well and he can spend hours just watching her work

he's terrified of babies, he's certain he'd either break them or get them sick or somehow screw them up, so bringing a baby in the room is one of the quickest ways to make him leave

in contrast, he loves cats and handles them like most people do babies

math whizz

#lu hyrule #linked universe #linkeduniverse #headcannons

124 notes · View notes

that-foul-legacy-lover · 8 months

Text

A Lesson in Fontaine Flora

Synopsis: Fontaine is, among other things, a nation of romance, and you find yourself at the mercy of one of its oldest traditions.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Fluff Warnings: Allusions to anxiety and battle

~ * ~ Someone’s been leaving flowers on your doorstep. It started about a week ago, right after you returned from a job on Elynas. Ready to collapse onto your bed for the night, you hadn’t even noticed anything until your foot brushed against the petals of a freshly picked marcotte, right on top of your welcome mat. Then the next day, a romaritime, and a lumidouce bell after that. Only one per day, but always freshly picked and covered in dew. Marcotte- “I treasure your friendship.” This type of thing isn’t entirely unheard of- quite the opposite, actually. Fontaine prides itself on being “romantical” alongside being the nation of Justice and Hydro- honestly, you’re not sure how many more signature traits one city can take. Still, giving flowers to someone you fancy isn’t exactly out of the ordinary in the Court. Many nobles even take time to study the language of the blossoms, arranging bouquets for their loved ones depending on what message they want to send; marcottes for friendship, pluie lotuses for gratitude, rainbow roses for love, and so on.

You just never expected it to happen to you- who would waste time giving flowers to a workaholic agent of the Marechaussee Phantom? Rarely were you ever home to admire them, although you found them beautiful, and you’ve never been good with plants, nor were you close to any of your coworkers other than a couple of the Melusine who looked up to you. All you could do was shrug and put any new blooms you received in some water, the vase overflowing with flora of all types and colors, and go on with your work, as a Marechaussee agent never rests. Somehow, the flowers haven’t withered yet. You admire them on cold, lonely nights, the sweet scent making you hum in the moonlight. Your new assignment is again on Elynas- something about rifts and odd magic summoning unearthly monsters- and you catch a quick ride on a passing ship, since the aquabus doesn’t go to Elynas yet. The air is hot and humid, your clothes sticking to your skin as you traverse the bone-scattered landscape, avoiding the rogue mekas and treasure hoarders. They’re not yours to deal with, not yet. Though it seems like someone else is already on the job, a few violently destroyed automatons blocking parts of the path, torn to shreds. The air turns dark and smoky as you approach a clearing in between the mountains, a symbol in the ground glowing oddly purple and patrolled by floating hounds. As soon as you get close they attack, snarling and howling at your unwelcome presence with blank, shining eyes. A few swishes of your blade makes them crumble, your skills with a weapon outmatching your need for a vision. Still, the sun has long set by the time you’re done clearing the area, using what knowledge you have of Teyvat to scrub any trace of the purple symbol from the ground, and by the time you arrive home you’re covered in dust and exhaustion.

Another flower lays near your door, a richly-colored pluie lotus, and despite your irritation your lips twitch up into a grin. Pluie lotus- “Thank you for being here.” You’re free from work the next morning, as you receive at least one day off every month, courtesy of Monsieur Neuvillette. Normally it’d be a blessing to have a break, for most people, but you always find yourself rather bored and restless, being so attached to your job. So you do what you always do- return to the site of your previous investigation. It’s just a once-over, you tell yourself. Just one more check, to be completely certain that the area is safe again, obviously! In truth it’s so you don’t go mad with boredom, giving yourself something work-related to do since it’s all you’ll worry about anyway. The beastly hounds haven’t returned when you make your way into the valley, and a smile of satisfaction crosses your lips, folding your arms and nodding firmly. Someone’s even cleaned up more of the clockwork mekas around the island, too! You know that your coworkers don’t bother checking sites they’ve left- why would they? Most of the time, there’s no need for it. But you do it anyway, for your peace of mind and to keep your heart from fluttering nervously in your chest, lest you worry yourself into a stupor.

A rustle suddenly sounds from a nearby grove of trees and you whirl around, one hand on the hilt of your blade. You scan the area slowly, eyes landing on a pair of… something sticking out from behind the branches, red and slightly curved, unlike any plant you’ve ever seen. You take a step forward and the red things emerge- they’re horns, attached to the crimson mask-like face of an otherworldly creature, several feet taller than you and covered in black and violet armor. The creature tilts its head, blinking its single crystalline eye, and you’re met with a gaze of clear, hopeful blue, like the sea. It’s monstrous. It’s Abyssal. It’s beautiful. Yet you still move to unsheathe your weapon, ready to defend yourself at any minute. The Abyss is like a poisonous flower, dazzling but deadly- that is what Monsieur Neuvillette tells each and every agent of the Marechaussee Phantom, so that they don’t get swept away by corrupted waves- and the monster’s eye widens, taking a step back. It whines softly and lowers itself towards the ground, towards your height, trying to appear smaller. When you don’t strike first it slowly moves closer, small chirping sounds slipping from its fanged maw, and you stiffen as it reaches for you, grip tightening around your sword.

But it doesn’t attack- no, instead it extends a hand, and in its palm lays a perfect rainbow rose, freshly picked. Your mouth hangs open in shock, gasping as realization seeps into your mind, blooming like a bouquet of flowers speckled with stars. The fingers around your blade loosen and fall, instead moving to delicately grasp the rose by its stem, the horned beast’s claws gently brushing against your skin. The petals of the blossom lightly touch your nose as you breathe in the pleasant scent, the scent you would catch wafting from perfume shops but always refused to indulge in, unsuited for such luxury. A gentle smile spreads across your face, your features relaxing from their stern expression for the first time in months, and through the sound of running water comes a deep, rumbling purr of adoration and delight. Rainbow rose- “I love you.”

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #foul legacy x reader #sfw #genshin sfw #genshin fluff #fluff #tartagalia x reader #just something short and cute about a topic that's been sitting in my head for a while #i saw all the pretty flowers in fontaine and i was like yeah. that's perfect #i love the image of Foul Legacy holding out a delicate flower to you #by the way he doesn't know what most of them mean #he just knows that he's seen humans give them to people they seem to like #so he gives you all the flowers just to make sure #anyways this probably makes no sense but it's fine i had fun #he saw you on your first mission on Elynas and fell in love #genshin fic #wifi writes

272 notes · View notes

typingfool · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐃 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday is the most affectionate when it's time to sleep, much to your dismay.

Warnings: one of Wednesday's death threats.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Maybe a bit OOC but I love that headcannon that Wednesday shows a bit of her soft side whenever she's sleepy, though to very certain people. Enjoy :)

You’ve been pestering Wednesday a healthy amount. Even avoiding your own friends to spend time with her, though, you seemed to have regretted that decision, just a little bit.

In the bed of your girlfriend’s, you laid on your wing to the side, listening to the loud tune of Pathetique outside, as Enid chats with Ajax through the phone. The wing in which you laid on stayed motionless, asleep, that when you reached your hand to feel it, it didn’t feel like your own body, but instead someone else's'.

Wednesday is doing her nightly cello playing, as she did when she first got here. You admired her passion, consistency, and dedication to her schedule. You admired her writing. You admired her creativity. You admired everything about her, flaws and all. You admired her.

“You just don’t know how to show it,” Enid says loudly, probably referring to you more than she refers to Ajax. It made you grimace, seeing as your friend looked out for your emotions that weren’t shown much on display. “But, you know, I’ll notice anyway.” She continued. The feathers on top of your head, that certainly will get you a scolding from Mrs. Davidson, the second normie teacher to teach in Nevermore after the accident with Lauren Gates, felt as if they had melted and left two side-eyeing holes.

“He doesn’t even know you notice.” You looked up, adjusting your position on Wednesday’s bed. It had been a couple of months ever since you were back in Nevermore. Ophelia Hall’s stayed the same, the sense of nostalgia hit your vision, making your wings flutter in response.

Enid stood up from her bed, grabbing her pink snood from the end of her bed. Her hair, unlike before, was much longer now, reaching past her shoulders. Blue and pink are still evident at the ends of it. Her face is more developed yet keeping the innocent Enid Sinclair charm (as Eugene would call it).

“I’m going to Ajax’s dorm,” She secured her phone in her pocket, rummaging through her closet as she pulled out a blue snood. You couldn’t protest with what she said, since the werewolf always deserts you every time, she pries you about something. She left a bunch of clothes on her bed, making it look like gnomes vomited rainbows. “Talk to her,” Enid motioned her head to the window, referring to Wednesday. “And call me when you both are done making out.”

You stood up from your position swiftly, almost making you black out. “You mean making up!” You half-yelled, vision still blurred though enough to see that Enid has gone with the door closed.

As if on cue, Wednesday walked through the spider-like glass, a squeak of noise echoing in the dorms. Her hair still tightly kept in her signature braids, one on each side, both equally parted. Her small, scattered, and cute freckles were much, much visible – probably due to the lack of makeup she wore today.

Speaking of wearing, the clothes she wore are always black. This time she wore a comfortable black tee shirt (she learned her lesson to never wear white shirts over black bras years ago, not that she was going to wear the color white again) and parachute-like pajama, black pants. “Stare at me like that again and I’ll poke your eyes out.” She threatened, papers held in her hand, though from your perspective, they were weapons.

“Sorry… you’re just-” You stopped mid-sentence, a grimace forming in your lips, a small one so as to not drift the conversation apart quickly. “I haven’t been this near you in a while.”

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours. “I’m 2 meters apart from you.” She didn’t waste any time walking closer, not to you though. She placed her musical sheets in a category of folders, each one of them either being black or transparent.

“Wednesday,” You called, not to test her emotions or lack of eye contact, to simply call your girlfriend. “You say you’re allergic to colors… how does that work?” You asked cautiously, as she dipped down the bed next to you. Your wings fluttered, wrapping around her side subconsciously. She didn’t pull back, leaning in against the soft feathers.

Wednesday began undoing her braid. “I’m not allergic to it.” She answered in a soft tone, yawning under her hands right after. “Just have a different reaction to it than everybody else.” She explained, she stood up to place the hair tie on her desk. She dipped back down her bed, pushing your wing aside carefully as you stood up. She laid on her side, not staring at you.

You didn’t want to pester her any further, although you remembered Enid’s words; talk to her.

In response to her answer, you questioned. The thick air was choking back your questions. At the simplest and shortest eye contact from Wednesday, you wanted to continue. “Why?” was all you could ask, short and curios were your tone. Interested filled your smile.

“Don’t,” She started, gazing down her lap. “Smile like that.” Wednesday stood up from her lying position, crossing her legs. Her eyes locked down her pants, minding their own business.

Wednesday Addams, nothing like her sweet mother from what you’ve witnessed during vacation, she wasn’t exactly like her father too. She is Wednesday. She did not inherit after her parents’, but, as her own personality. The girl who was prophesied to kill an entire school, the girl who changed that said prophecy.

She is brilliant. And you remembered yourself, following after Lauren Gates through the cave. You remember yourself freezing when she was stabbed, not knowing exactly what to do. And a ghost, much like Wednesday herself, healed her every wound. Seeping in through her.

You could still feel Goody Addams in Wednesday Addams. You felt the stronger push and pull through her heart. And it felt even more promising as you are talking to her right now. Wednesday’s energy is strong and complex. Right now, it’s at ease. And it was evident in her body language, shoulders relaxed, legs crossed with one another.

If it didn’t seem like she’s relaxed. Her heavy eyelids were about to shut though she kept it awake, certainly spoke for themselves. “You should sleep,” You whispered, pulling yourself up from the bed, sighing. You could talk to her tomorrow. And you could call Enid tomorrow, as well. If she isn’t in the detention office already.

“Must you go?” Wednesday pulled you lightly from the wrist, showing the frailty in her tone. Sleep caught on with her looks now.

You shook your head, sitting down on the bed, facing her this time. “I can stay…” Your voice trailed, then, you remembered you were talking to an Addams. “If you want me to.”

Wednesday looked conflicted but gave a sharp nod. Her eyes drifted to your wings, leaning in before giving them a light touch. “It’s so soft.” She whispered; voice sleepy. Her body weight leaned in against you. “Why is it so soft?”

You laid down to your side, tapping on your wings for room. Wednesday stared down at you, before she laid down. “They’re called down feathers, y’know like the clouds.” You answered, softly kissing her hair, the bridge your nose tickled.

Your hands were wrapped around her. She kissed your palms lightly. “Sleep.” She commanded and you could not help but oblige. Your wings wrapped around your body and Wednesday's, like a blanket.

The personal warmth cuddled around the room. Before closing off into your dreams, Thing sat on the table. “G’night, bud.” You say, smiling as he formed a small heart with his fingers.

The next day, Enid was in the detention office, smiling as you passed by.

#pax writes 🕯#wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday fluff #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x ajax #wednesday angst

920 notes · View notes

jaybirdswriting · 8 months

Text

Love Language Prompts: Gift Giving /Receiving (・ω・)っ由

A: Character A leaves little wrapped gifts all over the house for Character B to find. They're finding them up to six months after they first appeared.

B: Character A makes up fake holidays so they have an excuse to give the people they care about gifts.

C: Character A keeps a list of all of Character B's favorite things so they always have a good idea of what to get them.

D: Character A wraps all their friends gifts in personalized wrapping paper.

E: Character A gets Character B a little something every single time they go the store. (EX: A soda, a candy bar, their favorite fruit, etc.)

F: Character A thinks Character B doesn't appreciate their gifts that much. Until they go in their room for the first time and find all of them proudly displayed on their dresser.

More Undercut

G: Character A always buys Character B gifts in a certain color they think suits them. (EX: A character with purple eyes is always given purple gifts.)

H: Character A once came home to their entire house filled to the brim with flower bouquets.

I: Character A gifts Character B their favorite childhood toy that they lost long ago.

J: Character A nearly dies saving a gift Character B gave them because it meant so much to them.

K: Character A's outfit is covered in little pins that Character B got them.

L: Character A has a really niche interests and hobbies. Somehow Character B always manages to find a gift revolving around it anyways.

M: Character A was afraid to admit that they love receiving gifts because they don't want to seem materialistic. When they eventually confessed, Character B gave them a wide grin and told them that they love nothing more than getting someone a good gift.

N: Character A always kisses the gift before they give it to Character B. They say they carry more love that way.

O: Character A doesn't even know how Character B gets certain gifts for them. They'll just come in the door like "I found you this sword that was made in 1800," and Character A can only respond with "How the hell did you find a sword that was made in 1800?"

P: Character A gifts Character B a family heirloom to let them know that they see them as part of their family.

Q: Character A gifted Character B their most signature outfit item.

R: Character A kept the wrapping paper from the first present Character B gave them.

S: Character A makes Character B their favorite sweet treat for every holiday and/or big occasion.

T: If Character A says they like anything Character B is already pulling out their wallet.

U: Character A is always giving Character B the most heartfelt gifts. They once gave them a jar with a 100 pieces of paper that had something they loved about them written on it.

V: Character A loves to pay for events to spoil Character B. Whenever they go out to eat or get coffee it makes Character A so happy to get the bill.

W: Character A thinks they're going to die during a mission. Therefore, they give their most precious object to the person closest to them.

X: Character A had to put a price limit on Character B because they love buying them extravagant gifts.

Y: Character A cries when B gives them a gift because they've never received a present before.

Z: Character A gifts Character B a music box with their favorite song playing inside.

#writing #writeblr #prompts #writing prompts #oc prompts #otp prompts #romance prompts

152 notes · View notes

dabisqueen · 9 months

Text

Slimeball line cook Dabi x fem!Reader 🦠

⇢ word count: roughly 1.8K

⇢ plot: sex on the beach

⇢ warnings: Minors DNI, line cook!Dabi has a lot of dumb pick-up lines up his greasy sleeves, smoking, drinking, unprotected sex, creampie

This is my submission for the Wet Hot Slimeball SUMMER BLOCK PARTY– hosted by @bastardblvd Pls don't take my shitty writing serious.

It's a hot and humid summer night, the heat of the bonfire making it even worse, with the flames illuminating each sweat-drenched face of the present Grimetown residents.

Who's dumb idea was it anyway, to do this during the summer?

You wipe the salty droplets off your forehead, thinking that at least you can enjoy looking at the scantily dressed men present. It's been a while since you’ve done it with anyone in Grimetown, the latest hook-up with sex shop owner Gojo needing you to go on Plan B.

Nonetheless, you feel needy tonight, like a horny teenager. The heat between your thighs undeniable, you take a deep breath, your breasts almost busting out of your skimpy bikini top.

Popping open the can of "Tramp Stamp", Grimetown's signature beer, you lift it to your lips to take a generous sip. The instantaneous taste of sulfur and cooked cabbage spreads in your mouth, making you shudder and cringe.

What the–

Turning the can, your suspicion is confirmed when you see the expiration date. You sigh, taking another sip, ignoring the beer's foul taste. At least, it still makes you drunk; plus it's for free– courtesy of Landlord Sukuna.

Accompanied by the shouting and jokes of the Grimetown residents, you watch Naoya - fully dressed - stumbling uncoordinatedly along the shoreline, asking repeatedly in a slurred voice if someone has seen his pink bikini.

The wish for someone to rail your brains out outgrows you, and – as you take another sip of the beer – a certain dark-haired figure approaches.

"Give me that–" Toji stops just a few feet away and stares at your drink, his large, muscular figure towering above you. "I'll pay you in nature."

Looking him up and down, you notice the large swell in his pink bathing trunks. Despite the urge to hook up with him for the night, the horde of rats at his feet, staring at you with their soul-piercing eyes, makes you shudder involuntarily. Your gaze snaps up to his face, eyes locking with his vibrant green ones.

"No thanks. Go and get your own." You take another sip of the beer to punctuate your words.

His expression turns sour, the scar across his lips contorting when the corners of his mouth pull down.

"'You serious?" His eyes narrow at you.

"Yup." Shrugging your shoulders, you focus all of your attention back on the almost empty can of beer.

"Cheap skank," he mutters under his breath, before he turns to saunter in the direction of the fire, with the rats following, yelling, "Who do I have to fuck to get some beer around here?"

As the bonfire continues to roast you from the front, a movement catches your attention and you turn to look.

"What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?" You hear a raspy voice, so husky and deep that it instantly spreads a warmth between your legs.

Dabi, the cook at the local burger place "Cum n Eat", comes to a stop in front of you, a half-smoked cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. His hands are buried deep in his rainbow-colored swim trunks, lazy-lidded sapphire eyes gleaming down at you from above bright pink sunglasses.

"Oh for God's sake–" you grumble impatiently, "I already told Toji: go get your own fucking beer."

You roll your eyes and chug the remaining lukewarm dregs, feeling it burn down your esophagus.

"I don't want your beer." He eyes you up and down. "Nice bikini. Can I talk you out of it?"

You almost choke. Blinking at him once, twice, you try to determine whether he's serious or not. But Dabi just grins, stepping closer and propping his sunglasses on his head. The bitter, tart smell of old grease and cigarettes starts to envelop you, as your attention is drawn in by the growing swell in the front of his trunks. Instantly, you feel a surge of pleasure light up every cell in your body. Your throat bobs as you swallow, your mouth filling with saliva.

"Are you seriously pulling these lines on me?" Your eyes quickly flick up to meet his, trying to hide the fact that you're somehow turned on by his sleazy approach.

"If it works, it works." His eyebrows drift upwards, sly and smug, as his gaze drops down to your chest.

You notice with embarrassment how your nipples have pebbled up, their hard outlines visible through the thin fabric of your skimpy bikini top. You flinch and cross your arms over your chest, your cheeks starting to take on a pink hue.

"I think we both know what we want." Dabi looks at you a little more intense– hungrier.

You feel captivated by the striking aquamarine pools of his eyes and despite his grungy appearance, they have you imagining plenty of naughty things about him.

Fuck, you want to bang him. Badly.

"Ok, what do you have in mind?" You breathe, surprised at how needy you sound.

"Why don't I put you on my to-do list?" His tongue sneaks out, wetting his lips as he starts to stroke his cock over the fabric of his swim trunks, making it strain against his swim trunks.

"Well– better cross me off then." You reply and stand up, brushing the sand off your butt with your palms.

With a satisfied smirk, Dabi steps closer to wrap his fingers around your wrist, pulling you with him towards some protruding cliffs in the distance.

Finding a small recess, Dabi shoves you in and pins you against the coarse rock, your meaty tits squishing against the hard surface. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he trails his free hand down the curve of your ass and pulls your bikini bottom to the side to reveal your soaked, throbbing pussy.

"Damn girl," he chuckles as he blows out the smoke, "You're slicker than the floor of my burger place."

"Shut up," you pout, wiggling your buttcheeks, "and fuck me already."

"Can't say no to that, right?" Hooking his thumbs under the seams of his trunks, he pulls them down just enough to free his aching, pierced cock. It smacks against his abdomen before hanging heavy under its own weight, precum dripping off its tip.

Dabi sighs out another drag of his cigarette, eyes lazy-lidded, pumping himself a few times before aligning his eager cock with your aching pussy.

"I’m not a dentist, but I'm gonna give you a good filling." He growls betweed grittey teeth. Yet, you swallow back a snarky response, the teasing of his fat bulbous tip against the tight entrance of your pussy too distracting. Only a breathy moan escapes your lips, indicating how ready you are.

He dips down and the scent of cigarette smoke grows strong when his lips graze the rim of your ear. "Ready for this hot, fat Bratwurst?"

"For fuck's sake, Dabi–" you groan, "Cut it out already!"

He chuckles and takes another drag of his cigarette. Then he snaps his hips forward, plunging into you with one firm thrust, quickly stuffing you to the hilt. It tears a garbled cry from your throat as you collapse against the cold rock, your legs giving out as you struggle to accept him inside you.

"Fuck, your cunt's hotter than my cigarette." There's the barest hitch in his breath, his eyes glued to the sight of how your pussy is clenching around his girth.

He gives you hardly any time to accommodate before pulling back and forcing you to take his full length again. You bite your lips trying to suppress another strangled moan– but then he starts an even, savoring pace.

The slow drag back and forth of his cock suddenly turns into quicker, fuller thrusts when he loses what’s left of his patience. It's all that you need, the rough friction of his barbells against your spongy walls feeling too delicious, and you can sense your orgasm growing closer and closer.

“What a sight,” Dabi rasps, watching his cock disappear relentlessly into your sloppy wet cunt with stunned awe. His hips pick up speed, pushing in and out, faster and faster, your needy moans and his throaty grunts inaudible over the cacophony of laughing, drinking, and shouting of all the others down the beach.

"Fuck," you curse, your head rolling back as you gasp for air, feeling the rough friction with each swirl of his hips.

"How do you like your eggs in the morning? Fertilized?" Dabi pants, as you eagerly meet every frantic jolt of his hips, "Cause I'm gonna cum inside of you."

"Shut the fuck up–" you cry, cunt clenching around him, "Just make me cum!"

His hips start moving even faster and each plunge into your pussy sends his cock reaching impossibly deeper inside. The sound of his length squeezing into your tightening pussy grows louder and lewder.

"Shit—” his breathing turns heavy, his jaw drops open. The cigarette tips from his mouth and onto your panties, burning a hole into them before falling on the beach sand below.

"Don't stop," You plead, feeling your climax just around the corner, your mind starting to swim. "Just like that, just a little longer!"

A broken groan leaves his lips and you feel a stutter in his movements before he stalls completely. A wet heat starts to fill you up as his cock twitches inside you, pumping you full of his sticky cum.

"Dude, what the fuck?" You turn your head, your own climax denied, leaving you utterly unsatisfied.

"What?" Dabi's lips pull up into a cocky grin.

"I didn't cum!" You whine.

"Not my fault–" He tsks and withdraws from you with a lewd wet sound.

"You're a slimeball!" You yell, his cum dripping down your thighs onto the sand below,

"Never said I wasn't," he chuckles while tucking himself away.

Turning on the spot, Dabi saunters off towards the bonfire. Angrily, you watch after him, still trying to regain your bearings when he starts jogging before it becomes a sprint. A familiar dark figure, surrounded by a swarm of rats, is standing by his beach towel, reaching down to grab a vacant can of beer and you hear Dabi yell, “Toji, get the fuck away from that or I’ll put your pets on my menu!”

REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED!

#dabi smut #dabi mha smut #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x you #dabi x reader smut #dabi x you smut #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #dabi my hero academia #mha dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #linecook!touya #linecook touya #tw smoking #cw smoking

240 notes · View notes

papasbaseball · 2 months

Text

Raphael x Reader (Till Death Do Us Part)

+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING

Pairing: Raphael x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Coercion. You sign a contract without reading that indebts you to Raphael. Mentions and descriptions of torture (flaying(not done to the reader)).

Summary: You went looking for a lawyer to help with your divorce. Always read what you sign or you might end up in bed with the Devil.

Word Count: 2,379

Notes: This was inspired by the CONTRACT THAT WE ALL SIGNED WHEN WE INSTALLED BG3???? Definitely did not read the Terms and Conditions. Someone suggested that Raphael was Larian's lawyer and well... here we are.

AO3 Link

He wanted the house, the new Mercedes you bought last month, and alimony to boot. For a cheater, he certainly footed a high bill.

“And you didn’t get any evidence of his… infidelity?” The crooked frown of your newly acquired lawyer, Raphael Hope, betrayed the polite substitution. His eyes ate into his skull in a fashion that spoke of many a long night and too many encounters with jackasses. Perhaps in private company, he would not be so quick to bite his tongue.

The words came out tightly. ”I came home early from work and that’s when I saw him…screwing my cousin on the brand-new sofa.”

He walked to the minifridge in the corner of the room, fetching a bottle of Evian. He sat it to the side of your consultation folder. You thanked him quietly, letting your shoulders fall as the coolness of the water slipped and soothed your hoarse throat that you had earned from a night spent on your coworker’s couch.

”A pity, really,” he said. “To throw away a marriage to someone as exquisite as yourself? I would not blame you if you thought all men to be fools.”

His words and the bass he put into them forced your gaze to the consultation folder, intent on figuring out if the font of “Hope Law Firm” was serif or not. His eyes glowed a genuine amber that reminded you too much of sparks from 3 years ago.

”I didn’t come here to flirt, Mr. Hope,” you said, taking another sip of water.

”I am a man of facts. It is only the truth.” Putting a black marbled pen to the notepad of his padfolio, he continued, “No evidence will make it difficult to win in court. You are certain there are no texts, no photo-“

”There’s nothing,” you interrupted. The golden nib stopped scratching, fire lighting in his eyes.

”Please-“ He blinked and it vanished, his face set once more in cool professionalism. “We have ways of getting evidence, but most people find it to be out of their price range. Think very carefully, dear.”

The blood crept into your cheeks at the endearment. Your soon-to-be ex-husband had always called you “babe”. It felt commonplace and cheap, the kind of sweetener that a boy might use to get into his college girlfriend’s pants. Raphael's words smoldered on his tongue and felt anything but commonplace. The crisp suit, the soft but styled chestnut hair, the smoky cologne that promised wealth and wins in the courtroom. If Satan had built the perfect lawyer, it was him.

You shook your head.

He sighed, sliding a thick cream-colored paper out from the back of his padfolio and over to you. The page's weight was increased by the bold black letters across the top: AGREEMENT. You flipped the paper, surprised that the back was blank.

”Read it if you would like, but this permits us to do our own snooping. We have a 100% success rate, but our methods are… unorthodox.”

He had no website boasting wins or guarantees when you’d gone looking for a lawyer, but the newspapers had done that enough for him. Win after win gilded his name on every article in the news tab, tales of mob bosses and politicians clearly guilty getting off. You knew this was coming.

Biting your lip, you took the pen that Raphael offered you and scrawled your signature as quickly as you could across the bottom. Better to be fast than to change your mind. A sigh of disappointment from him froze your hand.

”You should really read things before you sign them, dear.”

With a wave, the doors slammed shut, window shades dropped, and sconces gleamed an angry red. The table and chairs vanished in a cloud of ash and smoke that swept up the walls, devouring the dark blue and mahogany into volcanic stone veined with bloodied quartz. Scrambling towards the exit, you watched as the door and handle were soon too devoured by that awful smoke.

”Let me out,” you begged, turning to face him. “You can’t keep me here.”

”Can’t I?” he chuckled. “I must… per our contract agreement of course.” The cream-colored paper floated up into his palm, having survived the incineration of the room. “From this day forth, I do agree to be willingly at the service of Raphael of the House of Hope until he sees fit to relinquish me from his company.” He laughed at this, directing his darkened gaze toward you. “It is not often my servants are so rare in beauty.”

“My roommate-“

”Will not miss you,” he finished. “Nobody at that dead-end job loved you. No husband at home to cry for your absence. No children to weep for their mother’s milk.” His pupils burned hot like dying stars against an obsidian sclera, raking over your body. “At least not yet.”

He stalked you into the corner like a lion, a smile forming when you whimpered as he got too close. Another sweep of the hand and the contract engulfed in flames to reveal a great dagger, golden from hilt to tip—the point nestled under the tip of your chin.

”What should I do with you, little mouse?” He crooned, cocking his head to one side. “So careless. I can’t have that in my service.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” you breathed, trying to ignore the tear that slipped down your cheek. The dagger tip pressed into the delicate skin, raising you until you were standing once more. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

”Of course you will,” he said. “You have no choice.” He drew closer until you could taste the tart cherry undernote of his cologne. “I would like a taste, dear.”

Your fingers trembled reaching for the soft charcoal lapel of his suitcoat that rose and fell with each breath. It stilled for a moment as you looked up into his face. A sharp brow quirked, highlighting those wicked eyes. A weak tug of his lapel earned you a smile and he bent just enough for you to touch your lips to his. His hand slithered up your back as if he had done this a thousand times before, a modest touch enough to set your nerves alight. Your tongue flicked across his smirk, and he parted those unforgiving lips.

Whether he was a devil, a trickster, or some other creature made no difference. His cool indifference sparked something within you, however small. His hand splayed across your back, pushing you into him to be devoured. The sharp line of his nose pressed into your cheek, a small groan as if he were devouring a cake that was soaked in the sweet fruit syrup of the summer sun. You pressed your tongue into his, desperate to taste the honeyed words he’d used to get you to let your guard down so easily. Your legs were soon wrapping themselves around his waist.

“Greed looks good on you, little mouse,” he said, dipping his head to trail kisses down your jaw.

“You’re a monster,” you protested, voice breathless and hungry for more of his lips and tongue.

He nipped into the crook of your neck. “I can stop if you would like. Denying you your pleasures has its own charm.”

You gasped, grabbing a handful of his soft hair as he licked and sucked. Your mind toyed with the idea of trying to escape, but every time you got close to the plan of finding an exit the thought slipped away into the lust of him pressing you up against the jagged wall, knife still to your chin.

“Mr. Hope-”

“Your Excellency,” he cut you off.

The stabbing points of the rock behind you retracted and you watched the darkened cave transform into a room decked in gaudy red and gold with ceilings high enough to house God. He carried you to the bed made softer than sin, kneeing open your legs.

Light glimmered over him to reveal a monstrous form, complete with horns that looked like twisted stone and demonic crimson wings that served as a terrifying backdrop to your captor. Black claws shredded the woolen skirt, pantyhose, and pink satin panties that you picked out that morning, leaving scratches on your stomach in their careless destruction. A growl at the sight of the warmth that you offered him was all the warning given before he finished butchering the turtleneck and lacy bra.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you, crushing you until the only words from your mouth are “Yes, Your Excellency”. Given how wet you are, it should not be long.”

You crawl back further onto the bed, away from him. “I’m not.”

“Please. Even a human could smell the way your cunt is aching for me to stretch it and fill it.” He crawled onto the bed after you, pulling your legs apart once more, bringing his face close to your needy sex. “Would you like to see how a real man does it?”

Your ex always had an excuse for refusing to go down on you. One night he’d claim that his jaw locked up easily, the next he’d say he preferred only freshly shaven. They were endless to the point that you had stopped asking. Raphael nipped at the skin of your inner thigh, begging you to answer.

“Are you going to bite me?” you stuttered.

He smiled. “Would you like me to?”

You grabbed one of the rough horns, guiding him towards your pussy. His tongue glided through your folds until it found your clit. The dying stars looked from under his brow in eager sadism as he suckled the bundle of nerves between his lips. Your back parted from his bed and you shut your eyes as bliss clenched through you.

“Watch me or suffer,” he growled before returning to his ministrations.

Your eyes snapped open as you watched him toy and tease, nibbling and flicking in a new and exciting way with each gasp and whine. He would push you as close to the edge as he could before backing off in cruel delight, mocking your weakness as you pulled futilely on his horns.

“Is there something you want, little mouse?” he said.

“P-please.”

The tip of his claw circled your abused clit. “Please, what?”

The pride stabbed in your throat, trying to claw its way out. “Please, let me cum… Your Excellency.” The words tasted like battery acid, but they satisfied that shit-eating grin of his.

His mouth glistened with your juices as he kissed you deeply once more. “I will think about it.”

The shimmering light swept over him once more to reveal his naked form. Despite him being a monster, you whimpered when you caught sight of his cock. It was built for a creature much bigger than you, a deep red of coagulated blood and wrapped in ridges.

“It’s not going to fit,” you pleaded, digging your nails into his biceps as he pulled away. They slipped out of your grasp and he shouldered one of your legs and then the other.

“Relax. You are too tense.” He lined the tip up and slowly pushed the head in, flaring his wings in response. “Gods you are tight. When was the last time you were properly used?”

It was difficult to hold onto the last remaining bits of sanity as he slid in further. You clench in protest, feeling the burning pain as he stretched you fuller still. “I-” You groan as he slips further in. “N-never..”

His lips brushed gently against the fresh bruises on your neck, picking them over to find a spot unmarked by his hunger. He stopped pushing, letting you adjust to him. “A pity. I can’t wait to flay that bastard after I finish him in the courtroom.”

His hips pressed forward once more until he had buried himself to the hilt. “Would you like that, my little mouse? I can let you watch as I skin slice after bloody slice off of him. Torture him just enough and then make him watch as I claim your cunt and fill you deep with my seed.” He rocked into you, simulating his wicked plan. “I want to hear him scream as I finish what he couldn’t.”

You groaned as he pushed into you again, stretching you even more. He pulled out and buried himself into you again and again. His claws bit into the flesh of your hips. The thought of him torturing your ex as he fucked you mercilessly put a lurch in your stomach, but it was quickly washed away thinking about the power of Raphael at your side in the courtroom. Giving him the just desserts that the legal system refused to give would be the cherry on top of taking everything from him. The rush mixed and intertwined with the lust bringing you closer and closer toward the edge.

“I-I’m…” you said.

He snorted. “So easy.” The amusement in his voice went straight to your core. He quickened his pace once more. “Cum for me, my little mouse.”

His teeth sank into your shoulder and it sent you tumbling, wave after wave gripping him in desperation. The movement of his hips stuttered after a few more thrusts and you felt the burning heat of him as he growled into your flesh, filling you with the filth of a devil.

He removed his teeth from your shoulder and slid out of you, leaving you aching and wounded. Reaching into the top drawer of the nightstand, he pulled out a gilded cigarette, lighting it with a flash of magic. He took a long drag before reclining back on his side of the bed.

You crept close, wincing as you propped yourself up on your injured arm. His eyes were focused on the far-off paintings on the ceiling. “Did you mean it?” you said. “About torturing him and making him watch?”

The devil exhaled the sweet cherry-scented smoke out of his nostrils. “After I beat him bloody in the courthouse, yes.” He took another drag. “Why?”

You plucked the cigarette out of his clawed hand, taking a drag yourself. “I want you to kill him when you’re finished.”

Raphael smiled, snatching the cigarette back. “Till death do us part.”

#raphael x reader #smutty smut smut

49 notes · View notes