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#A BEAUTIFUL MAN who deserves the world
baalzebufo · 6 days
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said goodnight to one of my boys, Jules, the other day - he was a beautiful old man who loved bothering people and I want to share some pics of him being silly :) he loved jumping up to be as in the way of my pc screens when i played games as possible and generally sitting on any unoccupied lap as soon as he saw it. love him lots ❤️
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MAC!!! GOOD EVENING!!!!!! im thinking soo hard abt interesting fairytale things rn but also. i would LOVE to hear abt ur danny phantom thing?(images aren't loading for me but i think? graphic novel? normal novel?? 👀) ??????!!!! i'm peripherally interested in dp on the basis that my beloved mutual (u) is into it & im!!!! curious!!!! whys it so good!!!! tell me!! free infodump card for u 👀👀👀
THIS ASK IS A MISTAKE. BEWARE. FUCK. DUDE I COULD TALK ABOUT DANNY PHANTOM FOR SO LONG IM NOT EVEN KIDDING IVE GOT . NEARLY 20 YEARS WORTH OF LOVE FOR THIS SHOW. I AM 23 YESRS OLD. THATS HOW SERIOUS I AM . IM.*THE* DANNY PHANTOM GUY THERES A REASON ALL OF MY USERNAMES ARE DP REFERENCES. ohhhh my god. where do i even fucking start. i guess ill start with agit but im still so overwhelmed with love that i have not fully processed yet so prepare for this to be a total fucking mess of words
so. the show ended in.. 2007. and. god the last episode sucks so fucking bad. bad enough that the fandom as a whole collectively agrees it does not exist it never happened . phantom planet isnt real phantom planet cant hurt you if you dont look at it or think about it ever. i could go on a whole. rant about how much phantom planet sucks but instead ill just say butch hartman (<< creator of the show) is a fucking. annoying awful person and he was greedy + wanted more money from nickelodeon than they were willing to give him so they gave him a hard limit on episodes before the shoe would be canceled. so. season 3 goes downhill SO fast and ends with the fucking disaster that is phantom planet . and !!! you know how disappointing it is to have your facorite show have a garbage ending!! it sucks!! so then there was like. a HUGE HUGE long silence where there was. 0 canon content bc hartman considered it a flop and kind of just. abandoned it until he wanted clout (there were a few gameboy games that came out after the show ended + some nickelodeon games that included danny as a character + butch made a youtube channel where he would spout absolute death of the author garbage about the show every time he wanted attention but it was mostly dead silence) UNTIL. AGIT. A GLITCH IN TIME IS THE FIRST CANON SHOW COMPLIANT CONTENT THAT HAS BEEN RELEASED SINCE 200 GODDAMN 7. FUCK . and not only is it canon compliant it is ALSO A CONTINUATION OF MY FAVORITE EPISODE IN THE WHOLE SERIES.
so. my favorite episode. is ultimate enemy. it was one of the 4 movie-length episodes and the basic premise is. danny uses his ghodt powers to cheat on a huge standardized test and this sets off a butterfly effect reaction that leads to a timeline where his family + friends get killed in an explosion and he loses his mind and turns into the worlds most powerful villain <3 you can see why i like it so much im sure (<< guy who has a documented chronic weakness for stories where a good guy turns bad etc)
SO AT THE END OF THE EPISODE. Dan (the evil future danny) is trapped and locked away forever . but at the end of the ep theres a scene that hints to a possible future episode where he escapes !!!! so there was always a teased sequel but this sequel was never created due to aforementioned. budget issues and cancellation. etc. buggest disappointment of my life. UNTIL AGIT !!!!!!!!!!!!!
it was released. july of this year . and i am just reading it now bc its been burning a hole in my bedside table bc it never felt like the right time to read it until this morning for some reason. and fuck its so good its literally everything i wanted.
i dont know how involved butch hartman was in the creation of it but the author (gabriela epstein) is obviously someone who cares deeply about the show and the characters and im so fucking happy about it she did an incredible job. i literally had to pause a handful of times in the first few pages just because the characters and dialogue were written so well and it was like SUCH a breath of fresh air (the fandom is. so bad. its so bad. because its been around for so long people have such insane warped takes on a lot of the characters and its become completely unbearable to me ive had to block the tag and its so painful. this is literally the only reason i am not reblogging dp content constantly. i have to filter it through artists i know can handle the characters properly. if i was not nerfed by the awful fandom it would be 24/7/365 dp lockdown and id be so unbearable) OH ALSO not only is agit a continuation of my alltime favorite episode, it also retcons the garbage pile that is phantom planet in a way that acknowledges that it was a real thing that happened but going back on it in a way that feels so so so so natural for the show. so it wasnt a throwaway "no that was bad lets forget about it" it was a well crafted well thought out "this was real and it sucked and the characters remember it BUT we can play with timeline so things will continue as normal" and . holy shit it was so fucking good. i will begrudgingly acknowledge phantom planets existence if only for agit.
uhhhhhhhh fuck this is so long and i am running our of directed steam so if i keep talking i will just start rambling about the intricacies and holy shit dude i could literally talk about danny phantom for hours and hours and hours and hours if theres anything else u want to know i am the guy . i am the guy forever
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smallblueandloud · 2 years
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me, in tears about a video about parents accepting their queer kids: oh man. Oh Man. okay. okay! okay i'm going back to my normal life now! i'm gonna try to write a fanfic >:D
me: the fanfic is for les mis, so i'd better put on the soundtrack to get into the right mood!
me, halfway through scrolling through spotify, tears still in my eyes, thinking fondly about how much pain "a little fall of rain" usually causes me and how i can't wait to put it on again: Wait. Wait This Might Backfire
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thekingofchungus · 2 years
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im his beaufriend
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I miss high(and middle) school people kinda, at least my closest friends there.. somehow the people there are more eager to learn than the people here..? Like fuck it's uni why are we discussing about randos instead of the hard ass bio lesson we just had???!? YOU'RE ALL ARE IN THE NATURAL SCIENCE TRACK DAMNIT
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zarameraki · 3 months
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♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you
: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
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Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  
You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.
"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 
Please cut your tongue off. 
Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 
“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."
“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 
“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 
Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.
Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.
"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"
Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.
"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.
"An intern's birthday."
"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"
"July third."
Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."
“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 
"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."
Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 
"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 
“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 
“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"
Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”
“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  
You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.
“Well?” Nanami prompted. 
"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”
Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."
Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"
"Yes."
“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.
"What do you mean 'why'?"
His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"
"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.
"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"
"Mr. Nan—"
"You are being scammed." 
Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 
But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.
He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.
Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.
With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”
Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 
You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.
What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.
During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.
Toji never showed up.
You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.
The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 
With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.
The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.
As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.
At least that was free. 
Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 
The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.
A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.
“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”
“Good night.”
With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 
You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 
You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.
Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!
Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 
“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 
He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 
A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."
“Factually speaking, it is white.” 
You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 
“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 
You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.
"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"
Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.
A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 
You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 
Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.
Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.
And you kissed him back just as needy.
If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.
You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.
Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.
Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.
“I'm gonna—”
“I should—”
Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.
“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.
“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”
“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 
“Night-night.” 
Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 
Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—
A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.
"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.
That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.
The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 
The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.
With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 
Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 
As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 
Anxiety surged through you in an instant.
Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?
A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.
It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—
“Good evening.” 
“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.
But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.
You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.
"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.
Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"
“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 
“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 
"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.
“Do your parents live here?” 
You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 
“I apologize.” 
"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”
Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 
“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 
“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 
Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 
“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 
Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"
"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."
Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 
“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 
And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.
"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 
“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 
Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.
Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 
"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."
“What?” 
Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."
Oh, my. 
Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 
He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."
At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.
Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.
You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.
As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 
“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 
“Yes, darling?” 
Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”
Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 
“No,” he said. 
You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 
“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."
"Kento—"
"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."
You could explode. 
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 
As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.
Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 
When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 
Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 
The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 
The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 
He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 
“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 
“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 
Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 
“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 
Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.
"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."
All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 
Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."
"What is it?"
Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.
As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.
Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”
"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.
“Y/N.” 
“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 
He surrendered instantly. 
Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 
You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.
At least, you were both Team Cats.
Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.
Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."
Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.
The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.
So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.
"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.
"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 
Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 
You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."
"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."
Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."
“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.
“Come on now.” 
You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.
Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.
He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 
As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 
“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 
Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.
“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 
“I own the building.” 
Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.
The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.
“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 
“Yes, it seems so.”
Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 
Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 
“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 
“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 
"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"
"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.
But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 
“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 
“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"
"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.
"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"
He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.
"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"
Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 
You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"
Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."
As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.
Oh, God. 
You loved him. 
You loved him so much.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 
“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 
Your breath hitched. “What?” 
“Move in with me.” 
“Kento—”
“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."
Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.
Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.
6K notes · View notes
bewitchedsouls · 1 month
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princess treatment with simon
warning : use of the word wife
• simon is the kind of man to tell you to sit down as he gets on one knee and puts your high heels on for you and straps them when you’re getting ready to go out for a date night
• simon who will come up behind you, move your hair to the side and gently run his fingers down your naked back and feel the goosebumps as he goes to the bottom of your dress to zip it up for you without you even asking
• simon who will open every door for you, (don’t you dare get out of that car yourself), if you even try he will gently put you back into the car, close the door on you and then proceed to open it again, because simon is a gentleman and will never be caught not opening the door for you
• simon who escorts you into a room with a hand placed on your lower back as he rubs slowly up and down to soothe the both of you
• simon who will pull out your chair for you and once he’s pushed it back in before taking his own seat he will lean down and place a gentle kiss to your temple
• simon who tells you before you even leave the house to keep your purse at home because you are his beautiful wife and he believes you shouldn’t pay for a single thing
• simon who tells you to pick anything you want from the menu, any drink, any food, don’t even look at the price because he does not care, you deserve the world and he’s slowly trying to get that for you
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hxltic · 8 months
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ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)
(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)
pt. 1~~~
It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.
The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.
You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.
Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.
“Wait—”
There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.
He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.
Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.
He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.
Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.
The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.
He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.
Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.
He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.
“Please. Wait.”
You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.
Do you book it, or stay?
You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”
He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.
His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.
Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.
He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.
So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.
He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.
He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.
But that was far from what he wanted to say.
He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.
The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.
These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.
. .
You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.
He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.
Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.
He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.
He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.
Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.
He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?
With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.
And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.
So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.
He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.
His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.
You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.
The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.
A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.
You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.
Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.
“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.
You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.
Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.
“Fuck!” you yell.
The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.
Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.
You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.
“Get out,” you demanded.
“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.
You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.
He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.
He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.
Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”
No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.
“When did-“
“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.
He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.
“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.
To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.
“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.
“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”
He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.
“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”
What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.
“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”
You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.
You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.
It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.
You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.
“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”
You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.
Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.
And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.
You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.
“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”
You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.
“One,” he starts.
Were you ready? He was going to-
You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.
You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.
“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”
You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.
“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.
“I know baby, I know.”
. .
You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.
“You alright?”
He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.
You just nod.
He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.
The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.
“I just wanted to say—”
“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.
“Please?”
His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.
And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.
“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”
Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.
“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”
Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.
“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”
You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.
You would be pissed too.
But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.
“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.
But you already had an answer.
“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.
His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.
“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.
On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.
“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.
He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.
And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.
this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor
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asternautica · 9 months
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ohproserpine · 2 months
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ii. deer dolly
part i | part ii | more | ao3
tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, unsettling & obsessive behavior, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, unwanted advances (not by alastor), murder, graphic descriptions of injuries
As the days unfolded into weeks, Alastor remained true to his word. A routine soon formed between the two of you: he would make regular visits to the speakeasy, engage in polite conversations with Mimzy, and take his usual seat to enjoy your performance.
In time, Alastor's interactions with you grew more intimate. And one night, following the success of one of your busiest night and biggest show, he surprised you with a beautiful necklace. Pulling you into your dressing room, Alastor asked for permission to formally court you. Without hesitation, you agreed, and in a burst of affection, proceeded to kiss him within an inch of your life. 
Since then, Alastor had begun to take you on dates outside the speakeasy. He whisked you away to quaint diners, lively jazz joints, and even introduced you to his mother—a sweet woman who welcomed you with open arms.
Throughout your time together, not a single one of your performances escaped Alastor'. Why would they? For him, your shows were the very essence of color in his otherwise dull and monotonous existence. His devotion to you almost mirrored religious fervor as he attended each of your shows like an impassioned disciple in the dimly lit speakeasy pews.
Your voice became a spell, luring Alastor like a foolish sailor drawn to a siren's call. In those moments, the world faded away, and he followed the melody with an irresistible pull, captivated by thoughts of you, you, you.
Only you.
Tonight, however, was anything but ordinary.
Alastor, following his usual routine, occupied his customary spot at the pub, savoring his whiskey with slow sips from his glass. However, the comforting rhythm of the night, which he had grown used to, was broken when the band screeched to a halt, the shrill notes of the violin cutting through the air. Immediately, the pub erupted in a chorus of boos and shouts.
Alastor blinked, his smile turning strained as he noticed a man stumble onto the stage. It was clear that he was intoxicated, moving about as gracefully as a headless chicken, as he made his way towards you, nearly knocking you off your feet.
Noticing the commotion, Mimzy clicked her tongue, slammed her drink onto the counter, and swiftly rose to her feet. She rushed to the stage, the glitters on her vibrant dress catching the dim lights of the speakeasy.
“Why, I oughta—" she began to seethe, as she stomped towards the stage, finger wagging in the air. “That’s the fifth time this week, Giovanni!”
"Ah, Mimzy! Jus' wanted to surprise my sweetheart," Giovanni slurred, his thick accent muddled as he clumsily leaned into you, head tucking into your neck.
Snap.
Alastor felt a visceral reaction, something within him snapping as the glass in his hand cracked under the strain of his grip. The fractured crevices dug into his skin, and golden liquor seeped out, mixing with crimson red blood.
As a regular performer at this pub, your popularity was unquestionable, and Alastor was not entirely pleased with the attention you garnered from other men. If given the opportunity, he would have you whisked away from this place. In his eyes, your voice was too lovely for a place like this. Your talent deserved a grander stage than the confines of this tacky establishment.
“Ahah,” you smiled awkwardly, shuffling away and shrugging the man's arms off of you. “Not your sweetheart, Giovanni…”
"Are you not happy to see me, carina?" Giovanni’s voice dropped to a whisper, his hand dropping to grip you by the waist. He leaned his face in closer, and you cringed. The man's breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were a bloodshot red. “Come on~ I came all the way to see you.”
“Ya' can go see and do whatevah the fuck you want with her after the show!” Mimzy scowled, stomping her heels onto the wooden flooring. “Can't have a moment of peace in here. Someone get him off my stage!”
"I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" Giovanni retorted, his anger bubbling over as he lashed out, kicking the microphone stand in Mimzy's direction. She barely dodged in time, the crash of the mic hitting the floor drowned out by the screeching feedback.
"Please. Just go," you pleaded, your patience wearing thin. "Why? Why do you always have to make a scene?"
"Ay, carina, don't get bratty with me. Let's talk in the back," Giovanni insisted, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he attempted to pull you off the stage. But before he could, Mimzy's guards intervened, forcefully yanking him away.
"Hey! Get ya' hands off'a me!"
Turning around, you rushed to get off the stage, but Giovanni somehow managed to break free and extended his hand, trying to grab onto you. Panic welled up within you as his hand reached out, but relief followed when he was abruptly stopped by none other than Alastor.
"Now, now," Alastor's voice had a lilt as he held onto Giovanni's wrist, but the venom woven into each word was unmistakable. His ever-present smile stretched wide, serving as a clear warning. "Causing a commotion isn't the best way to impress a lady."
"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wring his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled and adjusted his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.
"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wriggle his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled, adjusting his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.
"Ha ha! Kind sir, when someone disrupts a delightful performance, it becomes everyone's business," Alastor laughed, the sound of it tinged with sarcasm.
"But I must commend you. My, that impromptu performance of yours was quite remarkable; you truly made a wonderful spectacle of yourself!" Alastor's grin widened, his mocking tone drawing out laughter from the crowd.
Then, Alastor bent down to meet Giovanni face to face, his amusement fading. 
“Though I think you've overstayed your welcome, no?” Alastor's grip tightened around Giovanni's wrist, the pressure leaving bruises in its wake, hues of purple, green, and blue blossoming beneath the skin.
Alastor's grin turned sharp. "You will leave. Now."
"F-Fuck are you gonna do if I don’t, aye?" Giovanni spat, attempting to maintain a façade of bravado despite the pain. He tore his hand away from Alastor's grip, cradling his wrist. "Ya' think you can tell me what to fucking do?!"
"Hmm. I would at least advise you to salvage whatever dignity you have left and leave. If you had even a dust of intelligence in that hollow head of yours, that would have been the first thing you'd have done," Alastor chuckled.
“Damn right. Ya ain't got no fuckin place in my establishment,” Mimzy scowled, snapping her fingers and gesturing towards the men surrounding Giovanni. “Take him away, boys!”
As Mimzy’s goons surrounded him again, Giovanni sneered, "This ain't over."
"Oh, my dear pal, I assure you, it is very much over. The lady has made her wishes very clear," Alastor grinned.
With a final snarl, Giovanni was forcibly led away from the scene, his protests fading into the background as Mimzy's guards escorted him out. Mimzy wasted no time, bustling backstage and barking orders to her staff to clean up and prepare the stage once more.
Alastor's charismatic facade returned as he turned to you, though a glint of irritation lingered in his eyes. "Apologies you had to see that, cher. Let's hope the rest of the evening proceeds much more smoothly."
"I hope so." With a sigh, your gaze shifted downward, and you spotted his injured hands. The glass he had broken earlier had left wounds all over his calloused palms — not deep, but enough to draw blood.
Concern etched across your face, and you gently touched Alastor's hands. The radio host, accustomed to your touch by now, allowed you to inspect the damage.
"You're hurt," you pointed out, caressing his skin.
Alastor met your gaze with a reassuring smile. "Ah, this is just a trifle. A mere inconvenience, I assure you! My, I've endured far worse during hunting, darling! This is hardly worth mentioning."
"But—" you began, only to be interrupted by his finger pushing against your red lips.
"Worry not, cher. I'll take care of it. There's no need to play nurse," he spoke with finality, as if this was a matter not open to further argument.
"Alright," You managed a small smile. "I am really sorry things turned out this way, Al. I didn't know Giovanni was going to show up again. He's always been like that for as long as I can remember. I told him to stop but he never does."
"No need for apologies. None of this fault is on you, darling. Though it does add a touch of excitement to otherwise mundane affairs, doesn't it?" Alastor chuckled heartily, though you sensed there was a bitter undertone to his laugh.
"Excitement? That man is a shitshow just waiting to happen," Mimzy returned and walked up to both of you, rolling her eyes. "And I thought I got rid of him for good..."
Suddenly, she leaned in with cosmetics in hand, deftly swiping lipstick across your lips and delicately brushing blush on your face. "Now come on, dollface, let's get you back to that stage."
You realize you're still on shift, but the thought of performing feels nearly impossible at the moment, especially with all this lingering adrenaline in your system. Admittedly, you're a bit shaken up, and all you want is to curl up by Alastor's side and savor the night with a drink in hand. 
"Oh, Mimzy…I'm not sure I can really perform right now, love. I feel…" you slowly trailed off, faltering under the weight of Mimzy's hardened gaze.
The blonde cooed out your name, her fingers gently wrapping around your arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down. "Dollface, you're not here to question; you're here to perform! Alastor here has been so kind to get rid of your little problem. Now, let's get back up on that stage and do what you're good at."
"Pardon?" Alastor snapped with a raised brow, his usually jovial tone replaced by a sharper edge. "Well, I don't mind in the least. In fact, I rather enjoyed putting that simpleton in his place. I'm sure your patrons can afford to wait, can't they? This poor dear is still shaking in her heels!"
But you intervened, mustering a smile and smoothing down the wrinkles on your dress while nervously tending to your hair. "Oh no, Al, it's alright. Mimzy's right. I can't just let one man ruin my entire night."
With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, taking a moment to compose before adding, "Besides, the show must go on, right?"
Alastor paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied your nervous tics. The radio host silently appraised your form for a few more seconds before eventually giving in. "Hmm, very well. If that's what you wish."
"Thank you, Al," you whispered with a smile, tilting your head up to press a kiss against his cheek. Your lipstick had left an imprint on his bronze skin, but he made no move to wipe it off.
With a chuckle, Alastor leaned back into you and returned the gesture warmly. 
"I'll take care of everything, doll," he whispered, voice low, before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "He won't ever bother you again."
Confused, you blinked up at him with those bright eyes he loved so much. "How do you plan to do that, Al?" you asked, but he ignored you, staring at you with that unsettling look in his eyes again.
Alastor suddenly raised your hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with gentle pecks, causing your mind to blank and cheeks to go aflame. 
Tapping her foot impatiently, Mimzy's irritation grew as the display of affection lingered longer than she deemed appropriate. With a swift swat of her hand against the man's shoulder, she hissed at him. "That's enough outta you!"
Alastor smirked to himself and began walking back, seemingly satisfied with the subtle disturbance he had caused. He was such a bastard, but he was yours.
With a shake of your head and a smitten blush gracing your cheeks, you returned to the stage. The blinding spotlight enveloped you as Mimzy tossed the microphone back into your waiting hands. 
Meanwhile, Alastor reclined in his seat at the booth, his gaze fixed intently on you as you resumed your performance. The audience, having brushed off the brief interruption, eagerly redirected their focus to you.
Rabbit, rabbit! Won't you run away? Don't give the farmer all his fun today~ He'll get by without his rabbit pie. So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run!
As you neared the end of the song, Alastor joined the crowd's applause, rhythmically snapping his fingers together.
Wonderful, as always.
.
Snap.
The sudden, jarring sound shattered the stillness of the forest, followed by a shrill scream that seemed to shake the trees. Giovanni's hands instinctively shot down to his ankle, where his bone had twisted in a gruesome sight that sent bile rushing to his throat. However, he had no time to inspect the damages as a rustling bush caught his attention. Desperately, the man began crawling on the ground, doing his best to move farther away, dragging mud and dirt all over his body.
"Don't give the farmer his fun. Fun. Fun," emerging from thick shrubs, Alastor sang lowly as he continued his slow advance, relishing in the fear that emanated from his prey. He raised his hand, fingers idly tracing over the red mark on your lips, and if he focused hard enough, he could still feel the burn of your affections. "He'll get by without his rabbit pie."
The dense forest around them seemed to close in, casting eerie shadows as Alastor's menacing silhouette moved closer. Giovanni, now gasping for breath, cast terrified glances over his shoulder, desperately searching for an escape route.
"So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run," Alastor continued to trail after the man, his axe slung over his strong shoulders, a sinister grin etched on his lips.
Ah, it had been so long since he last pursued larger prey, opting for smaller catches like rabbits and squirrels lately. This, however, was a different kind of pursuit, and the thrill was delicious.
“It's rather unsavory to disrupt a live performance,” Alastor mused, gripping his axe and running his bandaged palm along the side of the blade. "Oh, the misery! Each performance interrupted, a masterpiece marred!"
“Though I suppose you redeemed yourself with your own impromptu circus show,” Alastor snickered, reaching down and seizing Giovanni’s sprained ankle, dragging the screaming man back toward him.
"Good show!" The radio host grinned as he pressed his feet against Giovanni's back to prevent him from escaping. Alastor raised the axe high, the glint of the blade reflecting the crazed gleam in his eyes.
"Now, let's see how this act ends."
With a practiced swing, he brought the blade down, chunks of flesh and blood spraying onto his clothing and skin from the impact. Alastor laughed as the light gradually faded from the man's eyes, his once-struggling arms and legs now falling limp.
“What a show!”
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wysteria-bloom · 3 months
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▨ " you give in so easy "
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JJK characters react to you taking their hand off your thigh
Genre : mostly sfw, suggestive
Warnings : Sukuna :)
A/n : OBSESSED with jjk atm. Yuji is fucking KILLING it as a main character I'm so in love. Requests are 100% open, ESPECIALLY for jjk.
Characters : gojo, nanami, sukuna, geto
⟢ gojo satoru ␥
Would literally be SO POUTY afterwards. Because what the hell did he do? Would try it again and again and again until you eventually give up because he's petty like that and when you do he gives you the most cheesiest annoying obnoxious little shit grin and raises his brows at you as if to say," I win." Pulls you in for a cuddle after that because he thinks you're adorable when you give in to him, cooing a," you give in so easy, hon~" right into your ear.
⟢ nanami kento ␥
WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?? Would think he did something to annoy you today that he wasn't aware of. The second you do it bro literally does a full turn towards you and is like," how about you talk instead of insulting me like this." You'll need to tell him it's a prank quick or else he might actually fall out with you for the rest of the night. An apology is definitely in order as well. Nanami deserves the fucking world, after all. You kiss across his face until he tells you to stop, which he never usually does. He just sort of basks in your affection any chance he gets with that serene little smile on his face.
⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥
Oh lord... not a smart idea. On the first time you do it, he just glares at you silently before putting his hand back on your thigh because who the hell do you think you are preventing him from touching what's his? The second time you move his hand? His hand moves up your thigh and inwards, like he was warning you. Third time? Moves up again. Fourth time? You're gonna have to stop before his hand cups something else. When you stop he just grumbles," That's what I fuckin' thought." and keeps his hand there, thumb caressing your inner thigh teasingly until you decide to do something about it.
⟢ geto suguru ␥
Geto is usually a very reasonable man. He doesn't let his emotions get the better of him. But let's say he's had a pretty shitty day and you just happen to want to pull this prank on him at the worst possible moment, his resolve may just snap. The first time you do it, he frowns at you expectantly, waiting for you give him some sort of explanation. The second time you do it he was quick to grab the meat of your thigh again and have a tight grip on it, a sweet little smile on his face," You're testing me tonight aren't you, beautiful?" He cooed out lowly with those dark eyes of his glinting at you challengingly. Yeah, you don't try anything else after that... or maybe you do and you have to buy a new bed frame the next day.
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bbyjackie · 6 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡
one piece social media + dating pt. 2 feat: zoro
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♡ liked by ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K and 6.5k others
_ynln: who are you where do you live how old are you why are you so fine how do you like your eggs cooked in the morning?
tagged: theroronoa.zoro
theroronoa.zoro: sorry i have a girlfriend
↳ _ynln: damn, not even one chance? 😔😔
↳ theroronoa.zoro: nah (liked by p1rateking_luffy)
sogekingg.usopp: is your boyfriend single (liked by p1rateking_luffy)
↳ _ynln: USOPP WTAF 😭
↳ _ynln: stop trying to steal my man, get your own bro
↳ sogeking.usopp: now i don't support homewrecking, but.. ☝️😋
↳ _ynln: BUT????
blackleg.sanji: PLEASE YN PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️
↳ _ynln: no
lovenami: WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!?
↳ lovenami: WE WERE MEANT TO MEET UP TWO HOURS AGO WHERE TF ARE YOU
↳ _ynln: SORRY NAMI IDK EITHER ZORO DRAGGED US SOMEWHERE AND WE GOT LOST 😭
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♡ liked by FRAAANKY, trafalgar_d.law and 9.8k others
theroronoa.zoro: zoro. thousand sunny. 21. my gf invented me. like my eggs however yn likes them.
tagged: _ynln
jinbe: Very cute post (liked by nicorobin)
lovenami: anyone wanna jump off the ship w me?
↳ ace: yes 😁
blackleg.sanji: MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESS YN 💗💞💕💝❤️‍🔥
blackleg.sanji: I WILL DEDICATE MY LIFE TO YOU
_ynln: ZORO QWDHBIVEFBQOBJ
_ynln: i love u sm??
↳ theroronoa.zoro: apparently you don't cause why is there question marks
↳ _ynln: GEEZ OKAY I LOVE U 😭 (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: i hope y'all break up
↳ _ynln: DAMN KID WTF WHO HURT YOU
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♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, p1rateking_luffy and 10.3k others
_ynln: drinks on?
tagged: lovenami
lovenami: drinks were on that random guy at the club 😇😇
↳ blackleg.sanji: @theroronoa.zoro HOW DARE YOU NOT PROTECT THEM FROM CREEPS 🫵
↳ theroronoa.zoro: he was supplying all of us with drinks why would i chase the guy away
↳ lovenami: real, i wasn't gonna pay 400 berries for a pint 🥱
blackleg.sanji: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN THE WORLD IN ONE PHOTO?? 😍😍😘
blackleg.sanji: what did i ever do to deserve this 😩😩‼️
S0U1K1NGBR00K: May I see your panties?
↳ _ynln: absolutely not thanks (liked by lovenami, theroronoa.zoro)
p1rateking_luffy: LAST NIGHT WAS SO FUN 😄😄
p1rateking_luffy: THANKS FOR BUYING ME FOOD 💗
↳ _ynln: luffy wait what i didn't buy you anything?
↳ _ynln: OMFG DID YOU JUST DINE AND DASH???
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♡ liked by _ynln, nicorobin and 17 others
[close friends]
theroronoa.zoro: nice 👍
blackleg.sanji: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS
blackleg.sanji: I AM SO JEALOUS
_ynln: best nap ever (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
p1rateking_luffy: I wanted to play tag but you guys were sleeping?
ilovecottoncandychopper: Yn looks like she gives good hugs! (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
↳ _ynln: CHOPPER GIVE ME HUGS ANYTIME ❣️❣️
sogeking.usopp: get this off my timeline right NOW 🫵
↳ _ynln: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SUCH HATERS 😭😭
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moonchild1 · 5 months
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
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hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
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a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬  DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it? 
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury. 
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
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one shot
blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need. 
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. 
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
 ↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
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↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
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kookslastbutton · 5 months
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
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a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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yueebby · 6 months
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hii omg I love ur fics sooo much they're really helping me recover from.. gege. I was wondering if I could request gojo x drunk!reader. like maybe they come back from partying with geto and shoko and are just completely tipsy. but they're reallyyyyy affectionate and flirty and gojo literally goes insane like his heart can't take it . bonus points if reader won't stop peppering him in kisses.
"you're sooooo hot.. and- and strong! ohmigosh are you single?" AND MANS IS JUST BRIGHT RED.
preferably fem-reader thanks ^__^ <333
drunk in love — gojo satoru
contents. fluff, established relationship, alcohol (drunk!reader), gojo being gojo, youre drunk and in love but gojo loves you more
notes. anon your request was so cute i just had to write it TT i kind of got carried away from the original prompt.. but enjoy this as a form of therapy from that one eyed cat!! ps i hate drinking so idek if this is accurate :>
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the night had been long, and shoko is starting to regret letting you consume what felt like half your body weight in drinks during your night out in roppongi. impatiently, she checked her phone, hoping for a response from gojo to her text message. huffing in frustration, she turned to geto, “i thought you called him. where is that idio–”
"shoko, who is that?" in your drunken stupor, you shamelessly ogled the stranger approaching the entrance of the bar. shoko facepalmed as she watched your intoxicated heart eyes for the snow-haired man.
"she's all yours now."
gojo chuckled when he saw your inebriated state, "what did they do to you?" he had just returned from a tiring mission, but seeing you was enough to lighten the weight on his shoulders.
you shifted your gaze between shoko and the handsome stranger, causing mental whiplash. a mumbled apology escaped your lips before you left shoko's side to get a closer look at the man.
amusement danced in satoru's eyes as he observed you stumbling toward him. as the loving boyfriend he was, satoru wrapped a strong arm around your waist to prevent you from tripping.
you placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself, and couldn't help but notice the firmness of his physique. "so strong," you hiccuped, running your finger down his chest, "and handsome... are you single?" you blinked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.
suguru, watching from the sidelines, struggled to stifle his laughter as he observed his best friend's face growing increasingly red. the way you were looking up at him was driving him crazy. satoru cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to regain his composure though it was hard with the way his heart was beating so erratically.
"do you not remember me, sweetheart? your strong and handsome boyfriend?" satoru's glossy lips turned down in an exaggerated pout, and you gasped, confused on how you'd forgotten a face so beautiful. it was dangerous, how tempting the man in front of you looked.
giving in to your impulsive thoughts, you grabbed his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together. satoru’s eyes widened as he noticed your intent on his puckered lips.
with an impish grin, you planted a series of quick kisses on his cheeks, then moved to his lips.“how,” kiss. “could i,” another kiss, “forget,” kiss, “such,” kiss, “a handsome face?”.
suguru and shoko watched in mild horror, as you showered gojo with affection. a dopey grin spread across his flushed face as he allowed you to have your way with him. he's afraid he might implode from the how adorable you were.
“i’m the most handsome man in the world, yeah?” he asks you with a grin, encouraging you to answer as he pulls you closer by the waist. satoru couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve this, but he would gladly repeat it tenfold if he could relive this moment once more.
you nod happily. “the most!”
“well aren’t you lucky to have me as your boyfriend.” satoru flashes his cerulean eyes at you above those dark sunglasses of his. just when you think he can’t get any hotter, he proves you wrong.
your friends' silent presence is suddenly shattered by laughter, jolting you back into the awareness of their company. satoru’s grin dissipates into a frown when he sees that your attention is taken off of him.
"'[name] is lucky to date him,' so he says," shoko giggles. "suguru, do you remember that one time satoru pretended to be a waiter at the restaurant [name] was on a date?" shoko not-so-secretly says to geto. "he got all drunk and then started rhapsodizing about how he was going to marry her."
satoru gasps at the memory of his awkward pining days. his attention quickly diverted back to you, anticipating your reaction.
suguru hums, “ah, or that one time he got distracted and nearly got us killed on a mission all because [name] sent a selfie.”
you pull away from satoru’s hold and he swears he feels all the warmth leaving his soul. his hands instinctively reach out to you, but you’re one step ahead, already making your way to the evil pair in front of him.
“really?” you ask the two, eyes shining eagerly.
shoko nods, an evil grin growing on her face, “you seriously never noticed that stupid dazed look he has when he sees you? even yaga has noticed it.”
gojo’s jaw drops at the sound of his best friends’ attempt to embarrass him. in his defense, he was just a man in love! satoru's infamous pout returns, and he’s trying to pull you back into his embrace and away from those traitors. to his dismay, you ignore him. did you even know that he was dying by the second without your affection?
“tell me more!” you gush, entranced with the idea that your boyfriend was just a lovesick puppy.
“is that really necessary?” satoru mumbles under his breath, though the telltale reddening of his ears betrays his indifferent facade.
“toru i didn’t know that you were obsessed with me,” a giggle erupts from you. to show your adoration, you turn back to cup your boyfriend’s face. he leans into your touch immediately.
“i still am y’know,” his gaze softened. your heart melts at the way he lowers his voice.
“i can’t watch this any longer,” the short haired female gags, searching her coat pocket for a much needed cigarette. suguru agrees silently, tearing his eyes away from the cloying display of affection.
you don’t notice your friends leaving while you’re too engrossed doting on satoru.
“baby– heh– we should head home now,” he groans softly, shivering upon your fingers tracing his undercut. if you continue this any longer, satoru's brain will be fried to the point that no reversed curse energy could fix. the effect you had on him was undeniably unjust.
“can you run me a bath when we’re home?” you pleaded, your voice tinged with weariness. after a night of drinking in roppongi, you felt the weight of the celebrations clinging to your skin.
satoru's lips curled into a playful smirk as he recognized the opportunity presented before him. "only if you'll let me hop in~"
a mischievous agreement danced in your eyes as you responded, "hm okay." you leaned in to place a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. satoru, his affection intensifying by the moment, gently gripped the back of your head and guided your lips back to his. gosh, he was so in love.
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i was going to post all mine but im currently rewriting it so bear with me please !!!!
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ what I know to be true ⋆。˚ ೀ⋆。˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
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Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
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Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
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Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
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While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
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