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#but i just passed 2k followers
davidtennantpussytulpa · 10 months
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i have absolutely no concept of what a big blog constitutes on here in terms of actual follower count because like on instagram people are like oh 130k is like a relatively small amount whatever and on here i think if you have 10k youre one of the biggest bloggers of all time
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pastafossa · 2 years
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Just wanna check! How often do you answer your asks? I don’t wanna bother ya if your inbox is flooded by resending an ask that you’ve already received, but if you usually answer em all I would like to resend if it got ate 👉👈
You are absolutely free to send an ask again if I missed it! Tbh between the unpacking/reno process and the daily ongoing stream of asks in my box, I have a lot of trouble keeping up. 😅 I try to answer whenever I have some spare time though! So if I miss your ask, it's nothing you've done! It's basically just me behind the scenes like
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cosmictheo · 1 year
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𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦
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(gif credits to @peace--n--love)
— summary: ao'nung calls you the way neteyam usually calls you, which makes him feel jealous and insecure, but that finally pushes him to confess something he has been feeling for too long. — pairing: neteyam x female!na'vi!reader — word count: 2k —warnings: pure and comforting fluff, ao'nung being ao'nung (an idiot), love confessions, jealous!neteyam, neteyam being the purest and most beautiful angel.
* Neteyam is aged up, for obvious reasons, of course; he is 19 years old. * Sluyang means flower.
neteyam's playlist i made for inspo
writer's note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
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You liked to observe the beauty that Eywa gave to Pandora, you were still surprised by how beautiful the forest and the places it could hide, even after having grown up there and having been all those years among its leafy trees, even so, the forest hid secret and beautiful places, worthy of being seen and found by only those chosen ones.
Your mother was sure that you had a special connection with Eywa, practically since the day you were born and opened your eyes for the first time, green as a pair of emeralds. She told you that you had come into the world for a purpose, that you were Eywa's chosen one, in fact, those were her last words to you before she passed away in your arms, haunted all her life by an illness from which she never got better. And since then, Jake and Neytiri had taken care of you, accepting you into their family as if you had always been one of them. You soon became close to their children, especially with Neteyam, as you were close in age.
And because of that special fascination you had for the forest and nature in general, Neteyam made a habit of always bringing you things from his many explorations and hunts, things that reminded him of you; flowers, leaves and even rocks, bright and beautiful, out of the ordinary, that stood out among everything else, just like you.
“You don't have to, 'Teyam.” You always said every time he came to you once again with a new gift. But he would simply shake his head, offering you a charming and gentle little smile, ever so kind, ears slightly bent and gaze so bright every time he met yours that it seemed to dazzle you, leaving you completely mesmerized.
With a coy smile you tried to avert your gaze from his, analyzing the object now in your hands. “Really, it's not necessary.”
“I like to do it.” He would simply reply, seeking your gaze with his big, captivating, coaxing eyes, as if it were something insignificant, something that didn't matter, something that wasn't like the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. And you would do nothing but grin at him. You couldn't stop smiling, your cheeks felt almost numb, but you were happy, content, he made you happy. And you knew that this, in the long run, would bring serious consequences, not so good, you supposed.
And now, in the huge ocean, when you thought nothing would surprise you anymore, Eywa seemed to turn every assumption you had upside down. Jake had taken you with him and his family to the place where the Metkayina Clan lived, leaving the Omaticaya behind, leaving the shelter that the forest offered you, to now be surrounded by the ocean; salt water and sandy land.
They had been kind enough to accept you into their home and to show you their ways, noting the great difference from your own, but, apparently the younger members of the clan were not as friendly to strangers as the older ones.
Ao'nung had been rather harsh with you, especially Kiri, whom they had addressed as a freak, as they had nicknamed her, and from there, the problem grew larger, for you and Lo'ak had taken up against them in her defense.
“Look at her.” Ao'nung called out, following Kiri like prey, looking at her with big, disgusted eyes. “Is she a freak or something?”
“Don't call her that.” You stated in a not at all friendly tone, scowl and defiant eyes looking up at the chief's son, pointing at him with your index finger and thus causing him to move backwards. “You have no right to call her that, did you hear me? The Chief's son or not, I'll kick your ass.”
With a tilt of your head, you stated the threat, making him snort ungraciously, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“For such a pretty little girl, you sure have a big mouth.” His big eyes narrowed as he spoke, demonstrating a smug attitude as he heard a couple of snickers from his little friends at his words. “You are one of us, little flower. Why you waste your time hanging out with these aliens?”
“Hey!” Lo'ak exclaimed, appearing at your side, fists clenched and face angry. “Don't call her that, get away from her!”
“Please, leave us alone.” Kiri grumbled behind your back, hearing how now, you were the target of annoyance from the little group.
Your mouth hung open wide, totally offended now, feeling the fury shake your body from head to toe, your tail wagging angrily as you lunged at him at the same time you heard an 'oh uh' from Lo'ak.
But your movement was halted as you watched as a body larger than yours stepped between you and the bully, leaving you in view of nothing but a broad back you knew all too well and blocking Ao'nung's smug, sneering face from your view.
“That's enough.” Neteyam said in a stern tone, deep voice and tense body, always as diplomatic and calm as ever, braids moving under the command of the wind and his head, which rose slightly, giving him a more stern and much more menacing stance. “As long as we are here you will treat my family with respect and call no one by other than their names.”
His head moved so that he could look at the faces of the little group that had formed, friends of Ao'nung, as silly as he was, apparently, but who, in Neteyam's presence, seemed to have been brought back to reality and put back in their places. They were not so foolish after all, they knew that against him they would have no choice but to flee. Cowards.
“(Y/N) is just fine for you, got it?”
“Whatever.” Ao'nung replied, rolling his eyes and starting to walk, bumping his shoulder against Neteyam's as he walked past him, his eyes met yours for a couple of seconds and he offered you a smirk, making you grunt and by the time you could take a step towards him, a hand found itself on your forearm, stopping any act of violence you had planned to do.
“Cowards.” Kiri spat, rolling her eyes.
When you looked back, Neteyam was looking at you with eyes, dark, but now filled with concern, his fingers barely caressing your skin before he pulled away from your arm.
“Are you okay, syulang?”
You rolled your eyes, sighing heavily. “I'd be better if I'd beaten that skxawng—”
“Hey.” He interrupted you, noticing how your ears were still bent and your tail twitching behind your back and he laid both of his hands on your shoulders now, in an attempt to reassure you, giving you delicate petting strokes. “It's okay, it's all over now.” His gaze traveled to his siblings behind you, moving his head and face transforming to one of authority, chin up. His voice came through loud and clear, almost scolding. “Home, now. You've had a lot for today.”
Lo'ak lifted his hands, looking incredulous. “But they were bugging-”
Neteyam was quick to interrupt him. “Home. We will talk to father later.”
The younger boy let out a snarl and without further ado, began walking back to where his family was staying, followed closely by Kiri, who kept a glum face, arms crossed over her chest.
And now, all of Neteyam's attention landed on you, as it naturally did, as his body always seemed to do instinctively, even though he didn't even intend to, he always focused on you, as if you were the center of the universe, the sun of his world, the core of his heart, the magnet of his mind and the horizon of his eyes. He saw you. He had always seen you. And practically everyone in his family knew, perhaps everyone on the whole planet, except for you, of course.
Neteyam had expressly refused any offer or even, even idea from his parents to find him a Tsahik as his position as the future leader of the clan, it was his duty and it behoved him to follow to the letter the duty that rested on his shoulders as the future chief, but now, all that had been left behind with his leaving. Now all he cared about having was you. All that mattered was you.
With a beautiful sunset behind him, he began to speak to you once again, hands gently running over your shoulders and arms, becoming more attentive, affectionate, but still concerned. His brow furrowed slightly and you knew immediately that a scolding was coming now. “What were you thinking, hm? Fighting them all?”
He was always like that with you, especially when you were alone together. Neteyam never felt he was enough for his father, and he too never seemed to be satisfied of him, let alone see all that his son did for his family, for his siblings and for him, but with you, with you everything was different, he could be different, he could be himself and he knew that was enough for you, you made him feel enough, you made him feel special.
“If that's what I had to do for protecting Kiri, Lo'ak and their family's honor, of course.” You answered immediately and with your words, sounding so sure and affirmative, Neteyam felt his heart be flooded with a most familiar warmth, an emotion quite well-known to him whenever you were near him and said things such as those, always putting others before yourself, putting the welfare of his family before yourself.
A smile tugged at Neteyam's lips, admiring you with bright, big eyes, his hands trailing down your shoulders, sliding down your arms to your hands, taking them between his own tenderly, fingers toying with yours absentmindedly as he watched the clear size difference.
“He called you little flower.” Neteyam stated after a silence of a couple of seconds, twisting his head. His jaw was clenched and ears barely tilted back. “I call you that.”
You bit your lower lip, holding back the smile that threatened to curve your lips at his clear display of jealousy. He was upset about it and you had to reassure him. Your fingers caressed his wrist, tracing imaginary lines down his forearm. “I like it better when you do it.”
“I sure hope so.” He smiled again and tugged on your hand, inviting you to walk with him, both of your hands tangled between his arm, and he didn't waste a second in drawing you to him. “I want to show you something.”
. . .
Neteyam had found the spot walking along the local beach, it was a bit far from the place where his family was staying and it was far from the town in general, but that made it a perfect location. It was a small bay, surrounded by coastal vegetation, a couple of palm trees and soft silky sand, but what was really amazing, was the glows of bioluminescence under the clear ocean water, algae of all colors, small animals swimming, with the sunset light bathing exquisitely over the turquoise sea.
It was beautiful, of course. But your reaction at the sight of it was even better; mouth half-open, eyes huge and amazed, face in wonder.
“'Yam… it's beautiful.” You murmured in a soft, barely audible tone of voice, but he was right next to you, as close to you as possible, so he could hear you perfectly. His fingers were intertwined with yours and he pulled you with him across the sand to the perfect place to sit.
“Yes it is. I found it as I was passing by... I immediately thought of you.” His gaze lowered with a hint of embarrassment flashing across his pretty face. “I know how much you love nature, all the things our great mother has given us, so, I thought, you would like it.” He stated and then shrugged, attitude becoming quite braggy now. “I've seen more beautiful things, though.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing your shoulder against his in amusement as you wrapped your arms around your knees, admiring the scenery in front of you. “Don't lie now.”
“I'm serious.” He laughed, looking up at you, analyzing every expression on your pretty face. “I'm no liar, you know that.”
You raised an eyebrow, turning your head so you could look at him now. “Really, huh? So what have you seen? What possibly have you seen prettier than this?”
Neteyam smiled thinly, stirring his arm lightly, his hand passed down your back, resting on the sand, fingers fiddling with it. “Something prettier than this?”
“Hm.” You hummed, looking at him curiously.
His ears perked up, gaze dropping to his lap, steeling himself inside, trying his hardest to calm the nerves that were practically eating him alive. And then, he moved his eyes up your body, until he met yours. “I'm looking at it right now.”
Your breath hitched and your mouth parted, feeling your body freeze. Your arms fell to either side of your body, adjusting your position.
“Nete…” You whispered in a shaky voice.
“Yes, sluyang?” He tilted his head softly. “I'm being honest.” He swallowed saliva, his hand trailing up your arm, caressing your shoulder and tracing your jaw, down to rest on your cheek, fingers tracing every inch of skin he could, arranging your hair and tucking it behind your ear. “I've always seen you as the most beautiful thing…” His lips trembled, faltering for a few moments. “I see you, (Y/N).”
You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I see you too, Neteyam.”
He closed his eyes too, caressing your face with his. “When that idiot called you flower and treated you that way… like you were nothing.” His hands cradled your face now, and you rose up to face him, completely silent, breathing agitatedly. He was breathing in an agitated way too, looking frustrated, disturbed. “I was furious. They should respect you. Every one of them should know that you are mine and they should treat you as such, as my equal, as my mate.”
You opened your eyes to find his eyes already on you, your fingers stroking his arms subconsciously. Your lips brushed his as you opened your mouth to speak in an agitated voice. “I want to be yours, Neteyam.”
“I can't pretend anymore.” He declared between shaky breaths, gaze traveling between your eyes and mouth as he shook his head. “I don't care what anyone else says, I don't want anyone else. I have already chosen. I just want you, (Y/N)... I was made for you.”
“Then just take me.” You murmured against his lips before joining them with yours in a needy, agitated kiss that felt as if everything at last, made sense, as if life had been created just for this moment, as if you had been brought to life just this moment, for each other.
It felt as if all the constellations had aligned for you, as if you had all the stars just for you, and that was given just once, you knew. Everything made you feel as if Ewya had created you for each other. You were made for each other and perhaps the Great Mother had aligned the whole universe for it, for you.
“I am yours.” He promised. “I always have been.”
Your legs tangled between his as you landed on his lap, being drawn in by his arms chaining themselves around your body, massaging your waist, tattooing his touch on your skin.
“Forever.”
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
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summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.
word count: 2k
now spinning: freak by lana del rey
author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!
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He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.
At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.
You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you. 
You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.
Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.
He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing. 
Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.
That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.
It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that. 
Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.
He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.
𝜗𝜚
The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.
The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.
“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?” 
“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.” 
“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”
“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.” 
“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.
“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”
You smile, giddily. 
“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.
“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”
𝜗𝜚
The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands. 
You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair. 
On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.
Crap. 
When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.
She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.
“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”
“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.
“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door. 
“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.
“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.
𝜗𝜚
It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him. 
Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.
“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it. 
“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”
“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”
“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”
“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.” 
“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”
“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands. 
“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”
“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.
“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.
“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”
“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.
“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”
You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.
“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?” 
You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.
“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.
JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.
“No, no, gross, gross!”
John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.
You let out another breath.
“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now. 
“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!
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m0chaminx · 5 months
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Coriolanus Snow | Roses Grow Thorns
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*•.¸♡Request: Pls pls pls do a part 2 too the snow x reader fix it was so amazing and I want more of them 🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️🩷
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, jealousy, hurt comfort, fluff ending
*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolanus Snow x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: Coriolanus learns his favourite flower grows thorns
Or
You confront Coriolanus about his relationship with Lucy Gray
*•.¸♡Words: 2k
Part 1
People danced, swaying with their partners in a circle as you stood on stage, strumming your guitar and singing to the crowd. Lucy had just finished the first half of her set, so you took the stage to fill the silence. Coriolanus sat with Sejanus at a table across the room, large glasses of some sort of liquor. Coriolanus looked up at you and smiled.
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours
Your voice trailed off slightly as Lucy raced to Coriolanus and Sejanus, throwing her arm around his shoulder and leaning between them. You shook your head and continued to play, trying to ignore Lucy Gray practically hanging from Coriolanus’s arm.
Jealousy, an unwelcome guest, clawed at the edges of your heart, leaving an ache in your chest. No words had been exchanged, and no actions had passed between you two. It overtook the corners of your mind, urging you to believe that Lucy Gray should sense the unspoken connection threading its way between you and Coriolanus.
Each shared trip to the lake, every stolen moment when Coriolanus chose to spend his fleeting free hours with you — these fragments of time saved in your mind like photos in an old book. Yet, as you observed Lucy Gray standing there, a vision of radiant smiles and hushed confidences exchanged with Coriolanus, a wave of emotion surged. It was as if the world momentarily lost its colour, and the whispers of uncertainty left an indelible mark on your heart.
You clenched your hand, trying to ease the shaking in your hands.
Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
Every night for the past week following that evening, Coriolanus Snow would tap gently on the glass of your window. You would turn your head and he would smile, the same bright smile that made your stomach flip and fill with butterflies. You crept across the wood floors and opened the window, looking down at the blue-eyed boy. “Are you busy?”
You would simply laugh at him. You grabbed your coat and slipped out the window, Coriolanus gripping your waist to help you down properly. He would smile, slip a scarf under the window to close it without locking it and you would slip away unnoticed, descending into the velvety embrace of the night.
In those quiet moments, Coriolanus would slip your hand in his own, his warm hand covering yours as he laced your fingers together. He guided you through the dense labyrinth of woods, you knew these woods better than he did but through the nights as he led you to the lake, you questioned if you ever knew them at all. 
The Mokingjays sang into the night as if calling to the small fireflies to light the way. “I brought matches,” Cori said, looking back at you. He tugged on your hand bringing you closer and you couldn't help but think about Lucy Gray running her hand along his shoulders. “We can light a fire. Maybe catch some fish.” You nodded and Coriolanus smiled.
You reached the lake and Coriolanus set his bag down, quickly gathering everything to start a fire. You walked to the edge of the water, your mind running faster than you could even start to comprehend. “Think we’ll catch anything?” He asked, stopping to look up at you.
You looked back over the water, looking at the fish no bigger than your palm swimming just above the sea floor. You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the moonlight dancing on the waves of the water. “Nothing big enough to eat,” You said. Coriolanus nodded and turned back to the fire.
Once the fire was made you sat on the ground beside him, leaving enough space so your shoulders didn’t touch. You both sat in silence, Coriolanus’s knee bouncing softly. 
The flames danced and flickered, the golden glow flickering in Coriolanus’s blue eyes, you settled onto the ground beside him. You shifted slightly, making sure your shoulders didn't touch. The silence stretched between you, Coriolanus's fingers drumming against a stick he held in nervousness.
Coriolanus's knee bounced softly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of both your hearts. The mere inches that separated you felt like an unbridgeable chasm, as long and confusing as his thoughts. “Did I do something?” His voice cut through the silence like a knife and you turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You seem distracted. You’re not talking like you usually do. You’re sitting far away.” You bit your lip and shrugged softly. “What’s wrong?”
“What did I sing tonight?” You turned to face Coriolanus. “Tonight. I sang, I wore the red dress so everyone could see the white rose you gave me. But what did I sing?” Coriolanus stammered. “You don’t spare a second glance at me during our shows, you talk to Sejanus when I do perform and you let Lucy Gray hang off your arm like she was yours.”
He spoke your name softly, trying to shuffle closer but you stood quickly. “Don’t do that Cori,” You pleaded. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you later.” You turned on your heel. Making your way back through the woods.
Coriolanus sighed, dropping his head into his hands as you walked from his view.
The next morning you stared at the ceiling, stretched out on your small bed. You twisted a small rose between your fingers, the thrones pricking your skin occasionally. The knock at the window made you jump. You turned your head to look at Coriolanus standing on the other side, smiling ever so slightly. You sighed and set the rose aside before walking to the window and pulling it open. “Corio-”
“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything, just follow me.” 
“Cori-”
“What did I just say?”
A frustrated huff escaped you as you forcefully closed the window, shutting out the annoying sounds of crickets. Pulling the blinds closed with a swift motion covering Coriolanus’s face, but you caught his smile dropping. You donned your jacket and stepped out the front door, stopping in front of Coriolanus just as you turned the corner. He extended his hand, a warm smile playing on his lips. Suppressing the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface, you offered a muted response, "Just lead the way," your words carrying a hint of resignation.
Coriolanus nodded and started to lead you through the woods, the sun still yet to rise properly. “You sang I Wanna Be Yours,” Coriolanus muttered. “No, I didn't ask Lucy Gray. You wrote it after you met your old girlfriend but you haven't sung it since. That’s why it was so important to you. And why you wanted me to remember it.”
You hummed and tried to hide your smile. “So you were paying attention.”
Coriolanus spoke, low and earnest, his gaze fixed on you. "I always pay attention," he assured, a sincerity etched into his words. The weight of his gaze, coupled with the firmness in his tone, sought to reassure you. "And nothing is happening between Lucy Gray and me. She was helping me with something," he explained, his words carrying the weight of truth and an unspoken plea for understanding.
“Which is?”
Coryo smiled, “Keep following me.”
You followed Coriolanus, walking in silence until the sun rose completely. He stopped at a rock wall, a small dirt trail winding around it. He reached out, slipping his hand into yours and leading you down the track. “Roses don’t grow in 12, the ground is too hard,” Coriolanus started. “Lucy Gray told me just beyond the rock wall there is ground soft enough to grow flowers. Sejanus used his father's money to get some seed and…” Coriolanus stepped aside as you reached the bottom of the track.
You smiled, Coriolanus’s hand slipping from yours as you stepped further into the growing rose field. Dozens of rose bushes had started to grow, small red and white flowers sporting. Small raindrops covered the flowers, the sun reflecting off of them like diamonds. You crouched, smiling as you ran your hand along the rose petals. 
A soft smile played on your lips, and Coriolanus's hand tenderly released yours as you ventured deeper into the growing rose field. Rows of rose bushes, adorned with tiny red and white blossoms, unfold before you, blossoming like a garden from the Capitol. Small raindrops adorned the delicate petals, capturing the sunlight in a dance that shined like diamonds. Your heart swelled. You glanced back at Coriolanus who shared the same smile.
You carefully crouched down, your smile growing as you traced the velvet texture of the rose petals with your fingertips, each delicate touch slow and careful as if the rose would fall apart. Coriolanus smiled as he watched you, his stomach filling with butterflies as he waited for you to speak. 
"Wait..." The urgency in your voice sliced through the air as you stood, swiftly pivoting to face Coriolanus. His smile disappeared, replaced by a stark seriousness mirrored in your eyes. Your heart fell to your stomach as your voice shook, "You said Sejanus got the seeds from his father. If the Peacemakers find out, they'll take you away." The gravity of your words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere. “Cori, they’ll take you to the hanging tree-”
“They won’t,” Coriolanus said quickly. He stepped forward holding your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the lines of your cheekbones. “No one is going to take me away. No one is taking you. Or Sejanus, or Lucy Gray.” You raised your hand, settling it on top of his. “This place is ours, yours and mine. No one is going to take that.”
Yours and mine.
You smiled, laughing softly as you looked up at Coriolanus, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You got me roses?” You asked.
“You said you liked the Capitol flowers more,” Coriolanus remembered. “I can’t exactly take you to the Capitol, so I thought I’d bring the best part of the Capitol here.”
“Besides yourself.”
A warm smile graced his features as he leaned in, closing the distance until his forehead gently met yours. "Do people in the Capitol kiss differently than the districts?" His inquiry, spoken in a hushed tone, carried a hint of curiosity and a touch of playfulness.
“I think…” you leaned up slightly, bumping your nose against his, “you should find out.”
The brush of his fingertips against your jawline, tracing a delicate path along your skin, igniting a shiver that danced down your spine. As he cradled your face, your breath hitched in anticipation, your eyes staring at his chapped pink lips. Drawing you closer, the final shared breath seemed to linger, suspended in the charged atmosphere, before he sealed the connection with a kiss that felt like a spark that lit a fire. Your heart echoed the rhythm of the thousands of times you had dreamed of this moment and your hands instinctively wound around the back of his neck, the embrace pulling him closer.
Your stomach twirled, filling with butterflies as one of Coryo’s hands moved to wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. He pulled away, his breath coming out in small pants, your breath in sync with his. You opened your eyes, looking up at his half-closed eyes tracing over every part of your face. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”
He whispered it back.
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januaryembrs · 15 days
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I CAN SEE YOU | Spencer Reid x FBI!Reader
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Request: Congrats on 2k!!! Could you write something based off of ‘I can see you’ by Taylor Swift with Spencer please?
Description: Spencer may or may not have a little thing for the desk jockey on the floor below, and she may or may not have a thing for their silent elevator rides together.
Length: 1.2k
Warnings: fluff?? Season one Spencer in mind when I wrote this (my sweetest boy)
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He passed through the lobby at the exact same time every day. Usually with his head dug in an obnoxiously thick book, or fiddling with the strap on his satchel bag, or flicking his long curls out of his sweet, hazelnut eyes. Sometimes with thick round glasses perched on his slender nose, sometimes nothing but a thoughtful, musing frown. 
Not that she was obsessed with him. 
But it wasn’t hard to acknowledge that whoever the guy on the sixth floor was that seemed to stick to an incredibly tight schedule had the face of a god. 
Though she supposed he could say the same about her schedule seeing as they seemed to enter the elevator at nearly the exact same time every single day, never saying a word, a brief nod of hello was about the extent of their interaction. One time he had pressed the button for her floor, number five, for her, and she hadn’t stopped smiling the rest of the day. 
Of course there were times he and his team would be away on a case, in which she wouldn’t see him for days on end, while she went to her lonely desk in forensics no matter what case had come up.
In the grand scheme of things, she was a desk jockey, inputting numbers and data and figures, organising files and sheets and loading ink into the printer. She was a nobody and he was part of the BAU. 
No one would even notice if she didn’t show up for the day. At least that was what she hoped as she sped walked out of the cab, her hair soaking down her back, her lungs puffing in a crackling wheeze, frantically tucking her tight shirt into her dogtooth pants, limping on her ankle that she’d rolled racing out her apartment building into the raging storm that had overcome Virginia in a matter of hours. 
She felt socks wet through as she squelched her way into the elevator, barely noticing the usual passenger that was tracing a bony finger down the page of Pride and Prejudice, quickly flicking over the page in a matter of five seconds. 
He looked up when she hopped in beside him, squeezing in as a handful of other people followed her. Trying desperately to even her hair out in the large mirror behind them, it was only then she realised her mascara had smudged down her cheeks entirely, making her look like she’d slept in a pile of charcoal. 
“Fuck,” She said loudly, her hand slapping over her mouth when she realise the deadly silent elevator full of federal agents turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat as if her makeup condundrum hadn’t been embarrassing enough, “S-sorry,” She muttered, turning her head to the ground as she frantically wiped beneath her lids with her cardigan sleeve. 
Turning to see if he had noticed, she caught him staring right at her, and she could have sworn the heat on her face blazed even harder when she saw he was smiling into his book in amusement. 
Fuck. She repeated in her head this time, taking a small sigh of relief when the doors opened on the first floor and half the passengers trickled out onto the finance floor. 
She was still fixing her hair by the time they got to the second floor, communications, and even more people got out. By the end of the third floor, it was just the two of them left. 
“Bad morning?” He broke the silence, and it was the first time she’d ever actually heard his voice. He was even dreamier than she’d thought, in a boyish kind of way.
“Car battery died, and the bus was full,” She murmured, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves that were entirely sodden, “And then apparently someone up there hates to see pretty girls get to work looking dry and respectable,” 
He chuckled properly, and she swore it soothed the ache of the cold rain just the smallest bit. 
“Don’t we all,” He mused, though his eyes went back to his book, flicking over the words faster than she figured would be possible. 
She figured he didn’t want to be bothered by the drowned rat looking woman that had all but thrown herself into the lift beside him, interrupting his reading with her curses and pitiful glances. 
It was only when they reached the fourth floor that he quickly rooted around his bag for something, likely a bookmark since he didn’t seem the type to dog-ear a perfectly neat page. It wasn’t until a soft, moss green sweater was thrust in her face she snapped out of her self loathing daze.
Looking at him wide eyed, he nudged it towards her hands, and it was like Spencer only just realised that offering a stranger your clothes was perhaps not normal, but he didn’t feel like they were strangers.
She was the first person he’d ever met in the building besides Gideon. He remembered the two of them stepping into the elevator, the bashful woman already flicking through files, her lanyard hanging low over her chest as she chirped good morning to Gideon and he did the same, wishing her a good day when she stepped out onto floor five. 
He couldn’t help if he was so perceptive he’d clocked her name and position written on her ID, couldn’t help it if he was a huge fan of routine and repetition, that he purposely walked into the lobby at the same time every day knowing she was going to be right behind him just for an excuse to see her. 
No, they certainly weren’t strangers, Spencer tried to reason, yet he wasn’t even sure she knew his name.
“T-take it,” He stuttered, watching the doors close and the lift jolt as it ascended to her floor, “You can just bring it back tomorrow,” 
“That’s- I couldn’t,” She reasoned, her eyes fretful, “It’s yours,”
“I’m not using it, you must be freezing,” Spencer reiterated it with another nudge towards her, and he saw the longing glance she gave at the promise of warmth. 
Number five dinged above them, and the doors slid open. 
“Just take it, please,” He said, and it seemed like that was the magic word as she cautiously took it out of his hand, and melted when she realised it was softer than she’d thought, like it was made to feel like a giant hug. 
“Thankyou…” She said, heading for the doors with slow steps; she didn’t want to leave whatever moment he’d caught her in. 
“Spencer,” He replied, smiling at her with a shy cadence. 
“Thankyou, Spencer,” She said, and gave him her own name back. But he already knew it, and he realised he would sound like a complete creepy stalker if he’d said so. So he just nodded, a small wave off as she headed for her office and the doors closed behind her. 
He loved how she said his name, he thought blissfully, but he loved even more showing up to work day after to see her waiting by the elevator, his sweater washed and ironed, pressed neatly in her hands and still warm from where she’d tumble dried it. 
She handed it back to him with a sheepish smile, and he took it gracefully, catching a whiff of her fabric softener and felt fuzzy inside right there and then. 
“Good morning, Spencer,” She said sweetly, and he swore he wanted to kiss her the minute it left her lips, glossed with something rouge and shiny. 
But he didn’t, he just said it back, loving how her name rolled over his tongue. 
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keeksandgigz · 6 months
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my guy
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eddie munson x fem!reader
Eddie being your personal handyman and stupidly in love.
cw: 2k words. no warnings just two kids being absolutely smitten for each other. tooth rotting fluff. teeny allusion to smut. Eddie being a flustered mess bless him. 18+ mdni
AN: this is literally the most low stakes thing i've ever written i just started cheesing at the idea of eddie cheesing at being called your guy
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The sputtering of the washing machine startles you.
Huffing, you put your book down on the couch, rising from the depth of the cushions in which you had settled yourself into after finishing your chores and go assess the issue.
"Shit," the floor is wet and you shudder at the feeling of the cold soapy water getting into the bottoms of your socks as you slowly make your way to the washing machine to unplug it.
You try your best to dry the floor, wincing at the feeling of wet socks on the linoleum floor, cursing under your breath at the cold feel of the fabric against your skin.
Despite the floor being dry, your washing machine was broken, and you couldn't afford to buy a new one. Fortunately, your neighbor, Eddie had been your own personal handyman ever since you mentioned in passing that your sink was leaking a bit after moving into your place a couple months ago. The day after he was at your door, toolbox in hand. Your sink was fixed in less than a couple hours.
You knock at his front door, three precise, well timed knocks. Your mind cannot help but start counting just to see how long it will take him to open his door.
One, two, three, four, five, si--
The rattling of the door handle distracts you from your counting. Eddie's eyes are wide as they stare at you. His hair is tied in a low bun and he's fidgeting with a guitar pick in his hand. He must have been playing.
He's really quiet for a second, then clears his throat. "Oh, um. Hey, what's up?"
"Hey, nothing much? just wondering if you're busy right now" your tone always softens up with him around.
He looks around his apartment, almost as if he needed to remember if there was anything he should've been doing.
"Nope, don't think so. Why?" He leans against his doorframe, and he's cute in the way his pitch perks up, his smile expands just a bit to let a few crinkles form around his eyes.
"Well um... my washing machine broke and I can't afford to buy another one. I have a really important interview tomorrow morning and I need a clean dress shirt to wear. I thought I could get my guy to take a look at it and assess the damage?" you lightly punch your fist across his chest and he blushes a bit. You can tell by the way he starts blinking a bit faster that he's flustered.
"Your- your guy?" he stutters, almost as if he heard nothing else aside from that.
"Yeah, silly. My guy, like, my handyman" you smile at him, and if someone could get even more nervous, you're sure that Eddie just did, because he lets out a breathy laugh.
"Right. Your handyman guy, of course" and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a bit.
"So... can you do it?" you ask, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, no of course, sweetheart. Gimme a couple minutes and I'll be right over to you" he says smiling.
You head back to your apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow you with his toolbox, and Eddie feels like he’s lost every sense of reason when he enters and becomes surrounded by your scent.
The fabric softener you use has taken over every corner of your house, but he’s not complaining. Taking one last sniff for courage, he steps into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at, waiting for him.
“Alright, can I take a look at your washing machine?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Yeah, it’s right this way” you lead him to the laundry room, and Eddie’s suffocating. You’re everywhere.
He kneels in front of the machine and opens its door.
"What's this interview for anyway if it's got you actin' so nervous?" He says from inside the washing machine. He's fidgeting with the rubber at the opening, the hose.
"It's for this job at the school. I applied to teach at the middle school, but I'm not sure if they'll give it to me" you say, panic settling in. He's taking too long, you're done for. No clean shirt, no job.
"Nah, sweetheart, there's no reason why they shouldn't. You're incredibly smart, from all the books I've seen you read, your apartment is all books, you nerd" he starts laughing, and then stops.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a nerd." He takes his head out of the washing machine. "I just- I know you're gonna do great. And if you don't maybe you can become my apprentice, would you mind passing me my flashlight?" he gives you a half smile.
Reaching for his toolbox you pass it to him.
"See? You're already perfect for the job, you're hired" he says, making you laugh. He smiles proudly to himself, and he's happy that you can't see him from inside the washing machine, because he's sure he's bursting with joy at the sound of your laughter.
"Thanks, Ed. I'll consider it." you say, and immediately after you hear a oh shit! coming from inside the machine. Concern washes over your face.
"Ed? What's wrong?" you say, as you carefully step closer towards him.
“I know what the problem is." He takes his head out again The rubber thingy that helps you close the thingy is broken” he says, like you understood what he meant.
“For a handyman you sure have your way with words” you laugh, and he doesn’t even care that he’s made a fool of himself by forgetting what the rubber gasket was called. Because he’s made you laugh.
"So how do I get this rubber thingy fixed, mr handyman?" you ask, voice still amused at how flustered he is.
"Well, I'd need to go down the hardware store and get a replacement, but it's 8PM, so I can't do anything about it now, sweetheart. Sorry" he says, and it breaks his heart to have to say no to you.
"Oh, okay." your voice sounds sad, it hurts him. "Thanks anyway, Eddie. I'll stop by the hardware store tomorrow morning before my interview if you wanna stop by in the afternoon and finish this?"
He thinks about it, about the interview. About how much you said you want the job.
"Wait, I have an idea. What if you wash your clothes in my washing machine for tonight? So you can have your shirt ready for your interview, then tomorrow I can go and get the gaskets to fix it. It's called a gasket, not rubber thingy" he says, playing with his hair.
"Ed it's fine, I can go get it" you say, trying not to blush at how gentle and kind he is "I'll take you up on your offer of using your machine, though. Thanks, Ed. You're too nice" you say, reaching for the basket of wet clothes on top of the dishwasher.
"Anytime, sweetheart. Y'know I take good care of my clientele" he says, smug smile on his lips. You giggle and fake a gasp.
"Are you cheating on me? Are you being someone else's guy?!" he laughs and goes along with it.
"Well, Mrs. Davis did ask me to fix her bathtub, after learning from someone that I fixed their sink" he said, a fake accusatory stare at you.
"You should get paid for this, Ed. You've already fixed my sink, my door hinges, helped me change my lock and now my washing machine. Soon the whole complex is gonna ask you to do their maintenance" you laugh.
"I do it out of the kindness of my heart" he says, taking a dramatic bow , then rises and leans against the washing machine. "Really, though, I don't mind doing it. I enjoy being helpful. I don't want your money, sweetheart"
"No, Eddie, I insist. I need to pay you, especially after you said you're getting the rubber thingy for me, what was it called again? A gusset?"
"Gasket" he says smiling, pointing a cheeky finger at you. Then the air becomes a bit tense, he stiffens up. You see him takes a deep breath, he's suddenly nervous which puts you on edge. Did you say something wrong? Then he speaks up again. "Tell you what, as a payment for my services, I pick you up Friday night at 7 and we have dinner. What do you say?"
Shit. You would not have pegged him for the type to be that smooth, but he had you. He liked you and he was sweet to you and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It helped that he was cute. There was no hesitation when you nodded your head yes.
"I say that's a great idea, Ed. I'll let you know how the interview goes. Should we go to your apartment?" you say. You notice the quizzical, borderline alarmed, look on his face.
"So I can wash my stuff, I mean" an awkward laugh escapes you as he motions for you to lead the way.
His apartment is the same layout as yours, but rather than books, his walls are filled with painted figurines, guitars, notebooks and DnD game sets. A true nerdy den.
"Um, the washing machine is down the hall. We have the same one, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he says, heading over to the couch, setting his toolbox down and picking up his guitar.
His laundry detergent is strong. The thought of this load of washing smelling like him makes your head spin.
After you've started the load, you head out of the laundry room and head over to the couch, where Eddie is. You swear his eyes glint a little when he sees you.
"Hey mr. handyman." you say, plopping down next to him "Keep playing, I'm just gonna watch you." You smile at him.
His face is concentrated, tongue darting out of his lips every once in a while. Cute, you think, a silly quirk that makes your mind travel to places that it should not even dare to go, you haven't even had your first date yet. God, you wanna kiss him.
He plays some aggressive guitar chords, one after the other, music sheets scattered on his knee, balancing precariously as he taps the rhythm with his head, his hair falling out of its confinements with each bob of his head.
"I hear you play sometimes." You interrupt. He raises his head, his hair has all fallen out of the bun and lays on his shoulders.
"What?" he says weakly.
"Sometimes, in the afternoon, because you're so respectful, I hear you play. And I- I just stop whatever I'm doing and listen to you and- and it's so cool. Your playing is so cool" you stop your ramble, because now he's staring at you and he's making you nervous. He's closer, and closer, and closer. And he's kissing you.
His lips are soft, albeit a bit too wet from all the times he's licked his lips to focus. His hand is on your cheek and it's big and warm and his breath is on you and you just melt into him. Soft kisses, quick kisses.
After what feels like hours, your mouth is open and you're reaching for his shirt, but he stops you, a puzzled look on your face. "Let's save this for another time, sweetheart." He says, and you can tell he's struggling to say no to you "I wanna take my time with you. Maybe after our date?" he gives you a sly smile and you think you have melted into the cushions.
"Can we cuddle, then?" you say shyly and he opens his arms for you to fall in, you take a deep breath. He's warm and smells nice.
"For a handyman you kiss really well" you say, laughing a bit. He jerks his head and quirks an eyebrow.
"How many handymen have you kissed?" his tone is dramatic and you know he's joking.
"None that I am aware of, but y'know, it could be a side job" You giggle.
"I thought I was your guy!" He says with a whine, and he makes you laugh like no man has ever made you laugh before.
“Maybe you can be my guy for real then” you say, smiling, finally holding eye contact with him.
“Yeah, I can be your guy, sweetheart.”
2K notes · View notes
cofigelly · 6 months
Text
ೀ SIX EYES
——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader
synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture
word count; ~2k words
contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references
notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently
——————————————————————————
the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.
well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.
in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.
you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.
that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.
in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?
but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.
paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.
just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”
you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”
your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”
you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you. 
brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.
this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row. 
the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."
his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.
“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone. 
you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”
he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”
“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”
briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door. 
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.
he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.
everything about you captivated gojo satoru.
from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.
he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.
and another. and another.
he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.
there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.
but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.
you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).
he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
there is no fucking way.
gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.
hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?
you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.
this guy has no shame.
gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.
"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.
"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."
wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"
you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”
after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"
you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.
for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.
it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.
lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—
"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.
you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.
you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.
you knew you wanted to feel this way again.
——————————————————————————
final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)
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cozage · 8 months
Note
Coza!! Congrats on your 2K followers. 🥳🎉🥂
I like your smuts and I’m having a hard time choosing what scenarios to request!! I’m so excited for this event you have no idea. May I request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy+ Sanji+ Zoro+ Law+ Eustass Kid + Killer to you reading smuts/hentai please? Thank you!!
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A/N: Hi :) I wasn't able to do everyone, but I did a few! Minors…OUT! go on! Get! Scram! Also I won’t lie Zoro’s is based loosely off of the funniest comic I’ve seen in my life that stays living rent free in my head Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law Cw: smut and suggestive, NO MINORS ALLOWED ON THIS POST PLS GO AWAY Total word count: 900
Scandalous Reading
Luffy
Luffy’s head rested on your shoulder, his eyes lazily skimming the page that you were reading. 
“Woah!” Luffy grabbed the book out of your hand and put it up to his face to get a better view of the words. “I didn’t even know this was possible!”
“Luffy!” You reached for the book, but he held it just out of your reach, still reading. 
“I didn’t even think about trying-”
“Luffy! Give it back!”
His wide eyes peered over the pages, but he refused to hand it back to you. “Do you like this stuff?”
“I mean-I don’t-I just-” Your face turned beet red at the implication. “It’s just written really well!”
He gave you a mischievous grin and took off back toward his room, book in tow. “Come on!” he called. “I want to see if it really can work this way!”
Oh, you were in for a rough night.
Sanji
“My love, did you-” Sanji stopped, his eyes fixated on the book cover you were reading.
“Sanji?” you prompted, trying to get his attention.
“I know that author,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Where do I know that-”
“You probably don’t!” You slammed your book shut and shoved it behind your back. “What did you need?”
“Oh! Right! Would you like gelato or ice cream?”
“Surprise me!” you said, trying to get his mind off the book. “I’m sure whatever you make will be amazing!”
Sanji was in the kitchen when he finally placed it, and he almost collapsed from the realization of what he had caught you reading.
He brought you out the finest gelato he had ever made and set it down next to you. “So, my love,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “How is your book?”
“It’s good,” you said. You set it down to grab your gelato, and Sanji lunged for it. 
He skimmed the pages, confirming his suspicion, and tried his hardest not to pass out from the filth his eyes found. “You’re reading book porn!” he whispered sharply. “You always get on me for staring at-”
“That’s not the same,” you hissed. “These aren’t real people! It’s different!”
“It is not!”
“What am I supposed to do!?” you snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re busy in the kitchen, I have to entertain myself somehow during the day!”
Oh, that was a bad way of wording things, because the second the words were out, Sanji’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you want to do something like this? Because I would love nothing more than to treat you like the royalty I know you are.”
Zoro
“What are you reading?” Zoro asked, looking at your book cover. 
“A book.” You tilted the book slightly to shield him from seeing any of the words.
“What’s it about?” He seemed strangely interested in the cover. “Swordmaking?”
Oh right, there was a sword on the front cover of the book. No wonder he was so interested in it. 
“It’s called Swords and Snakes. It’s a book about…royalty, love, and betrayal.”
He scrunched his face in disgust and went back to resting his eyes. “Not really my kind of book.”
You grinned. "No, I don't think it is." You set your book down and stood up. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go get a snack.”
“Riceballs.”
You nodded and went to the kitchen to grab food. What you hadn’t been expecting was returning to Zoro staring wide-eyed at the page you had dog-earred. 
He looked up at you in amusement, smirking at your anxious body language. “You weren’t joking about love and betrayal.”
“That’s mine!”
“More like love-making and betrayal,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they wrote books like this. I didn’t know you would read books like this.”
“Well to be fair-” you snatched the book from his hands. “I didn’t know you could read at all!”
“Don’t be too bratty now,” he teased. “Or I’ll give you the same treatment that knight gave the princess.”
Law
You had only left your book laying on the bedside table for a minute while you ran to the bathroom. But damn that Trafalgar Law, he was so nosey. 
“Quite the fantasy world you read about,” he hummed as you walked back into the room.
“What do you-” your words died in your throat, seeing him flip through the pages. “Oh, that.” You gave a nervous laugh, striding back over to your bed. 
“Yes, this.” He slapped the book shut, peering up at you with such a predatory and lustful look that you almost took a step backward. 
“I just picked it up at the last bookstore we went to,” you lied. “I don’t even know what it’s about.”
“Right,” he said, clearly not believing you. 
He handed the book back to you, and you quickly grabbed it. “Thanks,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes. 
“Sure.” He stood to take his leave, heading back to the lab. He stopped on his way out, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 
“If you ever want to make it a reality, all you have to do is ask.”
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gigabyte-flare · 11 months
Text
Insatiable (Part 2)
Part 1
Summary: Your collages should have listened to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Huge shout out to @chanif-art who's artwork continues to inspire me and this story. I am completely blown away with how well part 1 was received. Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented and even simply read it. I didn't do a tag list for this one because I think well over 50 people asked and I completely lost track. Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations! I was listening to Little Girl Gone while writing this... for some reason it just fits plagas!Leon.
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“Honey, I’ve changed so much since I last saw ya.”
You open your eyes, finding yourself inside Leon’s cell. You dart your head around, looking frantically when you realize you’re chained to the chair, the same chair Leon had previously been chained to. You hear Leon chuckle, a low chilling sound as he walks up from behind you, taking long, slow strides. He turns to face you, you notice the black veins sprawling his body have gotten darker, his eyes more red. He grins as he kneels down to be at eye level with you, his four canine teeth noticeably sharp. He runs his tongue along his teeth.
“There you are, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Leon says with a purr. 
Your eyes are wide, taking labored deep breaths before you attempt to struggle. Leon laughs, shaking his head.
“That won’t do you any good I’m afraid, but don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those chains so we can have some play time.”
Leon stands back up, walking back behind you. You hear him break the chains apart with his bare hands. You waste no time bolting out of the chair and to the door. No matter how much you pull, the door won’t budge. You turn around to find Leon standing directly behind you. He grabs you by the waist pulling you to him. You flail your arms at him, trying to fight him off. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bryan on the other side of the clear panel holding a clipboard, taking notes.
“Bryan?! Get me out of here! I’m trapped in here with him, please! He’s going to hurt me!”
Bryan lifts his head, shaking it, “the data you’ll provide from this is too valuable to pass up I’m afraid. We need to know if he’s capable of procreating with a un-infected human and what the offspring will look like.”
“WHAT?!” you scream, “Bryan have you lost your mind?!”
Completely ignoring your pleas, Bryan continues, “remember what we agreed on, Leon. You are not to infect her with the plaga until she gives birth. After that, you can do with her as you please.”
“I remember the agreement, you fucking prick,” Leon growls next to your ear before he licks your earlobe. 
“NO I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS BRYAN, YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” you continue to scream as you try to fight Leon off.
Leon, however, is much more powerful than you; he bites into your shoulder and makes short work of pinning you to the floor, his hands gripping your jeans and ripping them off you, leaving you with your pair of lace panties. You attempt to crawl across the floor towards Bryan, but Leon drags you back by your hips. Leon flips you over to face him, caging you with his body. He simply stares down at you, his smile wide. You watch as drool drips from his face onto your shirt, which he promptly rips apart to reveal your matching bra to him.
“Aren’t you just delicious to look at?” Leon says, licking his lips before locking his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. 
To your horror, you’re returning his kiss, his hands grasping to both of your breasts. He pulls away after a couple minutes, sitting on his haunches as he pushes your legs apart, noting the dark spot that is now on your panties.
“Oh? You don’t want this? Then tell me why you’re so fucking wet, sweetheart?”
Leaning forward, he grabs your panties with his teeth, dragging them off you before tossing them aside. He then begins undoing the belt on his pants; before long he is pulling his hardening cock from his pants. He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, pushing himself inside you balls deep with ease. 
When the head of his cock kisses your cervix, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan. Leon growls, thrusting into you with an insatiable ferocity, causing you to grip his arms, scratching into them with your nails. You felt like he was fucking you for an eternity when he let’s out another growl, pressing into you as deep as he could possibly go. You feel your cunt clamp around his cock, milking his cum into your body.
Leon stares back down at you, his eyes and grin wide as he laughs maniacally.
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You wake up screaming, covered in sweat and tears streaming down your face. You take deep breaths, laying your hand on your chest to ground yourself.
It was just a nightmare.
Once you get yourself calm, you climb out of bed and go into the kitchen of your apartment, making yourself coffee and some toast for breakfast. Afterwards, you get ready for work and head out the door. On your way, you decide to stop at the pharmacy. Walking the aisles, you find the feminine hygiene products, grabbing an ovulation test off the shelf and paying for it. Once you get to HQ, you trap yourself into one of the bathroom stalls, taking the test and waiting for the results. You watch in horror as a little smiley face shows up on the little screen, confirming your hypothesis.
You collect yourself before briskly walking into Bryan’s office. You don’t knock, you simply push the door open aggressively, startling both Bryan and the researcher he’s meeting with, you think his name is Pierce.
“I am not going back down there, Bryan,” you say sternly. 
Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing up to leave, “I’ll go check on the camera feed downstairs.”
You and Bryan stare at each other as the door swings shut. Bryan rubs his eyes.
“Not this again, I’m sorry but I need you to go down there, you’re still the only one Leon talks to. Is this about what happened yesterday? I assure you, we have taken extra precautions to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”
You stomp up to Bryan’s desk, slamming the positive ovulation test onto the desk. Bryan looks down at the test before looking at you and raising an eyebrow.
“The fuck is this?” he asks.
“I’m ovulating, this is why Leon keeps saying I smell good and wants to practically throw himself on me whenever I’m down there.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Can you think of a logical explanation, then? I’m all ears.”
“This is not up for debate, you are going to continue working with Leon; that’s an order!”
Suddenly, the lights go dim before red emergency lights come on followed by a loud, screeching alarm.
“What the hell?!” Bryan exclaims, looking around confused.
You’ve never heard this alarm during your entire time at D.S.O., you rack your brain around what it could mean when suddenly, Pierce bursts into the office.
“Pierce! What the hell is going on out there?!” Bryan asks.
“Kennedy’s escaped, sir!”
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Leon opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around his cell. Deep down he was seething in rage; he had gotten so close to getting out of this chair and having his way with you. Now, his chair had reinforced steel plating welded to it and they strapped a god damn muzzle onto his face. He could see he now had two men with guns guarding the door at all times. 
Fucking beautiful.
He tested the chains again, but found they had been tightened recently, angering him even more. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and hoped he would see you today. He hated the thought of you seeing him like this, but he desperately wanted to see you and inhale your sweet, sweet scent.
Out of nowhere, an excruciating pain jolts down Leon’s spine, causing him to cry out and writhe in his chair. His four canine teeth grow sharper, his fingers turning black and now taking on a claw-like appearance and a new, sharp appendage was peaking out of his lower back. The guards turned around to look at Leon. They immediately unlock the door and come into this cell to check on him. Leon stops writhing, slumping over in his chair, pretending to be passed out. One guard stays by the door, facing away from them while the other comes over to check on Leon, checking the chains to make sure they’re in place.
Unbeknownst to the guard closest to Leon, Leon’s new tail was extending from his back, coming around from behind the guard. It was very similar to a scorpion’s tail, but instead of a barb on the end, it looked like a blade. Within an instant, Leon’s tail wraps around the guard’s neck, snapping it instantly as four claw-like appendages burst from Leon’s back, breaking the chains holding his arms in place. Hearing the other guard fall to the floor the other guard turns around only to be faced with Leon, who is now up out of his chair and walking towards him, ripping the muzzle off his face, flashing a maniacal grin at the guard. The guard goes to shoot Leon but Leon is much faster, his tail whipping forward and impaling the man in the chest before flinging him aside. 
Leon strides out of his cell, looking down the hallway to see a pair of researchers coming down the hallway. Upon seeing Leon out of his cell, they start shouting at each other and turn to run in the opposite direction. Leon smiles, breaking into a sprint. He leaps, pinning one researcher to the ground with his body while his tail grabs the other by the waist, lifting him into the air.
“Where is she?!” Leon asks with a growl to the researcher he has pinned to the floor.
“Where’s who?!” the researcher stutters.
“Don’t play dumb with me! Where is she?!”
“Up-Upstairs! In Br-Bryan’s office!”
Leon’s mouth clamps down onto the researcher's neck, ripping out his throat as his tail squeezes the other until his spine snaps, falling to the floor as Leon lets him go. At that moment, all the lights dim before red emergency lights come on. Leon breaks back into a sprint to the elevator however, it was not working no matter how many buttons he pushed. He uses his tale to rip a hole into the ceiling, leaping up into it and climbing the elevator shaft. 
Once he reaches the top, he pries the elevator door open, swinging down, landing gracefully in the hallway. People are scrambling to get away from him, bumping and tripping over each other to run down the hallway. Leon’s red eyes scan the area, however, he sees no sign of you. More guards with guns show up, firing at him. His tale whips forward, deflecting their bullets with ease as he lunges forward. He impales one operative with his tail while his hand thrusts through the chest of another, gripping the man’s still beating heart in his claws before crushing it.
“Take her and get out of here!” he hears a man yell from down the hallway.
Leon’s attention is immediately drawn to the man that yelled, immediately recognizing him as Bryan. At one time, he liked the man, a brilliant scientist. Too bad he has to die. Leon watches as Bryan pulls out a pistol, firing shots at him. Again. Leon’s tail and back claws deflect the shots as he stands face to face with Bryan, his tail whipping around and decapitating the man with ease. He brings his tail’s blade to his lips, licking off the blood as he proceeds to walk down the hallway towards the entrance of HQ. 
A researcher is leading you out the front door, shoving you through the door with his back turned to Leon. He’s about to head out himself before Leon’s tail goes straight through his chest. Leon hears the man’s death gurgles as he flings him behind him, his body falling about 20 feet away with a loud thud. 
And there you are, cowering in the entry vestibule, your eyes locked on him, looking up and down his body. Leon straightens out his posture in hopes of making himself alluring to you, his tail whipping back and forth while his back claws flex. 
“Do you actually think you can escape me?” Leon coos, watching as you press your back as hard as you can into the glass doors as he comes closer.
“You never will, my love.” he continues with a grin, licking his sharp canines.
You stumble out of the door, bolting into the street and running as fast as you can to your car.
“I will find you.”
Part 3
3K notes · View notes
kikohao · 1 month
Text
ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. operation: one bed
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★ ㅤㅤpairing ; agent!jeonghan x agent!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; you and jeonghan were assigned a case together, you both played the roles of an engaged couple. why is it that you had to share a bed to sell the act? ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; spy au, one bed trope. fluff, mentions of seungcheol, soonyoung, and joshua ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, kissing, slight jealousy, use of nicknames ("babe") ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; one bed trope with jeonghan has been rotting my mind for almost a week omg im really happy i was able to finish it on time! i've never really wrote a "kissing" scene before so im really sorry if its weird bye 😭 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated! <3
"Agent Kim, do you hear me?" You try to maintain a formal persona, as you talk into your built-in earphones as you make your way to the grand venue.
"Loud and clear. Make sure your earpiece is switched on at all times." A tuneless voice followed.
Upon entering the hotel, you and Jeonghan were greeted by the expansive lobby that screamed elegance and sophistication.
"They must be bloody rich," Jeonghan muttered quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. He was right though, there were multiple marble chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow upon all the guests. 
It was extraordinarily exquisite.
"Pass the details," Jeonghan spoke into his earpiece as we moved to a certain corner of the corridors, hoping to maintain a low profile throughout the whole party. 
After a few shufflings of his notes, he responded.
"Agent Yoon, you're Jacob Choi, son of the most prestigious Grand Celestial Palace. I'm pretty sure no one would go into more detail about you, but make sure they buy the act. We can't risk anything. Agent Y/N, you're Ana Wang, Jacob's fiancee, I'll get back to both of you with more details on the individuals. For now, you both are an engaged couple, seemingly having an Alliance with Mr. Lin."
"Got it."
You and Jeonghan made your way towards the reception to mark you both in now that you've got your "personal" details. By doing so, you both were accompanied by a middle-aged man, possibly someone who worked there. He wore a black suit and bow, around 5'8?
"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," Agent Kim spoke from the earpiece.
"Why are you so tense?" Jeonghan muttered, "I'm not." You replied swiftly with a scoff earning nothing but a soft chuckle from him that kept on making my ears ring.
Why did your stomach suddenly start to churn? You disregarded it, possibly assuming it was hunger or thirst. Your train of thought was interrupted by a man who made his way towards us. He looked old, although, his rosy cheeks and flawless demeanor said otherwise. Guess he was the well-known, Mr. Lin.
"Oh, Mr. Choi!" He exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and shaking it vigorously.
You tried extremely hard to keep in the giggles that were trying to escape your mouth as you looked at Jeonghan's reaction to the sudden interaction from the man. You forcibly had to look away because you knew you'd fuck things up the second you made eye contact with him.
"It's been so long! How're you and your fiancee? Ms. Wang ain't it?" He questioned, looking towards you. Maybe it was just you and your overthinking capabilities, but you swore something was off about how he looked at you compared to how he looked at Jeonghan, but you decided to brush it off.
"We're doing quite well, thank you." Jeonghan put out, maintaining a calm composure that very well contrasted with his normal personality.
"How's your mom doing? I'm so sorry that happened to her," continued the man. You and Jeonghan shared a quick glance at each other, one that said -- "Oh we're so fucked if we mess this up."
"Mom is doing quite well, thanks for asking. She's doing much better." You replied, noticing the intense tension that followed. Seems like staying here for too long may be risky.
"Babe, why don't we get something to eat? I'm starving." You shared teasingly, looking at Jeonghan, enjoying the flushed expression that lay on his face as you managed to throw in a pout to make it seem more genuine. You both needed to instantly get away for a while to ask Agent Kim about the next plan, and this was the only resort.
Jeonghan excused himself as walked towards one of the empty tables, hand in hand. As soon as we took our seats, Jeonghan voiced through his earpiece, "What do we do next?"
"So far, we haven't found anything. And, I'm guessing neither have the two of you. I checked with Agent Kwon regarding the party details. Seems like everyone attending is encouraged to stay the night, I'm pretty sure it's just for them to make more affiliates, either that or just to show off how rich they are. Either way, I and the crew think it would be beneficial if you did so, in order to uncover more details on Mr. Lin, it would also help in selling your facade since I'm pretty sure he's catching up with suspicions of his."
"Are you sure about that?" You spoke softly into the earpiece, observing the surrounding area, "It sounds quite risky,"
"It is, indeed, but it's your call on whether you want to."
You look at Jeonghan, he seems to have similar thoughts as you do -- he doesn't seem too fond of the idea.
"What do you 'reckon?" you ask him, simultaneously taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine they'd provided all the attendees.
"Well, it is pretty risky. But, we'd better do as per Mr. Kim and Mr. Kwon since we'd have to put up with these titles until we get the requirements. It'd help sell the act." He finally spoke.
It was unusual. It was unusual how he seemed calm and collected amidst something like this. You'd imagined him to be some kind of reckless person like the persona he usually played so you weren't quite fond of going with him.
You nodded -- he had a point. The faster Mr. Lin believed us, possibly the quicker we could get this case over with.
And, this was it.
Jeonghan hurried towards the hotel management before it was too late to get a room while you sat at your spot, gazing at everyone who attended such a social gathering.
Guess you realized you zoned out when a young man, maybe in his 20s, sat next to you and started up a conversation like good old friends.
"No way, Ana? Is that you?" He put up a question, his face in awe.
"Oh, yes, hello." you manage to spit out, giving off a small smile as you gaze at Jeonghan, his back facing towards you as he converses with the management team.
Guess I'm fucked.
"You were never the one for these kinda parties, you always mentioned that they were too crowded. Guess you grew out of your phase?" He smiled cheekily avoiding the fact that he most possibly just insulted you, or at least the role you're currently playing.
Is this gaslighting?
A phase? How is not wanting to go out and talk with people a phase? You didn't know who Ana was nor did you ever meet her, but you most certainly didn't like someone like him straight up insulting someone.
"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, maintaining a small smile. The last thing you wanted was your cover to get blown.
"Oh, Nothing. How's Jacob? He be treating you well?" He continued as he took a small sip from his cocktail drink.
You nodded, glancing every now and then at your so-called "companion" who's left you to talk to some guy who supposedly knows you. It made you laugh how he thinks he's all that -- you could easily spot how the guy was wearing a worn-out suit and tie, most probably already used, and how he just seemed sketchy. 
"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," 
He did seem quite sketchy.
You spotted Jeonghan making his way back, guess God did hear your prayers after all. As soon as the guy spotted "Jacob" making his way towards us, he excused himself and left. Possibly to get another drink.
"Guess who managed to get us a room with my good looks," he winked at you, holding the keys high up. You couldn't help but chuckle.
Cute, you thought. Instantly regretting it when Jeonghan pointed out who flushed your face looked.
"Oh shut it, Yoon. Look, now you've ruined the mood." You shot back before he got a chance to say something sly.
His smile didn't last long though. "Oh and, who was that?" He asked, most likely mentioning the guy who'd been talking with you while he went to get the keys.
"Some guy who knows Ana. No clue, but he seemed sketchy." You replied, taking the keys from him.
A few hours passed with nothing but talking with the other participants, drinking, eating, talking again, drinking, talking...
"Huge thanks to everyone who was able to attend today. I wish all those returning back home a safe ride. Everyone who's staying for the night, you may make your way towards your rooms. Have a wonderful night!" Mr. Lin spoke out after clinking his wine glass, attaining attention from everyone present in the hall.
You followed Jeonghan as you made your way toward your room, slightly gazing in awe at all the picturesque art on the walls.
As soon as we entered our rooms, we both noticed the same exact thing.
There was only one bed.
One bed.
Anyone would expect Jeonghan to take up the sofa that was present in the room. Well, guess what? You were wrong.
There was a minute of silence before Jeonghan spoke out loud. "I'm taking the bed. You can take the bed if you want, but I'm not taking the sofa if that's what you're thinking." He smirked as he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack before heading towards the bed.
Well, what did you expect?
That Jeonghan would give up the bed?
No chance and not at all surprising.
"You're such a gentleman aren't you?" You placed your shoes alongside him, making your way to the bed, not ready to give it up either. "They should've sent Joshua with me," You sighed out loud for him to hear.
"Joshua?"
"Well, anyone taking a good look at us would know that we're meant to be," You reasoned, followed by a breathy scoff from Jeonghan. You cooed at his reaction, "Aw, babe, didn't know you were the jealous type," you added, teasingly. You hated to admit it but playing Ana was fun.
"Yeah, right." 
We both had got into bed by the time it was 11. You switched the lamp that was present in your dimly lit room.
4 AM.
He stared right at me, with his dusk-brown eyes. But, it wasn't a normal stare. But a stare that held desire within. You both faced towards each other, the middle barrier made of pillows long gone.
"What?" You slurred slightly, still half-asleep, heart, leaping in your chest.
It was now that you realized that you failed to realize how ethereal he looked. His tired eyes bore into yours, as his bangs lay lazily on his face.
He leaned in slightly, reducing the gap between us. 
"Your eyes are really pretty," He muttered. It always amazed you how he didn't have much of a deep voice like other men, but still seemed dominant without it.
That was a stab to the heart. Not in a bad way though. In a way that made you want to kiss him. You wanted to hold him.
Maybe it was an exaggeration, but you swore you couldn't breathe as soon as he gently placed his lips, carefully molded into a heart, onto yours, locking it in place for a swift second before pulling away.
It lasted like a second or two, but your face looked as if you'd just run a marathon.
"Yoon, are you drunk?" you finally spoke out, not believing what just happened. You thoroughly enjoyed it, but how could he kiss you just like that?
"Yoon doesn't sit right with me, 'Babe' sounds much better."
461 notes · View notes
ma1dita · 8 months
Text
it will pass
part two can be found here -> without a doubt
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words: little under 2k
summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.
warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)
a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me
(posted 9/8/23)
There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.
You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.
“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”
Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?
Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.
“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”
Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.
There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.
“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”
He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.
“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.
James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.
Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.
You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.
He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.
“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.
“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.
“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”
“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.
“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.
When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?
“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.
“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”
Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.
“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”
“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.
Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.
“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.
“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.
And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.
After all, he’s not yours, not really.
There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.
Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.
“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”
“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.
“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.
“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”
You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.
“Combust, probably.”
Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.
You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.
James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.
“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.
“Never used to have to tell you.”
“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.
“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”
Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.
You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.
“I love you.”
It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.
James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.
“It’ll pass.”
No, it won’t. Not this.
You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.
“I’m—”
“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.
Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.
“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”
The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.
James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.
You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.
The End
“I don’t know what to say,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what
we are— and I know what we’re not.”
Lang Leav
1K notes · View notes
uglypastels · 7 months
Note
I absolutely loved your sanji fic!! You wrote it so well and so insanely hot but i was wondering if you would write something for buggy?
Like, imagine him letting you use his hand like a toy or something
thank you so much for the kind words and the request!! I did take this for a bit of a spin, so I hope it's still okay, but with that being said, this is wild, pure and unadulterated filth, and I wish I was sorry for this, but I'm really not. Read the tags, and if you don't like the sound of them, please just scroll.
word count: ~2k
warnings: SMUT. 18+ only. MDNI. pwp filth. free use and objectification. masturbation and fingering. pussy slapping. voyeurism. somnophilia. dacryphilia. probs dub-con and loser/perv!buggy. some degradation. swearing. do Buggy's DF powers need a warning? well, here it is anyway, ig.
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Sweet Dreams
The first time it happened, you thought you had dreamt it.
You had had a conversation with the Captain ages ago but had thought barely anything of it yourself after and doubted he would act on it, so the following day, you had convinced yourself it had just been your imagination running wild. Because, surely, there was no way that Buggy would have come into your room at night.
Besides, you would have woken up if he had, right?
But then, you kept having this dream. And it always felt so real and began the same way. You would stir in your sleep as you felt his hand graze your face softly, letting you lean into his touch. He would hold you briefly before slowly walking down to the edge of your bed covers, pulling them down to reveal your body.
He would take his time touching you in one way or another. Sometimes, he would take his time and spend ages just teasing you and letting his hands roam over your body and groping your breasts, toying with your nipples, touching you anywhere but there. You'd wake up hot and agitated as your body was practically on fire at the memory of his touch.
Other nights, you would be startled by the gentle pull of your leg, spreading your thighs open. While the first time it happened was quite a shock, you welcomed it now. You would go to sleep, hoping to feel him on you again. For his fingers to rub over your clit, slip through your folds and fill you up until you were whimpering for a release.
And each time it happened, he'd get rougher, move faster, deeper and harsher. Fucking you with his fingers until the bed shook. That is when you would try to reach for him, for anything, just to be disappointed with the dreamscape because he wasn't there with you.
But, fuck, did you wish he was. More and more each night until, one day, you whined out for him in desperation. Like a dam had broken open, your room flooded with moans of his name. First, soft whimpers, but as time passed, his name echoed through you louder and louder.
'I'm so- I'm so close, Buggy. Fuck,' you cried out, feeling that familiar tightness in your body, growing tighter, ready to snap, but the release came in the cruellest form with his hand disappearing from between your legs.
The disappointment of the ruined climax practically woke you up, and you stared at the dark ceiling, trying to catch your breath. Why did he have to stop there? You were so close you just needed a few more seconds.
Your chest finally began to rise and fall at a normal pace, and you were ready to close your eyes again to fall back asleep when you heard the sound of a slow clap.
As it kept going, you jumped up in bed to be greeted with the sight of your captain standing on the threshold, applauding you from across the room.
'Captain?' you blinked, trying to make sure you were seeing things correctly, 'what- what are you doing here?'
'I couldn't help myself, baby.' While you had tried to speak with a hushed tone, considering the late hour, he never had been the considerate type of other people's sleep schedules and spoke just like any other time.
He smiled as he began making his way towards your bed. 'You just sounded so pretty, making such a mess of yourself and then-' his excitement doubled with each word he said. 'Well, and then you said my name, and I swear I could just about cream my pants!'
A shriek escaped you when, out of nowhere, he jumped up on top of you, arms on either side, locking you in between his body, his face nearly pressing against yours. So close you could feel his breath on you when he spoke again, this time in an almost disappointed growl. 'You know how long I waited for you to say it? Just an itty bitty moan, anything, but you never had. Never moaned my name before. Why's that, hmm?'
'I-' you stuttered, but he kept on going.
'Don't I make you feel good?' His lips turned into an exaggerated pout. You tried to say something but were simply too stunned to form a response, and so, even though Buggy had pulled away already, he pressed his face once again up against yours to practically shout. 'Well!? What is it?! Would you rather have someone else fuck you every night?!'
'No, captain.' You finally managed to say. 'I just- I didn't think it was real.' It must have all been a dream, right?
'Oh, it's real, alright.' He was giggling now, one of his hands brushing over your hair softly. 'All those times you came, that was all me, baby!' He gave you a sloppy kiss on the forehead and sighed out in relief. 'Just wish I was here to see it before.'
And that's when you felt it. Despite him still, practically, lying on top of you with his arms over your head, you felt his hand roam over your upper thigh. The closer he came to reaching your pussy, the wider his smile grew. 'Whatcha think, wanna finally put on a proper show for me, baby?'
'What do you-' you weren't sure where the captain was going with this.
'C'mon,' he pressed his lips against your ear, sending shivers through your entire body. 'Wanna see how you've been fucking yourself with my hand all this time.' To emphasise his demand, you were surprised with a slap across your clit. If it wasn't for the fact that he had all his weight pressed on you, you would have jerked up from the sensation.
Finally, he got up, and you watched him search the room for a place to sit, picking up the clothes you had mindlessly discarded on the armchair in the corner. He took the items of clothing, one by one, just to throw them right onto the ground, except for a pair of your panties, which he stuffed into his back pocket. He then fell back into the chair and, with a satisfied smile, called out to you, 'aand... action.'
But you didn't move. Unsure of what to do, your self-consciousness only being enhanced by his strict gaze entirely focused on you, you froze.
'I said, action.' Buggy repeated himself. 'Is there a problem, deary?'
You shook your head. 'No, I just... well I'm not really sure what to do, I guess.'
'Aww, there's no need to be shy. I mean,' he laughed, 'It's not like it will be your first time, but alright let me help- do you need a hand, baby?' He made himself giggle as the hand in question was already between your legs.
'Ok, ok,' he jumped around in his seat. 'Please, get comfortable, and here, I'll even look away.' He covered his eyes with his hand, but even in the dark, you could tell he wasn’t able to hold in his laugh, and his fingers were spread apart for him to have you in his full view.
You knew he had no intention of leaving. And after all, he had done so much for you... and even now, there would be so little you would be doing for him. All the pleasure would be yours. Just the way he looked at you, with that hunger in his eyes, it made your head spin. It may be better to just look away yourself. So, you let yourself fall back onto your pillow.
As you did so, his hand found its spot between your legs, one finger already over your pussy. If there had been any doubt about it really being Buggy who was touching you, it evaporated at the sound of his excited laugh as he felt you squirm.
'That's what I'm talking about, baby!' He cheered, and god, if you dared to talk like that to your captain, you would have told him to shut up.
'Please,' you said instead, feeling that unfulfilled sensation creep up inside you, reminding you of all the nights before, but mostly, the orgasm he had ruined minutes ago. But his hand kept up with his sly movements, only gently moving up and down your slit, never crossing the line to give you the needed satisfaction.
To get that, you knew what you had to do. You knew what he wanted you to do.
So, you reached down to meet his fingers. They practically wrapped around yours, almost affectionately, and you could feel the juices accumulated over his callouses while he teased you.
Once he felt your grip on him, he adjusted his fingers, positioning them just right for you. It wouldn't be any different from before, you tried to tell yourself, and if anything, this gave you control, wouldn't it?
Perhaps you were moving too slowly for his liking. Still in your hold, you felt him pull himself closer to you, to your pussy. You didn't try to hold him back when he finally entered you. Two slender fingers filling you, accompanied by your relieved moan of satisfaction.
But that is where he stopped. Deep inside you, he didn't move a muscle.
The rest was up to you.
It's like any other toy, you told yourself, pulling him away slowly, then pulling him back. The friction was there, but you needed more, so you kept going, trying to find the right balance between speed and force. Soon enough, you could focus on the pleasure and how his fingers were making you feel, and the moans and whimpers seeped out between your lips, immediately rousing Buggy.
'That's right. Fuck my hand like the dirty whore you are.' The excitement in his voice was almost scary, vibrating straight through the room to you.
'Buggy!' You cried out at his words.
'Sorry, sorry.' He pulled himself back. 'But can you blame me? Fuck. You're just so tight and wet. Come on, keep going.' You dared to glance his way, ensure that he still sat where you had last seen him and, indeed, he sat in that armchair, legs spread, almost inviting, and a visible tent in his trousers.
He just sat there, enjoying the show you put on for him.
And you did as you were told, thrusting his hand in and out of you. It was impossible to tell what was his or your doing, and it didn’t matter. All you cared to think about was how good he felt, hitting all the right spots inside you as you pushed him deeper. 
‘Buggy,’ you moaned. 
‘That’s right. Say my name, baby,’ Buggy growled from his chair. As he spoke, you felt his hand tense up inside you, push deeper into you, fingers spreading slightly. 
‘Fuck, yes. Do that again.’ You were a mess, with hair sprawled out at all angles and sweat appearing in a sheer sheet over your body from the intensity of your movements. But you could swear that when you looked at your captain, it was as if he was watching a masterpiece unfold. Although, at the sound of your demand, something in him quirked.
‘What was that?’
‘Please, Buggy, do that again… that, with your fingers.’ You pleaded, trying to keep up your own pace. 
‘Oh, sweetheart, I think you got this all wrong.’ Slowly, he got up from the chair. His hand stilled within you; no matter what you tried to do with it, it wouldn’t budge. You stared up at him until he reached the side of your bed, leaning over you, pressing his other hand over your face, bringing your cheeks in until you could feel his fingertips against your teeth.
‘You don’t tell me what to do. Ever!’ He shouted the last word into your face. ‘Got it?’ 
In his hold, you could only nod your head in agreement. 
‘Good,’ he sat down, much happier with the situation. ‘Now, where were we, hmm? Oh, that’s right—’ While he had been telling you off, you had let go of his hand, so now he had the complete freedom to move as he pleased. And so, he pulled out of you, and before you had the chance to protest or respond, you felt the sting of another harsh slap across your pussy. 
Without another warning, he was inside you again, moving at a pace you could never reach, practically drilling his fingers into you. You grabbed onto the sheets, eyes shut, but not for long. Only until Buggy had noticed you doing so. 
‘No, no, no. That won’t do. Look at me.’ He snapped his fingers in front of your face. ‘Look at me when I fuck you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologised with heavy breaths. ‘Just feels so— you feel so good. Fuck.’
‘Hmm, I know.’ He squatted beside the bed, crossing his arms to pillow his chin on, with a big, wicked, but extremely adoring smile. ‘So, why don’t you cum on my fingers, baby. Soak ‘em for me.’
You were undoubtedly getting there, the build-up of two ruined orgasms making things feel even worse, more sensitive. Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you could sense how Buggy was watching them drop. 
‘That’s it.’ He whispered with an intensity you had never heard before. ‘Come for me.’ 
And so, you did. The pleasure washed over you like a tsunami with a scream that must have woken up the entire sideshow, but it did not stop Buggy from letting his fingers have his way with you until long after you cried out his name for the so-manieth time. 
‘Thank you,’ you managed to say when he finally pulled out of you. In the instant moment, it was like your whole body was released from a tight rope and fell into the comfort of the mattress. 
‘Believe me,’ he snickered, reattaching his hand to bring it up to his lips, sucking all of you off his fingers, dramatically so. ‘It was my pleasure.’ 
the end 
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thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story, please reblog it to spread the word around, and I would love to hear your thoughts so leave a comment or a message.
INBOX < for comments, thoughts (and thots) and other requests
My One Piece masterlist is still underworks, but will be linked soon.
998 notes · View notes
azriels-shadowsinger · 2 months
Note
you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺
“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”
Azriel x Reader
wc: 2k
a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.
prompt list
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You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.
After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.
“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.
“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.
“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.
“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.
“Excuse me?” You scoff.
“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.
“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.
“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.
“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.
“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.
———
You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.
Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.
Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.
Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.
You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.
“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.
“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.
Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.
A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.
“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.
“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.
Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.
The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.
“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.
“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.
———
It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.
You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.
“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.
“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.
“You came in after me?” He barks.
“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.
“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.
“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?
“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.
“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.
“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.
“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.
“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.
“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.
“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.
“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.
“What?”
“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.
“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.
“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.
“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.
“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.
“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.
“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”
“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.
“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.
It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.
———
Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.
“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.
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prompt list
tag list: @fxckmiup
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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glitter * mv1
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it's the morning after a party, and you find yourself tangled up in bed with your boyfriend
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: fluff!! (which is rare for me)
notes: the first one for my 2k sleepover!! my requests are open for my 2k follower sleepover event!!
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“darling, wake up.”
the grip around your waist tightens and your back is pressed up on max’s chest. his lips linger on the back of your neck as his thumb traces circles on your bare waist.
you hum in response, your hand covering the back of his that laid on your waist. “good morning, love.”
“it’s 1pm. we need to feed the cats and eat something ourselves,” he whispers. the bed dips behind you and when you open your eyes, max is looming over your shoulder with a smile. “good morning.”
“5 more minutes,” you mumble. you shuffle in the bed, adjusting the duvet as you turn and force max back down into the bed. you throw your arms around his bare torso and bury your face into the pillow. “i’m too tired to get up.”
he shakes in a chuckle, making you pull away and furrow your eyebrows to glare at him. he simply grins at you and moves the stray hairs from your face. “you said that at 11am when i tried waking you up.”
you groan and drop your head onto the pillow. you put your fingers over his eyelids and force them close as you bury your face into his chest. “i’m saying it again now at 1pm. go back to sleep.”
the sun barely illuminates the room you share. you don’t know where the cats are, and while you are concerned about them, sleeping is the only way to cure the pounding you feel in your head.
max had thrown a party the night before, celebrating the end of the 2023 season with the grid. he had it in your house and invited everyone that could say yes. and he threw a raging party.
it did end at 5 in the morning, fueled to last that long with endless party games and loud laughter. you can safely admit that you drank a little too much knowing that you had nowhere to be the next morning.
you didn’t take into account how hungry the cats would be at 1pm. in your defense, though, you’d drunkenly filled up their food bowl before you fell into bed with max at 6.
“but we have to get up,” max mumbles, twirling a piece of your hair on his finger. he presses a kiss to your temple then rubs your shoulder gently. “some of the guys stayed over — carlos is making pancakes.”
you have to admit the pancakes that carlos makes is absolutely delectable. but it’s not enough to convince you to get up.
“he’ll make some for me later if i ask.”
“bold of you to assume that.”
“i know he will. he loves me.” you tighten your grip around him and yank him closer to you. “shut up, max. i’m trying to sleep.”
“then i will get up, okay?” he whispers, slowly untangling himself from your arms. “i’m very hungry and thirsty.”
you frown as the bed moves and the warmth of his body leaves you. you peek through an eye, watching him bend down to get his shorts off the ground and pull it up his legs.
“do you want any coffee? what about water? i’ll bring it up to you, if you want,” he offers, turning to you as he pulls his shirt down. “what about orange juice?”
but you didn’t want to be in bed alone. so now you’re slowly pushing yourself up the mattress, ignoring the way your world spins and head pounds with every second passing.
“darling, get back in bed. i’ll get you what you need.” his voice wavers as he rushes over to your aid when you stumble at the edge of the bed. “i’ll get you some pills for the headache.”
“i want pancakes,” you mutter as you fish for your shorts resting peacefully on the hardwood floor. “and i should help you clean. it’s my house too.”
“it was my party. you just sit back and relax until you feel better,” he says. he pats your head, grabbing the headband sitting on the bedside table peacefully.
he gently pushes your hair back and slides on the top of your head. "are you sure you want to get up now?"
you nod your head, eyes scanning the floor for the shirt you'd thrown somewhere here in the middle of the night. instead, your attention catches a picture reflecting a ray of sun onto a small patch of the wall.
you wobble over to it and pick it up, a polaroid picture of you and max from the night before. it's a tame picture from before the night had gone wild: you're in the kitchen by the fridge with a bottle of beer in your hands with his hand around your waist, and your head on his shoulder.
you're sure that there's another somewhere, later in the night when you're both flushed from the alcohol and giggling on the couch with your legs on his lap.
"there's more pictures on the coffee table downstairs," max chuckles, towering over you from behind. he holds up a piece of clothing by your side, the shirt you'd been looking for seconds ago now accounted for. "were you looking for this?"
"it's my favourite hangover shirt," you giggle, receiving the shirt into your hands. when you put it on, it rests just below your thighs, covering your shorts very slightly.
it's max's shirt from his teen years, no longer fitting him as he grew, but it fit you perfectly on days you prefer loosely fitted clothing. you tuck the hems of the shirt into your shorts and pull it out to give yourself some air.
"ah, you've got glitter all over you, darling," max laughs, his thumbs grazing over your forearm where the said glitter sits on your skin.
he squeezes you three times before he drops his hand to his side, eyes scanning your body for more traces of glitter.
"laugh all you want but you've got one on your cheek too," you tease as you lift your hand up to try and scratch it off. "this is going to be ass to get off."
"you're the one who suggested getting glittery party hats, darling, i don't know what to say," he shrugs as he turns and walks over to the door. "let's get some food and start our day."
"okay," you mutter, walking over to him. you stop by the door where he is and lift your chin. "i had fun last night. great party."
"it was only great because you helped me throw it."
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Paring: jeonghan x you
Genre: fluff, 70's au, little to no angst
warnings: none, maybe a few swear words here and there
summary: jeonghan might be a cocky bastard but when it comes to you he will turn the world upside down, or so he claims.
words: 2k
a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.
a/n 2: i heard a podcast and it made me want to write this fic because the love story of the two hosts was sooo damn cutee.
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You knew Jeonghan from when you were literally a kid.
His father had moved to your city after a presentation from little Jeonghan on how to make a pocketknife using ice cream sticks that he learnt from his local friends, his mother mortified that her little sweet child would grow up to become a goon forced his father to change cities to go as far away from the place they physically could.
It was during his fathers pursuit for a stable Korean community in Canada’s ever-growing cities did he come across the name of your grandfather’s in the phonebook that sounded very much similar to his. Your grandfather being the trusting and kind man he was invited his father for a dinner in his house the following day and this event kickstarted a relationship between the two families wherein, his father bought a house six minutes away from yours in the small part of your city inhabited by mostly Asians.
You both had met when he was seven and you were only three, he still remembers babysitting you when you were in middle school as your parents trusted no one more than him. So, when he broke the beautiful glass table in your living room, he had skillfully blamed you resulting in a three-hour long lecture from your parents about taking care of ones possessions.
You hated Jeonghan then, you really did, so you refused to talk to him for the next almost five years.
Until you both found yourselves in a duet dance opposite to each other because it was the neighborhood talent show and it was mandatory for the kids to participate. Typical Asian parents.
To no ones surprise your dance number got a tad bit too much hype from the watchers and it kickstarted another full year of you both not talking to each other at all because of the teasing glances and suggestive remarks from adults and children alike.
The time you both talked to each other again was when it was you senior year prom at high school and your father being the overprotective man he was, did not allow you to go because according to him ‘prom is how American kids end up getting pregnant.’
He was wrong of course; kids get pregnant due to having sex but you being the soft-spoken kid you were did not have the gal to inform him that. You would rather spend the night being sad and watching Simpsons and crying about how unfair it is for your parents to not let you go and experience the night considered to rank number one in peak American high school experience.
This was the first time you saw Jeonghan as your lord and savior, which you obviously will never tell him because it will do nothing but fuel his over-the-top ego. But that day he had stepped in and talked to you father.
“It’s an experience and everyone should be able to experience it, I think you are wrong sir to take away this from your daughter,” he had oh so righteously said.
“Son, I would let her only if you take her, as I don’t trust anyone but you with my daughter.”
“So, I shall then.”
Now did this conversation shock you? Yes, it did especially your father’s response to Jeonghan, but you were not going to stir up any feminist conversation with your father right now, not when you just got the pass to go to prom.
That night was something you barely remember; it has been twenty years since then and you barely care about the overly hyped kids and the future alcoholics that you encountered that night. Now that you are wise and older, you understand your parents concern. Suzy from you class had become a mother at the prime age of eighteen, nine months later. You are thankful that your father made the wise choice for you that day.
That night from what you remember was just plain boring, you had come back at 11 to a quite house, had talked to the boy for the entirety of the night, watched the sunrise with him and at the end had hugged him thanking him for taking you to prom.
After that incident, you both had again gone onto your own ways and had not talked to each other for another year till the next family function, where you both were the only kids of the same age present as all your other friends were out of the country for college.
That weekend had sparked a friendship between you both, as you always stuck to each other’s side seeking comfort from one another as talking to anyone else somehow always circled back to your marriage and their extreme concern for your depleting eggs.
The friendship you both wove lasted a long while, throughout your college. Till one day you come back from a trip to Daegu, and he was there standing at the airport ready to rush you away from your family to the nearest Starbucks because he had some news for you.
Once in the café he informed you that he had landed the job he had been trying for right after finishing college. You were elated for him, so happy that you almost forgot to tell him about the potential marriage partner your parents had whipped up during your two-week-long stay there.
Jeonghan being the man he was asked you up front to marry him, confessing his hidden feeling for you and how the weight of them might have just decreased his height. Dramatic bitch.
You being brough back to reality told him no and stated the reason to be man you could have potentially married. He obviously told you to say no to this unknown ‘son of a bitch’ and accept his proposal.
So being the bigger person, because Jeonghan obviously refused to, you reminded him that you had never dated anyone let alone him and you will not marry a man you have not dated.
This conversation then ignited your relationship the first step of which was turning down the said ‘son of a bitch’ while telling your father you wanted to focus on your career more, which you really did. Fast forward six months and while keeping up the long-distance relation with frequent phone calls late at night because your parents might pick up the landline and eavesdrop if its during the day, while at the same time trying to search for a job near Boston went on.
On one late Sunday afternoon as you were sitting on the kitchen island sipping on coffee you got an email from on of the companies, you had given an interview to, informing you had gotten an onsite job that would require you to move to Cambridge, and you were over the moon.
So, the preparations began for your send off and again Jeonghan stepped in like the messiah he is. He is absolutely not one, you refuse to accept. The man went ahead and told your conservative father he will give up his life to take care of you, till this date you claim it will be the opposite if a situation like that befalls you both. After packing your bags, you were on your merry way to live with the man.
It took you both some time to adjust to the new settings he would be over at your place during the weekends and sometimes you would be at his. This continued for another year or so before one night as you both were laying on the bed together when Jeonghan suddenly piped up.
“I think you should see other people.”
Not understanding what he meant you turned towards the guy and asked, “what do you mean?”
“I know we will end up marrying each other, so I want you to experience dating other men too, so you don’t get to ever claim I was the only guy in your life,” he explained to you.
You had yet to get a taste of exactly how much of a cocky motherfucker you are dating, said innocently.
“But Jeonghan you are the only guy I ever dated.”
That was the end of that conversation that night before you both went to sleep, but his urging never stopped. It went on for a few days till one day your exhausted and a tad bit insecure self, lashed out at him claiming he wanted to cheat on you, and he wanted a break. So, you gave one to him.
Five years later during your sister’s wedding in Singapore was when his proposal was finally accepted. You had just arrived at the airport and yet again the man had swooped in and taken you away from your family under the guise of some kind of sound check that was needed to be done in the wedding venue.
That entire year you had a flower bouquet delivered early morning to your house with an apology letter, although the apologies lasted only for a month before you forgave the terrified man, who apologized profusely after you accepted to talk to him. Even though you did feel a bit bad after seeing him, the guy looked like he was living during the great depression.
After that all was smooth sailing and he never ever tried to upset you at all, but his playful nature persisted anyways, not like you minded that.
Your clueless self agreed to go with him and without a second thought he took you to the cables to take you to an island that was nowhere close to the wedding venue. As you were getting increasingly confused, you kept asking him where exactly you both were going. He kept deflecting the topic, so you ultimately gave up and, as another family came up on the cable car, you started talking about your flight that you took with your family. The poor man did not hear one word, he was sweating bullocks and was essentially confused why another family was in the cable car that he had fully booked for you both.
As the family got down at the end, he stopped you from doing so too claiming it is not the stop, even though it was the last one. It was then the nervous wreck of a man got down on one knee in front of asking for your hand in marriage once again, and you being so in love with him accepted to spend the rest of your life with the man.
The rest of it was history, you both had to tell your parents none of whom were shocked at all, rather relieved that you both had at last agreed to get married and be together forever.
Now ten years later and with your two children, you are perfectly content with your life. Waking up with Jeonghan beside you everyday sounds like a dream and you are happy it came true for you.
As you tossed around the bed you saw Jeonghan eyeing you in his half-awake state.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Us,” you answer snuggling closer to him.
“What about us, huh?”
“The way you forced me to date some other guy because you wanted me to have more experience in dating,” you laughed at the memory.
“Don’t tell me about that it still haunts me till this day” he retorts with a shudder.
“Why did you do it anyways?” you ask.
“I knew I was going to marry you so I wanted you to have some more experience with dating others so whenever you have an argument I could say ‘hey remember that looser you dated!’”, he answers with laugh.
With a laugh you slapped his shoulder exclaiming, “I sometimes forget how cocky you can get!”
"How else do you think I got the permission to propose you in someone else's marriage!" he states sassily.
With that Jeonghan snuggles closer to you some more, its Sundays anyways the kids are with their grandparents and you both have all the time in the world to just bask in each other’s presence and not do anything at all.
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