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#i have respect for other crack ships
whack-patty · 3 months
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Reporter asked if they were an ****item*****
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jessicas-pi · 11 months
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it's actually, genuinely, honestly hilarious that in a fandom where popular ships include characters who are biologically related, characters with a 10+ year age gap who met when one was a teenager or even a child, and characters who have tried to kill each other, people hate on a friends-to-lovers ship with a <2 year age gap where the characters have a deep emotional bond and plenty of romantic subtext, because "they're siblings". my brother in the force they are literally not.
#i'm just saying. out of all the ships in the star war; sabine and ezra have one of the healthiest dynamics#right up there with kanera and bail and breha and obitine and maybe a few others. there are SO few 'problems' with it.#not that those 'problems' make a ship BAD when it's written well or in certain context.#just that out of all the ships to pick on; people choose THIS one?????#the one with character growth and found family and mutual respect??#the one with self-sacrifice and decades-long loyalty and obitine parallels and a jetpack chase scene????#what's there to hate???#and i would add a disclaimer about how if you dont ship them its fine as long as you dont bully but honestly?#i am so so tired of having to qualify my statements.#this is about the targeted hate. this has always been about the targeted hate.#and i don't care if someone loathes something i love as long as they they keep that loathing out of my personal space.#this has been a tag rant. thank you for reading.#btw i'm not being sarcastic about it being hilarious. it genuinely cracks me up to see people get SO hateful over this#for a reason that does not exist#as opposed to several other ships which DO IN FACT HAVE THAT OBJECTION.#like. oh my gosh. are you even listening to yourselves.#if u wanna have the don't-ship-siblings fight then puhLEEZE bring it to someone who ships siblings.#jessica's controversial star wars opinions#sabezra#(don't worry that this post is a vent because i'm getting bullied or anything. im not visible enough for that i guess lol)#it was written in humor not in hurt :)
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lazyrezi · 5 months
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Love and peace on earth is when two bookworms talk about how one of them treasures the books like they're tiny gods made of paper while the other one says something about how you have to break open a book like you would a cold can of drink on a hot summer day when you are dying of thirst and neither of them are offended by each other on the book's behalf.
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verstarppen · 6 months
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omfg i love your fics they’re so funny 😭😭 i had an idea for a max fic that i think you would do so well 🫶 so like she’s his teammate and she has a bf (no idea who but prob another athlete or something since they tend to kinda be fboys 👀 but not another driver please because those dynamics make me cringe in second hand embarrassment 🙏) then he like cheats on her publicly, but she decides to live in idgafistan and max helps her make her ex jealous 😝 but he’s like actually been into her for a really long time and everyone ships them and stuff and then he bags her with his irresistible chronically offline awkward white boy rizz 💋
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summary; cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life
pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]
warnings; suggestive language, swearing
a/n; DISCLAIMER the boyfriend is made up and also a sims 2 reference, if by chance there is a real tennis player by the name of Dominic Lothario im so sorry sir this was not written with you in mind ALSO this is my VERY sneaky way of telling everyone my favorite song is trophäe by paula carolina so naturally i had to shove the word trophy everywhere to justify using lyrics as the title I HOPE I DID YOUR PROMPT JUSTICE also i skipped over singapore because we don't talk about singapore
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liked by ynln7, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 2,104,962 others
maxverstappen1 The only time I've cheated.
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feeltheorange WHAT DID HE SAYYYY
meepshoemaker the double take i just did cracked my neck
yukinator22 NAHHHHHHHHH
albogeant BRO DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER TIME TO RECOVER LMAOOOOOOOO
ynln7 everyone has permission to laugh i came up with the caption
pierregasly Thank god charles_leclerc I'm going to hell I laughed before I saw your comment pierregasly Me too ynln7 assholes (affectionately)
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liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 4,592,577 others
ynln7 anyway
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christianhorner This is not the team bonding I was talking about
charles_leclerc Shut up, some of us have waited years for this pierregasly Seconded danielricciardo Third...ed?
simplyclerc LET HIM COOK
lionkingseb max verstapprizz
mcmango he saw an opportunity and he took it
redbullpapaya i manifested this with magic beyond the human comprehension
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liked by maxverstappen1, ynln7, christianhorner and 2,102,094 others
redbullracing An immaculate performance today from @ maxvestappen1 and @ ynln7 that’s a 6th Constructors’ Championship for the team!! 🏆 CONGRATULATIONS, WORLD CHAMPIONS!!
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super_max they know they ate
staraikkonen the blueprint for all powercouples
shadownorris LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO
angelricciardo talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference
dominic_lothario 👎
redbullracing Shouldn't you be looking for a job? What are you doing in our comments.
kirbyvettel MAXY/N SWEEP
maxverstappen1 The trophy is not my only win this week @ ynln7
ynln7 ok now let me pass you maxverstappen1 No 🧡 You're pretty in p2
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 693,420 others
ynln7 celebrating the win the RIGHT way (playing f1 2023)
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easportsf1 Amen
ynln7 LMAO
maxverstappen1 I let you win
ynln7 bruised ego alert
christianhorner Such a RESPONSIBLE team, aren't we?
orangleclerc THE T-SHIRT
strawberryrosberg Did they turn down the afterparty invite for this because mad respect
charles_leclerc Tell me your record, I'll beat it
ynln7 in your dreams, leclerc maxverstappen1 Beat us in real life first charles_leclerc First of all.
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
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ovaryacted · 6 months
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Rookie Mistakes
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Pairing: RE2!Leon x Sergeant fem!Reader
Summary: When Leon seems distracted and makes a mistake during a call, you ensure your rookie gets his head together as his sergeant.
Content/Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements. Femdom/msub. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Needy/subby Leon. Oral sex. Fingering. Handjob. Office Sex. Slight age gap (reader is older at around 25, Leon is 21).
WC: 4.7k
Notes: Finally this is out. I know I know, I'm a liar! But, I had fun with this one, so I hope you like it. Shoutout to the babe @cinnarette for beta reading this and giving me her approval lolz. Anyways, reblogs & comments are always appreciated!
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Leon had always been one to find the good in a shitty situation. Someone with a warm heart that matched the moral compass he developed despite the constant bullshit he experienced daily.
From his hectic childhood to his experiences in the police academy, he had to overcome many trials and tribulations on his own with nobody in his corner. All of those struggles to get the pure sense of relief once he felt his diploma in his hand made all the stress worth it.
When he first arrived at the R.P.D., he didn’t know what to expect. The anxiety of starting fresh in a new city with a new career clouded his mind with a paranoia he seemed to carry in his youth. Walking into the police department he’d call his new home, Leon was fairly surprised to be greeted with a welcome party.
Balloons and confetti filled the common room as he moved around the crowd, bombarded with introductions and greetings as he tried to memorize the names that were thrown his way. Still, the small games and blue cake he indulged in brought a smile to his face, topped off with the polka-dotted party hat he was forced to wear and the words Welcome Leon hung up on the ceiling for him to see.
What Leon didn’t expect was to be assigned to your personal detail the next day. A police sergeant on the force, a bit older, no more than 25 he first assumed, more refined and seasoned with one hell of a glare. First impressions? He was terrified, nervous as hell to fuck anything up seeing how you ran a tight ship, taking your job too seriously for comfort. Of course, you had to. You were working in a male-dominated field, forcing yourself into a mold so you could be taken seriously by those around you.
He took his hand out when being introduced to you, unstable grip and a nervous smile to match as he looked directly into your intimidating gaze. You shook his hand firmly, the strength of your grasp parallel with the small grin you offered him almost made a shiver roll down his spine.
“So you’re the new rookie huh? Well, it’s nice to see a fresh face in here. We have some serious work to do. Let’s get started.”
-
You were particular about how you wanted things done, very precise in your words and your delivery. A harsh leader, one who easily reprimanded the other rookie officers but was particularly picky with Leon. In a way, he started to feel like you were targeting him, pressuring him so he would crack and leave the force. He knew he couldn’t leave, that this was the career path he chose, and he was too anxious to say anything so he’d let it slide.
You didn’t let up on his training either, always making sure your rookie was on top of what was expected of him. The slight fear Leon had when first meeting you quickly turned into admiration. His stress-induced feelings morphed into respect, now wanting to learn everything you had to show him.
That was when it started. Leon now tried any little thing to get in your good graces, to see even the slightest sign of a smile or to hear you laugh. He started coming to work earlier to help with the case filings you had piled on your desk, organizing them the way you taught him whenever you assigned him grunt work. He wanted you to take a breather and start your day with a clear head, maybe even enjoy your coffee for a bit longer.
When you saw how tidy your work environment was, you went up to Leon who you saw was typing away at his desk diligently. His head lifted up to look at you, blue eyes glancing over your face to read your expression.
“Morning. By any chance, did you fix all the files on my desk?”, you asked curiously, making the blonde rub the back of his neck shyly.
“Yeah, I did. Wanted to help you out a bit and give you an early start to the day” he responded, silently hoping you wouldn’t be upset at him for entering your workspace. Instead, he was met with your look of genuine surprise, followed by a twinkle of gratitude.
“Thank you for that, I appreciate it. Keep up the good work Leon”, you praised him, offering a small smile, one that he made sure to burn into his memory.
“Yes ma’am”, his face was practically beaming at your words as he watched you walk back towards your office, trying to hide the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks.
Your words kept repeating in his head nonstop throughout the entire day. Not only did you acknowledge him in a positive light, you also addressed him by name, which was rare. He was more present at work, his posture straighter, and more eager to help. From that point on, he made it his mission to make sure his sergeant was stress-free, doing anything to see you smile at him again.
Working with Leon, you quickly learned that he was perceptive. A smart cookie, and probably the smartest one out of the current bunch of recruits. Despite the tough love you gave him, especially because he was your professional responsibility, he was the only one truly receptive to your teachings. Like a sponge, he took in everything you gave with a certain wonder you hadn’t seen in anyone else. It was cute really, how he was so ambitious and doing his best to get your approval.
What you liked the most about working with Leon was how he addressed you. He took your authority seriously, seeing someone in charge instead of your appearance. He didn’t say your name, not your first or last out of respect, but rather he always addressed you as Ma’am. You never had someone say that to you directly, thinking it makes you sound older than you actually are. But with the way his eyes warmed up when he’d say it with full confidence, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop.
-
Over the next few weeks, Leon became part of your daily routine, integral to the start of your day. He’d walk in a few minutes early as expected, with two coffee cups in his hands as he waited for you outside your office. Spotting the top of your head coming from speaking to the chief, you were heading his way. You had the same soft smile reserved just for him, one that he always looked forward to seeing when you worked together.
“Got you your usual”, he offered one of the cups to you, your fingers lightly grazing his when taking the warm concoction into your hand.
“Extra caramel?”
“With oat milk, vanilla and cinnamon. I triple checked”, he said enthusiastically, observing you as you sipped the drink. A soft hum escaped you while you closed your eyes in satisfaction.
“You know how to spoil me”, you gave him a wider smile now, seeing how his cheeks blushed the slightest bit at your expression. His reaction made you chuckle, a sound he’s come to enjoy the more time you two spent together. 
“Now come on, we need to work on this case before we patrol at 12. The chief’s on my ass again so let’s get this over with before lunch yeah?”, and without fail, he’d give you the same ending response every time.
“Yes ma’am”
The more you invested in Leon’s skills, the more you realized small things about him that were fairly telling. You weren’t stupid. Anyone with a brain could see that the respect and admiration he had for you was turning into something else entirely. You could tell with every passing moment you had with him, noticing how the tension between the two of you would get thicker after every interaction. You didn’t comment on it. Instead, you enjoyed toying with him, a part of your ego feeding off on how he’d say yes ma’am in such a way that would make you want to hear it more often.
The faint touches between the two of you got more frequent. Your fingers would brush his during the exchange of files, you saw how he’d always be within a hair’s distance when standing near you. Moments spent training in the shooting range were where the intimacy seemed to skyrocket, putting your hands on Leon’s arms to keep his form up as he shot towards his target.
You didn’t need to do that. Leon was a good shot, accurate too. But you enjoyed the way he released a shaky breath whenever you were close to him or touched him, how the tips of his ears reddened when you praised him for hitting the bullseye.
In one certain instance when the R.P.D. was extra busy, you were being hammered with files and administrative work. The coffee sitting on your desk was no longer doing its job of waking you up, and the constant bombardment of having to organize new information was starting to make your head pulse. You stood up from your seat to give your back a break, bending backward until you felt a satisfying crack in your spine. Hearing a knock at your door that brought your attention, you noticed Leon on the opposite end.
“Hey, my bad if I caught you at a bad time. The investigators wanted to review those files on that drug bust we did yesterday, something about missing information”
“Oh yeah yeah, it’s right behind me. Hell, I don’t even know where I put it”, you turned to face the mess behind you, lamenting at the stack of files you have yet to sort through today.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll look for it. You stay focused on what you’re doing”
Just like that, Leon came over behind you, going through the files while you stayed reading over the papers in your hand. The both of you made quick conversation, commenting on how busy it became. The increase of instances flooding the department only added more to your workload. Leon kept digging through the pile, turning his body to go to the other side of you.
In the process, he put a hand on your hip and muttered an apology, slightly making you jump and walking behind you to go to your left side. You tried to pay no mind to the gentle touch, going back to refocusing on the case at hand. He found the document folders he needed, suddenly too close to your body when the second he turned, you moved backward into him. Leon’s hips pressed against your rear, his hands reaching toward your hips instinctively despite the hitch in his breath at the contact.
“S-shit, I’m sorry…”, he mumbled, cheeks flushed red as he walked out of your office. You didn’t get a word in, but his reaction was enough to tell you about what you already knew.
The ghost of his touch filled your mind for the rest of the day, and it was worse for Leon. He tried so hard not to think about it. Not to fantasize about how your hips would feel bouncing against his with force, what you’d sound like when you’re aroused. It was practically impossible for him. His imagination went haywire the second he got home, jerking himself off to relieve the hard-on he’s been managing since earlier this afternoon.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head. He thought about how you’d praise him, call him a good boy for making you feel good. Deep down, he wondered if you were equally as authoritative in the bedroom as you were outside of it. As he released all over his hands with a whine, he sighed to himself, fully aware that he had reached the point of no return with his own thoughts about you. 
-
It was a Tuesday afternoon when both of you were assigned to handle two suspects committing a robbery. Called to the scene, you trailed them down to a nearby commercial street. They were careless too, throwing their guns halfway into the chase and the items they stole slipping from their grasp onto the concrete floor. Catching them felt easy, handcuffing one to the ground and throwing him to the backseat of your cop car. Leon seemed to be distracted, with what you didn’t know. When the second thief seemed to slip from his grasp and started to make a run for it, you knew he needed to get his act together.
“Get your head out of your ass Kennedy! Before I put my foot up there instead. Now move!”, you ordered him to get back into the patrol car. Turning on the police siren, you drove to track down the next suspect and apprehended them with quickness.
The drive to the station was quiet besides the two handcuffed men grumbling behind you. Leon kept his mouth shut, refusing to look your way, and focused on listening to the chatter on the radio. He knew you were pissed, and he didn’t know what had gotten into him today but he couldn’t focus for the life of him. The nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him to be prepared for the worst, because he fucked up, and worse yet, he fucked up with you.
After bringing the two robbers down to the precinct, you couldn’t erase the irritation from your face. You couldn’t even look at Leon, upset that someone like him after so much training made such a rookie mistake. You only offered a glare, knowing for a fact you’d have to talk to him later on when your temper wasn’t so flared up. For now, you made Leon sit at his desk to do filing work, deciding not to berate him in front of the other officers and saving him the embarrassment.
Knowing you were giving him the silent treatment, he avoided you for the rest of the day, staying late at the R.P.D. in hopes of being able to talk to you. Leon drummed his fingers on his desk absentmindedly, until you came up behind him and got his attention.
“Kennedy, to my office. Now”, your tone of voice was harsh, making the hairs on Leon’s neck rise as he got up to follow you back to your workspace.
You locked the door once the both of you were inside, leaning back against your desk with your tactical belt off so your hips pressed against the wooden edge. Arms crossed over your chest, your head raised at the cop before you, watching his feet anxiously moving as he looked at the floor with slight shame.
“I want to know what happened out there. You messed up, and that’s not like you. You don’t make rookie mistakes anymore, we’re passed that”, you started to speak. Leon’s gaze was pinned on you, trying to hide his humiliation but it was clear as day.
“I know. I know I fucked up, it was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry”
“Yeah, it was. I didn’t invest all this time in training you personally for you to let things like this slip. You’re better than this, you know that”, your tone changed from irritation to concern, trying to get him to see the bigger picture.
“You’re my responsibility, Leon. I’m this harsh and this strict for a reason, and it’s because I care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to you, but I do. This reflects back on me, so just get your head together alright?”, you saw how his brows furrowed a bit in slight confusion at your confession.
You cared about him.
“Yes ma'am. It won’t happen again, I really am sorry”, his hands started to fumble with his tactical belt.
“I know you are, but sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t have you distracted like this. Not on my watch”, you said, now walking from the desk until you stood in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what else to do besides stand there.
“If you’re really sorry you’re going to have to prove it. You’re not getting off that easy. You got that rookie?”, your eyes held that intimidating stare that made Leon tense, you could practically hear him gulp. 
“I-I understand ma’am. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”, he was still oblivious, having no idea what he just got himself into but he wasn’t complaining, not when you were this close to him. Your hand went up towards his belt, a singular finger curving into one of the loops to yank his body forward. Now standing chest to chest he shivered at the close contact, holding his breath and waiting for your next words.
“You’re gonna use your pretty mouth to prove that you won’t mess up like that again. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll think about being nice and rewarding you. That okay?”, your words were laced with pure temptation, making Leon nod, too scared to speak up. He didn’t know what to expect, but lord if he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it. 
“Use your words baby”
“Yeah, f-fuck it’s okay”, he was shaking in front of you, a blush on his cheeks so intense you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.
“Can I kiss you?”, you tilted your head up towards him, his warm breath against your lips as the ends of your noses touched.
“Please do…”
You didn’t waste another second, lips colliding against his as Leon finally released the breath he was holding. He let you take control, his mind turning to complete mush at just the feel of your mouth against his. Tongues dancing together, you ran your fingers through his hair, his own hands going to paw at your hips. He released needy faint moans, holding on to you as if you were going to leave him any second now. When you pulled away from him and bit his bottom lip he whimpered, a sound you didn’t expect him to make. You fucking loved it.
You walked backward while he followed you on jittery legs. With your back now pressed against the desk again, Leon’s face dug into your neck, leaving a path of kisses in a way that made you chuckle. His hands were everywhere, overwhelmed with what to do or where to touch. You brought your fingers into his hair again, giving him a soft yank as he groaned out from the action. Pupils already dilated, you eyed him closely, how he seemed so far gone when you haven’t even started.
“You want to be good for me Leon?”, your voice was soft, almost patronizing and it only made Leon’s dick pulse in his pants.
“Yes, I wanna be good for you. Don’t want you mad at me”, Leon pouted, and you fought the urge to kiss him again.
“Then get on your knees and start working on your apology”, you commanded, watching how he bit his lip and nodded.
“Yes ma’am”, he was already shifting down to the ground, diligent fingers on the button of your cargos and undoing them, while you threw your shoes off.
Pulling the zipper down, he started to drag the fabric to your knees until it hit your ankles, pants discarded to the side and leaving you in your panties. Sitting on top of the desk, his eyes looked up at yours, coming face to face with where you wanted him most.
His large hands moved from your shin to your knee, then towards your thigh and hip to hook his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, noting the wet patch that was already staining the cotton material. He dragged them down with ease until they hung at your ankle, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulders to admire all of you with a soft moan.
“Can I taste you? Please?”, he mumbled against your thigh with a soft kiss. He was already playing the part so well, offering him a smirk as you drank in the way he begged you for more. You didn’t even have you train him.
“Yeah baby, you can”
Without hesitation, his mouth made contact with your body, the taste of your wetness filling his tongue and making his chest rumble. It was better than he imagined, moving his tongue up and down against your slit to collect the developing slick. You released a low hum from your lips, already pent up from the stress of your job and your day, now having your favorite rookie tending to you on your orders.
Leon was anything if not keen, tongue lavishing against your throbbing clit and his lips circling around it as he began to suck. You threw your head back at that, hand holding his head in place and hips moving towards him shamelessly. He was grunting under his breath, growing obsessed with the way your body twitched anytime he touched you just right. 
“You’re doing so good Leon, so damn good for me”, you praised him again, feeling the sounds he’d release when you did talk to him. It was debauched, how his senses were filled with just you with no end in sight.
This was how you wanted to see him. On his knees and eager to please.
His attention went back to your opening, feeling it flex around nothing with every flick he gave you. Inserting his tongue into your cunt, your hips arched towards him again, moaning louder than you anticipated.
You were silently thankful your office was a bit farther away from the rest of the department, and being it was later at night, you didn’t have to hide much of anything. You moved Leon’s face closer to your body with a pull of his head, clit pressed against his nose as he sucked at your essence greedily, taking in everything he could get. 
A warmth started to develop in your gut, pleasure like liquid fire making your body twitch. The high you so desperately craved was in near sight, grinding yourself against Leon’s face and using him to get off. He didn’t object, moving his mouth to suck at your clit again, two fingers teasing your entrance before inserting them inside. You cursed under your breath, the dual sensation of Leon’s fingers curling against your g-spot and his consistent sucking brought you closer to your much-needed climax.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”, you could almost taste your release right at the edge of your tongue, could imagine the way it would feel to finally let go.
You looked down to watch Leon at work, how he’d pump his fingers at just the right pace, how his eyes grew hazy with pleasure when they looked up at you.
With one soft nip at your clit your release hit you full force, a small squeal leaving your lips as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers. Your grip on the desk and his hair were both tight, knuckles turned white as stars filled your vision. Leon kept moving his fingers and mouth the whole way through your orgasm, groaning loudly against you and refusing to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you or your taste, forcing you to pull his head away before the overstimulation made it too much to handle.
The both of you were panting, eyes widening when Leon pulled his digits away and inserted them into his mouth to lick off what remained of you. You pulled him up towards his feet, dragging him down to kiss you again and chasing your own taste that flooded his tongue. If you weren’t on a time crunch, you would’ve gladly let him go down on you again.
“Did I do good ma'am? Do you feel good?”, Leon asked, thumbs rubbing your trembling thighs as you came down from your high, flushed face waiting for your approval.
“Yes, you were so fucking good for me. You ate my pussy so well”, your words made him smile then, a dopey lopsided grin that seemed to ease his doubts from earlier.
“I think you deserve a little reward now. You want some help with that pretty boy?”, your eyes gestured to the tent in Leon’s pants, looking up at him from your long lashes.
“God, please touch me”, he begged then, blue eyes engulfed in pure lust.
You didn’t want to tease him any longer, undoing his pants and slipping your hand inside. With a gasp he felt your fingers wrapping around his cock that pulsated with need, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to cum either. He had been on the edge for too long, imagining you like this for what seemed like months. You pumped him, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb against his slit, feeling the precum that was already making a mess in his briefs. 
“You get hard when you have your superior’s pussy in your face huh? You like being used like that baby?”
“Y-yes, yes I do. God I fucking love it”, he nodded dumbly. “Love the way you taste, the way you feel…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, mind so blurred with just you that he was losing track of time and himself.
You smirked, kissing his neck and pressing your lips against the mole on his throat. Leon swallowed, hands pressing into your thighs for stability but he was so close to losing it. He thrusts his hips up into your hand, chasing his own high and you gladly let him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and biting at the lobe. The sounds Leon released were downright pornographic, whines and lewd wet sounds filling your office. 
“S-shit I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please ma'am, I’m so close”, he begged again, his cock throbbing and hot in your hand as he spoke. He bucked his hips more into your squeezing fingers, your pace picking up as you jerked him off more persistently. He felt like he could barely breathe, the prickly feeling in his lower spine getting more prominent the closer he got to his orgasm.
“Be a good boy and cum for me Leon. I want to see you cum baby”, it was your final order, and those words alone were his undoing.
His body shook above you when he fell over the edge, his lower stomach flexing hard as he came all over your fingers. He cursed and whimpered, an array of thank yous were said against your neck, hands pressed into your thighs hard enough to bruise your skin. His cum dribbled out of him as his body jerked, still pumping him to the point of sensitivity. He clutched your wrist to signal you to stop, half-lidded eyes looking at yours that filled with mischief.
You took your hand off of him and licked the remaining fluids, purring at the taste of him filling your mouth. Leon bit his lip when watching you, already starting to feel his dick twitch again for more.
He leaned down towards you, kissing you hard and chasing his taste, just like how you did with him. The eroticness of it all overwhelmed him, rasping against you as you pulled away. You looked over his face, cheeks flushed pink and lips plump from their usage. You burn that image into your mind, saving it for later when it would be more helpful. 
“No more distractions or mistakes from here on out Leon. You come to me if you need to clear your head. Understood?”, he released a dry chuckle, placing another kiss against your lips, much softer than before. The intimacy made your chest warm, your smile matching his own.
“Yes ma’am”
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©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!
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malibusmoke · 4 months
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Hihi can I get QRSV for Zoro? Male reader pls <3
ZORO! NSFW ALPHABET
LETTERS: Q, R, S, V
PAIRING: Roronoa Zoro x AMAB! Gn! Reader
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!
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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
To be honest, Zoro doesn't have much of a preference, but does prefer the two of you to be able to take things at your own leisure. Unfortunately living on a ship with several other people leaves relatively little room for privacy...
That being said, if it's a "we have five minutes but we're both horny" situation, Zoro is taking it- it doesn't matter if it's up against an alley wall with his hand clamped over your mouth, you taking him pressed against the steamed-up shower wall while you clean after a sparring match, or the two of you sneaking off to a hull storeroom before docking.
Even during quickies Zoro makes sure he takes his time with you, running his calloused hands over your muscles, pulling you down into hot and frantic kisses and rolling his hips in just the right way to get your eyes rolling back and your cock twitching. 
Quickie or not, by the end of it, one, or more commonly both of you is left up a thouroughly fucked out, panting mess
more under cut! ->
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
There are few times when Zoro'll actively approach you with things to try out, he’s rather vanilla in that respect, but he’s still game to experiment with pretty much anything you suggest.
You want to tie him up? Sure. You want to edge him until his tough exterior cracks and he whimpers and begs for you? Why not. You want to switch things up and have him dom the fuck out of you? No problem.
Zoro naturally takes risks, and that applies to his sex life, but it does bring out the competetive streak in him, “Let’s see if you can keep those moans to yourself without anyone outside catching us,” will progress until he has you writhing under his touch with tears of pleasure in your eyes, seeing just how much you can take.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It’s a flip of a coin with Zoro. While he does have amazing stamina, he also has a knack for getting incredibly sleepy after he’s come.
You can expect either: as many sessions as you want, lasting for as long as you want, or a single mind-numbing orgasm before he's yawning and cuddling up on your chest for a nap (even if his/your cock is still inside)
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Zoro tries to keep some semblance of control at all times, starting off with a few contained grunts or murmuring soft praise into your ear. But the closer he gets to his release, the harder it is for him to control himself, and little moans begin to slip out of him.
If you’re in control Zoro is far more vocal. His normal grunts will turn into muffled whimpers and breathy moans and pleas. Playing with his chest or teasing him will have him biting his lip and trying to hide the flush that covers his cheeks. Fist your hand in his hair and tug it back to nip at his throat- he’ll whine your name.
On the ship Zoro isn't that loud, he doesn't like the idea of anyone being able to hear him, or you for that matter. He generally manages to control his volume, and will either kiss you or shove his fingers in your mouth if you're getting a little too... excited
Zoro is at his loudest right after he cums. Right before his hips have stilled and he's spilling his cum deep inside you/over your hand, he's tensed and dead silent, hips twitching and cock throbbing- but following that he let's out the longest, hottest moan right into your ear to let you know how good you make him feel.
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cosmerelists · 9 months
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What Your Preferred Kaladin Ship Says About You
[Minor spoilers for Stormlight]
Can the ships you like and/or write fanfiction for and/or read fanfiction for reveal something about you? Let’s say the answer is yes--what might your preferred Kaladin ship(s) say about you? 
1. Kaladin x Shallan
That scene in the chasms really got to you. You want to see two broken people raise each other up, preferably with a good helping of snark. Either that, or your love language is boot-stealing.
2. Kaladin x Adolin
You like a good rivals-to-lovers relationship, and you have a slight humiliation kink--it’s why you find yourself reading “bridgeboy” as romantic. 
3. Kaladin x Adolin x Shallan
Unlike Brandon Sanderson, you are no coward. 
4. Kaladin x Moash
You enjoy suffering. 
Or perhaps you just wish Sanderson hadn’t dropped the whole “the Alethi social system needs to burn” angle and still had Kaladin fighting against the system alongside Moash.
Which is to say--you enjoy suffering.
5. Kaladin x Lezian
You also enjoy suffering. The suffering of the characters, that is.
6. Kaladin x Lyn
Your ship was canon, but oh how briefly. I have to assume you write/read fix-it fanfic. 
7. Kaladin x Lewshi
You love a good, respectful, enemies to lovers slowburn. You say things like, “It’s about the yearning.” 
8. Kaladin x Renarin
I think you are probably a sweet person who wants only the best for your ships. You may have done a lot of research into epilepsy and how a fantasy doctor would talk about it.
10. Kaladin x Elhokar
I assume you are the type of person who says things like, “I want to put this man into a mason jar and shake him vigorously.”
11. Kaladin x Szeth
You probably have high hopes for the Shinover field trip. 
12. Kaladin x Rlain
You’d like to see these men explore their emotions...and presumably each other’s bodies.
13. Kaladin x Jasnah
You said “ace rights” and meant it with your whole chest.
14. Kaladin x Dalinar
You wish that a big strong man would look you in the eye and say in his deep, manly voice, “Your job is bad for your mental health. Quit right now. That is not a suggestion.”
15. Kaladin x Sleep
You just want to wrap Kaladin in a warm blanket until he feels better. 
That is to say, you love crack ships. 
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nc-vb · 7 months
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𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝
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it is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. instead, it only proves to make the water levels rise a few millimeters.
pairing -> neuvillette x gn!reader
warnings -> sfw, sad neuvi & reader, smooching
notes -> reader's position is a non-canon one
character mentions -> lady furina, fontaine npcs, non-canon melusine characters
wc -> 2.1k
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It wasn’t so often that the paths of you and your lover could so seamlessly cross.
As one might assume, governing a nation is not a walk in the park, nor is it a part-time position. It is a twenty-four-seven, midnight-to-midnight, no-matter-how-small-the-crisis job that someone has to take responsibility for— with Monsieur Neuvillette, the Chief Justice, leading the charge of each court proceeding and Lady Furina as its grandest witness, and you, the Maison Ordalie's Directeur Général, helping them to uphold Fontaine’s values and protecting its honour from outside the marbled walls of the Opera Epiclese, Fontaine is a tightly-run ship that seldom allows for its men to enjoy much free time.
Though when it did, finally exiting the realm of your job responsibilities only then meant having to catch up on your neglected home responsibilities— tackling the towers of only partially rinsed dishes; taking out the trash you just knew would be stinking up your foyer since you’d put it there three days ago (which had been the last time you’d even been inside your home); rewashing the load of laundry you’d run out of time to hang up to dry and now was, most likely, moulding from being left in basket, still damp. Ah, and there’s probably so much more you’d been forgetting about.
This cyclic routine of yours had become nauseating a long time ago, only proving capable of transfiguring your already sour mood into something brazenly foul. Typically, there were very few things to exist that could improve it again, but the soft, muffled knocking on your front door by one of your sweet Melusine neighbours when she realized you’d finally returned home, fortunately, is one of those few things.
More often than not, she would bake once the weekend began, knowing you to be around at least long enough to be able to consume perhaps one of her newly learned confections. Somedays, you’d even been lucky enough to sit and enjoy them together whilst enjoying the views from under your shared garden’s gazebo. Being that you lived on the first floor of a three-floored pied-à-terre with three other Melusine living above you, who had also been found lucky to have much more manageable lifestyles, they often cared for the plants of the garden when you could not.
Even luckier for you, though, was having such kind neighbours that would go out of their way to take care of those aforementioned chores for you. Garden tended; garbage bags mysteriously vanished from the inside stoop; dishes sparkling clean and put away in their respective cupboards; laundry thought a lost cause having been hung up, dried, and folded, awaiting your return for them to be returned to their drawers— none of this had been you. Elsie, your second floor neighbour, had been the culprit, you learn, having rounded up her sisters Elie and Eloie two days prior to your return to surprise you.
“Have you seen Monsieur Neuvillette lately?” Elsie inquires, looking up to you from her place on your stoop. When you step aside to let her in, she shakes her head, lavender-coloured ears whipping about. “I won’t be staying. I only came to say hello and to give these to you.”
“Oh, I see,” you say, accepting the circular tin she raises toward you. Cracking it open a few inches, you smile at the soft treats. “Madeleines! Thank you, Elzie. And, to answer your question, no… I haven’t seen him lately… not even for work.”
“You’re quite welcome. Please find time to share them with the Monsieur today, then. Sedene mentioned he looked restless this morning.”
Without missing a beat, your heart skips one of its own, and your expression twists habitually guiltily. You know full well your absence from him, and vice versa, isn’t to be helped, and that the two of you have had this same conversation many times over. But it never proves to help whenever someone else points out either of your miseries.
You’d always thought the Palais Mermonia to be particularly cold, in company’s sense. It never mattered that it was always full of people, of employees, and even of Lady Furina’s raucous, nails-on-a-chalkboard cackle of a laugh, because you knew its Chief Justice much too well. In spite of his assurances that he would be alright, mind occupied by having to organize new cases and sort out the old ones, it wouldn’t be too long of a time later that you found the skies overcast, and yourself drenched by a sudden downpour.
You supposed, after saying your farewells to Elsie, locking your front door, and making your way to the other end of the Court of Fontaine, that today would be no different. Of course, you remembered to carry your parasol on you this time, accompanied by the tin of fresh-baked madeleines you promised Elsie to eat up. Today, the sky was shining blue, quite literally only minutes ago. So, either something sad or distressing has crossed his path, or, he’d been feeling sentimental again, because it’s raining again.
At the very least, you hope the cause for it to be the latter. This way, it can easily be remedied by you appearing before him, rather than him being consumed by the details of a case so heavily, and for an unspecified period of time. And there have been too many of these as of late that compared to last year’s weather, one might consider the possibility of that prophecy coming true just a little sooner.
Clutching the cookies tighter to you and keeping a firm grip on the handle of your parasol, you hasten across the bridge of the Court Region Waterway untoward the Palais Mermonia, greeting Bruneau and Liath and Plessia as you pass. The main doors are heavy, but even with your arms full, you manage to pry one of them open enough to enter the building.
You don’t both to carry your umbrella with you — it would just be yet another mess the building’s staff would have to trail after you for to clean — and instead shove it into the corner to let it drip there, telling the one guard that you would return for it, and them saluting you in acknowledgement.
Inside the Palais Mermonia has always been a plethora of people, staff and guards and visitors alike, but it is as you’d said— there’s a certain degree of emptiness to it that unsettles you whenever you visit here. Perhaps the grave amount of case files that sat in the archives surrounding Monsieur Neuvillette’s office cast such a dreary spell over the place; having been the one to compile many of them, yourself, for his records, you know firsthand just how dark some of their contents had been— to have to pass those off and share them with your lover had been your major grievance for your position. There’d been nothing you hated more than sitting in during his readings and seeing his expression change from the joy of having you appear to him, to the rage and sorrow of taking in the details of a new case. In those moments, you made sure to hold him a little tighter, a little closer, and speak just a little sweeter to him, a little softer.
The rain would, eventually, subside.
You push open the door to his office as gently as possible, and shut it just as carefully so as not to startle him. Without looking first to confirm, you know that he sits at his desk, pouring over the day’s files and records while it pours outside. His stoicism masked the obvious, though at least, this had been to you only— something was weighing heavily enough on his mind that it’d begun to affect the weather outside. Spending enough time with the man made this easy to tell.
“Neuvillette,” you softly call to him when he’d yet to look up. He jerks slightly in his seat, stiff shoulders losing their tension upon recognizing your voice, and the corner of his lips rise before his eyes can even meet yours.
“My love.”
If having you appear in a room filled with such disheartening unkindness is his relief, yours had always been the advent of a smile on Neuvillette’s face. A rare glimpse of the peace you often find yourself daydreaming over while away, the rush of pure joy you feel at the sight of your lover relishing your presence is nearly akin to the blessing of the gods— you only embrace him tightly enough and hope this feeling reaches him.
Nose pressed into the side of your head, hands and arms cradling you almost impossibly close to him, he breathes you in as deeply as physically possible— yes, his gesture promises.
You raise your chin from his chest and peer up at him, grin lazed and tired but pleased all the same.
“You were finally released from your duties?”
“If it were easy to delegate them to my juniors, it might’ve taken less time to escape,” you muse, hands sliding down his robes to claim his hands in yours— he squeezes them gently, grateful. “No one seems to know how to write a proper report anymore; I feel like I’m grading homework.” Neuvillette laments at the sudden shift in your expression, its complete opposite serving to dim the light in your eyes. By the way your grip tightens beneath his fingers, he supposes it must have little to do with your subordinates, after all.
“It’s… been raining for so long now,” you mumble into him, cookie tin forgotten atop his desk. “I tried to hurry to you, I-I…”
Neuvillette’s hand shifts along one of yours, quick to fit thin, nimble fingers in between your trembling ones. He lifts it, and presses your palm and fingertips into the smooth, porcelain coolness of his cheek— few words are found necessary, you’d both once agreed, as he’d always been a man of sterling gestures over forced sentimentality. In each glance, each touch, each curve of his lips upward, his vehemence never went unnoticed; it’d simply been his brand of love— demure and chaste, but abundant. There’d been no questioning his intention.
“I would sooner give up my position if it meant I could stay at your side at all times, if it meant you wouldn’t cry so much. If it meant you wouldn’t suffer alone.” Neuvillette sighs, a would-be defeated sound if not for remembering who he was standing with. “I… feel useless on days like these when I’m not with you.”
“Justice cannot relent so long as villainy works around the clock. It is our sworn duty to see such justice prevail, after all.” Neuvillette swipes a thumb over your lip, and subconsciously, you lean into his palm almost delightedly. “And you have done so beautifully, and without malice. Every word written in those reports from your juniors, while, written juvenilely, speak of your fairness. Your impartiality. Your ability to see both the truth and the good in all.” He turns his hand, pressing his lips into your palm. “It is admirable. It is my pride for you. It is why, as much as I wish you could stay at my side, as you said, I hope you can see the value and honour you bring in helping to protect Fontaine. I can’t imagine many else doing so well as you do.”
You raise your free hand back up to his chest, and push. A fraction of a single second is spent wide-eyed and confused until Neuvillette’s legs hit one of the many couches within the four walls of his office, and he is forced off-balanced into its plush. Your other hand gone unrelinquished, you fall with him, knees parted to either side of his and dipped deep into the cushion; Neuvillette’s breath hitches unnoticeably, yet at your sudden embolden proximity, his pale cheeks burn with vermillion.
“I’m supposed to be comforting you, you know,” your murmur.
A kiss to his temple, to the swell atop his cheek, to the button of his nose, and to the cleft of his lip— you lower yourself into his lap, parted lips dropping to slot between his and hands rising to thread into his strands of falling starlight, pulling him ever closer into you. It’s not enough, simply consuming him. You only wish to drown his sorrows, by whatever means necessary and however possible. If this means only having mere moments to appear before him, to deliver him sweets and treats of various kinds — not including yourself, of course — and holding him as tenderly as you do now for what seconds you must have left before having to leave again—
Tongue posed at his lower lip, your gaze is brought to the side and through the glass of the window. The rain. It stopped.
“And I can promise… you’re doing a fine job of it, my love.”
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© nc-vb 2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.
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hammyballeceter · 5 months
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Ivar The Boneless
Different
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summary - You had been courting Hvitserk, when you’d caught him doing the unthinkable. That’s when Ivar stepped in.
You and Hvitserk had been together for a while, you were in a partner ship but there wasn’t an official label. You were his, and he was yours as far as you were concerned. People knew that, you weren’t quick to be married and you didn’t mind that.
You had definitely fallen for the man you’d known since you were a child having been friends with the young Prince since you were toddlers. He was kinder and more gentle then his peers, so how could you not? You knew of his reputation for bedding numerous amounts of women. He was happy if his belly was full and if there was a lady keeping his bed warm, for years that’s how it went. It hurt you to keep the way you felt under wraps. Until one day you had confessed to him, and lucky for you he had felt the same way.
Recently things hadn’t been going so well, you’d noticed his wondering eye but never thought much of it, well tried not to anyways. He loved you, you loved him. Small arguments started to break out every so often but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t sorted with a kiss. You had thought you were secure and happy. Trying to ignore the little cracks that were beginning to form between you and him.
You’d found yourself becoming friendly with his brother Ivar, finding that when you’d search for Hvitserk, he was out doing something. Ivar would usually be the one to tell you he was out, at first you were weary of the man. He was never particularly kind to you as a child, you’d originally tried to befriend the boy as he was your age, but it was Hvitserk who ultimately won your friendship and then love. But in Hvitserks recent absences you found yourself chatting to Ivar, he was kinder when he was by himself.
——————
“He’s not here y/n, he went out early again” you heard Ivar say as you pulled the door closed behind you, glad to be out the cold but annoyed at the fact it was now the 6th time Hvitserk hadn’t bothered to let you know he was out. You tried to not think anything of it, although an uneasy feeling nibbled away at your stomach. Not wanting to push the man, you always assumed he was with his other brothers. You still respected Hvitserk and his brothers, so if he told you he was out with his brothers then he was out with his brothers, you never pushed.
“Well, I’m bored so can I just stay with you for abit? It’s cold and I don’t want to walk through that snow again just yet.” Truthfully you wanted the company, you’d felt so lonely recently and Ivars company was not so bad. You shrugged your furs from your shoulders, placing them over a spare seat to dry from the snow.
“I’d like that, I’ve been alone all day. Your company seems to be the only one that doesn’t annoy me” his answer caused you to shoot a small smile at him. Taking a seat next to him on the floor, you ran your hand through the furs placed for him and now you to sit on, after shifting abit to get comfortable you finally let out a sigh that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in.
“I’m unsure as to why your allowing him to get away with this” Ivar questioned, allowing his eyes to wander over your form. He’d only ever been mean to try and fight the feelings he has for you, the day you tried to become his friend he remembers like it was yesterday, and he curses himself for ever being so awful to you. You could of been the one thing in his life he could hold onto. But he was afraid, afraid incase you’d reject him or make fun of him like so many others seemed to do. But you never did, and you never would.
Hvitserk was usually his favourite out of his brothers, but the way his older sibling had been making you feel recently bothered him. It wasn’t fair on someone who was so pure and genuine. Although he wanted the unwavering love you had for Hvitserk to be for him. He also, for once in his life, was putting your feelings before his own. He wanted to hold you, make that drained unsure look on your face disappear. He could tell that everything that was going on at the moment was bothering you more then you let on, but you were to polite to do anything about it, to worried to make someone upset. But you also didn’t want that nagging feeling to be true, to address it would mean you were either extremely wrong and possibly hurt Hvitserk or it was true and your heart would surely shatter.
“Ivar, I’m worried. I’m scared. Recently he’s had wondering eyes, for years he hadn’t even looked in the direction of another woman unless it was to speak to them. We’d always tell each other where we are going but mostly we wouldn’t have to because we’d already be together. We haven’t shared a bed in a while, and when he comes back from where ever he’s been going he’s been off with me, like he’s pretending. What am I doing wrong Ivar? I’ve known him since I was a child.” You felt awful for revealing everything to Ivar knowing the young man already had enough going on. Tears streamed your face, it was the first time you’d allowed yourself to cry. It was a foolish thing to do especially in front of a man such as Ivar. You didn’t want to seem weak.
Instead of speaking Ivar placed a gentle arm over your shoulder, cradling you as you cried. His heart-ached for you. But his anger, oh how his anger was boiling over toward his brother.
You both heard the door open, the familiar voices of Ubbe and Bjørn filled the room but Hvitserks was absent. This only caused more worry for you. They stepped into the room you and Ivar were sat in, noticing your obvious distress.
“Ubbe, Bjørn. Was Hvitserk with you today. Or any day recently for that matter?” Your heart speed up, if there answer was anything other then yes, you were ready to start your own war.
“Sorry y/n, me and Bjørn have been fishing recently. But Hvitserk hasn’t been joining us.” Ubbe had a sympathetic tone to his voice, but no amount of sympathy would stop the blood that was now pumping through your veins as you stood. Any upset you had felt was now turned to adrenaline and anger. It was the only thing that would give you the courage to walk over to Hvitserks home and confront him. You hadn’t intended to leave so abruptly hoping the brothers would understand your predicament.
Ivar watched the door slam behind you, his instant reaction was to pull himself up and grab his crutch and strapping his leg braces up as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t allow you to face this on your own if things went south. Despite the cold he set out after you.
You reached Hvitserks door, finally realising where you were. You hesitated, noticing the glow of candles. He was in. Your heart dropped, unsure of what you were going to walk in on. The gnawing feeling in your stomach now a full raging beast. That’s when you heard the soft dragging of feet behind you, you knew exactly who it was. Ivar.
“I’m here for you. y/n. You don’t have to face this alone.” You’d never been more glad to see his face, he brought a tiny bit of comfort. Which you hadn’t of expected. You nodded at him. Thankful for his presence.
With a shaky hesitant hand you pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. Your manners were put on hold for now. It was dark the flickering candles being the only source of light. But he was home, and your fears became reality. You saw her and him, on the bed you used to sleep in with him, where you and Hvitserk spend many a night making love or cuddling. And there he was now but with another woman. They hadn’t noticed you at first but you saw her naked back and heard his grunts.
Your gentle side had been tossed out the room as you pushed the rest of the front door so hard it caused it to crash into the wall beside it, whilst also nearly taking the large piece of wood off of its hinges. This caused the woman to jump from riding your partner, Hvitserk shooting up from his previous position to see the you. Your head whirled with 100 million things to scream at him, yet you didn’t say anything, you stood in the door way, chest heaving. Making sure to make eye contact with Hvitserk so he could see the fury that bubbled behind them.
With that you stormed off. You needed to be alone.
Ivar allowed you to go, understanding that you were angry and needed time alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t give his brother what for. Ivar was enraged. And Hvitserk would soon know all about it.
“YOU, OUT!” Ivar snarled at the naked woman, as she hurriedly gathered her clothes. “if y/ns ever in the same vicinity as you. You better not show your face. Infact do yourself a favor and never come back” he spat.
Turning his attention to his brother, his eyes narrowed at him. Hvitserk didn’t know where to look, he wanted to find you. But no amount of sorry would ever heal the heart he’d just broken. Instead he had to deal with Ivar.
“You disgust me brother. I’ve never known you to do such vile things” Ivar dragged himself further into the house.
“You are no man, you have a woman’s love and this is how you treat it. especially the love of a woman such as y/n” his voice thick with venom towards his brother. “I hope the gods cruse you and that sleaze” Ivar took his arm and swiped everything off of the table allowing it to break, crash and spill. “You are lucky she will not allow me to hurt you, her kindness still prevails even when she should nail your balls to your eyes!”
three months later———
The heartbreak was soul shattering, it took you nearly a month and half to even consider going out side. Yet Ivar visited you most days, even if you wanted your own space Ivar would sit quietly. Allowing you to know his presence was there if needed. Which you were glad for, he held you when you cried, listened when you needed to talk, and chatted when you needed a distraction. You two became close, becoming the best friends you were meant to be.
Hvitserk had tried multiple times to come see you but Ivar wouldn’t allow it. You needed to heal and he would help you do that. Hvitserk left many a gift at your door, it confused Ivar as to why it was now he was spoiling you, trying to give you the attention that you needed for the last part of your and his relationship now. He was two late. You wouldn’t ever go back to a cheat, Ivar helped you get to that frame of mind, as before you would of crumbled craving to feel the man you loved.
Ivar helped remind you that you were beautiful, although to Ivar you were more then beautiful, you were truly breathtaking. Learning some self love was important right now.
You and Ivar had decided to take a walk, nothing major. There was a feast going on in the great hall tonight so Ivar assured you that there wouldn’t be anyone around. So you wrapped yourselves up in furs and your cloaks and headed out.
It was quiet at first, you weren’t going far due to Ivar using his crutches but it was nice to be outside regardless. It was night and the stars had come out in full force, like the gods wanted to paint the sky especially for you and Ivar.
“Oh how wonderful, Ivar look at the sky! The gods has truly blessed us tonight!” You giggled, clasping your hands together softly. It was a joyous sound and one Ivar had missed dearly. You both took a seat on one of the tables that stood in the middle of Kattegat, and Ivar was finally able to look at the sky. He never cared much for such things but today was different if you wanted him to look at the stars then that is what he’d do, and you were correct, the sky was littered with stars and it was truly breathtaking.
“I need closure” you blurted out randomly, Ivar brought down his head to look at you.
“I need closure so I can move on. I want to know why. It’s been months since I’ve seen his face. And I thank you for helping me take the time to heal. But I want to start moving on. I want to be able to love someone else who’ll love me just as much.” Your looked at Ivar to gage a reaction, he smiled softly at you. His gaze relaxing when he met your eyes.
You and Ivar had decided that he would go to the great hall and get his brother. Rather then you having to walk into a place that would cause you a great distress, at least if you were outside and couldn’t handle it you could just walk away. You sat whislt Ivar went to find Hvitserk.
After about 15 minutes you saw the two men walking toward you, Hvitserk caught your eyes first. You’d expect to want to run away but you didn’t, you were quite happy just sitting there looking at the stars in the quiet. Although a little nervous, seeing Ivar behind him calmed your nerves tenfold.
Hvitserk remained stood whilst Ivar pulled himself up to be sat beside you, taking his fur off and wrapping around your shoulders although you already have your own on, you appreciated the kind gesture. Jealousy was written allover Hvitserks face, as he scowled at his brother.
“Well say something brother” Ivar bit, he rolled his eyes at the other man who remained silent, yet to even mutter a word.
“Ivar, it’s okay. I’ll speak.” You gently placed your hand on Ivars wrist giving it a squeeze. Hvisterk wanted nothing more then for his little brother to go away, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He hadn’t even been able to see you for three months. His brother forbid it. He’d been nothing but spiteful towards him, which he deserved.
Hvitserk looked at you, hopeful to still see some form of loving gaze toward him but there was none. And his heart sunk.
“Hvitserk, it’s been three long months since you betrayed me and betrayed our love. You shattered my heart into a million pieces. I do not understand if you were so unhappy with being my partner then why not just end things. I now have new worries & insecurities due to your actions, I doubt that I will ever be good enough for anyone anymore. If it hadn’t of been for your brother I don’t know where I’d be now. Probably still fawning after you making a fool out of myself. But, I shall not. You will forever hold a piece of my heart, that I will say. I loved you Hvitserk and a part of me always will. I’m unsure as to if you ever loved me as I could not possibly do the things that you have done to me. But all I ask is why?” Your voice remained a level tone. No hate was spat at the man. You couldn’t bring yourself to be so unkind.
Ivar was beyond proud of you, although he was full of anger toward his brother you remained calm, having seen how you screamed into your furs, how you threw things and how you cried behind the closedown door of your hut when it first happened, you had come so far. He could only wish to ever deal with things the way you had just done.
Hvitserk sucked in a breath, almost to stop his voice from wobbling. He had lost you, through his own foolish, greedy actions.
“Y/n my lov-“ he started but you cut him off, “you’ve no right to call me that anymore.” His eyes watered, but he held his composure the best he could infront of you and his brother.
“Y/n, I love you. My gods i love you. But I had been foolish. I had been tempted by a woman and slipped into my old ways, she persisted and I gave in. I have no excuse for doing what I did, and I shan’t makeup one. You deserve better then that. These past three months have been torment. I just wanted to hold you feel your warm flesh against mine again. I had known you were too good for me. I fear you hate me now. I can’t live without you at least speaking to me.” He spoke carefully, his voice timid as if he was getting told off. Ivar scoffed and you placed your hand once again on his arm to stop him.
“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate anyone. As I had said a piece of me will always hold onto you, and it will pain me. But I shall learn to live with it. I will speak to you if the situation permits it but I shan’t make an effort. I cannot hide away anymore. I am friends with Ivar and that won’t stop. Whether you like it or not. I hope you live a happy life. But please promise me, don’t hurt another woman like this. Make sure you love her and you love her hard. Never make her feel the way you have made me feel. Goodbye Hvitserk.” With that you hopped off of the table, and bowed your head. He was to you now a prince of Kattegat and you would respect him as such. But he wasn’t your Hvisterk anymore and you had started to finally come to terms with it.
Ivar followed you back to your hut, you were still so unbelievably grateful for him. So once you got back although late, you set about making the man a warm pie as to thank him for tonight. Ivar had perched himself on your bed as your hut was small and you could see the kitchen from where he was easily enough. He watched you carefully as you made the food and chatted away to him, his heart fluttered at you. He had fallen so unbelievably in love with you, but knew to keep it to him self whislt you went through what your going through, he knew deep down that you were meant to be his. He’d never felt this way about anyone. Your the only person that he would protect wholeheartedly, even against his own brother.
The small space was filled with the warm sent of your baked good, it was warm and cozy due to the fire burning away in the centre. Ivar could get used to this. He’d never known the true feeling of home, always feeling out of sorts around his brothers. But here, he was comfortable. He was warm and he could look at you all he wanted. He’d never understand why Hvitserk did what he did, and in someways he was glad.
He could finally get you to himself.
You grabbed two spoons once the pie had cooled off abit, bringing it to where Ivar sat wrapped in your bed furs. Intending it to be a nice late night treat and a thanks to Ivar.
“It smells delicious” Ivar smiled at you taking the warm pie into his hands so you could slip in next to him. “Why don’t we just use the same spoon, saves on dishes” he laughed, “Ivar I don’t mind washing it it’s just a spoon-“
“No if we share we will do it properly” he said as he scooped up some sweet filling and pastry, holding it up for you to take the first bite. A feeling was brewing as you looked at Ivar, but it was a different feeling, one you hadn’t experienced before. A warm feeling, no rampid butterfly’s. A safe, warm, glowing feeling toward Ivar. You’d soon find out. That it was love starting to form for the man, true love.
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highball66 · 4 months
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I'm going to need everyone to put on the tinfoil hands and strap in because what I'm about to say is going to sound a little unhinged, but here me out: I think at the beginning of Vendetta when Leon shoots the corpse in the morgue, the scene isn't actually what we think it is. In other words, I think Leon might be a bit of an unreliable narrator in this situation. Now, I know that's a lot, and I recognize that this is a bit of a crack theory, but it actually does make sense when you think about how the scene is presented. I also highly recommend reading this post first if you want more context for the morgue scene and what we know.
One day earlier, Leon was sent on a mission to Bethesda along with a team of other DSO operatives. Everything went to shit and there was a car bomb that caused a massive explosion, resulting in the deaths of everyone one of Leon's teammates. The only reason he survived was because he was the furthest from the blast. [This info comes from the novel.]
We jump from Leon realizing what happened to him walking through the morgue in slow motion. We can hear an eerie buzzing of the flickering lights, the echo of his boots against the floor, and creepy background music that picks up the more intense the scene gets. From an editing and cinematography standpoint, this is an interesting choice. In this film, slow-motion is used pretty much exclusively for "cool action moments" and freeze-frame shots of the characters in badass positions, similarly to how this specific part in the scene is shown.
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But the entire beginning of the scene is an exception. Leon doesn't blink the whole time we can see his face as he approaches the body bag laid on on the table. I think the extensive slow motion is used not only to build tension, but to give us a look at Leon's emotional state. He's not blinking, the world feels like its moving in slow motion, similar to how lots of anxiety can give the effect of "slowing down time" due to the effects of adrenaline.
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Additionally, the scene is very out of place when we look at the rest of the context. During the morgue scene in the novel, we are given 2 very important pieces of information: 1. cadavers in the morgue have "the tendency to stimulate his imagination" and 2. the teammates died due to the bomb (they weren't bitten, weren't injected with anything, etc.) So how the hell the cadavers reanimated is never explained, or even hinted at in neither the novel nor the movie.
The dormant form of the A-virus lives inside everyone after they consume the contaminated water, and is activated by the airborne trigger strain. So, in order for the teammates to have come back as zombies, they all would've had to have drank the contaminated water and been exposed to the airborne trigger virus prior to the explosion. But that doesn't really make sense-- Leon would've been zombified as well. The virus is also highly flammable, as shown in detail in the movie, so even if the virus was somehow activated right before the explosion, they wouldn't have been zombified anyway. (Plus, if you set something or someone on fire, you're killing any kind of virus or bacteria present anyway).
So, with all of that in mind, my proposed theory is that the scene doesn't actually happen the way it's presented to us. I think we might be seeing the way Leon sees things through the form of an PTSD-induced hallucination (which isn't really talked about much, but it is a thing). He walks into the morgue for whatever reason (likely to pay his respects before the bodies are shipped out since he feels guilty), sees the one body bag isn't fully zipped, and his mind starts to wonder. We don't see what happens after this, we don't get to see any other character interact with this world in this scene, so it's hard to distinguish what actually happened. So either the whole thing was a delusion and Leon sat there looking at the bag imaging the scenario with the zombie or he just uh... imagined it and shot the (still completely dead) corpse because he thought it'd come back.
We never get an explanation for any possibility regarding how the teammates were reanimated so... maybe that explanation doesn't exist because it didn't happen. After all, it was already mentioned in the novel that Leon experiences what I assume would be categorized as intrusive thoughts frequently when in the morgue looking at the cadavers, and it's shown later on in the novel that he sometimes struggles with differentiating between what he's thinking and what he's saying out loud. So I think it's more likely that he's experiencing a mental breakdown since just with what's shown in Vendetta alone, he checks all of the boxes for symptoms.
Is this theory a little wild? Yeah... but so is canon. And Leon imagining this makes a hell of a lot more sense than someone who was burned alive somehow coming back as a zombie.
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sparrowssally · 3 months
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*cracks knuckles* Yet another PSA about the Tennant and Sheen families…
Alright, here goes it. I don’t give a fuck if you ship Aziraphale and Crowley. I’m a huge shipper of them myself, so it’s all good! Love them, want the world for them, etc etc. HOWEVER, if you want to:
1. ship David and Michael romantically
2. want to use shipping David and Michael as an excuse to be blatantly misogynistic against their respective partners (Georgia and Anna)
3. want to allege that they are being “trapped” in their marriage by their partners “strategically” having kids
Then get the fuck off my blog. Seriously. There’s no place for you here.
You’re literally hoping that David Tennant, a man with five kids, will leave his wife of 12 years (whom he clearly loves) to end up in a hyper-sexual romantic relationship with Michael Sheen, who would also have to leave his partner as well, with whom he has two young children and who he seems very happy with. You’re literally wanting happy families to get broken apart so that your selfish ship can sail. It’s disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourselves.
I get wanting to have queer representation, it’s greatly needed and there is always room for more of it. However, wanting to assign a queer identity to someone who hasn’t publicly acknowledged that they identify that way is NOT okay. I don’t care who they are, celebrity or not. If you want to see queer representation, then Aziraphale and Crowley are RIGHT THERE. Don’t wreck real people’s relationships with their partners—and their friendship with each other—just because you want your ship to sail. If for some reason David and/or Michael want to come out in the future on their own, then that’s for them to do when they feel comfortable, and speculating about their identities without them saying anything is just weird and gross.
AND ANOTHER THING! All y’all who write essay-long posts analyzing every single social media thing about Michael, David, Georgia, and Anna: y’all need to get a fucking life. Go outside. Touch grass. PLEASE stop treating these very real people like they’re puppets in your grand romance story. I guarantee you that their lives are probably not NEARLY as fascinating and scandal-filled as what you think they are. And believe it or not—because I know y’all LOVE to use this as “evidence”—people are allowed to not be all smiley and lovey-dovey in selfies and photos with their partners, and for many people, teasing their partners is part of their relationship! *gasp* I know right?? Shocking. It literally doesn’t mean anything that Georgia and David tease each other or that Michael and Anna tease each other, and that they all occasionally aren’t smiling in photos with each other. That’s normal person behavior and I’m begging y’all to understand that.
I know this post probably isn’t going to be seen by the weirdo people who need to see it the most, but whatever. I just really needed to get this off my chest.
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Text
Underworld Insomnia | 4 - B.Barnes
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Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader
Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his psychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,-
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.
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"Frosty longed for companionship, but no matter where he drifted, he found himself alone in the icy wilderness," the soothing voice of the story lulled Bucky into drowsiness. Just as he began to succumb to sleep, he heard your urgent cry, "Bucky!"
His body relaxed upon hearing your voice, but his eyelids felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion. As he fought to keep them open, he sensed a peculiar sensation—something cool and tingling on his face. With a struggle, he managed to crack his eyes open, greeted by the sight of a small figure with oversized glasses hovering over him.
Bucky rubbed his eyes in confusion. "You... Ahh!!! What is this?" he exclaimed, noticing Conroy holding a tube of toothpaste.
Conroy, ever matter-of-fact, explained, "Because you're not awake. Seems like your body lack of iron."
Bucky narrowed his eyes at Conroy, feeling a mix of amusement and irritation at the kid's audacity. "Bah! I'm still in my prime," he retorted, trying to maintain his tough demeanor despite the situation's absurdity.
You were in another room when you heard an adult male voice, and you approached them, relieved to find that Bucky was no longer asleep. "You're awake," you remarked, noticing the toothpaste under Bucky's eyes. You knew it must be Conroy's doing.
Moving closer to Bucky, you reached for a cloth to wipe away Conroy's prank. "Conroy, you have to apologize to Bucky," you insisted firmly.
Bucky was taken aback by your actions. First, as the best contract killer in the industry, he could evade guns, knives, poisons, and other threats, but he never expected your voice to act as a lethal weapon. Second, he was surprised by the sudden tenderness in your gesture. He had never experienced such care before.
Conroy put his hands on his hips defiantly. "Why? If it's not because of me, he would still be asleep," he argued.
You clicked your tongue, feeling the need to maintain respect for the homeowner who could also protect you both from the group.
Bucky waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine," he assured, standing up to put some distance between himself and you. Perhaps it was your perfume that made his heart race. Clearing his throat, he asked, "How long was I asleep?"
You replied, "12 hours."
Bucky closed his mouth in disbelief. Twelve hours? That was a new record.
Concerned for his health, you suggested, "Bucky, do you need to go to the hospital? Perhaps something is wrong with your health?"
Bucky crossed his arms, feeling a bit irritated that both you and Conroy seemed to underestimate his health. He shook his head. "No. I've been there multiple times, and they found nothing wrong with me. Besides..." His conversation was cut short as he received a call.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Where the heck have you been?" the voice on the other end demanded.
"Sleeping," Bucky replied simply.
"What?! I don't even want to know. Just get your ass over here. Our situation is not good in the Caribbean Sea. Pirates tried to steal our client's ship."
Bucky's response was nonchalant, "Sure. Prepare the plane for me."
"But there's nowhere to land," came the urgent reply.
Bucky smirked, unfazed, "Who said the plane has to land?"
***********
At an altitude of 40,000 feet inside the cargo plane, Bucky surveyed the situation below. Miguel, one of his colleagues, filled him in on the mission details, "Our client hired us to rescue his son. Pirates are attempting to capture the vessel because they know our client is wealthy."
As Bucky prepared his parachute bag and checked his guns, Miguel asked him, "Are you sure you want to go alone?"
Bucky nodded confidently. "Yup. It'll be quick. See you later." With a salute, he jumped from the plane, disappearing into the night sky. Watching his fearless departure, Miguel chuckled and shook his head. "Crazy dude," he muttered to himself.
Once airborne, Bucky opened his parachute and descended gracefully toward the pirate-infested ship below. As he landed on the deck, he swiftly drew his weapons and sprang into action. With precise aim and lightning-fast reflexes, he took down each pirate one by one, dodging their gunfire with ease.
In a matter of seconds, the deck was cleared, and Bucky secured the area before moving to rescue the client's son. Amidst the chaos, he located the young man and ensured his safety, escorting him to a secure location on the ship.
The client's son, shaken but unharmed, looked up at Bucky with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you," he said, his voice trembling with relief.
Bucky's work was clean and efficient, a testament to the positive effects of his recent restful sleep. He nodded in acknowledgment as he received praise from his agency's boss. "Great job."
However, when the boss mentioned wanting to introduce him to someone, Bucky politely declined. "No, I need to head back," he explained. He remembered that you and Conroy were relying on emergency food supplies back at the safe house. While Conroy might have a sharp tongue, Bucky couldn't forget that he was still just a 4-year-old kid.
With a sense of responsibility, Bucky prioritized your well-being and Conroy's comfort over any additional meetings or introductions. He needed to ensure that you both had enough to eat and were safe while he was away.
Bucky returned to the safe house to find you and Conroy engaged in making origami, a sight that amused him. It seemed that neither of you found entertainment in TV or movies.
Upon hearing the door open, you looked up and greeted him, "Welcome back."
"Hm," Bucky acknowledged, feeling a warm sensation at being welcomed home for the first time.
Conroy abandoned his Godzilla origami and rushed over to Bucky. "Is that the same chicken I had?" His hand reached out eagerly for the plastic bag, but Bucky raised it just out of reach, prompting Conroy to pause. "Hey."
Bucky raised an eyebrow playfully. "Don't 'hey' me. Ask me nicely."
Conroy's cheeks puffed up with a pout. "Can I have some of the food, please?"
Bucky chuckled, lowering the bag. "It's all yours."
Conroy dashed to the table, exclaiming, "Yes!"
Left alone with you, Bucky expressed his gratitude. "With 12 hours of sleep, I was able to finish my work quickly. Thanks."
You smiled warmly. "I'm glad I could help."
Bucky glanced around the safe house, noticing the origami creations scattered around. "What are you two making?"
You chuckled softly. "Conroy wanted to learn origami, so we've been practicing."
Bucky observed the colorful paper creations with a hint of admiration. "Looks like he's getting pretty good at it."
You nodded proudly. "He's a quick learner."
Just then, Conroy returned to the table, devouring his fried chicken with gusto. Between bites, he grinned at Bucky. "Thank you for the food!"
Bucky ruffled Conroy's hair affectionately. "You're welcome, kiddo."
As the three of you sat together, enjoying the simple pleasure of a shared meal, Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging he hadn't experienced in a long time. Despite the dangers lurking in the shadows, there was a sense of peace and camaraderie within the walls of the safe house.
Bucky leaned forward, his eyes focused on you with a seriousness that caught your attention. "Do you have a plan to put Conroy into kindergarten?"
You paused, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. "At the moment, no. With everything that's been happening, it hasn't really crossed my mind."
Bucky nodded, considering your words carefully. "If you want, I know of a safe kindergarten that's highly secretive. It's attended by children of parents in similar lines of work, like myself. To ensure Conroy's safety, we could even consider changing his name."
As you listened to Bucky's suggestion, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his concern. Despite his tough exterior, he genuinely cared about your well-being and Conroy's.
After you answered, Conroy interjected excitedly, "I want to go!!!" He hopped down from his chair and dashed over to Bucky, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "I want to join the kindergarten. Please,~"
Bucky chuckled at Conroy's sudden burst of energy, finding his eagerness endearing. "You can, if you behave," he replied with a playful grin.
Conroy puffed out his chest proudly. "I am a good kid," he declared, his determination evident in his stance.
You couldn't help but smile at Conroy's excitement, feeling hopeful for his future despite the challenges you faced. With Bucky's support and the promise of a safe place for Conroy to learn and grow, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.
***********
The next day, Bucky continued his day with a brand new energy, grateful for the restful sleep he had gotten. This newfound routine eased his anxiety, allowing him to approach the day with a clearer mind.
He decided to visit the bar, a usual haunt where killers often gathered. As he entered, the dimly lit ambiance greeted him, familiar and somewhat comforting.
To his surprise, his boss approached him, accompanied by a figure clad in a custom suit that exuded an air of mystery and intelligence. The man's demeanor suggested he was no ordinary individual; perhaps a member of the CIA or a special undercover agent. His sharp gaze bore into Bucky, assessing him with keen interest as if dissecting his every move and thought.
The person introduced himself to Bucky with a firm handshake and a confident demeanor. "It's an honor to meet you, Barnes," he began in a voice with authority and a hint of intrigue. "I'm August Walker, and you have something that I want."
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Author Note:
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Thank you!
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
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soraviie · 1 year
Text
you're oblivious.txt
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━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ masterlist
━ about: fluff + crack  ━  pictures taken from Pinterest
━ a/n: lowkey inspired by a video of Hoseok being oblivious to BTS. Literary wise is not that complicated but it's humourous
━ previously posted on soraviii
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NAMJOON:
sAVE HIM
Literally 
He’s struggling so bad bro it’s not even funny 
Fights the battle against your ignorance on two sides
By night, he’s your suave secret admirer, leaving behind finely crafted letters of adoration that would put the brightest of the Romantic Age into a second grave
By day, he’s fucking shitting himself
Knees weak, palms sweaty, mom’s spaghetti 
“This is made of silk,” he tugs at his own shirt during a short elevator ride
“Hmm,” comes your reply and from the gleam in your eye, he might just bear this suspicion you’re orbiting Mars right now
Alas he can’t stop
Because Holy SHIT! You’re here! Hi!
(truthfully, in the beginning, he was somehow much more put together, wowing you with sleazy smiles, breathy laughs and all the glory of that fuckboy gene that sleeps somewhere in his DNA but after that flew over your head and he listened to a podcast about the scarcity of sincere romantic gestures and the respect of polite admiration, the attempts to seduce you grow exponentially worse with time)
“It’s not velvet because it doesn’t feel velvety. Or tweed. Because obviously, it’s not…tweedy.”
“I see,” you conclude, dead to the world. “Have a nice day, Mr Kim.”
Watches you leave, bites on his fist, bites on his shirt, sulks the day away
plEASE just let him talk to you, I beg
Wants to hear your opinion, your insights, what you like and dislike, everything
Thus he tries to break the ice by initiating the dumbest subjects
“Grape?” he leans against the table, a total playboy. “Thoughts?”
“Of a singular grape?” you clarify
He sweats. “yEah.”
“None,” you reply flatly
So think a teenage boy with a crush but more wholesome
If he’s ever seen talking to you and/or trying to subtly touch you (which is another thing on its own) know that the last twenty minutes were spent shitting, screaming, vomiting
Ah! The Touching!
Tries to be subtle and casual - a hand over your shoulder because of some vague reasons, plays with your clothes a lot while pointing out this looks pretty on you 
HAND! ON! LOWER! WAIST!
The excuse is he’s just guiding you where you need to be 
And where you need to be is in his arms
And his bed he's actually so horny for you damn checking out left and right and then feeling conflicted over it because as a man...!
All this circus is, of course, detrimental to everyone’s mental health 
It is deeply painful to watch
Yoongi probably goes around citing the long-term health damage this inflicts upon him 
In the end, Namjoon is ousted by someone in the group. Anonymously but still the e-mail “Go out with Namjoon, he’s the one writing the letters. You have 24 hours.” is accompanied by “sent from Jimin’s iPhone”
YOONGI:
What have you done
You’ve created a monster!
When the saccharine first stage of catching feelings is gone with no results, honey boy, shyly twitching and squirming at every sentence, smiling softly at you in the distance, is no longer
This is Min Yoongi a.k.a. Agust D a.k.a. don’t wear converse a.k.a. the infamous Tokyo deliverer
Because, yes, Yoongi is not the stone-cold bastard everyone thinks he is, he’s actually a caring, considerate man interested in the simple life not the grand scheme of the universe
But you must remember - what Yoongi wants, Yoongi gets
You’ve ever seen shameless Min Yoongi?
Lord
He will not give a single shit
Will sit in your lap even with 1000 chairs available, invites you to dinner all the time with some handwavy excuse
Turns into his version of a whore (wears one layer instead of three)
(tight, white t-shirts displaying the Min Buffgi agenda, hello)
Points at a tattoo parlour and says you should get each other’s names engraved then he sort of laughs but does he??
Has  created a ship name for you and does bring it up at any moment he pleases to be fit which is coincidentally all the time
Definitely says “this is because I like you” in passing
But all in all, you can sEE it in HIS EYES!
They sparkle! 
Requests your presence like a tyrannical king if he’s feeling down
Gives you probably weirdly affectionate names like “heater” or “vitamin water” meaning you make him warm and energized
Sorry, he just can’t get anything like “honey” past his lips so “solar panel” it is
To keep you around him longer plays his favourite version of the game "two truths one lie" which is "all lie, pure shit"
Basically says the most blatantly untrue shit so you would sit and debate that coconuts in fact do not migrate due to birds
Sometimes he's still not up to talk and wants to just submerge himself in the music but even so, oftentimes he's okay with you chilling on the couch doing your own thing
Basically having a crush for him means wanting head pats and then doing the absolute most to receive them (while taking good care of you in turn)
JIN: 
Clings
He doesn't usually do that so that's how everyone knows something's up
Back hugs because it’s cold, back hugs because it’s warm, it’s raining in Madagascar, he doesn’t care
Paradoxically, says the most ego-inflated things whilst sweltering red like a forest fire
“Look at me, haven’t I passed even my normal rate of attractiveness? I’m definitely 12 today,” says he whilst pushing hair out of his forehead, thus showcasing the flaming ears
He will NOT! have anyone embarrass him during this crucial time!
If any one of these degenerates opens their foul fucking mouth to spill the practice conversation he had between himself and the mirror, he will kICK THEM INTO THE SUN!
Lame, couple puns
All the time
Neverending
He has to rehash them after a while
Really wants to make you laugh :(
Wants your compliments so bad, he's fishing for them every second of the day
hehe fishing get it because he likes to fish
“Doesn’t this shirt match my hair?” he asks
“Hmm. You look like a grapefruit.”
Turns away in shame, palm over mouth
Definitely hands RJ so you could watch over him
It’s his child so he wants only the most elite care and seeing you play with the plush has him melting in heart-shaped goo
Ooo! Smooth Jin has entered the station! He’s boarding the train! Look at him go!
Whispers in your ear, establishes his dominance over the seat next to you, makes up the most random bullshit for you to touch him - can you adjust this, adjust that, could you help him brush his hair etc.
Oh, and if you don’t take proper care of yourself, he activates his strict care mode
You know those moments when Jin becomes The Eldest? Hot
“All life is precious,” says with a frown but one born out of worry standing in front of you, arms on hips as you sit there with your head hung low. “Your’s even more so don’t be careless with it.”
But after scolding he treats you either via food or by saying he's just worried for you
Definitely offers to do something for you and throws fake tantrums about it
"Ah, __________, I can't believe you're making me pay for this meal!"
"I'm not ??? I can pay for my own share if your rich ass is so stingy."
Pouts to the max -
"Yah, you don't think I can take care of you?! Yah, you're underestimating me. Oh, ____________ you won't be underestimating ever again!"
HOSEOK:
Doesn’t embarrass himself quite as much as the rest 
He’s actually kinda chill about it
Perhaps because he’s been the oblivious one in the past and he’s reserved himself
And he doesn’t want to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable
One word that comes to mind - solid
(not that, you pervert)
Trustworthy you know
Offers a ride everywhere whenever he can especially from home to work and back
Do you need something? He’s got it. Do you want extra help? He’ll do it
You're sad?
He'll cheer you up in no time
So really becomes like your rock
Starts nonsensical conversations as well but unlike Namjoon he actually succeeds
“This one they had in pink last year, it was all over Instagram. How is it purple now?”
“Dunno,” you look at the flowers. “Maybe different species. Maybe they repainted them. Purple is trendy right now.”
“Haha, borahae.”
Then plucks one flower and tugs it behind your ear
“There. Pretty.”
Feeds you a lot, really attentive
Doesn’t really care what you see him as for now - a friend or a helpful guy - as long as you’re living good, he’s happy :’)
The only thing giving away his crush is the constant playing with his ears to alleviate nervousness
And the handmade jewellery, for sure has by now given you ten to twelve handmade bracelets which he nearly passed away when gifting
Whenever he sees them on your wrists gets ultra shy but happy cause this might actually happen in due time
JIMIN:
Did I say save Namjoon? Save this guy
You don’t know what his deal is? He doesn’t either
Know of his duality? Prepared to be exposed to it on a rhythmic rotation from here on out
Was he just yesterday, playing with your earring, whispering in a sultry, whiny tone:
“Why don’t you like me, __________?”
“I do like you.”
“You could like me a bit more. I would really like it if you would.”
And is he now, on this fine fucking day, hiding behind Namjoon whispering into his ear to tell you you’re doing a great job?!
Yes. 
He’s feeling shy today :(
Lingering touches all the time
It’s a scientific fact published in the new issue of an international medical journal - if he’s going ten minutes without touching you, his kidneys, lungs, stomach and tendons experience abrupt and painful deterioration 
So you better get your ass here asap :)
He’s stretching? Somehow hugging you. You’re sitting? His hand is on your thigh
HAND! ON! THE! THIGH!
It's like an entirely new brand of love for him and there are many different flavours to this
Calming, comforting, jealous, they’re mine back off
Cutely annoys you for attention
Like standing in the doorway, asking you 1000 times if he’s cute or not, sing songs your name for no reason
Oh my god, mentions your name at random times of the day, sometimes while singing, sometimes improvising a tune, sometimes just underneath his breath
You're always on his mind, so naturally, it sits on his tongue all the time as well
A stream nay an ocean of compliments, not just to you but to everyone whose listening
Or is forced to listen
Like Taehyung whose ear he has yapped off already
Because to him, you are the best and everyone else should also think that
“Hey, isn’t ___________ so cool these days?” “You always look so bright!” “Thank you, _____________, you’re an angel! We can be a fairy angel duo!”
And then the other shoe drops
Shameless Jimin is a menace and a half
Biting his lips, laughing breathily, sorta being a dom
“Don’t pout, _________, brats don’t get awards” :)
“You should look only at me, got it” :)
Just really sweet, cute, menacing, really caring and attentive if you’re feeling down
Oh and lest we forget his special soft whiny voice! In full throttle when you’re around
“_________, we should be around each other for a very long time.”
TAEHYUNG: 
:)
:)
:)
Does this seem menacing? Because Taehyung is
Where does one even start with this little shit?
Says the most heinous, out-of-pocket shit. 
“__________, I want to see what our children would look like.”
And if you somehow manage to not see it, when Taehyung is as subtle as the asteroid that plunged Earth into the Ice age, that’s fine he’s just going to be even bolder :)
Treats it almost like a game
The more oblivious you are, the more he’ll hammer through the walls of blindness :) don’t worry :) he’ll succeed next time :)
Unlike Jimin who probably has a laugh of “how they’re so blind”, his laugh says “you’re so cute :) I’ll get you next time”
Gift giving!
Waffles, flowers, little jewellery brought with no excuse or explanation
Always ropes you into doing something together, even if it’s something silly
He’s confident but it is warm and yeah kind of cocky but with no malice behind it
It’s like he’s oozing a pink romantic light from within
Watches out for you, like proper gentleman stuff - walks on the side of the road in case of splashes, pulls out the chair, waits for you to finish work to accompany you home 
But no personal space you just have to live with it
If there’s music can and will dance with you ranging from a slow waltz to nuzzling you whilst swaying
Definitely does weird things like if you bump into something, he must “inspect the damage” which means sitting you down and lowkey and respectfully admiring you and softly touching you (in appropriate places, you pervs)
If he annoys you so much, you threaten to put him in a chokehold, he looks like a man in the gate of Heaven
Honey, darling, lovely is a must
Has his gallery full of pictures of you (taken consensually) though I always imagine them as being super blurry
He's a blurry sorta guy
Says he misses you a lot even if you haven't gone anywhere
Definitely has had a conversation about your past lives and that you must have met at some point
He’s persistent but not in a creepy way, only does this much because he sees you being oblivious but not weirded out by all these gestures
Definitely and 100% insists that his angel brought you to him 
JUNGKOOK:
If there wouldn’t be a child protection squad engaged at all times, he would have already snapped his neck trying to impress you
Giggles a lot!
Sort of jokes about it
Like if you somehow end up lying next to each other, he will say something like “oo the air changes, it’s becoming heavy”
Definitely adds your gestures to the infinite list to mimic
But genuinely does pick up your habits because he’s watching you a lot
Protective! To the max!
If you’re scared of anything, anything at all, be it a stranger or a moth, he’ll be there to avert the threat
Calls you his dog’s other parent for sure and instructs Bam especially to protect you
Very cuddly once he gets to know you
At first not really talkative mostly just reacts to you, laughing along your jokes, commenting on how good you’re doing something but then asks for your opinions, invites you to play games and such
If you’re mad at him - the literal impersonation of 🥺
Holds your hand while walking sometimes and then teases himself for it???
Who knows what goes on in that head
Gets jealous and definitely glares if someone is trying to make moves even if you’re not together
Afterwards, he pouts and whines
"They're not even that great. I can do all that and more"
Does and promises to do stupid things to impress you, like if you need to move a table, he’ll definitely bust through the wall and say all cool like “I can get it by myself, don’t worry” only to strain his muscles 
Shows off his tattoos and if you want to get one as well will be so enthusiastic, you’ll get the best parlour in the city, the most thorough care afterwards provided by him of course
At times when he’s talking and you turn to look at him, his brain stops and there’s audible error noise coming behind those eyes
Sometimes he stutters when speaking to you, especially if trying to be smooth but he’s doing his best
Actually, he's the hottest when he's not trying
Like he's driving you back home, music on the low playing all sexy and he's like clicking his tongue while leaning back into the seat
And that does something to your brain, breaks through the wall and surmises a point that this dude is actually kind of hot
And he's taking special care of you
He then turns and chuckles taking in your wide eyes
"Do I have something on my face?" he asks. "Or have you begun liking me, ____________?"
You blush and look out the window
"It's nothing"
He doesn't push further but secretly hopes to high heaven you do
Has told about you indirectly to his mom by asking questions about how people like to be wooed
But then definitely has that shy smile when she teases him about it
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© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023
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evilkitten3 · 8 months
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atla crack au where zuko and azula burn the palace down as kids (like 12 and 10, respectively, pre-banishment but post-grandpacide), run away to avoid consequences, and somehow end up "discreetly" living in the abandoned fire nation ship in the south pole ("discreetly" is a word which here means "all the adults know they're there bc they have massive arguments every other day, and when hakoda's nearby he "drops" things that might be useful")
ozai ends up blaming the palace fire on iroh and banishes him. he must capture the children to regain his honor (translator's note: this is adult speak for "get their asses back here so i can ground them for the rest of their lives")
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inkwolvesandcoffee · 8 months
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Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)
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Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3.2K
Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff
Summary:
Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.
However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.
Especially those that concern a sweet reward.
Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.
Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley
TH Masterlist
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Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 
In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 
As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.
Our home.
Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 
Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.
We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.
I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”
Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.
Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.
Thanks for the faith, buddy.
“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”
Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 
We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.
Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 
Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.
Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 
Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.
He was a sweet and caring gentleman.
Simply Alfie Solomons.
Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.
Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.
“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”
“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”
“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”
I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”
“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”
“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”
“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”
“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.
“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”
“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”
Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”
“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”
“Which is?”
“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”
“Where’d you get the recipe?”
“YouTube…”
He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’
“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”
“Don’t use my words against me.”
“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”
I hope.
A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”
I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”
The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”
“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”
Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”
“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”
“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”
“First put on a pair of knickers.”
“No.”
“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”
“I ain’t sweating.”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”
I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”
“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”
Until I black out. 
The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.
For him.
Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”
“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”
We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”
He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’
“Knickers, Alfie.”
“One round.”
“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”
The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”
I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”
He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”
Game over.
Except for the one card I have left to play.
“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”
“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”
Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.
Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.
Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.
“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”
I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”
“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”
I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”
Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.
These hours are ours.
This is our Margate.
“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”
“Mhm.”
Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.
Because sleeping isn’t an option.
He’s tired of the nightmares.
The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.
Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.
And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.
As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”
He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”
“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”
“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.
“And? Do you like it?” 
Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 
I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”
“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 
Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”
“I’m serious.”
“You are?”
“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”
I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”
“There are cookbooks.”
“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”
“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”
“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”
“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”
Something not to be had in the kitchen.
‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’
Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 
Game over.
I won.
And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.
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mercurywritesstuff · 2 months
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Love, Noona: Chapter 1
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pairing: Chan x fem!reader genre: smau, Forbidden love, Best friends sister trope, Idol x Idol pov: 1st person texts, 2nd person writing warnings: Swearing, suggestive-ish, typical sibling violence, drug mention summary: Chan has a one night stand with a girl he couldn't remember the name of, but he gets the shock of his life when the girl turns out to be his subordinate. Oh, and also she's Felix's older sister.
Taglist Status: Open! (36 spots available left) Taglist: @freyjhasdesiredreality, @partyparty-yah, @jediturtlelover, @highlydestiny, @lixie-phoria, @silverstarburst, @sandandstarz , @massivesoyeondelusion , @spiceyhamcat, @fishlane75, @gini143, @palindrome969, @lakoya, @i-dont-know-me-either
(Red names mean I cannot tag you for some reason) word count: 1.1k screenshot count: 7 Songs for this chapter: Girl on TV⋆ HONEY(ARE YOU COMING?)
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You had gone to the JYP building, face burning with shame. How could you let someone sleep with you as easily as he did, while drunk? Let alone your superior?? Don’t even mention the fact that he is her coworker and little brother’s best friend. 
You felt awful for letting yourself get caught up on your horny feelings. Sure, you hadn’t had a partner for years, but that didn’t mean you could fuck the nearest thing that was somewhat interested in you. And to top it off, you completely lied to your friends. You remembered everything. The way his skin felt, and the pleasure he gave you. 
God, you were pathetic. 
Yong-Mi grabbed your arm, shaking you out of that self-deprecating headspace. Her mouth was moving, and it took you a second to register that it was Korean. Right, you know Korean. 
“Unnie, are you listening?” Yong-Mi asked, looking into your dazed expression. Respond, damnit. 
“Sorry, I was in my head a little. What happened?” You cursed yourself internally at the tone your voice took. It cracked slightly, wavering just a little. Yong-Mi didn’t seem fazed, however. 
“I’ll grab water if you want to get the rest of the girls stretched and warmed up. Half of us is going into the studio while the other half is practicing with Danceracha.” Sometimes, Yong-Mi was more of a leader than you were. She would’ve been a better leader, you thought. 
“Okay, sounds fun.” You forced a smile, and Yong-Mi gave you a look that she knew. She knew about the way you talked down to yourself. She pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on your head. Sometimes, you forget that you were considered tall for a female idol, and these are the times you forget. Yong-Mi always did that to you. 
The moment you stepped into practice room eight, you had to cover your ears at the yelling rapping competition Sang-hee and Soo had to have. They were always so fucking loud.  
“Unnie!” Jin-Ae, your youngest member, ran to you and ducked to give you a quick hug. She loved to give bits of skin ship, opposed to cuddles and long hugs, but not opposed to your side hugs.  
“Girls!” Your voiced boomed; Soo and San-hee stopped almost immediately. The girls always did that, listen to you at the start of each workday. It was only a matter of time they would either get too hyper or too pissed off: either way, it was going to end with someone yelling. 
“Thirty minutes till the boys get here. Time to warm up.” 
⋆⋆⋆ 
Yong-mi joined five minutes after you started warming up the group. You had done ten minutes of yoga, and the rest of the time was spent copying some dances you guys found on the internet. Your group manager and personal manager, Ha-Yoon and So-mi respectively, joined sometime in the mix. They were filming for the YouTube docuseries JYP had oh-so-graciously thought of. Great, now you must be professional even in your down-time. 
A knock rapped three times, causing the eight of you to quiet down, standing as the door opened. One-by-one, eight grown men filled the room, and when the eight were in, you all bowed to greet them. Except you. 
Your eyes zeroed in on Chan, your face flushing. Yong-Mi had to physically make you bow, you had frozen. Chan seemed to have the same effect you had. His face flushing at the sight of you, eyes widening with recognition. You bent down to grab your water, taking large gulps. You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and you found Felix booking it for you. 
“Felix, no, I have water-” And just like that, your water is spilt on the ground and you're cradling your grown but younger brother. He was laughing in his deep voice, to which you narrowed your eyes. He realized her fucked up, but before he could say anything, you dropped him on his ass. He groaned, mixed with his laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. 
“Y/nnnie that hurt~” He whined, and you raised an eyebrow at his pouting face. Growing up with him, his puppy dog eyes always worked on you. Not now, though. You had Jin-Ae to thank for that. And Sun-Hee. Everyone except Yong-Mi, you were immune to their puppy dog eyes. 
“Well, it wouldn’t have hurt if you weren’t such a galah.” You had spoken in English, your members looking at you confused at the slang word. You only used Korean in the group, being the only English speaker. Felix whined again. “Apologize to me and the poor water bottle you forced me to spill.” You smirked, playing with him to see how far he would go. 
“Sorry, noona.” He spat, getting a chortle in response from you. You helped him up, before wiping the dust off his pants. 
“Y’know, you really shouldn’t speak to your superior like that, Y/nnnie.” Felix smirked. 
“I will make it very embarrassing for you in front of your friends, Yongbok.” You held up your fist and grounded it into the palm of your hand; a threat that you wouldn’t mind going through with. 
He squeaked, running up to Hyunjin. They were all prettier in person, cameras not really giving them justice. You remembered the first time you saw them perform, and you were awestruck by your little brother and his group. You had wished to find a group like his when you debuted. In a way, you did. But God, were they like little kids when not working. 
⋆⋆⋆ 
“Okay! Soo, Sun-Hi, Su-Bin, and Jin, you will go with Bang Chan, Han, Lee know, and Changbin seonbaenim to the studio. The rest of you guys, you’re with me.” You had ordered your group, all listening intently. 
“Haha,” Sang-Hee giggled, and you glared at her to calm down. She rolled her eyes back, before doing a little dance. You smiled a little, much to your dismay.  
You and Chan had yet to interact, which you were grateful for. You could barely look at the man before you were filled with too much embarrassment. 
How were you going to work with him for the next three months? 
... 
Chan was freaking out. Sure, he hadn’t remembered the girl from the night before that much, only remembering how she smelt, how she tasted. But looking at the leader from PLAYground, all those memories came flying back. Oh, God. He was screwed. 
He excused himself to the bathroom, letting Han take over for the recording part. He sat in the private room, trying to quell the memories away. He did not want to look at his colleague that way. His subordinate. His best friend’s sister. 
How was he going to survive these next months? 
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