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#i'll take you to the sun : threads
luveline · 7 months
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Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?
Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done
thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve
cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress 
Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.
He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin. 
"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly. 
You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had. 
"Steve," he corrects. 
"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?" 
"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more." 
"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress." 
"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?" 
"It wasn't gross," you say softly. 
"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring." 
You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it." 
"You're too mean to yourself," he says. 
Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble. 
It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches. 
Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again. 
"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches." 
Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency. 
"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?" 
"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake." 
"Did someone say that to you?" 
"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.  
He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week. 
You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists. 
To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does. 
"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?" 
"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. 
"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock. 
"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask. 
"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?" 
Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.
There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met. 
"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile. 
"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional." 
"And you as mandatory?"
"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."
You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife. 
"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages." 
He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.  
if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing
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thesirencult · 3 months
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PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS
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PILE 1
Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.
"Keep your map close to your chest darling.
Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )
I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.
You are my sun.
My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.
I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.
Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"
PILE 2
Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.
Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.
"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.
Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.
Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.
I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".
I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.
You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.
I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."
PILE 3
Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.
They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.
They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).
"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,
I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.
Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.
I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.
You are mine. Mine. Mine.
Always yours, your FS."
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lalunanymph · 4 months
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𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 — n. seishiro + i. rin
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what’s better than one football prodigy in your bed? that’s right—two.
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"move your lukewarm ass—"
"s'not my fault you couldn't get a bigger bed!"
"if i have to see your foot right in front of my face again, i'll—"
"rin," you pouted. "sei."
the unlikely pair turned to you, teal blue eyes and steel grey ones focused on your flushed face.
you were naked from the waist down, legs spread and ready for the both of them to take you... if only they would just stop bickering for a second.
the story of how you landed in between two of blue lock's most lethal players was a funny one, but you couldn't recount it right this second.
after all, history was the furthest thing from your mind when you were waiting for either of them to just fuck you.
rin, the hot-headed one between him and nagi, tossed a baleful glare at the white-haired man. "can't even finish what you started right—must i always teach you what to do?"
"careful, itoshi," nagi mumbled breezily, though the threat behind his casual tone was clear as day. "i could beat your ass anytime on the field."
"you barely have any talent, you lukewarm—"
your arms around his shoulders stopped rin from his tirade. the only thing in the world that could calm him down was you and your sweet smile which could rival the sun.
"be nice to each other, please," you whispered, and for good measure, placed a kiss on rin's warming cheek. "i really need you both. don't keep me waiting?"
you left an open-ended question for either man to follow through. nagi was the one who didn't hesitate to meet your needs in the middle.
curling his large palm around your ankle, you fought a shiver at how the veins on the back of his hand seemed more pronounced now that he was tensed. he yanked you from rin, and you tumbled back onto the bed, legs falling wide open for him to dive in between them.
his lips were swollen, shaded close to cherry wine when he latched onto your clit again, slowly sucking it and massaging it with his mouth. your head tossed back, and rin's presence was felt by his hand on your throat, turning your face towards him.
your mouth parted open in a silent scream, and rin took the chance to ease his cock down your throat.
the walls of this love hotel which had seen numerous affairs would implode if news of this tryst reached the wrong ears.
news would pour out, and disgust would be splashed across the pages of every tabloid.
it would ruin both your lovers' careers.
but, like an asteroid approaching the burning surface of the sun, a collision of epic proportions was inevitable.
you white-knuckled the sheets, hips writhing like a pit of snakes with nowhere to go. trapped in between two football prodigies, you could only take their merciless thrusting and licking, until the tight ball of heat in your lower belly was threatening to explode.
white light flooded through the cracks of your barely opened lids. rin was speeding up his thrusts, the sensual sounds of wetness and your throat taking him second to nagi's lewd moaning and lapping in between your legs.
you threaded shaky fingers through his frosty silver locks, trying to anchor yourself from flooding away in a sensation of pleasure.
"focus on us," rin's voice tainted by the searing pleasure roiling in those beautiful teal eyes reverberated through your ringing ears in a low growl. "don't tap out now, baby."
something physical and hot curled in your lower belly at rin's term of endearment. the famed stoic striker rarely ever doled out pet names, and something about being called rin's baby—the one to spark his natural instinct to protect—had your heart cartwheeling in your chest.
"mhm, tastes s'good," nagi's slurry groan added a layer of sensation you couldn't keep up with. he nuzzled your pubic bone, a momentary break, only to rub his slick lips over your clit in his rendition of a lazy, sensual kiss.
an electric feeling of darkness slithered down your spine, and you moaned around rin's length.
you were wet everywhere.
drool dripping down your chin. juices staining your thighs. sweat seeping into the sheets.
every second that passed in this blissful suspension of time and space was filled with unbearable pleasure. your hips twitched, stuffed moans trying to creep past the willing obstruction choking your airway.
you tasted rin's musk, the smell of him—soap and salt—springing tears to your eyes.
above you, his fall of dark green hair shaded his flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead. a snarl was etched across his mouth, the shine of his perfect white teeth flashing like a quick camera light in your hazy mind's eye.
flickering your gaze to the man between your thighs, your hips undulated when you noticed nagi removing his pants. the white-haired prodigy had zero patience when he slid his pretty, veiny cock against your folds, testing the waters and your eagerness.
your body responded instantly, lower half angling upwards, legs falling wider to accept his larger frame comfortably.
in between two men who were easily over six foot, it was hard not to be smothered by their bodies—but you adored the suffocation.
you loved the feeling of nagi's bigger body caging you on the bed, while his heavy hips collided with yours in a bruising pace that almost made you spit out rin's girthy length.
"fuck," rin huffed, craning his neck back to loll his head, eternal bliss written on his pretty features. "so good. f-fuck. best mouth..."
he trailed off in a whimper which would've been unnoticeable if seishiro had not stopped fucking into you.
"told ya," the white-haired striker mumbled triumphantly. "told ya to take a chance on us."
you could actually hear rin gritting his teeth.
"just focus on fucking her," he spat, murderous glare fracturing into heated pieces from his faltering expression. it was hard to hold onto anger when you were tonguing his balls.
he slid his gaze to your grinning mouth split open by his fleshy globes and felt a surge of love so strong that if he were standing, rin would've been knocked to his feet.
luckily, he was already on his knees for you.
the one woman who could put him there without a single complaint.
"i wuv you," your cute confession while your mouth was full of him made rin almost tear up. those lukewarm feelings would never see the light of the night—not when nagi was opposite of him, fucking into your pussy like he might never have it in his life again.
rin eyed the frothing, creaming mess in between your thighs born from the other striker's precise, clean strokes.
was there anything that this stupid white-haired bum couldn't do?
rin tamed down his jealous thoughts, reminding himself again that you three were a team. an unlikely one—but still a team nonetheless.
as for the other man, he was completely drunk on the sway of your hips and tits, eyeing the hypnotizing way your throat bulged when it was full of rin only to smooth out and repeat again. and again. and again.
he felt his own balls tighten when you pulled your face off rin's cock, running your hot pink tongue over his taint and balls.
it was like he could feel it gliding across his own skin—
"fuck!"
seishiro fell into a heap on top of you, completely spent. his heavy breaths fanned across your neck and chest, his cum spilling out in milky stains onto the sheets, cock pulsing pathetically in you, like his soft whines which begged for your attention.
luckily, your hands were offloaded from stroking rin's pretty and thick length when the other man's hips stuttered and he gripped the back of your head, holding you in place.
seishiro could tell when the younger itoshi had come—his face would crumple first, like a paper doily that was unable to fight off the force of his body's baser instinct. then, a pinch of pain in between his brows, a heavy sigh and half-lidded drunkenness.
when those teal eyes fluttered wide open again and he stumbled back onto his haunches, you were there to catch rin.
how the hell did you manage to cuddle in bed with two really tall, athletic men—you would never know.
but with nagi's head on your chest, and rin curled into your side, you were floating on a cocktail of hormones and pride at bringing two of blue lock's most talented men right into your bed.
a coasting sensation that was dragged down the corners into reality for a split second like a curtain pulling back when you heard rin mumble: "next time, i'm getting her pussy," loud enough for seishiro to hear.
nagi grunted, not giving the younger man the time of day or space to breathe when he uttered his next words.
"why don't you score a scorpion trap against me first and then we'll talk."
every reblog and (nice!) feedback given gets your delulus closer to trululus
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©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.
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shidouryusm · 6 months
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𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚-> tending to gojo satoru when he's sick and you're lovesick
Satoru x gn!reader
1.5k (Y'all shouldn't even be fazed atp im mentally ill ofc I'll write like crazy)
content- fluff, sick!gojo, banters, mentions of death (but not in any angsty way), too corny for its own good.
a.n -> this is way too self-indulgent. I just plastered a piece of my daily delusions with satoru in words. hope y'all will enjoy this little piece mwuah. I'm so lovesick for this idiot im not even embarrassed. a ginormous kiss to @stsgluver and @planetnini for proofreading and nini fixing all the little things. she is my second pair of eyes :3
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Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer of his age. The man bestowed with Six Eyes and Limitless, literally untouchable with a millimeter of radius separating him from the physicality of the world. The absolute one man army — is currently whining with a wet towel wrapped around his forehead, rolling over the bed with a mere fever. 
“Baby, I think I’ve reached my end. We gotta prepare for my funeral” Satoru mumbles groggily, his eyes partly covered with a damp towel. 
“Don’t just say anything, ‘Toru.” you hum, sitting by his side as you massage his head over the towel. He whines with his hands wrapped around your waist, nudging you closer to him. 
Your boyfriend has always been an overdramatic nuisance in regards to everything ; a little too spoiled for his own good and a concealed face from the world that always yearns to be babied by you. Yet you cave, almost 9 out of 10 times, for how unconditionally lovable he is and manages to be everytime.
As of now – when he’s all theatrical with a cold fever, lips jutted in a small pout. Face scrunched up — which is scrunching a bit more…his forehead crinkles and nostrils flare-
“ANCHEWWWWW-”
His upper body jolts off the bed from the intensity, spraying droplets of sneeze in the air, the towel from his forehead dropping down to his lap.  
You crinkle your nose momentarily from the two second snot hurricane that he just spewed everywhere but you continue to rub gentle circles on his broad back. 
His body slumps into the mattress again as you put the towel back on his forehead. Toru shakes his head, “I'm telling you, baby. This is your final moment to write an obituary for me– how your boyfriend was the strongest as he stood resilient against the invisible sickness, and he stepped into the endless journey to the afterworld with the pretty face, hot body-”
“”Toru, do you ever shut up?” 
“No I don't. I thought you knew” he pouts before sniffling audibly due to the cold. 
You roll your eyes, exhaling a sigh. Nearly impossible to fight against him, even when he's knocked down in the bed. Rather, you decide to run your hands through his snowy white hairs, all splayed out on the mattress. He basks in the touch of your soft hands, humming gently. 
“A millions of curses failed to do that and you think a simple virus would? That’s pretty underperforming coming from you, don’t you think, ‘Toru?” you quip amusedly, earning a little scowl from the man.
“Curses are child’s play for me. Your boyfriend isn’t the strongest for no reason.” Satoru grumbles. 
“Yet can’t deal with a cold?”
“Now. I can’t fight biology, can I?” a hint of indignance in his voice.
You chuckle as you pinch his cheek,“Just playing with you, sicko boy.” you ruffle his hair before idly playing with them again, your fingers threading through the strands like some soft cushion.
The moment stills into the air with comfortable silence except from the little sniffles Satoru is occasionally letting out. You take in the beauty of this quietude.
The room lits with the mellowy rays of the sun – the slanted, golden beams cutting through the white blinds as it bounces off the white walls, leaving a  warm brightness around.
The dust particles dance along the reflecting light on one of the corners and little chirps of birds outside melts into the air. There’s an endless blue casted on the sky and a remarkable silence veils you that is nothing but homely to revel in. 
Moments like this are hard to catch like those dusts under the sunlight but living through them feels nothing less than walking into a dream and experiencing every minute humane feelings. 
Every note of inanimate objects mixed with the soft song of nature makes your heart bloom with gratitude for feeling through them, especially with Satoru … despite how beat up with fever he may look right now. 
You look at your sleeping boyfriend, his face morphing into an expression of comfort and content. Lips partly open to breath due to his congested nose. His chest heaves from the breaths and one of his arms strew across your lap, keeping the warmth of your body close to him. 
You marvel at the effortless beauty this man possesses. 
Even with a nasty cold, loose t-shirt, sniffling nose and disheveled hair, he managed to look like the most beautiful boy in the world.
Your beautiful boy. 
Trailing your hands down his cheek, you gently cup them in your hands, your thumb runs over the rosy swell of his cheek, moving up to his eyelids. his snowy eyelashes brush against the pads of your thumb while you tenderly caress them. 
“So beautiful…” you whisper into the air, looking at his sleeping figure with utmost fondness. Completely in awe with your ability to love him to the point of stretching infinity. 
-
Hearing the two words escape your mouth, Satoru couldn’t help but break out of his character. His broad hands wrap around your wrist and he opens eyes with a squint, adjusting to the brightness. A teasing grin breaking out in his face. “Hehe, heard you~” his cerulean eyes brightens on seeing you a little flustered. 
Way to ruin the tranquility of the moment. 
He pulls your wrist close to his mouth, delicately kissing the inside of your palm, “You know, it’s not bad. I could definitely use some of that kindness every once in a while.” Satoru hums. 
“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything” you feign innocence, not really knowing why you feel the need to deny it. 
“Mmhmm. Sure. I just heard voices in my head” he hums sardonically, his hands still tangled with yours. 
“Yes. you were dreaming. Fever dreams are pretty common in illnesses.” you counter.
Biting back at Satoru’s remarks was second nature to you, regardless of how lame the topic has to be. As if it’s like the very first time you both have met, setting foot into the relationship with little remarks. The spark that never extinguished in your conversations: of the banters that never goes amiss.
One of the constants in the ever changing wave of your relationship with Satoru. The relief from the turmoil the serious jujutsu world throws at you both.
“anything else, dr.google? the way you are forgetting things you did two seconds back, it’s you who needs to get checked. You were making the most googly eyes at me I’ve ever seen” you gasp, smacking his chest lightly, pulling away your hand from his grasp. 
“You’re gonna pass the sickness to me from your mouth, and for the record– I didn’t.” you  scoff in defiance, clutching your hand away from him. 
“Is this how you treat a sick person? I am wounded, baby,” mock hurt dripping from his words before he starts laughing. His laughter contagiously induces a chortle from you too. 
The sound fills the room to the brim as if you guys weren’t cross talking just a minute back. 
“That is so childish, why hide? Just accept you were being lovesick” Satoru adds. The laughter dies down a little and he’s back with his armor of words. 
“You’re so impossible, ‘Toru. how would you know whether I made googly eyes or not? Your eyes were closed.” 
“So you did make googly eyes, for you to be saying that? Such lame comeback. A bit underperforming. coming from you, don’t you think, baby?” he grins, tossing your own words back to you.
You narrow your eyes at him, fighting the urge to bite back your words, knowing the more you will drag it, Satoru will play along. 
“Sometimes I feel the only response is to strangle you. What happened to you feeling sick to the point of death? Isn’t it affecting you right now?” you scorn. playfully so.
“Talking to you is the way to my recovery, baby. Your words bring me back from sickness. feel my heart– it’s so alive” Satoru grins like he replied with the most appealing answer ever. 
He takes your hand, putting it over his chest. The murmurs of his heartbeat right underneath your palm. 
“Well that was repulsive and corny.” you wrinkle your nose. yet, planting your hands right where he kept it.
the feel of his sturdy chest and soft thuds of heart soothes you. He's insufferable but nothing would have you trade such fleeting moments with him.
“Doesn’t matter when I’m hot.” Satoru mutters, his face inches from yours as his nose nudges the side of your cheek. 
He’s not wrong but you’d be damned to accept that right now.
“We both know who’s bringing the hotness in this relationship.” you turn around and flick his forehead, getting up from the bed to bring him his medications. 
“Yes, it’s me. I am literally quite hot right now”
“Whatever floats your boat, babe", you chuckle. The sound of your laughter ebbing into the hallway as you walk out of the door and Satoru couldn’t feel any more healed. 
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a.n.2-> if I'm being dead honest to y'all, I intended to make it angsty as fuck by turning the whole thing as a flashback reader has after gojo died 💀💀 but I will spare myself and others for this time.
comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated
tagging : @stsgluver , @kuroosexuall @shotorus + @satoruhour @hannzai + any of my gojo girlies im amnesiac baby i actually forgot yikes
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shogunish · 1 month
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𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.
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synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”
contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao
wc. 1.3k
note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
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the inverted spear of heaven was no more.
the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.
it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.
however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.
no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.
always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.
if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.
satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.
you couldn't possibly blame him.
after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.
the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.
among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.
it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.
almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.
“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.
the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.
the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.
just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?
satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.
“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.
satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”
you wanted to ask, but decided against it.
“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”
in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.
“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”
“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”
a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.
“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”
“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.
to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.
“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.
satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.
quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.
“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.
“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.
ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.
“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.
“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.
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taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon
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keypostos · 8 months
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modern!au
"you know, after i watched paddington, i'm fully convinced animals can talk. you know⎯like in toy story. but they're hiding it from us," you rambled, tapping your finger on your chin like you were in deep thought.
alhaitham flipped over on his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow, "please, go to sleep." his voice is muffled as he pleads, which prompts you to go on.
"and another thing," you continue, "does a straw have two holes? or just one? but there has to be two, right? since there are two holes in a straw."
alhaitham turns around, laying on his side as he listens to you, "you do realize you just answered your own question, right?" he mocks you.
you roll your eyes in return, threading your hands through his hair and ruffling it as revenge. you pretend not to hear him sigh out of content, "yeah. but like⎯if it has two holes, why do we only drink out of one?"
this time, alhaitham does not sigh. he groans, "it's getting too late for these kinds of questions."
you raise your eyebrows, a grin slowly appearing on your face, "oh? so i've finally frustrated the curiosity out of you,'" your sentence turned into laughter at the end.
"you have not," alhaitham countered.
"i think i have," you brush your thumb over alhaitham's eyebrow. he held your hand over his eyebrow and rubbed his thumb over it. he takes your silence as a sign that you are succumbing to exhaustion and you are finally about to fall asleep. but he was wrong.
"i just have one more question," you blurted out.
"only one?" he looked up at you with sleepy eyes. the sight made you want to giggle. alhaitham looks vulnerable. he looks adorable, you think.
"only one," you reaffirm, and rub your thumb across his eyebrow once more, "do you think we're together in every universe?"
the question caught him off guard. you never asked questions like these. most of the time, your questions range from shower thoughts to absurdities. but something seemed more intimate about this one.
alhaitham does not know if you two would be together in every universe. the universe is vast and unpredictable. there are endless possibilities and endless outcomes. it would be impossible for you two to be together in every universe.
that being said, he hopes that you two are together in most of them. alhaitham⎯though he holds disdain at your questions⎯could not imagine a life without them. he simply could not think of a world where he doesn't listen to the sound of your voice every night. he could not visualize a world where he wouldn't be a recipient of your love and your warmth.
to envision a world without you in it is like envisioning a world without it's sun. the world would be shrouded in darkness, without a single bit of light. there would be no warmth, and everything would have froze to death and died.
he looks at you while he thinks about his answer. if he had to wake up every day, and your face wasn't the first thing he saw, alhaitham knew he'd be miserable. he spends at least ten minutes of his morning admiring you. without you, what would he do?
there would be no one to brush his teeth with. there would be no one to eat dinner with. there would be no one to talk to in the middle of the night. life truly seems empty there. he pities all the other alhaithams in the vast universe that have to live without you. it must be horrific, living like that.
so, he makes sure to make this universe count.
"c'mere," he pulls you down to lay with him. you're on your side now as alhaitham pulls you closer, "i'll tell you my answer."
your eyes perk up, having been anticipating his answer the past few minutes. would he disagree or agree? does he think you two would last over different dimensions?
"really? because i think that we'll⎯" alhaitham cuts you off by placing his hand on your jawline and pressing his lips onto yours. it's slow, soft, and quite sensual. his other hand travels down to your hip, slowly rubbing circles on the bone as he continues to kiss you. you don't seem to mind or pull away, as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.
your legs are intertwined with alhaitham's as you pull away. suddenly, you feel a lot tired than you did a few minutes ago. was this alhaitham's plan all along? did he just try to kiss you into exhaustion? whatever just happened, it would not work. you will get your answer.
you lean on his chest for one minute, and then you fall asleep.
alhaitham didn't intend for that to happen. it was just a small bonus. what he really wanted to do, was to appreciate what he had in front of him. to not take you for granted. he considers how lucky he is: he is here, in bed with you, and he gets to listen to you ramble. he is privileged enough to hear the sound of your voice, your laughter, your thoughts. he just wanted to show that off.
but now, you're entangled in his limbs, dozing off peacefully as you relax into his chest. you'll harass him more about his answer later, but for now, he only mumbles it to you.
"i hope we are together in every universe."
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xuchiya · 2 months
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vampire! seonghwa au
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request are open !!!
imagining how seonghwa would lock your arms behind you with one arm while the other around your chest as his pace hasten each time his cock presses abusively on your g-spot, you wailing at the over bearing bliss, "faster please ..."
"do you want me to go faster?" he whispers, you nodded shameless as you cry for him to go faster, "... harder ~hwa."
a low, feral sound rumbled in seonghwa's chest, an intense amount of lust stormed, brewing behind his crimson eyes. the last thread of his patience snapped, replaced by a dark chuckle that echoed through his fire-lit chambers, "did i hear that right?"
"yes seonghwa fuck me harder please!" your arms were free thinking you would be able to prop yourself on your arms but that moment was short as you felt yourself being pushed down on the plushed sheets, his hands clutching your hips , adjusting himself between your spread legs, his warm breath next to your ear, "you ask for it."
seonghwa's hips snapped harder each cry of 'plea' leaves your lips. seonghwa had his hips pounding to your pussy, ass clapping each time his hips thrusted, "s-shit... this pussy is mine."
seonghwa knows your body well that he repeatedly pounding to your g-spot, your screams were muffled on the sheets, manicured gripping tightly on the pillows even on his wrist. broken groan in his throat as he feel his climax reaching him.
you were completely destroyed, scattered with his fang bites, hickeys from your shoulders, down to your chest. he loves ruining you every night.
"i'm gonna cum on this pussy and you'll take every drop of them, yeah" you nodded, tears of pleasure runs down on your redden cheeks, "yes yes yes ... yes fu-fuck!"
he pulled you up halfway by your elbows, as his thrust becoming sloppy until he groans loudly, "that's it ... !" emptying himself deep inside you. when he successfully loads his cum inside, he loosens his grip on your elbow, letting you softly drop on his bed and pulls out, watching his cum drips but seonghwa plunge his fingers inside your pussy.
he looks at your squirming figure desperately trying to remove his hands but his strength has nothing on you as he effortlessly grip them as three of his fingers were buried deep inside.
"take it like a good cumslut you are." you were overstimulated with the amount of orgasm seonghwa has given you since the sun sets.
"i'm gonna cu-cum ... fuck seonghwa i'm cumming!" your hips shifts desperately on his fingers as you made yourself squirt your juices, long vocal of 'fuck' left your lips. you sigh contentedly, your hips staying still, finally thinking of resting but you're dead wrong.
"you really think i'm done? baby, we got all night ... i'll fill you up til' morning rise."
yep, you're completely dead wrong.
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Note
Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️
This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.
‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’
‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’
Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’
You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.
‘’Are you nervous?’’
You nodded again.
So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.
Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.
A few weeks later, the day finally came.
Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.
It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.
While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.
Except it wasn’t perfect. 
Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.
By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.
Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.
You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.
You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 
‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 
You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 
Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 
Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 
You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 
For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 
You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 
‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’
You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1
TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777
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Based on a twitter thread the lovely @nburkhardt shared in the Discord chat and I just took the idea that Gareth is both Chrissy AND Steve's cousin and ran with it.
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"Harrington, think fast!" Gareth is already lobbing the cream soda at Steve's head before he's even fully looked up but the asshole snatches it out of the air no problem. It barely even fizzes when he cracks the can open. The bastard.
"And for you, Chrysanthemum," Gareth hands off her cream soda gently, because she's his favorite cousin. She laughs at him but takes the soda. She doesn't open it right away, instead opting to set it beside her in the shade of the shed they've taken residency of. Out of sight of the rest of their family and their thousand and one questions.
"You know nicknames are supposed to be shorter than the original name, right?" Steve says, then burps because he chugged half the soda in one swallow.
"Gross," Chrissy says at the same time as Gareth's, "noice."
Steve grins, pleased with himself.
"Hey, so. I wanted to talk to you guys about something," Gareth says after a moment of quiet has fallen over them. He's plopped down in the front of them instead of resuming his spot beside Chrissy, leaning against the shed in the shade. It puts him in the sun but he wants to look at them both as they talk.
"Anything, Garebearringham," Chrissy says to annoy Steve with a lengthened nickanme.
"So, I'll be a freshman this year. And, I love you guys, you know I do, but, uh, I don't want to be seen associating with you. Publically."
There's a beat of silence where Steve and Chrissy just stare back, Chrissy looking hurt and Steve looking offended.
"What I mean is that you're both already, like, known. You know? And I don't want to just be… the cool kids' younger cousin. I want to be uncool on my own."
Chrissy says, "Oh. Yeah, I get that."
Steve says, "You want to be uncool?"
Gareth gestures to all of himself. "I am not aiming to win the popularity contest. I want to join the Hellfire club." He points an accusing finger at Steve. "You told me yourself that the club leader climbs on tables and rants about jocks-"
"Yeah, as a warning to not join Hellfire. How did you read that wrong?"
"-so I can't be seen associating with a cheerleader and the king of jocks. That'll ruin my, like, cred or whatever!"
Chrissy is nodding along solemnly. She's always been understand and sympathetic to Gareth, especially when it comes to being himself. In quiet alone times, she's confessed to being jealous of how easily being himself came to him and she wished she was as brave. Steve, however, was a conformist through and through and while Gareth could understand the why (his uncle and aunt are not the best of people) he's never going to try and fit in just because it makes like easier.
"Your cred," Steve says monotone, his bitch face out in full force.
"Yeah! My street cred!"
Chrissy and Steve share a look. Steve raises and eyebrow and Chrissy shrugs before they look back to Gareth.
"Alright. You're secret is safe with us, Garrington," Chrissy teases.
"Do not!"
"You think people aren't going to put together that you and Chrissy have the same last name?" Steve says, because he's a shithead.
"So? There like 4 Smiths, and none of them are related. It'll be fine."
"True. No one will believe the amazing Chrissy Cunningham is related to the absolute loser Gareth Cunningham."
"Absolute loser! You're a dick, Steve Harrington."
"Yeah, but you know I got your back even if you're a loser."
Gareth doesn't answer. He opens his own soda then, chugging enough to let out his own gross burp for Chrissy to scold him about and Steve to laugh.
It's the summer of 1983 and things can only go up for them all now that they're all in high school together.
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peavhyshy · 2 months
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𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗘 (oneshot)
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader
Summary: In which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to convey his guilt.
Warnings: strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification
Words: 5,130
a/n: It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months
Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 
"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.
"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 
The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"
"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"
The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  
"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  
The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."
"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 
The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.
Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.
"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."
The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"
Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 
One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.
"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 
The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."
"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.
”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”
The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."
She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  
Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.
"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."
Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."
Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."
The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 
"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."
He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.
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You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.
"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.
"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 
Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.
"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 
"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 
"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.
Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."
"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   
The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.
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The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 
Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 
"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."
"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  
Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"
You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"
"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 
"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 
"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."
You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  
Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 
Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 
"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 
"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 
You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."
Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.
Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.
Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.
"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.
You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.
"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 
"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."
Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.
You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."
Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"
You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?
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Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.
"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"
He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.
"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 
“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.
You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."
"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."
He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."
You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.
"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."
You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."
"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.
You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.
Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.
You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.
Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."
You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.
"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."
You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."
Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.
"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.
You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.
"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..
"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.
Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.
"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.
Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.
"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.
Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.
His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.
"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.
"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."
You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"
Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.
"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.
"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.
He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.
"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.
You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.
"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.
You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.
A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.
As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.
You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.
"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.
You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.
"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…
You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.
"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.
"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."
You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…
With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.
"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.
Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."
He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.
You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.
You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.
To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.
Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.
Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.
"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.
"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.
"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"
Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.
"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.
Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.
But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.
Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.
You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.
You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.
"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.
Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.
"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.
Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.
You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.
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azurevi · 1 year
Text
from the eyes of the beholder
pairing: leona x gn!reader
summary: 5 times others know that leona is head over heels for you, and the 1 time he acts on it. 7.5k
note: just pure, innocent fluff ❤️ reader = ramshackle prefect
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1.
Jack liked to imagine himself as a somewhat perceptive person, especially with his large ears catching wind of exchanged whispers and his outstanding olfaction that allowed him to pick up distinctive scents. As reserved as he seemed, he tended to watch things from the sidelines and keep note of different people's quirks and whatnots, and so more often than not he would surprise others with his hidden knowledge and observations. All in all, he knew quite well about people around him.
Or so he thought, because whatever was unfolding in front of his widened eyes was making him doubt all his previous judegements about his much respected dorm leader. 
It was mid-afternoon with the sun hanging high in the sky, burning with murderous intent. Jack, having had the misfortune to be the first student spotted by Crewel, was tasked to 'bring him the disobedient cat who would rather sleep than attend his lessons'. Jack recalled the places Ruggie would go to find Leona and found himself in the botanic garden in no time, eyes scanning the lush green and distracting flowers. He smelled his presence first, then noticed something else mixed in that woody scent.
His confusion only grew when he recognized its owner, who was none other than the prefect of Ramshackle. The trail led him to a spot shielded by a thick canopy of banana leaves, and right underneath was Leona, serenely asleep and– wait, is he sleeping on the prefect's lap? And is that their hand in his hair?
Jack blinked. He wasn't hallucinating.
Your face brightened in recognition when he finally shuffled close enough. "Hey Jack! Here to check on the cacti?"
"...No," despite his initial shock, his voice gave nothing away. Leona spared him one glance before promptly closing his eyes again. "Crewel asked me to bring Leona to class, but… what are you doing here?"
As if just now realizing yourself, you removed your fingers from Leona's silky hair, earning a dissatisfied huff. "Your dorm leader here caught me passing by and made me his personal pillow. I haven't moved from this position for hours."
Jack hoped that you were only exaggerating about the time, but frankly he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to care. For one, the painfully arrogant, prideful, and self-assured prince was resting his head on your lap and letting you thread your fingers through his locks? The Leona who would scowl and glower whenever someone so much as brushed against his tail? The Leona who would bite someone's arm off before ever giving them the idea that he could be anything less than almighty, let alone soft?
"Just tell Crewel you failed. I'm not about to ruin my nap to brew stupid potions," Leona stated, stubborn as usual.
"No way, I'm not missing my classes so that you can have your fun in dreamland. Get up!" You nudged him. No movement. "Jack, can you help me drag him off?"
Before the poor boy could take a step, Leona growled. "Don't you dare. Just give me ten more minutes, damn it."
"That's the third time you've said it." You deadpanned, to which he responded with a half-hearted hum. Seeing as he wasn't moving any time soon, your shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'll bring him over as soon as the ten minute mark passes."
It was less than ideal to have to go back to Crewel empty-handed, but there was no convincing Leona when he was hell-bent on doing something. With a defeated sigh, Jack nodded. "I'll be relying on you then, prefect."
If there was one person in NRC who could be deemed trust-worthy, it had to be you. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back before bidding goodbye.
In reality, didn't leave right away. He knew that he shouldn't intrude on his friend's life (let alone his senior's), but curiosity got him in a chokehold. Besides, he needed to make sure that you wouldn't get your wrist torn off if you tried anything else.
"It's quite unfair, actually," you mumbled. "All you do is lie around all day, how do you even pass your classes?"
"Everything the school’s teaching, I’ve already learned back home." Leona's mouth curled into a smirk. "What, are you jealous?"
"As if," you rolled your eyes. As if out of habit, you started smoothing his mane out again. With each gentle stroke, Leona's face relaxed into a peaceful expression, and his ears twitched in what Jack could only identify as delight. You must've noticed it too, because something akin to interest flitted across your feature. Jack's stomach dropped. He had seen that look many times before, and it was a telltale sign of trouble. 
After only a bit of hesitation, your outstretched hand moved to touch Leona's fluffy ear. That's it, Jack thought. You'd done it– poked at the hornet’s nest, shoved your hand inside a tiger’s yawning mouth, threw yourself into a river filled with piranhas. It was nice knowing you. There was no way you were going to get away with this.
Leona's eyes shot open, his nose scrunched in annoyance. "Careful where you touch, herbivore."
"Fine. My bad," you removed your hand with great reluctance, returning to dedicate your attention to his hair. The moment carried on as if nothing had happened, and within seconds Leona was already snoring.
What the hell was that. Jack swiveled on his heels and let his legs lead him away. In his head was only thoughts darting around, trying to make sense of why exactly Leona acted so differently towards you. The fact that he had you stay during his sleeping time was already out of character enough, but to let you off after you touched his ear, one of the most sensitive parts of a beastman's body? 
There could be something going on here. Jack had a hunch on what it was, but he didn't feel like jumping to conclusions just yet. For now, he should just sit and watch.
At the end of the day, he got caught by Crewel again. It turned out that Leona never showed up for his lesson after all.
2.
It was a breezy afternoon, but for Epel it was hotter than ever on the sports ground. The Magift Club was having its routine training, and everyone was dedicating their best even though it wasn't a real tournament.
His own heartbeat was the only thing he could hear as he dashed towards the opposing team's goal, the golden disk hovering right beside him. Yells and heavy steps followed him, but he was determined not to let his legs give out. Eagerness lurched inside his throat as the net neared, and he angled his arm to throw the disk–
-- only to get thrown off balance by a gust of wind. He landed on his butt with a groan, and looked up to see the disk in the possession of one Savanaclaw student. Cursing under his breath, he swatted the dirt off his knees and dived into action again.
After some more intense chasing and magic being thrown around, he headed with the rest of the team towards the benches, where Leona was sprawled out on a chair, sharp eyes heavy-lidded and coated with sleep. It wouldn't be a surprise if he turned out to have slept through the entire match.
"... Your weakness is that you only know how to charge forward." Leona commented just as Epel was about to take a sip from his water bottle. "You can't improve if you never learn how to look out for ambushes."
"Ah… thank you."
Alright, so maybe he hadn't been out for the count after all. Nonchalantly, Leona shifted into a more comfortable position, his face angled away from Epel. Even if he came off as detached and uncaring most of the time, there were occasions where he would give out short yet valuable advice and prove that he had been keeping an eye on his members. Epel only hoped that he could see the renowned player in action more often. Sadly, it only happened once in a blue moon.
"Ah, look who's here," Ruggie said. Epel followed his gaze and spotted you walking across the field, holding a paper bag large enough to topple you. It wasn't rare that you would drop by and visit. In fact, most of them had been looking forward to you and swarmed you with warm welcomes (presumably because they knew you were hiding snacks in that bag, but Epel decided not to comment on that when his stomach was rumbling too).
"Where's Leona?" You asked once you've given Ruggie a bag of donuts. The grinning hyena jutted his head to the side, "Lazing around as usual. Wanna stay and watch us play?"
You arched your head back and scanned the clock above the rows of seats. "Sure, I have some time to kill." You gave him a thumbs up and made your way towards the chairs at the front. 
Epel watched as you kicked Leona's chair to wake him up. He was too far away to hear whatever you were talking about, but you looked pretty close, chatting away with an exchanged chuckle here and there. Even though Leona still looked sleep-laden, he rested his head on his fist and kept his eyes on you the whole time.
One was his club leader, and the other was his close friend. He was starting to wonder how you two had become so close when Ruggie threw his arm around his frame. "Time for round two! What, you still haven't finished the cookies? Need some help?"
Epel quickly shoved them inside his mouth. "No fran qu (no thank you)!"
Everyone had already spread out in two teams when Leona promptly stood up from his humble 'throne' and stepped onto the field. "Wait. You, swap with me."
The second-year student in question pointed at himself and blinked. 
Leona frowned. "Do I need to repeat myself?" 
"N-no!" The student ran off with his tail literally between his legs. Epel's eyes followed the man as he made his way to the front of the opposing team, stretching his muscled limbs. 
The match started as soon as you blew the whistle. If Leona actually getting on the field was out of the ordinary, then him putting effort in playing was enough to leave one flabbergasted and dumbfounded. He didn't even have to lift a finger to weave his way through the wall of opponents. Yet, as Epel watched on, he couldn't help but feel both amazed and startled at the same time. 
Amazed, because Leona really lived up to his name as one of the top players among the long list of magic schools. He was quick on his feet, never letting anyone so much as touch the hem of his shirt as he flashed past defenses. In fact, his moves were so unpredictable and fast that whatever formations that had been discussed dissolved within moments as everyone scrambled to block him. But that was not all– he was tactical. One moment he was making others chase him so that he could sweep them away with one single hit, the other he was planting traps on the ground and sneering as they fell victim. It was like he could predict everyone's move.
There was no chance of beating him even if he had his eyes closed all the way. Though Epel's eyes were trained on the lone figure, he could hear your voice booming across the field.
"Ruggie! Epel! Go get him!"
"Ugh, I'm trying!" Epel clenched his jaw and rushed forward, shouting as he prepared to launch a sneak attack from behind– then Leona turned his head and smirked.
It only took fifteen minutes for Leona to render everyone useless. Epel dragged himself towards the benches and dropped himself carelessly, limbs sprayed out as he tried to catch his breath.
"Did you have to go that harsh on them?" You said as Leona returned with nary a bead of sweat. There was a touch of playful reprimand in your voice.
"They need to be humbled once in a while lest they become too full of themselves." 
You two moved somewhere else, the air carrying your words away. The temporary silence was replaced by Ruggie's wheezes. "Jeez- lemme catch my breath. That was hell."
"I know right," Epel answered weakly. "Do you think Leona-san joined because we weren’t doing good enough?"
"Please, he wouldn't bother," there were sounds of a paper bag being rustled. A moment later, Ruggie spoke up again, this time with food in his mouth. "The answer is pretty simple, actually. Why do you think he worked so hard out there?"
"...He wanted to kick our asses?"
"Nah, that's too much trouble. If he wanted to kick your ass he would've asked me to do it." Epel wasn't sure what to feel about that information. "The truth is- he just wanted to show off, duh."
Epel craned his head so he was facing Ruggie. "Show off? To whom?"
"C'mon. Just see for yourself."
He did as told, scanning the place and eventually spotting you still talking to Leona, this time playfully shoving at his arm at something he had said. There was this look on his face that Epel couldn't put a name to. He'd seen it on someone else though: Sebek as he gushed about Malleus, Rook as he read a magazine with Vil's face printed on the cover, Cater when he came across something Magicam-worthy. Epel knew exactly what these displayed feelings were, but then it would mean that–
"Leona-san worked us to the bone just so he could impress the prefect?" Epel all but barked out the accusation. Ruggie giggled at his reaction and shrugged, leaving the boy even more exasperated. That wasn't really the point, but irritance was clouding his senses at that time. It was only until he was back in his room and lying in bed that he would start to connect the dots and let out a loud, stunned gasp.
3.
The café near NRC had been flooded with customers all day, and the queue only lengthened as time passed. Cater squeezed his dry eyes shut, having scrolled on his phone the whole time he was waiting outside. 
Ever since a famed influencer on Magicam had complimented this café in a post, it had been getting all the hype. Cater couldn’t miss out on the fun, even if everything on the menu was too saccharine for his liking.
After what felt like millennia, he finally got inside the shop. It looked like pink had vomited all over the walls, but it should look aesthetic enough for the folks on Magicam. Cater spotted a vacant seat by the window and rushed towards it. From the corner of his eyes he could see a man heading in the same direction. 
“Shit-“ the man cussed as he tripped. 
“Ah, my bad.” Cater raised his hands and stepped away. The man muttered something under his breath and looked up. The seat had already been taken by the… same man that had just run into him?
Cater chuckled quietly as the man looked around the shop, then back at him again. His unique magic really came in handy sometimes.
He ordered the most famous dishes and turned to his phone again. Perhaps he would give them to those adorable first-years later, or just send them all to Trey.
After a while, even the endless scrolling came to an end. Cater pressed on the home button and waited for the page to refresh. Emerald eyes wandered lazily around the room, rounding when he caught sight of a familiar figure.
If it was any other person, Cater would’ve thought that his eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistaking those ears and long tail. That was definitely Leona Kingscholar, standing in queue with his hands shoved inside his pockets. Much like Cater, he was still in school uniform, and the look of irritance on his face made him stand out like a sore thumb in this sugary world.
Just what could he be doing here? Cater knew that the man wasn’t particularly into sweets and pastries. He definitely wasn’t one to follow trends either. Not to mention that he had zero media presence… unless he had a private account?
Leona’s tail flicked. The man in front of him suddenly crossed his foot in front of the other and stumbled out of the queue. Leona quickly stepped up and silenced whatever the man was going to say with a glare.
In the corner of the café, Ruggie’s shoulders shook with laughter.
Even with underhand methods, there was only so much the two could do to shorten the waiting time. It took another fifteen minutes for them to finally get to the counter. Cater watched with intrigue as the barista stuffed two well-loved red velvet cakes into a white box and handed it to Leona. 
Ruggie quickly finished one of them as soon as he got his hands on it, and Cater read ‘worth the effort’ from his lips movement. The two left with the untouched piece sitting peacefully inside the box.
Well, that was something. Cater shook his head and started snapping pictures of the desserts that had arrived moments ago. To think that Leona of all people would wait in line just for a piece of cake… his thoughts went on as he mindlessly typed out a caption. Could it have been for someone else ?
Nah. No way. He couldn’t imagine Leona ever lifting a finger for anyone other than himself. 
Night was already creeping on the horizon by the time he finally finished posting. The walk back school was accompanied by more scrolling. The prefect’s profile icon popped up in the ‘story’ section. Cater clicked in without a second thought.
It was a photo of a red velvet cake. The red velvet cake. The text above it read ‘pleasant surprise from an unlikely party!’ 
Within moments, he was already scanning the entire photo like a detective. There, in the right corner, was a tail. No doubt about it. And he knew the tail— he had just watched its owner spend nearly half an hour lining up in the cafe.
"Now isn't this an interesting discovery…?" Mischief passed over his eyes for a split second, his legs picking up the pace. It seemed that desserts wouldn't be the only thing he would be delivering today.
4.
It was nothing out of the norm for Leona to spend Monday afternoons napping under the tall apple tree. In fact, he went there so routinely that he might as well become one with the background. 
Today, though, something had changed. Or as Rook would call it, love was in the air, because under the tree were two figures in lieu of one.
You were sitting cross-legged against the trunk, sheets laid out around you like a protective shield. Every once in a while, Leona’s tail would mess them up, and if you berated him he would feign innocence.
“Come on Leona, you’re the only one who can help me with this.” You nudged his knee.
Rook squinted, his eyes locking onto the documents. There, on the top of what seemed to be the cover page, read ‘Sunset Savanna’.
Ah, a history project then.
“Ask Ruggie.”
“I would if he wasn’t busy doing your duties. So you’re stuck with me.”
Leona made a low grumbling noise, but Rook noted that his face showed no sigh of annoyance. How unfair! The first few times Rook approached the beastman during his nap, he received nothing less than distasteful glares and venomous threats.
One more evidence supporting his hypothesis.
“Fine. You have five minutes to ask questions.”
A smile bloomed on your face, one that Leona didn’t fail to catch. It was only a flash, easily overlooked, but Rook saw it crystal clear— the subtle tenderness intruding on his scowl. It disappeared as quickly as it’d come.
“Alright. So what’s Sunset Savannah like?”
“Hot.”
You heaved a sigh. “You’re not cooperating here.”
“Maybe your questions are too vague, herbivore.”
“Ugh- fine! Let’s start with the people. Do you guys have a mascot or something?”
Leona shifted so he was lying on his side, left arm propped up with his head resting on his palm. “There’s this warthog and meerkat everyone loves. They’re supposed to be related to the King of Beasts. Personally though, I couldn't care less.”
"How about something that cannot be found anywhere else?”
“Mm. Hot spring eggs,”
“You guys have hot springs?” With the way your eyes twinkled with interest, Leona couldn’t help but give in.
“No, it’s a volcano…”
Your ‘interview’ stretched out for far longer than five minutes, eventually jumping from general knowledge to Leona’s own experience with the place he grew up at. 
“Sure, the sunset is beautiful, but the real show begins when night falls. All kinds of stars come out, perfect for sentimental beings like you.”
“I don’t believe that you’ve never looked at them before.” You challenged.
Leona scoffed, reaching to scratch the back of his ear. “Only as a kid. It gets boring.”
“The privilege is showing, your highness,” you sighed wistfully, angling your head so you were gazing at the bright sky. “I wish we had stars here too.”
“If you really want to see them, I can bring you there next time.” 
Your face lightened up. 
“Of course, it comes with a price.”
You rolled your eyes. “And what will it be?”
A dismissive hum. “I’ll decide later.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it then.” You started packing your things, missing the way Leona’s tail swished. Even if you had noticed, you probably wouldn’t have understood what it meant. Rook tittered into his palm as he watched on.
“Leaving so soon? I expected more questions,” Leona said. 
“I'd rather not get on your bad side by keeping you away from your precious nap. I’ll come to you if I need anything—“ your words were interrupted with a sharp hiss. In your careless movements, the paper managed to slice through your skin, leaving a stinging cut.
Leona picked up the smell immediately, his eyes trained on your finger. The slit was unnoticeable at first, but red eventually started to bloom around it. 
“Tsk. How careless are you?” He jumped onto his feet and snatched your hand, observing the cut. Your eyes danced between his face and the wound, much like a flustered rabbit. 
“It's just a cut.” You started, trying to hide your hand. But his grip on you was strong, albeit not enough to hurt. 
“No it's not. You could get an infection and end up troubling me again. I’ll get you bandaged up.” He began walking with his hand still holding your wrist, pulling you along. 
You took advantage of the situation and dived into another round of questions for your project, and Leona, irritated that he might seem, answered them accordingly.
As the two of you neared the building Rook was in, his eyes suddenly shot up, practically shooting daggers at a particular window.
“What’s it?” You stood on your tiptoes. There was no one behind the glass.
His features remained hardened for a moment before he relaxed his shoulders. “…Nothing. You were sayin’?” 
Rook waited a few seconds to reemerge again. Although you’d already vanished from sight, he had already gathered all that he needed: the lion had been captivated by none other than the magic-less prefect, and he barely needed his instincts and observations as a hunter to confirm that.
5.
It wasn’t that you hated group work. If anything, you enjoyed having someone share the workload. But when your group mates were none other than the red & blue duo from Heartslabyul plus a cat-shaped trouble magnet, you would really rather be left alone. 
“We should make a body swapping potion. I bet it’ll be fun if Riddle and Floyd exchanged personalities.” Ace suggested with that look of his that often preceded undesired circumstances. You were heading to your next class along with the wave of students in the corridor.
“Can you please take this test seriously? I can’t get another fail!” Deuce slapped the back of Ace’s head, causing the redhead to stagger forward. A few students turned their heads around in curiosity, but most were already familiar with the two's antics.
Crewel had given each group the mission to brew from scratch one of the potions mentioned in the textbook as a part of the term test, not knowing what a mistake it was to leave the power of decision-making to you lot.
“How about a potion that can make all food taste like Tuna?” Grim asked, tail brushing your neck as he perched himself on your shoulder.
“Just ask Trey to do that for you.” You commented, not bothering to look up from the testbook in your hands.
“You’re right, henchman! Let’s go right now!”
“Focus on the test first, will you?” Ace was the one to complain this time, earning a hiss from Grim.
“Let’s narrow it down to potions that are easy to make. It’ll be more convenient if the ingredients can be acquired in the botanical garden.” Deuce went around the bickering duo to peek over your shoulder.
The mention of the botanical garden reminded you of a certain lazy lion. Being caught up in the test had kept you from meeting Leona in your free time. In fact, you hadn’t seen him for a whole week already. It didn’t help that he was in another year and had entirely different classes.
Perhaps you could pay him a visit later, but it’s not as if he would miss you or something. A foreign sadness crept up on you. You shook the thought off and opted to focus on the book instead.
It seemed that fate preferred otherwise, because a gust of wind carried Ruggie's laughter to you, followed by a gruntle from– speak of the devil– Leona. Your eyes were already searching for him through the passing crowd before you could contain your curiosity. The lurch in your chest told a lot more than you were willing to admit.
Leona, on the contrary, didn't need to search at all. His sharp eyes landed on you with infallible precision, as unreadable as ever. If it had been anyone else, you would've raised your hand and greeted them with energy, but this was the same person who once walked past you as though you were a mere stranger, leaving your open palm hanging in the air. As an attempt to preserve your dignity, you decided to avert your eyes.
Anyways, since when did Leona of all people go to classes?
Your heartbeat succumbed to a deafening rhythm the closer he got. Half hopeful and half desperate to suppress it, you held your breath the moment he was close enough that your shoulders touched.
As expected, he did not greet or even address you in any way. But there was something soft touching your cheek, the suddenness making your eye twitch in surprise. It caressed your face almost gently before cool air took its place.
You turned just in time to catch Leona's tail retreating.
Engrossed in the contents of the book, you missed all the meaningful gazes being shot around by your friends. Ace and Deuce had been at it for some time, while Grim pretended to understand. 
Deuce was positive that he wasn’t on the same channel as Ace. Just earlier, when he’d caught Leona’s tail poking your face, he shot a quick look at Ace. A raised brow, a glance towards you, then back to Ace. It was supposed to mean ‘Did you catch that?’, and Ace took it as ‘Wanna ambush the prefect?’
The resulted mayhem when Ace tackled you was something you never wanted to bring up again.
Now Deuce wasn’t sure what went on between you and the fearsome leader of Savanaclaw, but Ace had an idea or two. Epel and Jack had both commented offhandedly about the weird atmosphere that surrounded you two. Deuce was present both times, but it'd probably flew right over his head.
Deuce wriggled his brows. Do you have any idea? 
Ace mirrored him. Dude, what even is that supposed to mean? 
Grim’s feigned participation was cut short when he caught sight of two familiar figures entering the canteen. “Hey! What is that sleepyhead doing here?”
All three of you snapped your heads towards the entrance. There stood the spotlight of their discussion, Leona, in his usual rumpled form, half-awake daze, sharp fangs catching the chandelier’s light as he yawned. 
“First he heads to class, now he’s coming to the canteen himself. What’s up with that guy?” Grim gasped dramatically. “Is he plotting something again?”
“He’s not,” you came to his defense with suspicious rapidness. “Plus, what is there to plot about?”
“Mm. You have a point, henchman.” 
“Alright,” Ace held his fist out. “Loser buys lunch. Rock paper scissors!”
Grim let out a shrill laugh as Deuce stared at his sole open palm in defeat. It wasn’t your fault that he only ever played paper. 
While your cat proceeded to go off on a tangent the today's menu, you gazed over at the growing masses of students. 
“So,” Ace craned his head. “Have you chosen the potion or are we going with body swapping?”
“Or the tuna one!”
“Neither.” You tore your eyes away and turned the book around. “We’re making a flower-growing potion—“
They groaned loudly.
“—because it’s easy to make. Do you want to pass or not?” You insisted.
“I would rather be well-fed! Flowers are stu- FNNGA!”
Grim jumped a good feet in the air when someone slammed their lunch on your table, his fur standing tall in alert. Leona sank onto Deuce’s seat, while Ruggie took the spot next to Ace. “You should try to be gentler, Leona-san.”
Before the lion could answer, Grim stood up and yelled, “Hey! That’s Deuce’s seat!”
“Yea? He’s tiny enough to squeeze in somewhere.” Leona said nonchalantly. There was a curiously excessive amount of meat in his dish. After a beat, he turned to you. “What’re you up to?”
Ace resisted the urge to tell him off, preferring to indulge in your interaction to preserve Deuce’s interests.
“Potion test. What, have you missed me?” 
“A lil’ bit.”
That seemed to catch you off-guard. Ace snorted in his attempt to hold in a laugh, and received a kick under the table from Ruggie.
As you tried to come up with a response, he leaned in and grabbed your book. “Making something?”
“The one for growing flowers. Its ingredients are the easiest to find.”
“Ah. I know where you can find them in the botanical garden. I’ll show you later.” He closed the book and slid it across the table.
“Wouldn’t I be invading your precious rest?”
“Then you’ll just have to catch up and be quick.”
Just then, Deuce returned with an expression twisted between confusion and betrayal. Ace barely felt guilt-- there were many things he had to discuss with Deuce (and Grim, though he seemed ignorant).
For now, he just let the pouting boy squeeze in beside him and quietly observed Leona and you throughout lunch, utilizing whatever knowledge he had about love to analyze the situation. He picked up on the way you took Leona’s vegetables without having to ask and how you slapped his hand away when he reached for the meat on your plate. Occasionally he would throw in a snarky comment that aimed to drive you up and wall, and smirk when it succeeded. 
And those looks, sevens. If Ace had to watch for a minute longer he might have to puke in his lunch. He reckoned that he’d already seen enough before turning to address Deuce, who was still hung up on his seat being taken. 
It felt great, holding this kind of knowledge over you. If he played his cards right, he might even get some benefits out of it.
“Dude, what’s with that creepy smirk on your face?” Ruggie pointed out suddenly.
Ace shrugged, “Nothing. You’ll know sooner or later.”
6.
Ruggie was the first to know. 
Leona had been upfront and rather transparent about his feelings, but the hyena had long before noticed the shifts in Leona’s attitude towards you. It was hard not to when he was the one kicking him awake and dragging him to class everyday. Leona's actions spoke a lot more than words could, and the occasional passing glances were impossible to ignore.
When Ruggie confronted him about it, he admitted it while making it sound as casual as he could. Ruggie never for a second bought his nonchalance.
And it was great, knowing that his dorm leader wasn’t a stone-cold heartless jerk. It was both leverage and great material for teasing even when Leona would threaten to tape his mouth shut. 
That was until the people came in. First it was Jack, then it was Epel, then the many other friends and acquaintances who wanted first-hand information on Leona’s love life. Even underclassmen whom he’d only seen around campus approached him. At first it was a great source of income— nothing came without a price after all— but when it began to interfere with his work, it didn’t feel so satisfying anymore. 
If Leona would just make it official, it would make Ruggie’s life so much easier. But no, that lion was so stubborn that he hadn’t even confessed his feelings yet. And he doubted that you were any wiser. 
Now Ruggie knew better than to stick his nose where he didn’t belong. There were countless ways in which things could go wrong and he really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Leona’s wrath. Yet if they went right, he could get those nosy students off his back and end the torture of seeing you dance around each other like two dumbasses.
No, he wasn’t concerned about your (or Leona’s, for that matter) love life at all. He just wanted Leona to spend more time with you so he could catch a break. 
Plus it’d put Leona in a good mood, and that’s really all he could ask for.
As usual, Leona’s room was disheveled when Ruggie entered, a chess board lying at the end of the bed while its rightful owner was snoozing, wrapped inside a blanket like a burrito. With light steps he lurked further in, inhaled deeply, and flung the file toward the sleeping lion with all his might.
Leona’s hand shot out from the blanket and caught the document mid-air. “What did I say about interrupting my naps, Bucchi?”
“That I should never wake you even if the sky’s falling down?”
As Leona stretched his limbs after the satisfying rest, the bed seemed to shrink in comparison. “You better have a good reason then.” He said mid-yawn, opening the file to read the papers inside. He was supposed to pick them up from Crowley, but decided that they weren’t important enough to warrant his presence.
Well, here goes nothing. “I take it that you haven’t heard then.”
“Heard what.” 
“That the prefect is leaving soon,” Ruggie walked around the room to pick up the miscellaneous items on the floor, unfazed under the lion’s relentless glare. “Crowley found a way to send them back to wherever they came from. They’ve already started packin’, emptying the building and all.”
The silence was heavy. A heavy cloak of tension draped over the room. 
“No,” Leona turned in his bed. “If they really were leaving, they would’ve told me.”
“Yea, but why?” Ruggie pushed, stifling a titter at the way Leona's tail swayed to and fro in growing agitation. “It’s not like you’re close or anything.”
Leona opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. A laugh startled out of him. “You’re fucking with me, Bucchi. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
"Whatever, man. I've said all I have to say." Ruggie took a peek of his meticulously concealed expression. It didn't matter that he wouldn't believe it now. He'd planted a fear in his heart, and fear was a vicious, powerful thing. He did one more round around the room, decided that Leona wasn't going to say anything else, and headed for the door. 
“Y’know, I’m just saying, but we don’t know when, or  if they will come back, so maybe you should get off that— okay! Stop throwing shit at me! ” Ruggie scurried out with his tail between his legs, cursing under his breath. 
“The things I do for these dumbasses… they better pay me ten donuts if it works– no, twenty!”
The blanket was starting to feel constricting. Leona kicked it off of him and reluctantly opened his eyes, now wide awake and ruminating on what Ruggie had just said.
You're leaving.
He rolled over and turned on his phone– something he almost never did. There were over a hundred unread emails and messages, mostly from home, but he ignored them all and found your contact after some scrolling. The last time you'd texted had been about his absence at the prefects' meeting, and he'd left you on read. In fact, the conversations were mostly one-way, with occasional 'ok's and insincere emojis dispersed on his side of the screen. 
It wasn't that you didn't talk a lot. You usually met up in person, and if he really needed you, he could just call you, though that was not an usual occurrence.
"It's not like you're close or anything." 
His eyes flew up to your status. Last online: 6 hours ago. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, then retreated. 
So what if you were really leaving? It shouldn't matter to him. You were just someone he tolerated more than most, and he'd known from the beginning that you didn't belong here. There had always been an expiration date on your stay. The horror of you suddenly vanishing from his life shouldn't be this hollowing. 
But it was very, very hollowing, and very, very real. Perhaps a part of him had always thought that everything would stay the same– you and him here, where he was far enough from home that he could forget his empty, meaningless title as the second prince, the unwanted son, where he could rest knowing that nothing, and no one, could take you away from him. 
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was nothing he could do, and he was destined to lose you the way he'd lost everything he'd ever wanted to someone else.
Or maybe– there was a tiny voice at the back of his head– maybe he still wanted to try and fight against it, as pointless as it sounded. Deep down, he only knew two things: that he would never forgive himself if he just let you slip away, and that you were always worth trying for.
Stupid herbivore, always planting this stupid hope in his heart. 
He all but hopped off the bed, and pointedly ignored Ruggie's smirk as he made a run for the mirror chamber.
Trapped on all sides with arms so sore you could barely lift them up, you reckoned that the decision to deal with all this by yourself was a great mistake.
There was old and new furniture occupying the spaces around you, and some more that were stuck on the porch, all demanding your attention. You’d naively thought that the unpacking and moving would take no time. And now it was dusk already, and you’d barely gone through half of the deliveries. 
After what had probably been months of requesting and protesting, Crowley finally allowed you to buy some new furniture for your dorm with the school’s money. It’d felt like winning a long, taxing battle, finally able to bid farewell to the drawers that wouldn’t open and the chairs that wobbled. 
It was all fine until the furniture came. You’d been in class when the driver rang, and by the time you returned, he'd already left, leaving the heavy boxes outside the door. 
Perhaps you really should’ve called some friends from Savanaclaw that were strong enough to help. Jack, for one. Maybe even the unmotivated dorm leader. Anyone would be a much better help than Grim, really, who was probably outside the building trying to claw his way into the unopened boxes. 
In the midst of your wallowing, you failed to pick up Grim’s sharp yell, only the slam of the front door that shook the whole building. A scolding formed on your tongue, but quickly dissolved when you heard heavy footsteps come up the stairs. Squeezing your way through the furnishings, you poked your head out of your room and waited.
The stomps came closer, stopped. A pause later, Leona came around the corner, mane disheveled and eyes flying around, almost in panic. When they landed on you, his shoulders sank in relief.
“Leona? Wh-”
“Thank the sevens,” He marched up to you in a few strides, and when he’s close enough, his arms suspended in the air, reaching for a part of you that he could touch. After a long moment, he stuck them back to his sides. 
Emerald eyes landed on the disastrous scene inside the room, especially the emptied shelves and belongings piled in a corner. Something strained passed over his features.
Once you got over the initial shock, you remembered what you’d just been thinking of. “Hey, now that you're here, do you think you can help me move-”
“Don’t leave.”
You blinked. “What?”
He clicked his tongue in annoyance, brows knitted in a frown. “Don’t make me say it again… I can’t believe you decided to keep me in the dark.”
You looked inside the room and back at him. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“What if it is for me?” With a gentle hesitation that you’d never seen him exhibit, he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped when he brought your knuckles to his lips, his gaze solely focused on you. He’d always loved lingering around your personal space, but not like this. Not with his feelings being put on display, like a show you weren’t supposed to see.
“I came here in such a rush that I didn’t even have time to think over what to say. Just…” he closed his eyes. “Reconsider your leave. Please. Or at the very least, stay for a few more weeks. You can’t just stumble into my life and leave without a sign. I don’t even want to imagine returning to a life without you. For this once, I need you to choose me.” 
And then, as if realizing his unusual display of vulnerability, his face hardened up. “...Look, I rarely ask anything of anyone. Whatever deadly grip you have on me, you gotta be responsible for it.”
You sucked in a breath, processing his abrupt spill of feelings, before lowering your head. For a moment he took the trembling of your shoulders as you crying, but soon enough he recognized the peals of laughter that fell out of you. If he hadn’t just laid his heart out in front of you, he would’ve taken the time to indulge in the sound that he loved so much.
“Is this funny?” He scowled.
“Mm. No,” you jutted your head towards your room. “Did you think I was leaving?”
Confusion passed over his face. “Of course. You have everything packed, and Crowley…”
He trailed off, the gears in his head turning. Suddenly it all became clear to him. The new stuff laying around. The absence of your clingy friends. The simple fact that no one seemed to know that you were 'leaving'. After a moment, something akin to fury dawned on his expression. “…has never actually been helpful. Damn it, Bucchi.”
Your heart dipped when he removed his hand from around your wrist, ruffling his long locks. “Just a house makeover then. Got it. Forget about it. Bye.”
“Wait, no!” You rushed in front of him, blocking his exit. “What about all the stuff you just said?”
He raised a brow, feigning ignorance, and earned a roll of your eyes, “Well, I’m not letting them slide. I’m not going anywhere, at least not yet.” You thought for a moment. “The truth is, I haven’t decide if I want to leave. I’ve built so much around here that it’ll just be like leaving another home. But if it soothes you, I’m sure the day I have to choose is still far away from us. So, in the meantime…” You reached for his hand in the same manner, kissing the knot of his knuckle. His ears twitched, giving away his carefully concealed emotions. “Let me be responsible for the turmoils in your heart?”
“About damn time.” Leona moved in, this time landing the kiss on your lips, and his smile spread into it easily, like a lovesick lover returning home.
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Like what you see // F.W
Summary: A summer beneath the heat allows you to bask in your pent-up feelings for Fred Weasley. But there's something holding you back. Is it really that wrong to fall for your best friends brother
Universe: Harry Potter
Rating: Mature
Warnings: a few spicy shots of Fred
Blue skies filled the air, clouds were nowhere to be seen. The flowers sought water as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quick to replenish their soil, and the garden gnomes longed for shade as they huddled beneath a leafy tree. The blazing sun sent everyone into a heat stroke, but it was nothing like the effects of Fred Weasley.
You watched as he launched a quaffle through Ron's hoop, his muscles flexing as he did so. His forehead was lined up in a bead of sweat, while his large hands gripped the broomsticks, his smooth, toned abdomen perfectly glistening beneath the sun. He was quick to tug off his shirt when the game had first begun, leaving nothing to your imagination. It was rather annoying that one look from him was all you needed to send your heart rate sky high. You couldn't help but stare, his quidditch physique body was fucking perfect.
Faint laughter pulled you out from your daze as you finally turned around to find the culprits. Ginny and Hermione were giggling like mad at the sight of you. You felt your face grow warm, not doubting that you were a bright sade of pink.
"Ron's not gonna be real happy, Ginny teased, sipping on her glass of sweet tea.
Hermione began to laugh, "Seriously, y/n his older brother?"
"What in merlins name are you two on about?" You almost winced, you were a terrible liar.
"Don't be daft, y/n you were practically drooling" Ginny chimed, falling into another chim as your face turned blood red. You were positive you looked sunburnt by now.
"What's so funny?" Ron exclaimed, joining the three of you with his broom in his hand. The game was officially over, and the twins were sure to follow.
You sent daggers to Ginny's way.
"Probably your shitty plays," George mused, ruffling Ron's hair until it stood up from all ends. You noticed Hermione's cheeks like she wasn't exactly subtle either.
"I'll race you lot to the showers!" Another voice called out.
You froze right on the spot, your eyes darting everywhere but the sexy man before you. You cleared your throat, trying to return all of your senses back to your body. It was not working.
Ron's eyebrows thread together. He tilted his head to the side, asking you if you were alright. You nodded quickly, prompting him to continue his silent interrogation.
You felt his eyes burning holes into your forehead, praying to Merlin that Ginny would keep her face shut.
"Kids! Time for dinner!" Molly called, beckoning you all inside through the window.
You sucked in a breath when Fred stretched as Fred stretched, beginning to pull his shirt back on over his head. You felt your knees buckle.
Then suddenly, you were speeding through the tall grass, ignoring the confused looks that were bound to take place behind you.
Ron scratched his head as he watched you enter the burrow, growing more confused when his sister toppled over in laughter.
"What the bloody hell is going on?"
You found yourself, sighing finally content under the ruby sheets of Ginny's bed. Her walls were covered in posters, many of which featured the Chudley Cannons and the Holyhead Harpies. You also spotted The Cranberries and other muggle bands that Hermione introduced you too. There wasn't an inch of wall that was left bare.
Chatting with the girls had been going well. They seemed to have forgotten about the events of the afternoon, indulging in their shared bag of sweets while also discussing their plans for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. But when three readheads had decided to join you, two of which being the identical twins, you felt your heart begin to race once more.
Ron took the seat next to you, slightly offering you one of his chocolate frogs. You took it gratefully, sending him a smile in thanks. You could always rely on your best friend.
Sitting quietly between them all, you kept to yourself as they made conversation. You knew that if you opened your mouth even just an inch all eyes would be on you. After the stunt you pulled, you were sure that you would be bombarded with questions. And you did not have a death wish.
You found your eyes studying Fred, who was animatedly chatting with his brother. As usual, he and George seemed very excited to share about one of their newest joke products. You admired the dips and curves of his features, tracing each one of his freckles with your eyes. His smile caused your heart to flutter, and your lips to curve upward as well.
You jumped slightly when his eyes met yours.
His smile turned into a lazy smirk, that of a child who knows just how much trouble they've caused. He didn't look away, keeping his warm gaze on you as though he was enjoying the effect he had. You would have turned away, but the fear, the fear that was bubbling up in your chest left you panicking in your place. You were although rather glad when George wacked Fred up the side of his head.
"Oi!" Fred groaned, turning to his twin brother. "What was that for you git?"
"Ronald here, was asking you a question," George teased. You didn't miss the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he sent you. He was obviously amused.
Ron repeated his question. "How do you plan on opening the shop?"
"We've got tricks up our sleeves Ronniekins. Don't you even worry about us"
You giggled as Fred ruffled Ron's shaggy hair. Hiding in your blush as you munched on another chocolate frog. But you didn't miss the grin that Fred had sent you.
And unbeknownst to you, neither did Ron.
It had been five days. Five days of just sitting by the pond and admiring his soaking wet hair. Five days of staying up late after bed, just to hear Fred strumming on his guitar from across the hall. Five days of Fred's merciless, taunting, beautiful honey brown gaze.
You thought you would be a goner by now. Practically dropping dead when you caught him exiting the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.
But here you are, still living and breathing. Under the same roof as Fred Weasley.
You leaned your head into your palm, thinking hard before making your move on the chess board before you. You were seated uncomfortably on the living room floor, Ron on the other end while anxiously drumming his fingers against the coffee table.
"Queen to ES" you ordered, smiling proudly when you took out his knight. You looked up to bask in his downfall. But you were surprised, Ron didn't look defeated.
"You okay?" You chuckled, noticing the way he vigorously nodded his head. He, too was a shitty liar.
You sent him a knowing look as he manually moved his piece.
"You can be scary sometimes, did you know that?"
You only smiled, watching curiously as he turned around to examine his surroundings. He must have had a huge secret to tell.
"I know," he began, sending you a faint smirk.
You stared at him blankly, slowly tilting your head.
He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I know, I know about Fred."
Your eyes went wide, causing his smirk to grow. You felt as though your limbs had caught fire.
"Fred? What are you talking about, Ron?" You mumbled, ignoring his eyes as you reached to move your knight. Ron stopped you.
"It's okay," he smiled, casually sliding the game to the end of the table. He leaned forward on his elbows.
"If you think that I'm going to stop you, I won't," he continued, "although, it will always bewilder me that Fred, my brother, the boy who farted on the train in our first year, is the bloke you have chosen," He teased.
You spit out a laugh, thinking back on the found memory. 11 year old you would not believe that "Farting Fredrick" had become the most charming boy in all of Hogwarts. He was remembered as the boy who had vandalized the portraits and locked Filch in broom cupboards. But he was no longer the dork who would snuck bogey flavored beans into your Honeydukes bag and he had you falling hard.
"You know he fancies you too?" Ron chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I heard with George last night. He wouldn't shut up about you"
Peering out the window with wide eyes, you found a tall ginger sitting out in the yard. And that was all you needed to hear before racing out the door.
You took a deep breath in when you found him, having to remind yourself to stay calm in his presence. His hair was windswept, reminding you of the many times he would race down the corridors of the school. He seemed deep in thought, making the same twisted face that he would often do when he was designing new prank products. You absolutely adored it.
To your surprise, it wasn't very difficult to see Fred in a new light. It was as though you always thought him to be charming and handsome. Maybe these feelings were locked away somewhere. Or maybe you were just too terrified to let them free.
With a shaky breath, you marched over to his spot on the old, creaky bench.
Fred's eyes shot up, smiling when he found you. It was less cheeky then it usually was. You took that as a good sign.
"Why Hi, there," Fred chuckled, craning his head to get a better look at you, you often hid behind your hair, but he was quick to tuck it away. You felt your face heat immediately. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
You felt a nervous laughter bubble in your chest. "You looked a little lonely."
"You sure you didn't just miss me?" Fred teased, shuffling closer to your side. "I am, of course quite the entertainer."
You rolled your eyes, opting to smile into the evening breeze.
"I have a secret." You mumbled, not daring to face him. "But I'll only tell you if you tell me a secret of your own."
You heard Fred laugh from beside you, feeling a sense of relief when he agreed.
If your theory was correct, and you were praying to Merlin that it was, Fred would confess everything that Ron had heard the night before. And it would be the end of the cat and mouse game.
"One," you began, trying to calm your racing heart. It didn't help that he was staring.
"Two," he continued biting back his smile.
"Three!"
"I can't stop thinking about you!"
"I've fancied you since my third year!"
You felt your eyes go wide, your mouth dropping open as your heart hammered against your chest. You weren't sure if you had heard him right. Since his third year?
And that was it for you two. It seemed as though you each seized the moment, pulling the other impossibility close as you closed the gap between you. It was passionate but soft, the way first kisses should be. And it felt good to finally know the feeling of his broad shoulders and large hands.
It was like he was chiselled by Godric himself.
He pulled back slightly, donning a dreamy smile as he mumbled against your lips, "we have an audience."
Your head whipped around, gasping as you found Ron, Ginny, Hermione and George gossiping through the window. You heard Ron scoff, shouting something along the lines of "if you hurt her I will bloody murder you!" Through the glass.
You giggled like a young school girl, turning to have Fred's breath clash with yours. You could finally admire his honey brown eyes from up close.
"Like what you see?" He smiled pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek.
"Don't worry" he chuckled "I do too"
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zae5 · 4 months
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Heads and Tails
Summary: A lady at court comes to learn that oaths made are seldom broken.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: suggestive themes, gore, mentions of period typical crimes and their punishments, minor character death.
Prev<
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If there was one thing that she could be sure of, it was that her betrothed was always true to his word.
She'd been shifted to new chambers the following morn, her belongings and keepsakes stacked and arranged meticulously as she sat sipping her tea. There was a silence to the day after the previous night, dulling her senses just enough to wash the dread away without dampening the glimmer of excitement in her belly. She knew his visits would now be chaperoned with all the attention they'd drawn to themselves. There would be whispers in the hallways, maids trying to catch a glimpse or get an earful only to be sent scurrying away, page boys peeking about and guards turning their heads ever so slightly in keen observation. The grapevine of the Keep was ever alert and buzzing after a fresh scandal, one only needed a keen sense of perception to know what was afoot.
Much to the dismay of her new retinue, she hadn't had any visitors, only a squire to let her know that Aemond would visit her for dinner. As the day passed and she busied herself with the mundane her thoughts were drawn to her father and how he hadn't visited her once. Had he left already, just as swiftly as the Baratheons? Had he spoken to Aemond? Had he forgiven her boldness or did he still hold on to his anger?
What would her mother think when she heard of it all? She knew she'd stayed behind reluctantly and the news of her only daughter's quick betrothal would add injury to insult. What must she think of her and the circumstances in which all of it had conspired?
The gnawing returned and her hands busied themselves, pulling and weaving rapidly mirroring her own warring thoughts. Threads of green and burnt orange decorated her work, taking a monstrous yet fragile shape as she focussed on the fabric at hand, trying to perfect the image embossed in her head. The first time she'd seen her was magical and it was imperative that it showed in her work. “Where are we going?” he'd hushed her as he put his cloak around her shoulders.
“T’is so thick” she'd complained “Why do I need this”
“For the cold” he'd said. “I shall warm you up regardless, but it'd be better if you wore it.” He'd appraised her afterwards, as she drowned in the navy fabric, before grabbing her hand.
“Come” he'd said as he led her through the winding streets at twilight with the agility of an alley cat. It had been a cool night with a nip in the air when he'd brought her there, bowing in greeting to his other half. She'd lifted her head and sniffed a puff of smoke, gazing at her with eyes as old as eons, shining with judgment, before turning her head away again, much to her dismay.
“She likes you,” he'd said smiling.
“She hardly looked at me”
“Trust me, you'd know if she didn't” he'd responded before hauling her up towards the skies. It was the happiest she'd ever been, to be up with him in the heavens, screaming for joy, wrapped in his arms while he grinned behind her. She'd pestered him then on, to take her with him everytime he went out flying and though it wasn't always possible, he'd obliged twice. “I'll please the old lady next time when she sees you with this, then she'll surely let me come more often, ” she thought to herself as she worked on.
As the threads before her turned from foxtrot to olive, shining warmly in the light of the setting sun, she stretched and looked out the window, before deciding to get ready for dinner. It would be the first they'd share as newly betrothed and she wished to look her very best. He'd entered later just as she was putting on her earrings, marching through the doors in annoyance, quick to dismiss the servants.
“Leave us, we shall dine alone.”
They scurried away from him as he looked at her, his gaze softening before he held out his arms. She smiled rushing to him as he pulled her close.
“It seems someone has missed me.”
“Va moriot” she replied as his eye darkened in pride. (Always)
“Emā issare jollōragon” (You have been studying)
“Mirrī” she replied sheepishly. “Iksan.. trying” she continued embarrassed as he chuckled.
“Sȳz olvie, it seems I shall have to tend to you more” he said leading her to the table.
“How was your day?”, she asked him as they began to eat after their prayer. They'd kept up the tradition in private, her for her faith and a reminder of her ties to home and him for his loyalty to his mother.
“There were things that needed to be settled. We can continue our lessons on the morrow.”
“What about my father? Has he left? I've not been informed nor has there been a note sent to me.”
He put his chalice down in thought as he looked at her.
“He left at dawn, just as I arrived to train. I was informed shortly. He shall return as he's been commanded to, in a fortnight with the rest of your family. Do not worry, they may write to you once he reaches home”
She wrung her hands as he ate, before he reached out to grab them, making her latch on to his own instinctively. His fingers were long and bony and she loved playing with them. She ran her fingers over his knuckles, tracing the callouses from his training and he let her continue her exploration in peace. Her touch was welcome in all ways behind closed doors.
“What is this?”she asked, coming upon a bloodied fingernail.
“A mishap at dawn perhaps” he answered nonchalantly.
“You've never hurt yourself training” she remarked looking at him.
He hummed, his eye darkening in response.
“What has happened?”, she asked persistently, keen to know the reason he hadn't visited her all day.
“What is the word for trust in Valyrian” he asked.
She swallowed in response. “I just wish to know.”
“Ivestragon nyke” (Tell me)
“Pāsagon” (Trust)
“Hmm” “There were words spoken that needn't reach your ears. Things which, as I said, have now been dealt with.”
“The people of this realm needed a reminder of the power of our house, you may rest assured. We shall resume our routine as was before. Eat now so that we may finally get to what I've come here for.”
“I am a slow eater”
“Then I shall wait, I've never enjoyed the rush” he replied as she dug into her food.
“Your eyes still hold mine in question,” he said, kissing her neck as they laid together later, making her whine in response “It troubles you still, does it not”
“A little bit, though these thoughts evade me with you here. Stay” she asked him breathlessly. He tutted in response “And what would they say if they found me like this in your bed my lady, hmm?”
“They've never found you before”
“Ah but they're more alert now, you see. Someone could just walk in” he responded teasingly.
“Then all your training shall be put to task and I'm afraid you'd enjoy it even more” she answered laughing.
“Sleep. Mirre kessa sagon sȳrī” (All will be well) he said kissing her temple as she drifted off dreamlessly.
As dawn broke, she awoke to find the sheets crumpled nearby. Running her fingers across the bedding she saw a little note tucked beneath the pillow.
“Nyke kessa gaomagon ñuha kivio naejot ao, va moriot”
(I shall keep my oath to you, always)
She smiled in response, running her hands over the letters, reading them out in her head, before pulling the bell to summon her maids. She held it in her hands as they bathed and dressed her, while they tied her stays and combed her hair, still smiling to herself.
“Perhaps my lady would like to break her fast in the boudoir. There have been many who've been wishing to speak with you.”
She thanked them as she moved to attend to her visitors, excited for the day.
“Let me greet them now as the wife of a prince", she thought walking into the room.
A shrill scream broke her reverie as she witnessed the disarray. The room was in shambles, with most of the ladies huddled around each other whispering frantically and some on the floor around a lone figure, clutching her chest and wailing as she looked out the window. As lady Blount screamed for her beloved mounted on a spike, she clutched the note in her hands with tight certainty.
If there was one thing that she could be sure of, it was that her betrothed was always true to his word.
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Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond
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bucketyd · 5 months
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Your AleRudy art is amazing, especially your most recent post— do you have any thoughts about narco!Rudy and narco!Alejandro you’d like to share?
Hey thank you so much!
I have a thread on twitter about these two, but let me copy and paste here.
I'll try to draw and write more on this!
===
Narco! Alejandro AU
- Alejandro leads Las Almas Cartel with Valeria as one of El Sin Nombres
- He believes that the only way to make better Las Almas is to dominate it from a single source of absolute power
- He and Valeria argues a lot; internal conflicts are always high
- Ale and Rudy used to be a thing when they were both young; they have sun(Ale) and moon(Rudy) tattoos on their ankles
- They had a big fight when Ale chose a Sicario's way, went seperate ways
- Ale wanted to reach out to Rudy after he got a stable position in the cartel BUT Rudy have already joined special forces by then and was unreachable to Ale's dismay
- Alejandro kept tab on Rudy using his connections in corrupt military, waiting for right moment to take Rudy back to where he should be: by Alejandro's side
- Ale is ruthless, cruel, downright sadistic when it comes to asserting dominance and punishing traitors
- Rudy is also feared within special forces, known for his stern attitude toward people; he's more gloomier, doesn't smile a lot and mostly keeps to himself compared to OG
- Couple of years later after Rudy became a leader of Los Vaqueros squad Alejandro ambushes Rudy's team, and was able to capture him and take some of the vaqueros as hostages
- thank u for listening to bucket's deranged rant on another fuxked up alerudy aus
===
Narco! Rudy AU
(added some more from original thread)
- Rudy disappeared when he turned 18 after his abuela passed away
- Valeria promised him a bloody revenge on La Araña cartel and she did just that, so Rudy follows her
- Rudy moves more in the shadows and people don't know his identity, similar to El Sin Nombre
- Alejandro looked for him everywhere, but there was no trace; Ale assumed Rudy was dead
- Alejandro and his Los Vaqueros are known for their ruthlessness toward narcos and anyone affiliated to them
- Las Almas Cartel under influence of Rodolfo takes more softer approach; Rodolfo opposed to harboring terrorist Hassan in Las Almas and had a LOUD fight with Valeria
- This affected his status within the cartel and later led to betrayal; someone from the cartel tipped Alejandro off Rudy's location which ultimately led to Rudy's capture
- Rudy's cross necklace was Alejandro's gift when Rudy turned 18, 'mi sol' is engraved on the back side (he wanted to comfort Rudy)
- Rudy threw everything away when he chose to live as a sicario, but he couldn't throw away the cross and his memories with Alejo
- Rudy doesn't talk much, always a silent shadow behind Valeria, but when he is forced to he is bitter and sarcastic.
- After Rudy was caught by Alejandrp and Los Vaqueros, he was taken to their base to be interrogated, where he would not answer to any questions and only try to piss Alejandro off mentioning their childhood and how it's now meaningless to him
- Alejandro punched him; couldn't help himself; and gets to this hyper uh... fucked up state where he is just confused by hate, guilt, nostalgia and LOVE
- thank u for listening to bucket's deranged rant on ANOTHER fuxked up alerudy aus
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the-kr8tor · 7 months
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Threadbare
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 5.5k
Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for their clothing), CW panic attack, injury mention, insecurity, food mention, R has nicknames, angst, fluff.
Main Masterlist
Thread the Needle Masterlist
CHAPTER 4 >>> CHAPTER 5
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Your feet hurt, toes aching inside your chucks. You should've worn something comfier. Raising your tired legs a few inches away from the concrete, thinking the elevated position might help with relieving your strained muscles. You sit dejected near the river, disappointed that you couldn't find a flat for Hobie. Your back aches from the not so comfortable metal bench. Your lashes flutter against the cold gust of wind, making you hug your coat tighter around your torso.
Hobie plops next to you, a water bottle in hand. He groaned when he finally got to sit after hours of standing and walking around.
He raises a curious brow "what are you doing? Are you about to take a dive in the river or somethin'?" Hobie points at your lifted legs.
"My feet hurt" you hold your hand out towards the bottle, he hands it to you wordlessly. "Thanks, you drank?" Shaking the half full bottle, Hobie leans against the back of the bench, head lolling off the edge, his long arms spread out over the back of the bench.
"Yeah" he sighs, eyes closed, the sun's rays hitting his face, painting him in a heavenly light.
Taking a sip of water, you glance at him, his loose tank top peeking from under his leather jacket, clavicle on full display. You almost choke on water when you see his adam's apple bop up and down. You cough harshly, Hobie perks up, patting your back as you cover your mouth with your hand, heat on your cheeks.
"The fuck happened?" He asks, half concerned, half teasing.
You happened, you wanted to say, coughing louder, Hobie sits up, still patting your back.
"Maybe you should drink some water," Hobie smirks.
"Funny" you say in between coughs, tears in your eyes. You inhale and exhale, your coughing fit stops almost immediately. You sniff, murmuring a small goddamnit.
Hobie cups your cheek, wiping at the stray tear that managed to escape your eye. "Maybe someone was thinking of you, that's why you choked" me, it was me, I was thinking of you. He almost blurted out.
You lean into his touch before he takes his warm hand back. "Why in the world would they be thinking of me?" You look at your watch, "at three pm on a sunday of all days?"
"Why wouldn't anyone think of you?" He manages to blurt this one out, his eyes widening for a second, you look at him dumbfounded, hope blossoming in your chest. "you probably owe them money" he plays his first comment off, managing to stay cool even though he was slightly panicking. Your shoulders slump in disappointment, deciding to just ignore the first sentence.
"Shit, you're right I think I still owe Ned twenty pounds. Remind me to pay him before he leaves for Richmond" you lightly push him with your shoulder.
"Sure, I'll definitely remember that" Hobie sarcastically says.
You sigh, staring into the water, you watch as a boat sails by. Hobie notices your drop in mood when you mentioned Ned, he sometimes forgets you're also friends with him, knowing him for years now.
"Gromit, he'll be fine, yeah? He's all grown up, we taught him a lot" He taps your foot with his. You look at him, a frown on your lips.
"You make it sound like he's our kid, and he's leaving the nest"
"Weird way to put it, love" A smile slowly growing on his lips.
"Shut up, you started that weird comparison first, I'm just imitating you" you chuckle, you smile slowly fading away "it's just that–" you look at him, staring and waiting. You wish you brought Terry with you, you find that speaking through him is much easier. "It's nothing"
"Nah, you can tell me." He inches closer to you, the back of his hand on his leg, palm waiting for you.
You gaze down at his hand, fingers itching to hold him, "He's been with you for a long time, Hobs. Even though you've moved from band to band, he's always been your bassist, *always"
"People will always move on. Can't do anything to stop them, sometimes you just gotta wish 'em well" he ducks his head to meet your downturned gaze. "We can always visit him, Richmond's only an hour away"
"That's not what I meant, Hobie" you finally reach for his hand, squeezing it.
"I know what you mean" He holds your hand like it's the most precious thing in the world. "We can't stop their progress just because we don't want them to leave" he squeezes your hand. "People will leave, I've accepted that a long time ago"
"And yet I'm still here" you move closer to him, leg right next to his jean covered ones.
"And yet you're still here" Hobie chuckles despite this, he's never been more afraid of the possibility of having the same conversation with you except you'll be the one leaving him.
You grin at him, lacing your fingers together with his, afraid of letting him go. He sticks to you like a web, pulling you towards his chest, a warm hand on your nape. You cling to him like a spider would, arms enveloping him completely, you both feel the same thing, Home.
Electricity passes through you when Hobie presses a featherlight kiss over the crown of your head, as fast as it comes down it fades mere seconds later when Hobie pulls away from you, hand staying a few seconds longer on your head.
You sniff, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes. "We still haven't found you a place. Maybe I could hide you in my dorm until we find one?"
"Your RA's a bloodhound, I'm sure she can sniff me out the second I get there" He acts nonchalantly, a comforting arm over your shoulder. You lean back into his arm, his knuckles brushing over your coat. "We've got plenty of time, deadline to leave isn't until after your show, so we're still good"
"Maybe the last place we looked at isn't too bad?"
"Their bathroom had stairs leading down towards the shower, the place is a bloody deathtrap" he scoffs.
"Yeah, I guess slipping and falling on your ass isn't so punk of you" you try to use reverse psychology on Hobie.
"That's not gonna work," a small canal boat floats idly right in front of the bench, "besides they don't allow pets"
"You don't even have a pet" the boat honks loudly, you two ignore it.
"How are you gonna visit me then?" Hobie smirks playfully.
You jab him on his chest with your finger, "Dickhead"
"You got a new insult? Just call me a wanker next time" He pinches your arm, you yelp, poking him some more.
"You wanker" you jokingly glare at him, he finds it adorable, resisting the urge to peck the smirk off of your lips.
He goofily smiles at you, "There you go" his words dripping in fondness.
The boat honks longer and loudly, interrupting your banter. Hobie glares at the intrusion, a middle aged man waves at you two from the boat.
"Boat!" He yells out when he finally gets your attention, pointing enthusiastically at his boat. You look at him confused.
Hobie answers for you, "yeah mate, we can see that" he yells, "good for you!" He turns back to you but the man replies, stopping Hobie from continuing your conversation.
The unnamed man shakes his head, "No! Boat for sale!" He says in an accent you can't quite pinpoint.
Hobie's hand sits heavily on your shoulder, but you don't mind, finding it comforting especially after your emotional talk.
"It's a houseboat!" He points at you both "maybe couple interested? It's very cheap!"
"What are we gonna do with a houseboat?" You whisper to Hobie, he looks like he's contemplating. "Hobs?"
"How much?" He yells towards the man.
"Hobie!" You hold his arm, stopping him from going near the boat, "He seems shady" you whisper.
"He seems cool," Hobie shrugs. "Besides, he said it's cheap, better than having stairs in the bathroom." He moves near the water, you barely make out what they're saying, too concerned that you might get murdered on a houseboat of all places.
You stay with Hobie inside the Houseboat, it looks worn out but at least there's no holes in it. The floorboards creak with every move of your feet, and the faucet leaks, the sound annoying you with every drip drop of water on the sink. Standing close to Hobie, you hold onto the sleeve of his jacket, eyes wide awake for any danger, making sure you two don't end up on the nightly news.
The houseboat is smaller than the flats you've looked at hours ago, it has a cozy feel to it, from the narra floors to the adorable navy blue kitchenette. Despite it looking a little worn down, you know it's been well loved, with every scratch and indents on the wooden floor, the chipping paint revealing a different color behind it, they all have history, if only walls could talk. Even with all its flaws, the boat looks taken care of, no bugs eating away at its foundation, no rust on the metal finishings, and best of all no water damage in its interior. This could work.
"You can pay it off in installments" the man, you've now learned, is named Finn. He didn't miss the irony of his name, a man named Finn living in a boat, he made a joke about it earlier that you politely laughed at. Finn continues his sales talk with Hobie.
Maybe it's fate, meeting Finn. You don't think you can handle another go at flat hunting, your feet ache just from the thought of it.
He leads you two to the master's bedroom, big enough for a queen's size bed, and a simple cabinet. There's a small window on the side, the late afternoon sun filters through the opening.
"See?" He walks around the room "big enough for the two of you! Your girl will like the cabinet space" he smiles, his thick beard moving when he talks.
You don't correct him, you don't blame the man especially with how you're clinging on to Hobie. You stare at the peeling paint on the walls, there's a dust bunny on the corner of the floor.
Hobie doesn't chide in, listening intently to Finn's sales talk.
"And look! A bedroom with a view, eh?" He gestures towards the small window like he's presenting on stage. "And listen," He knocks on the walls, "Thick walls for a houseboat, perfect for privacy, eh?" He points to you both.
You look at Hobie, stifling a laugh. He stares back at you with a smirk over his lips. Oh not again.
"You sure 'bout that, mate?" He loops his arm over to your waist, rolling your eyes so far back you're sure you could see your brain. He bites back another quip, just in case it might make you uncomfortable.
"Yes! I'll go outside, and you scream as loud as you can, I'll tell you if I can hear you" he skedaddles out of the room, "be right back!" He leaves the boat completely.
"What if he's calling his friends to help murder us?" You ask actually concerned.
"Y/N," he clicks his tongue, "don't judge a book by its cover, besides you got me to protect you"
"You and those skinny arms of yours? We're both dead, Hobs"
You jump when Finn yells through the open window, "These walls are also perfect for when it rains, you can barely hear it!" He says with a huge smile, you think he's actually excited to show you how sound-proofed the place is. "Close the window then you scream, yes?"
Hobie takes a few steps to reach the window closing the glass, for added effect he also closes the curtains, blocking Finn off.
"He could lie and say he didn't hear us" you say, arms over your chest.
Without warning, Hobie yells loudly, you quickly put your hands over your ears. "You ass!" You yell back.
Hobie laughs from his stomach, taking your hands off your ears. You glare at him.
"Don't you dare yell again, I swear, Hobie you almost blew out my eardrums"
"I don't think you need ear drums in the fashion industry" he's still holding your hands, his rings cold against your palms.
"Well I need it" you hear a knocking from the other side of the window. Hobie releases your hands to open it, Finn's smiling face looks back at you. You think Hobie's right, you shouldn't have judged the man so quickly, he's genuinely a jolly person. His huge arms don't help though, the man could strangle you both without breaking a sweat.
"See? I didn't hear a thing!" He taps the shell of his ear, "no interruptions for you two" he laughs, his guffaw reminds you of Santa's laugh.
"Alright bruv, let me talk it out with her, give us a few minutes, yeah?"
"Of course, I'll be outside. I won't be able to hear anything here anyway!" He chuckles, closing the window shut.
You knit your brows, confused. Hobie saunters towards you, hands on his hip. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" You blink, surprised.
"Yeah, sure the place needs some polishing" he looks at the bright lime green walls of the bedroom, grimacing. "And a coat of paint. It'll be home by then, not to mention this place only costs a year worth of rent. And there's no stairs inside the bathroom"
"And no carpeted floors in the kitchen." You mention one of the places you looked at earlier in the day, "why do you need my input? It's your place"
"Because there's a second bedroom here" your heart skips a beat at what he's implying, smiling bashfully at Hobie. "There's enough space for us both, you could put your sewing machine over there," he points at a corner in the small living room. "Y'know, after you graduate, if you want to" he looks anywhere else except your face.
"Do you want me to?" You say slowly, making sure what you heard from him is real and not what you've imagined in your head several times before.
" 'course, you're my best mate, why wouldn't I want to"
"O-Oh" you try to say it with less sadness in your voice. He is your best friend, why do you sound so dejected at the title?
"There's no asshole landlord that's for sure, just us" he steps closer to you, trying to convince you more, his hand reaching out towards your elbow.
"Yeah, well technically you'll be my landlord" you tease him, playing with a loose thread from the hem of his tank top.
"Fuck off, don't call me that" He scoffs, rolling his eyes at you, "we'll talk about it after you graduate, yeah?" Hobie's thumb traces circles on your elbow.
"Okay. If you really like this place, you should get it" you nod with approval.
"Do you have the card on you?"
"What for?"
"Well, who's gonna help me fix up this place?" A smile curling on his lips.
"Goddamnit, Hobs" you take out the card from your pocket, handing it to him with a huff. "You only have eight left by the way" you would've helped him anyway, if only you weren't so busy with the project you would've given this one for free.
"I know how to count" He punches out a logo, it floats down on the wooden floors that definitely need some polishing. He gives it back to you "c'mon let's not keep the big man waiting, he might start to think we're snogging in here"
"He won't hear us anyway" throwing away your comment, you walk out of the room, acting nonchalant, your hand shakes slightly when you push open the creaky door. Hobie never anticipated that you would say something like that, he stands in the middle of the barren room, dumbfounded.
Hobie follows you after he collects himself. You walk outside, finally breathing in the cool air, you felt stuffy when you were inside. You look at the water while Hobie negotiates with Finn, they've been talking for a while now, so you decided to occupy yourself. A wave hits the side of the boat, almost throwing you overboard if not for you holding onto the sides.
"You alright there, little lady?" Finn asks. Hobie looks over his shoulder, seeing you hold the side with an iron grip. He quickly makes his way over to you, hands already moving you away from the edge.
"Fuckin' hell, I leave you for one minute" he grumbles.
"I'm okay, jeez dad" Hobie walks you back to Finn, Hand securely on your waist.
"You two are adorable! You remind me of my partner and I when we were younger" Finn sighs longingly.
"Is that why you're selling the boat?" You wince at the question you blurted out, "sorry, not my business"
"It's okay, I like talking about him. We're moving back to Amsterdam so I had to sell the boat. We've lived here for fifteen happy years, hope it's the same for you both" He sounded so genuine, a happy smile on his face the entire time he was talking to you. You don't have the heart to correct him on your relationship with Hobie.
You nod, smiling shyly. "That's really sweet of you, thank you, Finn"
"Thanks, mate. Appreciate you" Hobie shakes Finn's hand, sealing the deal.
"I'll send you the papers" Finn's grin turns melancholy, "never thought I'd ever sell this place, take care of her for me, would you?"
"She's in good hands" Hobie lets go of Finn's hand.
"And you two better take good care of eachother," he winks at you both.
You sit in front of your sewing machine, it thumps loudly inside your small dorm room, your mannequin is full of different shades of plaid cloth pinned on its sides, you sigh, blinking away the stress and fatigue.
Glancing at your final design, you scowl at it, despite it looking like a carbon copy of Hobie. You can't figure out what's missing in the outfit, you've added a bit more of you in it, but it still doesn't feel like you.
Your mind is cluttered and it shows in your surroundings. Your sketchpad is full of sketches of Hobie, the corkboard in front of you is littered with punk fashion references, polaroids of you and Hobie together, patches, pins and fabric samples. The loud sound of the machine makes your ears twitch, the needle going in and out of the piece you're sewing into.
Someone knocks loudly from the other side of your paper thin walls for the third time that night, they yell at you to keep it down, but you don't stop, have to finish this, you grit your teeth, grip loosening on the fabric, on your peripheral you can see a picture of Hobie smiling at you, clack, clack, your machine whirs. Knock, knock, the knocking persists. Your ears ring, licking your chapped lips, you keep forgetting to exhale. Mrs. Williams' grating voice echoes in your head, or you won't graduate. Ned's voice overlapping with hers, sorry, y/n. On top of all the noise, you try to focus on Hobie's familiar tone, got you, don't worry. You feel the walls closing in on you.
"Shut the fuck up!" Your neighbor knocks loudly, almost toppling over your corkboard.
You almost slip your thumb over the needle, if not for your reflexes your finger would've been a part of the pants you're sewing. Your eyes are blown out, breathing heavily. You're suddenly overwhelmed by everything, your jumper scratches at your skin, toes curling in the cold despite your fluffy socks covering them. A sob escapes you, you dampen it with your hand over your mouth. Shutting your eyes tightly closed, you focus on your breathing, legs involuntarily shaking, tears rolling over your hand. Your heart drums loudly in your chest, as if it could jump out at any second.
It's getting hard to breathe, you feel sick.
Weathering it out for what feels like an eternity, You finally let it all out of your system, chest hurting from the suppressed crying, your eyes are red. You've grown more tired, heaving from the lack of air. You notice the sudden silence, it almost gets you again, tears pricking in your eyes, threatening to spill out.
Coming down from it, you sniff, using your sleeve to clean your tear stained cheeks. You exhale, clearing your throat. Taking the half finished pants from under the sewing machine, cutting off the thread and then grabbing a spare needle from your kit. Your hands are shaking trying to insert the thread inside the tiny hole. Frustrated, you fling the needle and thread over your messy table. The metal clatters on the wooden table.
The mixture of different emotions swirl inside your stomach, wanting to vomit it out, or better yet, grab it by the neck and toss it as far away as you can.
You want to give up. Shaking your head, getting rid of the horrible thought, you can't give up, you have to keep going, you've made it this far, you're almost at the finish line. Thinking of Hobie, he wouldn't give up, but you're not him, you're just you, plain old you. People often wonder how you manage to stay in your major, with your simple button ups, white chucks, and your usual light cardigans, avoiding any bright colors in your wardrobe or other styles that would gather attention. Compared to your style, your classmates' eye-catching looks match with your major, not to mention they're not afraid to flaunt their unique styles.
Sometimes you miss the old you, the young starry eyed y/n, clothes always in full and bright colors, with matching accessories to boot, shoes sparkling in the light. You don't even remember when you buried your old self.
You miss her, wishing you never listened to the opinion of others, wishing that you never cowered behind their judgemental stares. Hobie never did any of that, but you can't help but hide yourself to stop people from their snickering. You sometimes wish to borrow a smidge of Hobie's don't-give-a-shit attitude, but alas the world doesn't work that way.
You suddenly have the urge to seek Hobie's warmth, instead you settle for the next best thing. Sighing, you crawl under the covers, head hitting the pillow. You're not giving up just yet, there's no shame in resting, you won't be able to finish your work like this anyway.
You eye your old cherry earrings, dangling on the side of your mirror, the only piece you kept from your old self. Mind going back to the past. You remember who helped you pick it from the mall, the only thing you could afford with your allowance. You two would always go there after school, window shopping and hunting for the latest trends. This was before you and Hobie became close, your friendship still blossoming.
You wonder how your old friend is doing, maybe you should call him up, ask him for tips, he's always had a better eye for designing ever since you were kids, considering him a protégé, his hand always scribbling away on his sketchbook.
Bringing the covers up to your nose, you close your eyes, trying to remember your old friend's number.
You finally hear Hobie's motorbike coming towards the event's place. People stare at the loud intrusion. You snort, knowing that he likes the disturbance he's causing.
You speed walk towards him, just in case he revs up his engine to spite everyone. "Hey, Hobie" You greet him with a tight lipped smile.
He takes off his helmet with a groan "what's this place? A concert or somethin'?" Hobie squints at the spotlights near the entrance.
"You okay? I made you some coffee. You said you lot played last night" you hand him a small thermos.
"That better not be from our starbucks card"
"No, that thing's expired, I brewed this from my good stash"
He turns his engine off, clambering off the motorbike, his heavy boots thudding against the asphalt. He hesitantly grabs the thermos. "No tea?"
"Nope, ran out of them last night" You take a good look at him, he's wearing his signature leather jacket covered in various pins and patches, his jeans a patchwork of cloth and metal accessories. His piercings shine in the moonlight. "Sorry I couldn't come last night, I needed to finish the pants"
"Fuck me, that's actually good" he says after taking a sip, "it's all right, the show was business as usual"
"I didn't miss anything?"
"Nah, missed you though" Hobie loops his arm over your shoulder, walking towards the entrance "Ned missed ya" he added to hide his first comment.
"The real question is, did James miss me too?" You joke, you're not naïve with how the guy manages to stammer every time you talk to him. Only when you talk to him.
"Everyone missed you" he holds you tighter.
"I better come to the next one then" you pinch his side.
Entering the venue, Hobie stops in his tracks, arm loosening off your shoulder.
"Where the fuck did you bring me?" He stares at the pearlescent runway, the sides full of chairs. Photographers and audiences move towards their seats.
"A runway show!" You nervously grin at him.
"Nah, y'know I don't like big brands, this place reeks of capitalism. Thought you wanted to get shawarma" He glares at you.
"We're gonna eat later, hear me out before you start walking away, please" Hobie narrows his eyes at you.
"Go on"
"This is a small brand, a niche fashion house. This event is this big because it's their first major collection. I promise you their clothes are all from sustainable materials and—" Hobie impatiently taps his foot "—and half of the proceeds go to charity! You know we both share the same sentiment when it comes to clothes. My entire wardrobe came from thrift stores and I recycle the fabrics I used on old projects."
"We haven't been in a thrift store in a while" He grumbles out.
"We can go after the show if you want"
"Now you're just bribing me"
You sigh, "I'm in a designing stump right now and I really need the inspiration, but I'm not forcing you, you can go if you really don't want to watch, I'm not gonna hold it against you"
Hobie stares you down, now under better lighting, he notices the bags under your eyes, your lips dry as bones, his annoyance turns into concern. You're stretching yourself too thin, maybe asking you to accompany him in finding a flat wasn't such a good idea. He mentally notes to retract his previous favor from you.
"Alright, you better not be lying about all that shit you said" He walks towards one of the chairs, pulling you by your sleeve.
"I'm not, Danny told me all about it"
He stops mid stride, "who?"
You sit down by the end of the runway, feeling lucky finding a good seat in front. "Danny from school, you don't remember him?" You pat the chair next to you.
"I literally don't remember anyone, except you and big Terry, him because we used to beat the shit out of each other. And you because I can't seem to shake you" Hobie quips. He sits down next to you.
"You are sooo sweet" you sarcastically say, "Danny's that small kid, with the big glasses. I used to hang out with him before he changed schools"
"You have other friends?" He acts surprised.
Rolling your eyes, you excitedly grab his arm when the light changes, the spotlight follows the first model out on the runway. You watch, taking note of the details on the dress.
Hobie watches your face the entire time, he deciphers your expressions– he translates your pout to mean that you liked it, everytime you narrow your eyes it means you didn't like it. You tighten your hold on him, that means you absolutely loved it. He chuckles when you grimace, oh you did not like that pair of pants.
The show ends, he turns his head towards the stage just in time for you to look at him with a satisfied smile. He nods and claps with you.
You reach for him, "come on, I see Danny over there!" You drag Hobie out of his chair, hand clasped over his.
He lets you hold him, Hobie feels disappointed when you let go of him, flexing his hand as you run up to Danny.
"Holy shit, cherry! You actually made it!" Danny greets you with a bear hug.
You pull away, an arm's length away from him. Hobie lingers behind you, waiting for you to introduce him. "Hi, Danny! Look at you Mr. Bigshot over here!"
"I'm just an assistant," he shrugs.
"Yeah, to the main designer!" You look over your shoulder, excited to reintroduce Hobie. "Danny, you remember Hobie, right?"
"Oh my days! Hobart Brown! My replacement" he playfully puts his hands on his hips. Hobie steps up to greet him.
"And you're not as small as I remember, what happened to the glasses?" He acts as if he remembers Danny clearly. Hobie fists bumps Danny's knuckles. "Call me Hobie, yeah? Only cops call me Hobart, and her, occasionally" He points at you with his head.
"Growth spurt and I got contact lenses, it's nice to see you again, hero"
So he's that Danny, Hobie finally remembers him.
You grin widely at the interaction, feeling energized and inspired. "The show was amazing! Thank you for inviting us"
"You're very welcome, unfortunately I can't hang around that long, gotta help them pack up" Danny points towards the back stage, "we'll catch up next time, okay?"
"Aww, that's too bad, thank you again. And yeah definitely we'll catch up some other time" you give your old friend a hug.
"Oh! I almost forgot, you asked for some advice on the phone, right?" Danny asks, you nod at his question. "Do whatever the hell you want, design whatever you fucking want, as long as you're happy with it, you're golden" he gestures widely while he talks. "I mean look at me! I'm wearing a pinstripe suit, I look like a fuckin' mobster from the 20's, do i give a shit what people say? No! Of course not."
Hobie leans down to your ear, slyly whispering "I can see why he's your friend, man's bonkers"
You bump your shoulder with Hobie,"That's– thank you, I needed that" you can't believe that Danny noticed your different style, even years later he still knows you.
"See, I still know you," he says as if he can read your mind. He winks at you, "missed you, cherry. Take good care of yourself" Danny walks away, he stops walking for a second, turning back to you both. "Oh! And Hobie, be a fucking man bruv, you're not fooling anyone" He continues to walk towards his destination.
Hobie looks surprised, was he watching you two interact while he was backstage? Did you say something to him? Nevertheless in the five minutes Danny talked to him, he read him like an open book. Can this guy read minds? If so, Hobie is in trouble.
You look at Hobie confused. "What did he mean by that?"
At least one theory is debunked, "don't know, love. Told you he has a few screws loose"
You look at him suspiciously, "you didn't say anything to him right?"
"No, why? Did you say anything to him?"
"I just asked him on the phone if we can meet, and he invited me here. I mentioned you and he told me to bring you too, that's it. Oh and also for the advice" you narrow your eyes "you sure you didn't say anything?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? No, I didn't" He tugs at your sleeve, trying to pull you out of the venue.
"Okayy, well he basically called you a wanker, soo"
"You called me a wanker, wanker"
You gasp, feigning hurt, clutching your non-existent pearls. "How dare you"
"You're just fuckin' hungry, c'mon" He slips his hand over yours, pulling you out of the event's place, dodging any questions you have because of what your old friend said. You giggle as he easily pulls you towards his bike.
He places you next to his motorcycle, plopping your helmet over your head, you laugh at his antics, "oh you're hangry, huh?"
Hobie secures the helmet, "he's right, y'know"
"Hmm? About what?" You look up at him through your lashes.
"Wear whatever you want. Don't hide yourself, especially with me." he shrugs "red suits you best, cherry" he clicks his tongue at the last word, annoyed that your old friend came up with a better nickname for you. Heat rises in your cheeks, Hobie avoids your eyes for a moment. "Let's go, I want shawarma" he lightly slaps the top of your helmet.
You look down at your shoes, smiling fondly.
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A/N: I promise that Finn and Danny are the last ocs in this story (maybe lol). Thank you for reading! As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️
*pictures above are from pinterest*
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vintagexherry · 5 months
Text
Treasure for Three Days [8][Finale]
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Pirate!Miguel x Princess!Reader
//Smut, Kissing, unprotected sex, oral, throat fucking, overstimulation, first times [pls comment if I miss anything]
A/N: Thank you for your patience
Previously
"Just couldn't stay away from you, hermosa." He chuckled at your flushed state.
"Yeah....I notice" You smiled.You glanced back at the shoreline, seeing your father shouting for you to come back.
This time, though, you're sure you don't want to.
You don't how you ended up here, but you sure as hell this is what you meant by taking your mundane life away.
Sure, running, piracy, and chasing wasn't the exact scene that comes to your head, but it's better than you could expect.
Lovely even.
The sun is setting, a mixture of orange and subtle purple paint the sky, and the shoreline of your kingdom is long forgetten in the distance.
Right now, you inhale the salty yet fresh air of the ocean, your face ached from smiling so widely from the event that transpired, but you can't find yourself to stop smiling.
The crew seemed to be happy that your back, saying things like keeping the captain in control.
You chuckle at their words, you only spent three-ish days with them yet you felt a deep bond.
"I see you're still nothing but a deep thinker, hermosa."
Your head turned around to see Miguel approaching you with a smirk.
He slightly bends down to kiss you on your lips, and you smile even wider.
"Hello to you too," you mused.
"Mmm, missed the taste."
Miguel seemed to stare into your soul with his piercing red-brownish eyes, and you can't help but shiver.
"Glad I didn't make you marry that snob of a prince."
"You met my fiance? Is that how you got your royal clothes from?"
"Fiance? No more of that bebita. And maybe... Maybe threatened him with a sword against his neck for good measures."
You chuckle.
"Sword agaist his neck? Sounds a bit familiar don't you think?"
He seemed to think for a while and laughed at the memory.
"Glad I did it." He smiled to you. His hands caressing your waist.
"Cap'n! The sails are okay and wind is steady." A crewmate reported, breaking you and Miguel in your bubble of light flirting.
"Good. Keep her busy, if im needed I'll be in my quarters."
You lightly yelp as you were dragged by the waist and made to follow Miguel to his room.
Once you both arrived and the door was shut, Miguel didn't waste time diving to your lips.
Your eyes widened a bit but you quickly returned his affection.
"Eager, are we? I didn't expect the infamous Miguel O'hara to be smitten." You teased.
"That's right, big bad, Arachne captain got the hots for a little princess. Now I wonder if that princess is willing to fix the problem?" He teased back as his hands go at the back of your dress, untying the corset as he does.
With the corset starting to loosen, you kissed him again.
He chuckles
"It's a yes then? Well what are we waiting for hm?"
With that, he suddenly carried to bridal style and promptly dropped you to the bed.
He didn't waste time kissing you feverishly.
While kissing, you didn't notice him taking a dagger nearby. He disconnected the kiss for him to slice the fabrics and threads that held your dress.
"Wha-Hey!-"
"Shhh, I'll get you a new one, as many as you like. Maybe more than your wardrobe."
He threw the dagger randomly on the floor and ripped the rest of your dress with his hands.
His lips returned to you and moved down to your neck.
You shuddered as you felt soft lips tracing the veins in your neck and down to your collarbone. The dress finally removed, and he threw its scrap randomly on the floor alongside the dagger.
"Mmm- Miguel"
"Relax for me bebita, that's it."
His hands caressed every skin that it could find, rubbing circles on your arms, until it reached your thighs, and then your knees.
While his lips are occupied for leaving you marks, his hands spread your legs apart to give him room.
You lightly gasped when you felt his bulge slightly drag at your clothed pussy.
He stopped his mistrations with his lips and hissed a cursed.
His eyes looked down at your underwear, he glared at it as if it did a grave sin agaist him.
In this scenario it probably did.
His hands left your knees and immediately went to remove your underwear.
Once off, your suddenly felt shy. Causing you to close your legs a bit but Miguel is quicker stop you.
"Mmnh, non of that hermosa, don't go shy on me now."
You bit your lip and slightly nodded as you opened your legs a bit again.
Miguel is still fully clothed. Your hands went to the buttons of his blouse.
Miguel seem to be happy with your intiative and let your unbutton his blouse and next were his pants.
When he finally slid off his clothes you gulp as his stature.
Miguel is big, his muscles, his height...
And that horse between his legs.
Miguel sensed your nerves and one of his hands raised up to pet your head.
"We'll take it easy, hermosa, But who knows, maybe next time I wouldn't if you keep looking at like that." He teased.
"Ego is as high as ever." You smiled.
Your eyes focused on his dick, it's size made you question how'd it fit into your mouth before, and now you want to question how it will fit into you overall.
You suddenly think 'fuck it'. You just ran away from your home and you finally gonna get the life you wanted.
A little rod down your throat should'nt stop you.
You raised your body so you could go down on your knees, Miguel's member just right in front of you.
You took your hands and gently wrapped it around it's length, Miguel hissed at the contact.
You find your lips connecting to his tip, licking off any excess precum that's starting to drip off.
Miguel hissed more, biting his bottom lip. His hands automatically held the back of your head, not pushing you further but enough to encourage you.
You took the sign and continued licking his length. After a few more licks, you sucked his tip.
"fffffuuck, that's it bebita. go o-on."
Your movements made his hips buck, almost putting his length into your mouth.
You licked and sucked a few more times, and finally, with a deep breath of courage and a whole lotta confidence to do it, you took his length halfway making it hit the back of your throat.
"Ah, ¡Mierda!"
His hand is now gripping your hair, giving you a bit of a sting but who cares at this point.
You bobbed your head, each bob making you take his length deeper into you.
If Miguel was known to be the fearsome and strongest pirate captain out there.
He's also known for not being patient.
With you almost taking his length down your throat, Miguel uttered a word you couldn't hear and the last thing you know was both of his hands holding the side of your head and ramming his cock down your throat roughly.
"Hgrk!" You gagged, your nose hitting his pelvic area and your senses are filled with Miguel.
Miguel didn't seem to mind since all he did was move your head for you while thrusting his hips to the same rhythm.
Your ears hear nothing but your own gagging noises and Miguel's swearing and grunts.
"Shhhit, a-amor that...thats it!"
With a few more thrusts, he held your head to stay in one place, then you finally felt that familiar warmth down your throat.
After a few minutes, Miguel finally let your head go letting you let his length out of your mouth.
Miguel above you was a panting mess, but you were much worse.
Make up the maids put on you this morning was all ruined with tearstreaks ruining the eye makeup and drool smudging the lipstick.
You might look worse but Miguel could beg to differ.
While you also took a breather, you notice his cock twitching back to hardness, and it did nothing but make you throb for it.
"Breath in as much as you need hermosa, it's gonna be a long night."
------
"Mi-Miguel!"
Your pleas go from one ear to another since Miguel was too busy ramming into you as if it's your last day all over again.
Both of you don't know if minutes or hours has gone by.
But sure as hell you both are enjoying it.
Miguel took his time to prepare you and your body, giving you praises here and there. Caresses are placed everywhere. And you thank the gods for being able to survive the thing between his legs.
"So good...So goo- fuck!"
While you were writhing in overstimulation, Miguel was busy enjoying himself.
His dick hitting that one spot you swore you saw stars with.
Forget stars. You were seeing whatever Galileo Galilei saw in the telescope.
Your moans and Miguel's grunts fill the room entirely that you weren't surprised if the entire ship could hear it.
But you can't think right now, no thoughts go in your head when Miguel started increasing in speed, the bed creaking with his movements.
You screamed his name but he doesn't seem to care.
His hands being on the side of your head, started gripping the sheets hard, a tale tell sign his close.
So were you.
You were now babbling mess beneath him, your mind felt pleasure no where near imagination.
"Come with me hermosa, come with....Fuck!"
His hips stuttered in movement as he finally gave one last thrust into you before you felt warm liquid flow inside of you.
You body convulsed at the feeling, shockwaves spread around your muscles making them tense and shake.
You said Miguel's name one last time before your body went limp.
You gaze above Miguel and he does the same to you.
His face was lightened only by the moonlight through the window.
Miguel gazed down onto you, he felt nothing but admiration for your being. You look like a divine being and him, just a mere mortal.
As both of you catch your breath, Miguel finally laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and you felt nothing but safety in the arms of your lover.
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While you and Miguel are busy resting.
The crew was busy distracting themself at the scenery.
"Bloody hell... Those two finally shut up." Hobie muttered with a sigh.
Miles chuckled.
"Well, at least we finally have someone who can hold back Captain with his mood swings."
Hobie hummed in agreement. Resting his eyes
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes in realization. Hobie looked at Miles with a smirk.
"I know that look, I dont like that look."
Hobie didn't say anything but lend his hand out.
Miles looked at it and sighed deeply. He reached out his back and put out a pouch of gold. Throwing it to Hobie who catched it happily.
"A bet is a bet mate, so are rules." Hobie chuckled. "Told ya I always win"
"Oh shut up." Miles scoffed but that didn't erase his smile.
As much as the crew didn't get enough sleep that night they were glad your back. Someone who can laugh at their shenanigans and someone who can be of assistance when talking to Miguel.
And Miguel was nothing but glad he got his treasure back.
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