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#if you've never read this poem you have to
saintfaulkners · 2 days
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Sorry to bother you, but dude. You're so fucking cool. Would you consider sharing your top three favorite books (and why, if you feel like it)? Your aesthetic and taste in media is so fucking *it*
Thank you :)
you're not bothering me at all! in fact you just made me smile like an idiot, so thank you 🫀
I think picking a top three is almost impossible for me, but I can do a top 5:
1. we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson
this is my favourite book of all time. nothing else has ever made me feel like reading this book did. the prose is so beautiful in its raw simplicity, a childish fantasy stated so matter-of-factly you have no choice but to let go of any sense of reason that might prevent you form feeling the words as having sprung from your own mind the instant you are reading them, and the narrator's intimate inner monologue draws you in so magnetically into her enchantingly morbid world of twisted logic and sympathetic magic – it's the sweetest nightmare you never want to wake up from.
2. house of leaves by mark z. danielewski
what is there still to say about house of leaves? it's as good as everyone says it is. I fought for my relationship with this book – we did not get along at all for quite a while – and it was worth it. I think it might have actually made it even better in the end. i feel like this book knows me somehow, like we have a reciprocal relationship with each other in which we are both active parties. I don't think any other work of art has ever given me that. it's the proverbial abyss staring back into you, luring you into its depths and never letting you go again.
3. autobiography of red by anne carson
autobiography of red is a verse novel, so you could think of it as one big poem, and it's beautifully written. the blurring and blending of myth and reality and continuous shifting of fiction and recollection, impression and perception sweeps you up into a tale both ancient and timeless, tragic and hopeful, about a boy who is a monster, or maybe a giant, with three bodies or maybe six hands, a shepherd or a dragon, a son with a red red heart. also, it's gay.
4. piranesi by susanna clarke
piranesi is a bit as if the house from house of leaves cared for you and was also built by plato. it kind of sneaks up on you gently, dangerously but never with malicious intent. it wants to lead you to a place inside yourself that you've never been to or maybe have just forgotten, and uncover what lies in wait there. most of it is love.
5. frankenstein by mary shelley
and for the last one, a classic. I kind of put off reading this for a long time, because I wanted to like it so badly and was very scared I wouldn't, or at least not to a degree that would satisfy, as is unfortunately often the case for me with these kinds of "important" things. but I was so pleasantly surprised. it wasn't hard to get into or inaccessible at all, it didn't bore or alienate me, on the contrary. it touched me so deeply and unexpectedly I didn't stop thinking about it for quite a while. it truly deserves its status in my eyes.
also because I couldn't resist, a visual representation of nine of my favourite books:
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I hope you will find something worth your while in at least one of them!
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liminalpebble · 3 days
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Between the Lines, Chapter 3
Masterlist
Pairing: Femme reader x Loki Pre-Thor 1 AU
CW: Allusions to sexual slavery dubcon/noncon within the society. Power imbalance. Eventual smut with questionable consent. Minors DNI.
AN: This will be a multi-parter but not a particularly long one, so if I leave you hanging between chapters, I promise it won't be particularly long before it all comes together.
Chapter 3
“Please, select a book, darling. Whatever your heart desires. I want you to read to me.”
His voice is hypnotic, calculated but somehow still seductive. You begin to move towards the shelves again in the same trance-like gait, eyes glued to the rows of beautiful volumes.
Until...
“Why?” you ask turning abruptly to face him. Despite all his charm, all his spells, your inquisitive nature still manages to break them.
“I beg your pardon,” he retorts.
“Why?” you repeat, swallowing your fear to step closer. “Why all this? There are hundreds of subjects, of all genders, who spend years learning to be perfect concubines and courtesans. They dream of being called to serve a royal. It's one of the oldest professions, and in my opinion, no less noble than my own.”
“But Sire,” you say, stilling your rambling words, and regaining formality, “I'm an academic from a barely-noble house. I'm surprised that you know I exist, much less that you'd summon me to serve you this way. And now, here I am. Ordered to your bedchambers, but instead you take me to your library and tell me...to read to you?”
Loki's face turns grim and dangerous for a moment; clearly taken aback. You'd swear that this is the first genuine reaction you've gleaned from him. Then there's something else, a subtle blush to his pale cheeks. Is he...embarrassed...shy?
Whatever it is, a strange mask of artificial glee rapidly replaces it.
His voice lowers to a gravely rasp, “My my... you do have spirit after all. I was wondering when it would make an appearance.”
Loki stalks closer, his incisive glare never leaving you as he asks, “And what right does a subject have to question her prince, hmm?”
He grimaces and, lightening quick, grabs your chin firmly, forcing your eyes on him. He whispers, enunciating each perfect syllable. “You should know that I'm capable of terrible, awful things.”
“No...I have no right, Your Majesty, of course. I just couldn't help my...natural curiosity. My apologies.” You hate the fawning whine your voice takes on, the terror so evident in it.
Just as quickly, his vice-grip releases and he's....laughing. The bastard is laughing. You feel a roiling flash of acid in your stomach; anger and indignation, but right on its heels, utter helplessness.
You eyes grow wide as you begin to understand. He's not just amused, he's aroused by this game. He doesn't just want a bedfellow, he wants to play chess...and he wants an opponent worthy of the effort.
What an arrogant bellend, you thought, furiously.
His hands are on you again. This time the touch is gentle, resting on your tensed shoulders to lower them as he delicately guides you back to the bookcase.
“No matter, sweet girl. Think nothing of it. Now...choose.”
I'm not a girl. I'm well past being a girl. I'm an adult and a scholar, you patronizing son of a...
“I'm waiting,” he says in a saccharine singsong tone.
You reach towards Plath and he “tsk”s loudly, “Come on now....something more romantic and less depressing!”
You stifle a scoff and an eye roll, beginning to understand why Prince Thor finds his brother so exasperating. You do smirk for a moment when you settle on your choice, hoping it communicates your sarcasm, loud and clear.
“Pablo Neruda,” he announces as you hand him the book. “Veinte Poemas de Amor y Una Canción Desesperada...Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair.”
You hate him. Hate how beautifully his accent rolls along the letters as he recites the original Spanish title. You hate how it coaxes your skin into goosebumps under the velvet touch of his clothes.
“Hmmm. Romantic, surely. I'll give you that, but what a depressing final note!”
You shrug. “Doesn't most love end in despair?”
He squints and lets out a soft breath, as if you've truly wounded him. “Ohhhhh darling, only if you've never had the pleasure of suitable lovers...which apparently, you haven't.”
“You poor...poor thing,” he adds with a mocking tease curling his lips. “We'll rectify that. I assure you.”
----------
Several hours later, you had recited all 20 poems and the solitary song of despair, among a plethora of others. The books had formed little cairns and mesas upon the sleek marble floor and the dewy fog of the little hours hung heavy over the skylight in fading indigo.
Now you were dozing in his arms where he insisted you lay against him, your back resting against his chest, long firm limbs gathering you closely, protectively.
Loki watches as your eyes flutter shut and your words trail off into a mumbling whisper. Only then does he dare to touch you. He gently combs his agile fingers through you hair, skating over the warmth of your neck. He gazes lower, watching where the swell of your breath moves each delicious forbidden part of your body concealed by his own robe. He feels need ache within him; carnal want, yes, but more than that. He longs to be gentle, but of course, his reputation cannot be a gentle one. He longs to be close and sweet and vulnerable, but his position doesn't allow for such needs.
But he aches. Gods, does he ache for you to be even closer. He wishes he could let you, his carefully chosen equal, inside.
So he decides that this game, sadly, is as close as he can get to love, to friendship, to vulnerability; this teasing and touching from a distance, this hostile affection. He's not a monster, he tells himself, he's just so lonely.
He holds you closer, suddenly irrationally afraid that you will slip through his fingers and disappear like sand. You stir and he watches as your beautiful eyes open and your soft lips part into a waking inhale. You begin to stretch languidly but then stiffen, remembering where you are.
Loki's bright clear eyes meet yours, his expression inscrutable as he coos, “Hello. I hope you slept well, however, I don't recall telling you to stop reading.”
You scramble to gather your groggy senses, “Si...Sire. I apologize, it was just terribly late and...”
“No excuses. Continue,” he growls.
Then you feel it, the firm length of his cock behind you, prominent even beneath layers of clothes. You blush but choose to ignore it, uncertain if he wants you to mention it or not. You just continue to recite.
He receives a dose of your sweet scent where he's nuzzled into the curve of your shoulder blade, heady as a drug to him. He notices your hand, trembling where it holds the pages open and he strokes over your knuckles gently.
Mid-sentence you feel a cool, slow, peck to your hot cheek...a kiss that moves lower and lower as your voice goes higher and higher. By the time he opens his mouth to lathe his tongue over the juncture of you neck and shoulder, you're barely able to sigh out any syllables. When he finally bites down, your eyes close. You go silent, paralyzed, like prey.
His long tongue and sharp teeth hold you like a snake bite as the venom of his lust warms you from the inside out, every last branching vein and artery beholden to his will.
You body betrays your strong stubborn mind, but Loki experiences a similar mutiny. His need is spreading to you, through you, until all the clever words stop, your and his, and there is only touch.
@lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @peaches1958 @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @muddyorbs @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @goblingirlsarah @sweetsigyn @unlucky-number-13 @mochie85 @acidcasualties @alexakeyloveloki @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @ladyofthestayingpower @mischiefmaker615 @loopsisloops @sailorholly @coldnique @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @gigglingtiggerv2 @anukulee @azula-karai-27 @eleniblue @marcotheflychair @litaloni @gruftiela
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slightofsighted · 25 days
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You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart.
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cocrante · 4 months
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Every time I watch a video about art, dance, cooking, I always think that human existence is simply all here. In the joy brought by small things, in the fun we create even through mistakes. It drives me crazy when someone tries to take all of this away, turning the world into a gray, insignificant place to live
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viktoriamagrey · 1 year
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Hope is for the Brave
People say hope is weak; easily snuffed out. That hopeful people will become jaded; that “hopeless idealists” are a temporary state. Hope, despite its deceptively gentle nature, isn’t meant to be held like a shield, but a blade. Hope is meant to be fiercely held on to and stubbornly unsheathed like steel from its scabbard. Hope is not a fading desire; it’s the greatest tool to a fighting soul. Hope should be looked at in the places it thrives in; not the ones it fades away in. Don’t look to the hopeless dreamers that shatter like crystal when their hope turns to dust and slips through their hands, then point to hope as if hope was a broken lifeline. Do not go looking for hope in the hands of the people it doesn’t belong in. Hope belongs in the courageous, and shines in the hearts of the warriors who are strong enough to wield it. Hope is the fuel of a healthy soul; and it flourishes in the grasp of undying faith. Hope is the strength of a human who can always look to the stars, even when the darkness is clouding their eyes. Hope is for the brave.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.
my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.
but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.
oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.
you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.
when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.
oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.
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feluka · 18 days
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"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.
But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.
But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.
When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.
And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.
Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.
Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.
In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.
So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"
So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.
Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.
She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".
So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.
And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.
Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.
The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.
To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."
-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.
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impactedfates · 6 months
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Detective Oblivious - Various Genshin Characters x GN! Reader
★ Summary: Your best friend lately has been acting strange. Could they have a crush on someone?! You have to get to the bottom of it…though perhaps you can start by noticing how they look at you
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Alhaitham, Ayato, Kazuha, Xiao, Yelan, Ningguang
★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Fluff + Maybe a bit of Crack
☆ Warnings: None
★ Extra: HSR Ver Here // Semi-Proof Read
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Honestly I don't blame you for not noticing Alhaitham likes you. He's very hard to read. But at the same time, it doesn't take a detective to notice how he's more careful with his words when talking to you. He doesn't necessarily care what you think of him, even if he likes you, however he does wish for you to see him in a more positive light.
So even though you've been friends for so long, his sudden change in how he talks to you is so you can hopefully see how he feels about you as he believes you'd be able to notice but well...much to his dismay and annoyance, you don't.
You got the part that he likes someone, but not that those feelings are directed towards you. Have you not seen the longing stares he gives you when you're doing anything? How he's more lenient in what you're doing?? How when he was The Acting Grand Sage, how he always looked over anything you wrote to him first???
Clearly not as, as when he enters his home he can see you talking to Kaveh to see if he knows anything about who he likes. Kaveh, noticing him behind you, simply smiled. Although Alhaitham wants to confess to you, he'd rather him telling you directly or you finding out yourself without the need of help from others. And Kaveh knew this...
"Oh, he likes yo-"
A book was suddenly thrown at Kaveh as the Scribe quickly took you away.
"Wh- hey! He was going to tell me something"
"Didn't want him to say something I should be saying...I should be the one telling you I like you"
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Many people caught on to the way Ayato treated you differently towards others, in fact. Both Ayaka and Thoma knew he liked you before he himself knew. Yet, why was it that everyone but you knew how much he held you dear to his heart?
Ayato never had much free time to be frank, however unlike his other friends and even family. He would never send anyone as many gifts as he did to you. Anytime you liked something you'd have it delivered to your house right away. You always thanked him for it, beaming as you looked at it. Although you did slightly feel bad as some of the things you off handily mention wanting are quite expensive. But the Commissioner doesn't care. Seeing that smile is enough for him.
What he does care about however, is how dense you are towards his acts of affection. As stated, he gives you more gifts than anyone else he knows. But another thing he does that he's surprised doesn't get you to catch on, is him "jokingly" calling your Mx Kamisato (he's half joking, he does want to marry you)
What surprises him more is that you somehow think it's directed to someone else?? You question him on who he's referring to even though he was looking directly at you.
Eventually he gently backs you into a corner and makes you face him, turning your chin towards him.
"My dear...I've tried everything but you don't get the hint. So I'll say it here...I love you~"
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You found some poems that Kazuha had written, and it's about someone. In fact, it's about someone romantically. This caused you to quickly search for who said love poem is about.
One of the kids witnessed you ranting to yourself about who could've taken the samurai's heart and told Beidou, who then found it amusing enough to tell Kazuha who at first laughs it off before realising you've likely read the poems he wrote. He is thankful you haven't found out it's about you, but at the same time. He doesn't think you've met anyone that's like you, and the love poem does describe you near perfectly. Still...at least you haven't found out?
He watches from a small distance as you glance at him before looking away. This happens a lot, especially when he's talking to a friend who questions your behaviour. In fact, you've done this so much that people assume you're Kazuha's partner and want his attention. They even comment about it to which you both politely explain that you're just friends.
Eventually though, he makes no comment when someone assumes the two of you are dating, which makes you question him which leads to you finally figuring out who the love poem is about.
"Wait so...the love poems..."
"Is about you yes, I like you"
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I can see him being quite confused himself when he realises he likes someone and might even tell you about how he's feeling. He won't directly say who it is but he tells enough to let you know he's fallen DEEP in love with someone.
Now the two of you are trying to figure out just who's the one making his heart beat faster and clouding his mind. In truth, Xiao quickly realizes it's you that's causing it. But he can't tell you, he's a bit too flustered to tell you, especially with how cute you look trying to figure it out yourself.
So he lets the search go on, he allows you to drag him to meet various people and see if he feels his heart beating faster. And while it does, that's only because you're beside him. Nothing else. He was happy enough to let you guess till you gave up, he didn't think you'd like him back anyways.
However Hu Tao would beg to differ, she's been listening to you rant about how you loved Xiao and all that stuff. In fact, she's even heard from Zhongli that Xiao likes you. So when you come along with the Adeptus in tow and ask him if he feels any different towards her. She has a feeling she knows what's going on. And why not play matchmaker?
"You don't feel anything at all?"
"No..."
The funeral directly quickly piped up, gently pushing you into Xiao's arms and watching his face burst into shades of crimson.
"What about now? Having the love of your life in your arms is bound to make you feel something right?"
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She...out right flirts with you. And not in a way to get info from you, just...actual flirting. Yelan knows what she wants and tends to get what she wants. More so in terms of information, but she also wants you and will try anything to make you realize her feelings for you.
She probably knows you like her as well, so this should be easy right? Just flirt with you and you'll get the picture right?...Yeah...
"I would love to spend the future with you y'know darling~ Especially in the same house"
"Oh that would be great"
"Exa-"
"Rent would be so much cheaper if we were roommates"
She...finds your obliviousness cute...in a weird way though. She finds it even more cute that you do in fact recognize her flirting eventually...but think she's using you as practice. Now she spots you trying to figure out who it is so you can help her more. And "act" like her crush. She does need to eventually tell you so you can stop searching, I mean. The answer is clear if you look in a mirror.
"C'mon Lanlan, you need to tell who you actually like"
"Hm? Oh but I am sweetie~"
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Ningguang is obviously highly respected and of course has her own set of admirers. You used to see her reading each letter with care and consideration before laughing. Not in a hateful way, truly she's grateful people like her that much. But recently she seems to read them a bit faster, seemingly searching for one name in particular.
It's clear to you she wants a certain person to be in her pile of confession letters. And you'll figure out who. I mean, what better way to help your friend then finding out who she likes and seeing if they like her back right :D
Well...word got to her that you've been searching through some of her things, nothing personal but just around her office. Not to mention observing her more closely lately which she plays off as you being interested in what she has to say. But when she hears that you've apparently scared a poor soul with some of your questioning she goes to confront you.
To which you weakly explain you want to help her find out if her crush likes her back or not. She simply laughs a bit, surprised. She's been giving you special treatment ever since she found out her feelings for you. You've been given bigger discounts because she just cannot let her "darling" pay so much. Alongside other things she thought were obvious hints in the hopes you'll write her a confession letter.
"Well...if you want to help me find out if they like me back, answer me this"
"Yeah?"
"Do you like me?"
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Anyone else find it hard to know when someone likes them? Cuz I do, hence this idea sprang forth. Not all the characters included are ones I simp for but I thought it would be interesting to add them (I literally only simp for Alhaitham and Ayato out of the characters included tbh nsoaorgr)
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ofstarsandvibranium · 17 days
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Precious Truths: Part I
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.
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Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.
After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.
She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.
Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.
"Maybe some day," you'd always say.
What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.
You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.
But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.
_______________________
The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "
You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.
"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."
People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.
You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"
"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.
You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."
Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."
You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."
You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."
"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."
You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."
"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.
"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.
"Very much so, I'm afraid."
Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.
The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."
"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.
You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.
_____________________
"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.
"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."
"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.
"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."
Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"
Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."
Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."
Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."
Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."
Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."
_________________________
"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.
You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."
"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."
You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"
"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."
You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."
Kate shrugs, "As you wish."
Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.
"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."
He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.
724 notes · View notes
pockettwinzz · 29 days
Text
Bully - P.JY
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୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Lots of bullying, degrading, blood, hitting, trauma, sick parent, kissing, smut, NSFW, fluff, angst
୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : sorry for such drastic turns in this- (i was just trying to make a happy ending or else y'all might kill me kksksks) and yeah there's a poem in it too, i wrote it lolol. I'm not satisfied with this but oh well.. I pray that all some of my moots(who are also my faves) don't read this shi-
𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 <3
୨୧ Word Count ୨୧ : 6.6k | 35,514 characters
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You hated this place. The oppressive humidity sticks to your skin like a second layer of clothing. Even the air feels heavy, as if the atmosphere itself were a physical weight dragging you down. The sky is a relentless shade of gray, like someone smeared charcoal across the horizon, and the constant drizzle turns everything into a uniform shade of drab. You were sitting on the edge of the school's roof, your legs dangling over the edge. Your school backpack sat beside you, its contents scattered around you like a pathetic offering to the gods of lost hopes and dreams.
The sound of footsteps echoes across the rooftop, growing louder with each step. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see a teacher or a security guard approaching. But it's him, Jay. He struts across the rooftop with an arrogant swagger that you know all too well. His dirty-blond hair is slicked back, and his piercing brown eyes are narrowed into a predatory glare. He's dressed in a tight black T-shirt and dark jeans that hug his muscular frame. You can't help but feel a shiver of fear run down your spine.
Jay stops in front of you, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little mouse herself," he says with a sneer. "What are you doing up here, Yn? Trying to run away from your problems again?"
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the venom in his voice. "I just need some time alone, Jay," you reply, your voice steady despite your racing heart. "Leave me alone."
He laughs, a cruel sound that grates on your nerves. "Oh, I'm not here to leave you alone, Yn. You know that." He steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I'll never leave you alone"
Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to remain still and calm. You know what he's capable of, and you don't want to provoke him any further. "What do you mean, Jay? I don't have anything that belongs to you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jay's laugh is cold and mocking. "Oh, I don't want anything you have, mouse. I just want to make you suffer a little bit. You've been so lucky for so long, hiding behind your friends and your teachers. Well, today's the day that all that changes."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, worn leather book. You recognize it immediately; it was your diary. Jay snickers as he holds it up for you to see. "I found this little gem in your locker today. It's been so entertaining reading about all the things you've said about me." He winks, and the gesture is so revolting that you feel a shudder run through you. "Oh, and speaking of things you've said…"
He takes a step back and then, with a swift motion, kicks you as hard as he can in the stomach. The air is forced from your lungs in a painful whoosh, and you collapse to the ground, curled up in a ball. Tears well up in your eyes as you gasp for breath, the wet pavement pressing uncomfortably into your back. You feel a hot stinging sensation spread across your abdomen where he kicked you.
"That's for talking shit about me, mouse," he says, his voice cold and cruel. "And if you ever think about telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you regret it." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you there on the ground, hurt and frightened. You want to cry out, to beg for mercy, but you're too scared to make a sound. All you can do is lie there and try to catch your breath, the taste of bile rising in the back of your throat.
You try to pull yourself up onto your elbows, wincing as the pain in your stomach flares anew, but you can't seem to get any air into your lungs. It feels like Jay has punched the wind out of you, both literally and figuratively. You close your eyes, feeling hot tears well up in the corners, and try to will yourself to breathe.
A few shallow gasps manage to find their way into your lungs, and with each one, you feel a tiny bit more like you can handle this. You force yourself to sit up, pressing your back against the walls for support, and take several deep, ragged breaths. The pain in your stomach begins to subside a little, and you're finally able to focus on something other than the ache.
"What am I going to do?" you whisper to yourself. You know you can't go to the teachers or your friends; Jay would only deny everything, and they wouldn't believe you anyway. And even if they did, they might not be able to protect you from him. You feel trapped, helpless, like there's no way out of this nightmare.
You close your eyes, trying to think of some sort of plan, but all you can see is Jay's angry face and the pain in your stomach. You decide to wait until the end of the day, when everyone else has left the school grounds, and then you'll find some way to get home without him noticing. Maybe if you can just stay out of his sight for a little while longer, things will eventually go back to normal.
Well, it's safe to say things aren't going as planned. The following week passes by in a blur of fear and avoidance. You manage to stay out of Jay's sight during school hours, but you're always on edge, waiting for the moment when his gaze will fall upon you. You're constantly looking over your shoulder, feeling like he's watching you even when you know he isn't. It's exhausting, and the stress starts to take a toll on your grades and your friendships.
Finally, one afternoon as you're hurrying to your next class, you catch a glimpse of him in the hallway. Your heart stops in your chest, and you feel like you can't breathe. He sees you, too, and starts to walk purposefully in your direction. You break into a panicked run, trying to lose him in the crowd, but he's too fast. He catches up to you and grabs your arm roughly, yanking you into an empty classroom.
"What do you want from me?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't do anything!"
Jay just laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, you didn't do anything? Is that what you're going with?" He shoves you roughly against the chalkboard, pinning you there with one hand. "You're a pathetic and dumb liar, you know that?"
You cough, trying to catch your breath. "Jay, I swear I didn't-"
He cuts you off with a harsh shove. "Save it. You know what you did." His grip tightens on your arm, and it feels like he's crushing your bone. "Now, I want you to tell me where it is."
You try to pull away, but he's too strong. "Where's what?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face.
Jay sighs, as if you're being painfully dense. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I know you have it. And I want it back."
You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your face. "I don't have it! I swear! I don't know what you're talking about!"
Jay's grip tightens painfully, and he yanks you closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Don't lie to me," he whispers menacingly.
You cry out, trying to pull away from him, but it's no use. "I'm not lying! I swear I don't have it!"
Jay's face turns red with anger, and he shoves you roughly against the chalkboard again, the sharp edges biting into your back. Jay laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, come on. You expect me to believe that?" He presses the heel of his hand against your cheek, forcing your head back against the chalkboard. "You're just as bad a liar as you are a thief."
He's not letting up. Every blow feels like it's breaking something new inside you. You want to scream, but you can't find the breath. You feel like you're choking on his anger, like it's filling your lungs and blocking everything else out. The pain is intense, but the fear is worse. Fear that this will never end, fear that he'll really kill you this time, fear that no one will ever believe you if you do survive.
He throws you to the ground, your head hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. The pain shoots through your skull, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Jay stands over you, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. You try to crawl away, but your body feels numb and weak. You can feel warm blood trickling down your face and neck, stinging your skin.
"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out between ragged breaths. "I'm so sorry." You spoke before you passes out, before your body completely gives out.
Jay watches you, unblinking, as your eyes flutter shut and your chest barely rises and falls. He stands there for a moment, his anger slowly dissipating, replaced by a strange sort of feeling. Regret? Maybe. Guilt? Hard to say. But he knows he can't leave you like this. He reaches down, rolling you onto your side gently, shaking your figure, "H-hey" he whispers "Wake up!"
"YN!! WAKE UP!" Jay shouts, shaking you harder. He feels tears streaming down his face as he tries to wake you up, but you just lie there, motionless. Panic surges through him as he realizes that he might have gone too far.
One of his friends, Jungwon, suddenly bursts into the room, taking in the scene before him with wide eyes. "Jay! What the fuck is going on?"
Jay looks up at Jungwon, panic still etching lines on his face. "I-I don't know. She just wouldn't wake up." He points at you, the tears streaming down his cheeks now.
"Call an ambulance right now" Jungwon says, his voice quivering. He looks at Jay, then back at you, and then back at Jay again, still unable to process what's happening. He dials 911 and hands the phone to Jay, who takes a deep breath before giving the operator their address.
--
You wake up to open curtains and a soft bed beneath you. The room is white, clean, and quiet. You take a deep breath and sit up, your head throbbing. You don't recognize the room or the person sitting by your bedside. Hell, you don't even remember why you were there.
Your parents rushed into the room, relief and worry etched on their faces. They flank you, their arms around your shoulders. "Oh, sweetie," your mom whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We were so worried." Your dad nods, his voice thick as he says, "We don't know what happened."
"Well," you manage, still trying to piece it together, "I d-don't remember anything…" You trail off, frowning.
Your parents exchange worried glances. Your dad squeezes your shoulder. "That's okay, sweetie. We're just glad you're here and safe now."
--
The following months are a blur of doctors, therapy. They think you don't remember anything but; You remember everything. The feeling of Jay's hands around your throat, the sound of his voice raised in anger, the pain of your body hitting the ground. You try to convince yourself that it was all just a terrible nightmare, but you can't shake the sense of foreboding that follows you everywhere.
You hadn't told anyone about the dreams. You didn't want them to worry, or think that you were losing your mind. But they were so vivid, so real, that it was hard to pretend they were just nightmares. Sometimes, when you were alone in your room, you could almost feel Jay's hands around your throat again, could almost hear his voice raised in anger. It was like he was haunting you, reminding you of what had happened and what could still happen if you didn't stay careful.
Going to school back after all this was a struggle. You felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You could feel the weight of their eyes on your back. You couldn't help but wonder if Jay was still out there, watching you too. Sometimes, when you thought you saw him in the hallway, your heart would skip a beat and you'd feel a cold sweat break out on your back.
Your friends were there for you, or at least they tried to be. They made sure you never walked home alone, and they always stayed close by your side. They didn't understand what had happened, and they didn't want to push you. But you could see the worry in their eyes, the fear that maybe this wasn't the end of it.
One day, as you're walking through the hallway, you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. You turn around, expecting it to be one of your friends playing a joke on you. But it's not. It's him. Jay. He looks different - his hair is shorter, he's lost some weight. But it's definitely him. His eyes are cold and hard as he says, "I've been looking for you."
You try to remain calm, but your heart is racing. You can't think of anything to say. "What do you want?" you manage to choke out.
"I-I'm sorry." He says, his voice shaking. "I don't know what came over me that night. I was just so angry…I lost control. I never meant to hurt you that badly." He steps closer, his voice lowering.
Your heart races as he says this. You can feel the fear rising up in your throat, choking you. You want to believe him, but you can't help but remember the way he felt when he had his hands around your throat, the sound of his voice as he screamed at you.
"It doesn't matter," you manage to choke out. "Just leave me alone." You turn away from him, wanting to put some distance between you. But he grabs your arm, his grip gentle.
"Please, I need to talk to you. I can't explain it, but I feel like things have been so messed up since that night. I don't want us to be like this anymore." He looks at you pleadingly, and for a moment, you almost believe him.
You hesitate, your heart racing. You can't help but wonder if this is all some sort of twisted game. But you can't deny the desperation in his eyes, the way he seems to truly regret what happened. "Okay," you say slowly.
He nods, looking relieved. "Thank you," he says, his voice softening. "I don't want things to go back to how they were before."
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and hope in your chest. "Okay," you say slowly.
He nods, seeming to gain confidence from your agreement. "I just want to say that I'm sorry for what I did," he begins. "I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so lost since my mom has been... not so well and I've been taking it out on everyone around me. I never meant to hurt you."
You listen carefully to him, trying to decide if you believe him or not. A part of you wants to trust him, but another part of you can't help but remember the way he looked in your eyes that night, the way he hurt you. You stay silent, not sure what to say.
"I know it's hard to believe me," he says, "but I swear I'm not the same person I was before. I've been going to therapy, trying to work through my issues. I just want to start over with you." He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.
You're still not sure what to think. A part of you wants to believe him, wants to trust him again. But another part of you is scared, afraid that if you let your guard down, he'll hurt you again. You decide to give him a chance, "Okay," you say softly. "I'll try."
He seems to relax a little, taking your words as a sign of hope. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I'll never hurt you again. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you."
--
Jay had become a total sweetheart since that night. He was always checking in on you, making sure you were okay, and constantly apologizing for his behavior. He even started including you in his plans with his friends, making an effort to get to know you better. It felt like he was really trying to make things right.
He'd been true to his word, and you found yourself beginning to trust him again. You enjoyed spending time with him, and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that he was a good person deep down. He'd just been going through a rough patch. You forgave him for what happened, and slowly but surely, you began to feel closer to him again.
One day, as you sat together at lunch, you noticed a group of girls from your class glaring at you. "What are they looking at?" you ask Jay, feeling a little self-conscious.
He follows your gaze and frowns. "Probably just jealous," he says with a shrug. "They're just mad because they can't be us." He grins at you, then leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, you're really special to me. I mean, you're the only person I've ever really cared about. It's like, with you, everything just feels right." His words make your heart flutter, and you can't help but smile back at him.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you stand up to gather your things. "Hey," Jay says, taking your hand in his, "do you want to hang out after school? We could go get coffee or something."
You blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. "Sure," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "That sounds nice."
After school, you and Jay walk to a local coffee shop, hand in hand. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the city as you step inside the cozy little shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and you can't help but feel relaxed.
You find a table in the back, away from the crowds, and Jay orders you both a drink. As you wait for it to arrive, you can't help but marvel at how different things feel between the two of you now. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you can finally just enjoy being with him.
"So," Jay says, taking a sip of his coffee, "I've been thinking about what we should do for our next date. I was thinking maybe we could go see a movie or go out for dinner. What do you think?"
"Already thinking bout another?" you tease, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "I mean, we just got here." You take a sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest. "A movie does sound nice, though. What about that one with the cute animals? You know, the one that's been out for awhile but you haven't seen yet?"
Jay chuckles. "Yeah, that one sounds good. I've been meaning to catch it too. And as for another date, well, I'm just excited to spend more time with you, that's all." He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his again, giving it a squeeze. "You really are something special."
You could feel the butterflies in your stomach return. "Thanks," you manage to say, not quite meeting his eyes. You take another sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your body. It feels good to be wanted, to be loved. You glance around the coffee shop, taking in the people walking by, the sound of coffee being made, the soft murmur of conversation.
"So," you say, trying to change the subject, "what have you been up to lately? Anything interesting?" You want to know everything about him, to know what makes him tick.
"Oh, you know, just the usual. School, work, trying to find time to sleep," Jay says with a laugh. "But I've actually been working on this side project, something just for fun. I'm making a small song for someone." He grins at you, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride.
"Really?" you ask, genuinely excited. "That's so cool. I'd love to hear it sometime."
Jay leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You'll have to wait then." He winks, and you feel your stomach flip-flop. "But I promise you won't be disappointed."
The evening passes by in a blur of laughter and conversation. You and Jay find yourselves completely lost in each other's company, hardly noticing the time slipping away. You can't help but squeal and giggle at all the right moments. As you walk out of the café, hand in hand, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. You've never felt this way before, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
You decide to walk around the city for awhile, taking in the sights and sounds. The air is crisp and cool, and the lights of the city twinkle like stars against the night sky. Jay's arm is around your waist, and you can't help but feel safe and protected when he's near.
He dropped you off at your apartment earlier than usual, knowing that you had an early class in the morning. You didn't want him to leave, but he insisted, giving you a soft kiss goodnight. As he drove away, you stood in the doorway, watching his car until it disappeared from sight.
--
It had been a few days since your date with Jay, and you can't help but feel a little antsy. Every time your phone buzzes, you hope it's him. You've texted him a few times, but he always seems to be busy with school or work. You're trying not to be too clingy, but it's hard not to miss him.
He hasn't been coming to school lately, and you're starting to worry. You check your phone obsessively, hoping for a text from him, but there's only silence. You decide to take matters into your own hands and track him down. You had even asked Jungwon about it, but he just shrugged and said that Jay had been pretty secretive about his personal life. So, you send Jay a message, telling him you're thinking about him and hope everything's okay.
It wasn't until you received a call from him that you finally heard his voice again. Your heart skipped a beat as you answered, feeling a rush of relief wash over you. "Hey, what's up?"
You could hear crying on the other end of the line, and your heart sank. "Jay, what's wrong? Are you okay?" you ask, your voice shaking.
He sniffles, and you can almost feel the pain in his voice. "I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you. It's just… my mom. She's really sick, and the doctor says…" His voice trails off, and you can tell he's struggling to hold it together.
You're stunned into silence for a moment. You didn't know Jay had a mom. "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" You're sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching the blanket in your hands.
"No, no, it's okay. I just… I don't want to talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know, so you wouldn't worry. I'm sorry I worried you in the first place." He sniffles again.
You pause, taking a deep breath. "You don't have to apologize. I care about you, and I want to be here for you, okay? Whatever you need, I'm here. Should I come over?"
Jay's voice is still shaky, but there's a hint of relief in it. "No, no, that's… that's really sweet of you, but I don't want you to see me like this. I'm a mess." He sniffles again. "I just wanted you to know. I'll… I'll let you know if there's anything I need, okay?"
Your heart aches for him, and you want nothing more than to be there for him. "Okay, Jay. You know you can call me anytime, right? If you ever need someone to talk to"
He sniffles again, and you can almost picture him wiping his eyes. "Thanks, Yn. You're really sweet. I'll… I'll keep you posted. I gotta go now, okay?"
The call ended, and you're left with a heavy heart. You stare at your phone for a moment, feeling helpless. There was a weird feeling in your stomach, like a mixture of sadness and fear. You knew that Jay was going through a tough time, and you wanted to be there for him. But you also felt selfish, like you wanted him to be there for you too.
You couldn't focus on anything for the rest of the day. You kept thinking about Jay and his mom, wondering if there was anything you could do to help. You knew he'd said he'd keep you posted, but the wait was agonizing.
A few days later, you receive another call from Jay. Your heart leaps into your throat when you see his name on the screen. "Hey, Yn. I'm… I'm really sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know… things aren't looking good with my mom. The doctor says her chances of surviving... Aren't much" His voice breaks, and you can hear the pain in his words.
You're stunned into silence, your mind racing with all the things you want to say but can't find the words for. Finally, you manage to croak out, "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"
Jay sniffles and clears his throat. "C-can you come over?" he stutters. "I-I don't want to be alone right now."
"Of course, Jay. I'm on my way. Just send me your address"
You hang up the phone, feeling a mix of sadness and fear. You quickly find Jay's address and input it into your GPS. As you drive over to his house, your mind races with all the things you could say to comfort him. You know you can't take away his pain, but you want to be there for him in any way you can.
When you arrive at his house, you park your car and hurry to the front door. Jay answers it after a few moments, his eyes red and puffy. He doesn't say anything, just stands there, looking lost. You reach out and hug him, feeling his body shake with sobs as he clings to you. You let him cry for a moment, just holding him and rubbing his back.
As you enter the living room. You see it's dimly lit, and there's an overwhelming smell of medication in the air. You sit down next to him on the couch, and he leans into you, still crying. You don't know what to say, so you just hold him and let him cry. After a while, he pulls away and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I-I'm sorry, Yn. I didn't mean to… I just… I don't know what to do," he stammers. You pat his knee and hand him a tissue.
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be strong right now. You can cry. And you know, I'm here for you. We'll figure this out together, okay?" You say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.
Jay sniffles and nods, wiping his face with the tissue. "Thanks… I just don't want her to be alone. I can't even imagine…" His voice trails off, and he looks away, staring blankly at a photo of his mom on the coffee table.
You take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "You know, Jay, she's not alone. You're there with her, and I'm here with you. We'll get through this together, okay?" You look into his eyes, hoping that he can see the sincerity in yours.
He nods, sniffling, and wipes his nose again. "I-I just don't want her to suffer, you know? The doctor says there's not much more they can do, and I-I can't bear the thought of her being in pain."
"I feel so useless" Jay whispers, shaking his head. "She's the strongest person I know, and I can't do anything to help her." You squeeze his hand and lean in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Jay, she knows you're here for her. She knows how much you love her, and how much you're hurting right now. That means more to her than anything. Just being with her, holding her hand, talking to her, listening to her… that's all she needs right now."
"B-but-" Jay starts to protest, but you shush him by placing your lips on his. The kiss is gentle at first, a soft brush of lips against lips, but it grows more intense as he responds. Jay's hands move from your sides to your face, holding you to him. You can feel the raw emotion radiating from him, and it only serves to heighten the connection between you.
As the kiss ends, you pull back slightly, gazing into his eyes. "She knows, Jay. She knows that you're here for her, and that you love her more than anything. Just be there for her, okay? That's all she needs right now." You reach up and wipe a tear from his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
"And," you say, taking a deep breath, "I care about you, Jay. I care about your mom, too. You're not alone. This probably isn't the best time for this but, I love you Jay." You look into his eyes, trying to convey all of this with your gaze.
He seems to register this, his eyes widening slightly, before he blinks and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I love you too, Yn." Then he takes your hand, kissing the back of your palm. "Thank you."
--
Months pass by, and Jay's mother's condition gets better. You're there for him every step of the way, holding his hand, listening to his fears, and sharing your own strength with him. There are good days and bad days, but you find comfort in knowing that Jay has someone who truly cares about him, someone who will never leave his side.
One afternoon, as you're watching a movie together on the couch, Jay leans in close, his lips brushing against yours. You melt into the kiss, feeling the warmth of his body and the desperation in his embrace. It's a passionate, intense kiss, and it's clear that Jay has been wanting this for a long time.
It felt so perfect to be in Jay's arms again. The weight of his body pressed against yours, his lips moving against yours, their warmth spreading through you. You moan into the kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair as he pulls you even closer. You can feel his heart racing against yours, the thudding of it in your chest matching the rhythm of your own. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts over your shirt, and you gasp into his mouth as desire surges through you.
He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own glassy with desire. "I want you," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. "I've wanted you for so long." He kisses you again, more urgently this time, as his hands move to unbutton your shirt. You help him, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.
As soon as your shirt is off, he groans, his lips moving down your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. His hands find their way up your sides, under your bra, cupping your breasts over your lace-covered nipples. You gasp as his touch ignites a fire in your chest. You reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and off, revealing his smooth, toned chest.
Jay leans in closer, their bodies flush against each other. His lips meet yours once more, his tongue darting out to tease and explore your mouth. His hands slide up your sides, around your waist, and down to your hips, lifting you up slightly so that you're straddling his lap. He groans into the kiss, feeling the heat between your legs pressed against his hard length.
You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as he rolls his hips, grinding his erection against you. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, urging you to move against him. You moan into the kiss, feeling the familiar ache begin to build inside you.
He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. His teeth scrape against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingers slide between you, parting your wet folds, and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out as he smiles against your skin.
You rock your hips against his hand, feeling the need building inside you, growing more insistent with each passing moment. "I need you so b-bad" your voice breathless and desperate. Jay groans, his fingers moving faster, stroking you in a rhythm that matches the ache in your core.
His other hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast over your nipple. You cry out, arching your back as he rolls the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger. His lips find your neck again, sucking and nipping at your skin as he thrusts his hips, pushing his erection deeper against you.
You feel the familiar tugging sensation deep inside you, and with a groan, you begin to climax, your body tensing and convulsing around him. Jay holds you tightly, his fingers still moving as he brings you to the peak of pleasure again and again. He kisses you passionately, their tongues tangling together as your cries of pleasure echo around the room.
His hips begin to move faster, harder, matching the rhythm of your climaxes. You feel him get closer and closer, and with a hoarse cry, he thrusts deeply inside you, his body tense and shuddering as he releases himself, filling you completely. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel his weight pressing you into the bed as he comes down from the high of their shared passion.
You both catch your breath, your chests rising and falling in unison. Jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before moving lower, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. "You're incredible," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. .
As you both begin to catch your breath, Jay slides out of you, taking his weight off and moving up to lie beside you. He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you from behind. His arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting on your hip, while the other cups your breast over your still-hardened nipple. You feel his erection pressed against your back, and you can't help but arch your hips slightly into him.
He kisses your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder. "I could do this all day," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Just feel you wrapped around me like this."
You let out a soft moan "Me too," you reply, your voice husky with desire. "I could stay like this forever."
--
You were giggling as you clutched the blindfold, "Babe~" you whined playfully, you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest, and then his lips pressed into your neck, just below your ear.
"Do you wanna hear my song now?" He asked, his lips moving against your skin. "I've been practicing it all day." You could feel him smile against your neck. He opened your blind fold and placed you onto the couch as he lifted his guitar.
His fingers danced over the strings, the sound filling the room.
"In the realm of love and devotion,
Where hearts entwine in sweet emotion,
I stand before you, my love so true,
With words of hope and promise anew.
Upon a hill, beneath the stars above,
I declare my intentions, my undying love,
To spend forever by your side,
As partners in life, on love's sweet ride.
I bring to you a ring of gold,
A symbol of the love we hold,
A promise made, a vow so true,
To cherish and honor, to always be true.
With each step taken, our love does grow,
A bond that only lovers know,
Through joy and tears, through thick and thin,
Together we'll face life's battles and win.
I vow to be your rock, your guiding light,
To hold you close on every night,
To be your shelter in life's storm,
To keep you safe, to keep you warm.
Our love will be a beacon bright,
A shining star in the darkest night,
Guiding us through life's twists and turns,
With a flame that forever burns.
So will you, my love, be my partner for life,
To stand by my side as husband and wife,
To share in each other's triumphs and tears,
To love and cherish through all the years?
With this ring, I make my plea,
To spend forever in love with thee,
To be your partner, your best friend,
Until the very end.
So let us vow, on this day,
To love and cherish, come what may,
To walk hand in hand, through life's great dance,
With love and devotion, in sweet romance.
And as we stand, hearts beating as one,
Our journey together has just begun,
With love as our guide, we'll soar above,
In the epic tale of our eternal love."
As the last note of the song faded into the air, you felt tears well up in your eyes. Jay had written this song just for you, and it was absolutely beautiful. You could feel the emotion behind every word, and it made your heart swell with love and gratitude.
He set his guitar aside and moved back to spoon you from behind. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. "So," he began, his voice quiet but steady, "Will you be my partner, my love, my wife?"
Tears streamed down your face as you turned your head to look at him. "Yes," you whispered, "Yes, Jay, I will." You felt your heart swell with love and happiness, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. "I love you so much, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
He smiled at you, his eyes shining with tears of his own. "I love you too, Ynnie. I promise to always cherish you, to protect you, and to make you the happiest woman in the world." He kissed you softly on the lips, his tongue tracing the outline of your mouth before slipping inside.
The kiss deepened, and time seemed to stand still as you were lost in the feeling of being close to him. You could feel his heart racing against yours, and it only served to remind you of how perfectly you fit together.
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woewriting · 2 months
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basorexia (i)
pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: you're dying to know what cairo's lips taste like. word count: 2295 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no pronouns used, kissing, slightly nsfw, sexual tension, a bit angsty, not exactly a happy ending, sorry...
part 1 . part 2 | masterlist
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Clearing your throat for the 5th time since class started, you tried to look away from the girl that stood in front of the class, paper in hands as she read the words written on it to everyone. The brown eyes would often travel around looking for any reactions that she would entice, from Mr. Miller, to her best-friend, to the rest of the students and finally landing on you. 
Cairo gave you a brief smile, but enough to make you blush. The heat wave taking over your body, making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Sitting in the front row, that close to her, was not the best idea.
As the brunette finished presenting her paper, the professor motioned for her to return to her seat, right next to you. Also not a good idea, but she insisted and it wasn’t hard to comply with her wishes. You swallowed hard, eyes looking at your hands that rested on your lap, avoiding to look at her, being this closed never failed to agitate your heart, especially after her readings.
“So,” Cairo leaned closer, whispering in your ear with a sweet voice. “What did you think?”
“It was incredible, as well as everything you've ever written. You have a way with words that never fails to astonish me.”
The girl let out a small laugh. “Is ‘astonish’ your word of the day?”
“How did you guess?” You retorted in the same playful tone.
You finally looked at her. Big mistake, if you cared to admit to yourself.
Cairo was close, leaning into your personal space as she always did to test your reactions. Her eyes carried unspoken words that you wished she’d share with you the same way she does when working on her writing, but it never seemed to be something that would, eventually, come to reality. She had many things she wanted to share, unfortunately, none involved you.
Not directly, at least.
Feeling your throat dry at the sudden closeness, your eyes darted from hers, down to her lips where a small smile rested, knowing damn well the effect she had on you. 
“I can read you like a poem.” She whispered, pulling back to pay attention to the rest of the class.
It was a truthful statement, she can read you as if you were written by a high schooler, with shallow, badly used words that confuses everyone around, including you.
Sometimes it felt like she was interpreting you wrongly, in her own ways.
And that only made you more confused as to what was the feeling you felt when she was beside you. And what she felt for you.
Yet, you burn inside to hear her mind. 
The rest of the morning went by like the wind, occasionally blowing on your hair, threatening to rain every second. Like every other ordinary day. 
Cairo would spend time either writing or reading in her own world, completely focused on the words she would type on her laptop, stealing glances from you every now and then when Winnie’s laugh got her attention. You pretend not to feel the brown eyes burning your side profile, but the brunette always noticed the way you gulp and bite on your lower lip before returning her attention to her work. 
Only then you’d look at her. And it was as if the world was muted by whoever controls this reality, making everything disappear as you gazed at her face, from the messy fringe that covered her forehead to the light-colored dots that were spread on her skin, your favorite one being a small freckle on her lip that you wished to kiss away and steal it for you.
You were dying to know how she tastes, if it was bitter like the coffee she insists is better than any other sugary garbage you and Winnie chooses to drink, or if it was minty like the cigarettes that always rested in her hands. Maybe it tasted like cinnamon because of the gum she carries in her back pocket, or cherries since she loves to eat them when she’s alone at home.
Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Winnie Black and whatever was the subject she seemed excited to talk about, and all you could do was laugh when she did. 
Cairo noticed your behavior.
On your way through the trees, you trailed behind her, just admiring the way she would kneel whenever a new insect crossed her way. 
“Don’t you think they’re cute?” She asked with glowing eyes, looking hypnotized by the green praying-mantis in her hands. 
“It would be more interesting if they could kung-fu.” 
Cairo rolled her eyes at your joke, coming closer to you to lay the innocent animal in your own hands, a disgusted feature took over your face once you felt the tickles in your skin. 
“If they could kung-fu, you’d be dead by now.” She joked back, walking her way out of the woods that led to the old, empty mansion on the other side, leaving you behind unsure on what to do with the tiny creature in your hands. Luckily, it jumped off on its own as if it had noticed your discomfort. 
You laughed to yourself, following her once again.
The old place had slowly become your second house as you stayed there more than at your actual home. With Cairo’s parents out for most of the days on working trips, you’d find yourself more comfortable with the other’s presence as you both worked on your assignment in silence after class.
It was dark outside the window when you let out a sigh of relief, finally finished with your work. Looking over to Cairo, she still had the laptop on her lap, but little did you know she had finished her own homework way before you.
“Do you know what ‘basorexia’ means?” Her voice made you stare at her with a confused aura. You denied with your head, sitting back up on the chair you were in. Cairo took one last drag on the cigarette that rested between her fingers before putting it out on the small, porcelain plate on the nightstand by her bed. She walked to you at a slow, calculated pace until she was standing in front of you. “It means ‘the overwhelming desire to kiss someone’.” She explained, calmly placing herself on your lap.
“What are you doing?” You choked on your voice, trying to back yourself away from her, but her hands firmly on your shoulders and legs resting side by side with yours made you stay in place. 
“I want the truth.”
“What truth, Cairo?”
When the brunette leaned closer, you could smell the mint in her breath. Her fingers found the collar of your shirt, touching your neck with the tip of them.
“About what you want.” Her eyes were dark, pupils full blown at the feeling of you so tensed up under her touch. “I see the way you look at me, an overflowing desire that is almost drowning you in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to play off, but your voice failed you as you looked away from her, focusing on the vintage furniture that decorated her bedroom; everything looked so antique, matching perfectly with the personality of the girl stranding your lap. 
Cairo’s hand left your shoulder to lock your chin over her index finger as she made you look at her.
“You can lie to yourself as many times as you want, but you cannot lie to me.” Her thumb brushed softly on your lower lip and you had to stop yourself from sucking it into your mouth. “You think you’re doing a great job at hiding what’s in your head, but your body gives away your true intentions.”
“And how’s that?” The low, curious tone in your voice made the girl lean closer, brushing her lips against yours.
“Your eyes love to travel up and down my body, but they seem to have a strange obsession with my lips.” She licked on them, the tip of her tongue touching you. You closed your eyes for a mere second, but the small tilt on your chin made you open them again. “Your cheeks gain a pinkish tone whenever I lean closer to you and you stop breathing as if the air I let out is toxic. Your hands refuse to touch me out of fear I’ll burn under your touch.” The hand that wasn't holding you in place found yours that were glued to your sides, making them rest on her thigh. “So, I want you to tell me what’s going on inside your pretty little head.”
Cairo Sweet is objective, what she wants, she’ll have it. One way or another. And she had her own ways to justify the means.
Your brain tried to form a single sentence, but the words had left your vocabulary, all it had left was the new word you had just learned: basorexia. 
Was that what you felt in your chest? 
Once again, the girl proved to be ahead of you, knowing your true wishes. Reading you like an open book displayed on her desk among the others that she devours. 
You took one last deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before you let out all that’s been troubling you since you first met Cairo.
“I want to kiss you. But only once, I think.” The girl smiled, reaching out for your other hand so that now both rested on her thighs. “I just want to know what it’s like and I’ve spent enough time staring at your lips that I can’t bear the thought of never finding out.”
“What if I don’t want to kiss you?” 
“Then that makes us two liars instead of one.” Your voice was nothing but a lowly whisper, afraid to break that thick tension that surrounded the both of you like the smoke that Cairo blew out of her mouth.
Your hands moved up and down, never trespassing the fabric of her black skirt. You didn't want to abuse a boundary that you didn't know existed, but imagined. Everything about Cairo was a mystery, she spent more time hidden in the words of her books than actually expressing her wishes out loud, it was rare the times she felt comfortable saying them, and when she did, it felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane.
Her hands were heavy on your shoulder, slowly moving to tangle in your hair to pull your head back. You looked at her with half-opened eye lids and parted lips as she carefully analyzed you, deciding on what should be her next step. All she knew was that, after the first one, she couldn’t take two back.
Cairo fixed herself on your lap, holding back a heavy breath that threatened to escape her throat at the touch of your burning hands moving past her skirt. You wanted to grab the flesh and move her against you just to hear that sound again.
You watched with hypnotized eyes when she stopped smiling, hovering over you with open lips, her hot breath mixing with yours, but never closing the small gap between the two of you. She was unsure, hesitant, almost as if waiting for someone to push her off the edge of a cliff.
This time you took the first step, your hands held her waist and your torso moved against hers to capture her lips with your own, sucking on her bottom lip. Cairo kissed you with hunger, easily taking control of the situation with her hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you towards her as she pushed herself on you, not even air could go through you.
She tasted divine on your tongue, even more than you could ever dream of, and the sounds that were escaping from her parted lips whenever you tilted your head for a different fitting filled your ears and soon became your favorite sound. When she moaned against your mouth, feeling your nails dig the skin of her waist, you went to heaven and back, your body heating up as if hell embraced you in a tight hug. 
Moving one of her hands from your face, the brunette guided yours up, squeezing her breast with a small smile while kissing you before leading it down her body once more. 
She was hot against your fingers and it was easy for you to slide them against her slit at a torturous pace. Cairo held your hand steady, deciding to move her hips against you, whining on your lips with eyes closed. Short nails digging at the nape of your neck, a bearable burning on the spot. 
Trailing your kisses down her neck, you licked on her pulse point, earning yourself a hoarse moan before she pulled back from you, standing up before she reached the ‘no return’ point.
You nearly screamed at the sudden abruption, following behind her. As your arms were to wrap around her waist, she pushed you down back on the chair with a firm hand on your chest. You stared at her, frustrated and bothered, and she didn’t seem so different from you. Swollen lips, dark eyes and heavy breathing, her shoulders fastly moving up and down. Once again, you were confused with her actions.
The awkward silence that filled the bedroom was loud, screaming inside of your head. You wanted to slap that expression on her face, the one that looked at you with a tensed jawline. Instead, you just got up and took the jacket that rested on the chair’s arm, hearing the flick of her lighter before you closed the door and walked down the stairs, a burning feeling on your chest.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months
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Beach day with König
CW: 18+ only, protected p in v sex in a semi-public place, size kink, friends to lovers, possessive but slightly emotionally unavailable König
König wants to take you to the beach one day. He has water and some munch already packed, along with a bottle of sunscreen, and he's looking illegally hot there at your door with one of those rare smiles on his face.
You like to think he's reserved his smiles just for you, but the truth is you never know if König is flirting with you without knowing it, or if he's deliberately teasing you and making your heart ache. You can't get to the bottom of who this mysterious Austrian giant truly is, but you know he likes to spend time with you. That must count for something, right…?
You have to go to the same stall to change because there's a shortage of free changing rooms; it's the most beautiful day so of course everyone else is at the beach too.
You only need to grab your swimwear and towel, but you want to add your share to the beach picnic and so you quickly shove the last of the blueberry muffins you baked yesterday into a tupperware box. You almost melt on the spot when König says you have to feed them to him because his hands will soon be covered in sunscreen. Someone has to make sure you don't burn in the sun, oder nichts?
You've done all kinds of shit together but König has never seen you naked. You try to keep it cool – it's okay: you're both adults, it's no big deal. Friends can share the same changing room, and König has always been the perfect gentleman when it comes to these things.
It's just that you wouldn't mind if his eyes wandered a little... You know you wouldn't blame him for that, if he didn't blame you for taking a peek.
A little peek never hurt anyone, but you never knew what it would cost you. You never knew you'd end up against the stall wall with him inside you.
The reserved gentleman you used to know is completely gone. König tears the condom package open with his teeth and rolls the plastic protection on with no shame whatsoever. Trojan Magnum thin, you manage to catch as the torn package ends up somewhere on the floor of the changing room. You can't believe he came here prepared…
You wonder where his usual shyness went when he too cheated on his promise not to look when you change. You wonder where the polite, considerate man went when König presents himself to you, fully naked, uncut and huge.
You're barely able to nod when he bluntly asks if you want to fuck.
The shy, awkward recruit is nowhere to be seen as König raises you against the rough, unpainted boards and spreads your thighs. The sounds of strain and exertion mainly come from him sliding his cock into you, not from him having to carry your full weight.
You always thought your first time with König – if such a thing ever came – would be something more traditional, more romantic. You always thought it'd be a Netflix & chill kind of moment. This guy has taken you out to have a chaste little meal or to see some stupid movie, for weeks and weeks now. König has the most awful taste in films, but you've endured, just like you've endured his monologues about knives and sniping. König has offered you his huge sweater when you were cold, he's has entertained your need to read poems to him, just as bravely as you have entertained his silly ramblings about yet another Böker knife. You have done a million pranks to the other recruits together. Everyone at the barracks is sick of your stupid inside jokes, everyone says you two are the worst. The 'big goblin' and the 'small goblin', they call you apparently...
Close friends don't fuck like wild animals inside a changing room, you think while he rails you as controlled and muffled as he can – you fear what would happen to you, not to talk of the poor stall, if König was allowed to fuck you to his hearts and dicks content. You never knew the socially awkward but intense sniper candidate would take you to a beach and then ask if you want to fuck. On your worst days you've swallowed tears along with the shy question of would he ever want to be more than just friends.
The only time König ever touched you was when he allowed you to try his favourite rifle. The only time you ever kissed him was after your date nights, and even then it was just a quick peck on the cheek. You were never quite sure if you were just close friends with König.
You almost lose it when he grunts into your neck how he's wanted to do this for a long time. Wanted to fuck you, or fuck a woman against a changing room wall, you don't know, but you hold on to his sweaty neck as best as you can. You have to bite his shoulder to prevent loud, long-held cries from coming out. It only makes König more unhinged, though: you sinking your teeth in him like that.
Now he's infiltrating you with the passion of a man about to die if he doesn't get some pussy. Or like a dog, finally allowed to rut a female in heat. If you two were the only people here, he would probably sound like an animal, too. You know you would.
"When we... When we get back, I'll fuck you properly. Long, and hard. Hm?"
"Y–yes," you whisper on his skin – you don't know if you've ever been this flustered. You fear everyone on the beach will know what you've been doing just from how dumb you will look after this. The bite marks on König's shoulder are enough to tell people that your "close friend" is good at more than just shooting a gun.
When you cum, you sound like a widow sobbing at a funeral; when he cums, he sounds like he's dying from a stab wound. You both sound like two people trying to muffle their sorrow instead of trying to fuck their brains out.
And he won't let you down even when he's done with you. He won't let you down, not even as you squirm and whimper in his hold.
"You're mine now, right?" He pants into your ear while covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It's far from any kind of gentlemanly behavior, that low, possessive growl. Your eyes brim with tears – you like him too much when he's spontaneous and a bit crazy like this. You could fall in love with a man like König.
"I always was," you whisper, and he finally puts you down, content with everything you just gave him. You swear you just heard a soft, pleased rumble rising from that broad chest… But some part of that stoic, reserved soldier you know from the skills training and movie nights makes an appearance when you put your swimwear on. König is perfectly in control while you, in turn, are feeling awkward and completely flushed. At least there's no cum running down your thighs as you prepare for your day at the beach...
And who knew König would be so whiny? The condom you used is full as hell, and he has nowhere to put it because there's no trash can in the stall. He grunts as you try to hold in your laughter — he overall looks like he would prefer it if condoms disappeared from the face of the earth entirely so he could feel you without the plastic barrier in between. You giggle when you watch him smuggle it into the nearest trash after wrapping it inside a paper towel.
You spend the rest of the day at the beach, looking like you're the first people who have just discovered love and the fine art of fucking. He can't take his eyes off you, and you can't take his eyes off him. You play in the water, not as friends, but as lovers. Some elderly lady comes to scold you and says there are children here at the beach. You have your legs wrapped around König underwater, and your arms around his neck above: there's nothing lewd going on. But König grows red, all the way from the neck up. That's when you know he has probably never taken a woman in a public place; sometimes you wonder if he has ever taken a woman at all. The big Austrian sniper-to-be remains a mystery as he brings you some ice cream like the gentleman he is, then licks it off from your fingers like a starved dog. He's hot and cold, and confident and shy, feral and distant all in one day.
"You're mine now... All mine."
He "fucks you properly" when you get back, making your whole apartment smell of sex and desperation. And he says it again... That you belong to him. He says it with a shattered, hungry stare, both fragile and frightening.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
could you write abt spencer & bau!reader (secret relationship) and spencer having flowers delivered to their work and the note is really sweet (clearly from a boyfriend) and the team trying to figure out who she's seeing? <3
"I never thought something as simple as a glance could make me giddy," Penelope reads, knees threatening to collapse with how hard she's swooning, "But a single look from you has me gasping for breath."
"Y/N," JJ croons, smoothing a hand over your shoulder, "You've got him hooked."
"I do not," You whine, swatting at her hand, "Guys, you really weren't supposed to see this. Can we please just pretend it never happened?"
"Are you kidding? We've gotta meet him now," Derek straightens from where he'd been leaning on your desk, "I'll intimidate him just in case he decides to try anything stupid. And Reid-" He pauses, glancing back at the noticeably uncomfortable agent behind him, "Uh, Reid'll give him the statistics of how many times I win a fight. Right, Reid?"
"Right," Spencer nods, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "100% of the time."
Derek smirks at the complimentary number, nodding smugly. No one but Hotch notices that Spencer hurriedly tucks a book away into his desk, a sticky tab on the side denoting the page that he'd copied down the poem that was on the note in your flowers. Spencer had actually come into his office to ask Hotch if he thought that it was a nice poem, he just hadn't expected his answer of 'it's beautiful' to mean that you'd be reading it while ornate petals covered half of the words. Clearly, Spencer hadn't meant anyone to read the note out loud.
"You should bring him to Rossi's," Emily muses, then he can be judged on his pasta-eating form."
"I swear to god, if he holds his knife wrong," Dave starts, but Hotch cuts him off from where he's leaning against the doorway to his office.
"Alright, everyone stop meddling in Y/L/N's love life. You're probably making it less likely for you to ever meet him."
"We'll figure it out," Penelope huffs, storming back to her office, "I'll track down the flower shop and their business records if I have to!"
Once again, Hotch is the only one that notices' Spencer's eyes widen.
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thefandomthings · 6 months
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𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Middle Brothers (Separate) x Gn!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive in both (🤭), fluff,
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I am so sorry this took so long, and I apologize is Asmo is ooc, I'm not good at writing him lol
Tags: @veethewriter @demon-master-zero
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 Part 2
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I believe Satan is a sucker for old school romance, you can't tell me otherwise.
He loves the idea of sending each other love letters and poems.
He often writes about you, by often I mean everytime he writes, it's about you.
Satan even uses an ink pen and paper, his penmanship is extraordinary.
He isn't really into romance novels, but in some of his mystery/murder-mysterys there is romance
You've read a handful of Satan's books, plus your own collection.
You've recently started reading an older Novel, it's written very poetic, the main characters have started exchanging small love notes to one another.
That gave you the most brilliant idea, you'd start writing notes to Satan, leaving them on his book marks and on the inside cover of his new novels.
Satan is very witty, it takes a lot to make him get flustered, but the first note he received from you, he blushed.
You've never been one to openly talk about how you are feeling, you express yourself in different ways, such as gift giving or quality time. You've also noticed Satan has a hard time expressing himself, instead resorts to poetry and writing love letters to you.
You are currently sitting in the HoL library, your current novel sitting on your lap. You messed with the spoon in your luke warm tea while reading the poetic lines. You smiled as the main characters declared their love for each other, a warm feeling flooding in your chest.
You are desperately waiting for Satan to come back from his meeting with Diavolo and his brothers, wanting to see his face when the little folded piece of paper slips out from his new book.
It took you quite a long time to think of this note, it's a poem. It probably sounds lame next to Satan's poetry, you've read famous poets work and they are nothing compared to The Avatar of Wraths'.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Library door opens. Satan gave a small smile, his teeth aren't showing it's just a small curve of his lips.
"Hello Kitten"
He leans down and kisses your forehead rather gently before grabbing his book and sitting next to you. You instinctively stretch your legs out into his lap, his slender fingers brushing against the skin of your ankle and shin.
Satan uses his other hand to open his book, and just as you planned the small piece of paper slowly falls into his lap against your legs. You shyly hide behind your book, pretending to read. You could feel his chest and torso rumble while he read the poem to himself.
It's hard to remember what you wrote, the adrenaline making you loose your memory and only focus on now.
You do remember how hard you thought about all the write words, and what kind of poem it would be. To make his heart flutter the way he makes yours leap and soar. To make him feel the tingling sensation that spreads into your finger tips when you feel yourself falling in love more and more.
Goosebumps erupted on your skin, his hands gliding further up your legs before gripping under your knees and bringing you into his lap.
Your nose was pressed to headband of your book, the delightful smell of the old paper pages filling your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, you could feel the tingling of the blush spreading down your neck and to your ears.
Satan could only chuckle and remove the book from your face and set it on the sofa beside him. His hands set themselves on your hips, his glowing green eyes shining like brightest star in a dark night.
He gently kissed you, his hands moving to cup your face and rub your cheek bones. The kiss was full of love and passion, slow and steady. Both of your hearts pounding in your chest, skin on fire from each others touch.
He pulled away and hugged you, his head rested against your neck and shoulder. Your chest fluttered, your heart was in your throat as Satan's lips brushed against your pulse then he spoke.
"I love you"
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I strongly think Asmo designs clothes, and you are his muse and model.
He absolutely loves when you agree to be his inspiration.
And he also loves when you let him take your measurements. He likes how your body feels in his hands.
Asmo is very observant, it doesn't seem like it cause he's utterly obsessed with himself. But he knows everything about everyone. (Gossip King)
He especially knows every detail about you, you decide if that's creepy or sweet.
He absolutely loves when you tease him when working, it gives him excitement!
"MC, My darling muse I need your beauty." Asmo falls against his bed next to you, his delicate skin pressed against his silk pillowcase. You hum setting your phone down and moving his hair away from his eyes the way he likes. He smiled looking at you with stars in his eyes.
"What are you thinking and what was your inspiration?" You asked leaning on your arm. Asmo was quiet, his eyes scanning your face and down your body.
"You are always inspiration Darling." He smiled before hoping out of his bed and opening his fabric closet. You giggled and stood next to your boyfriend admiring the hundreds of fabrics.
"Stand over here." He points to the large wood box coated in glitter and pink paint. You nodded slipping off your clothes, leaving only your undergarments.
"MC, you devious human." Asmo giggled, suddenly appearing behind you. His slim hands glided around your body adjusting the measuring tape at your hip. "Always so beautiful..".
Your skin erupted with goosebumps, your shoulders shaking with a slight shiver at his touch. He giggles, he nails running over you rub cage.
"Hold still MC, or my measurements will be wrong." He pressed gently kisses along your skin, your face was rosy staring down at his thick, pink hair.
"Asmo, the tape is loose." You teased watching him adjust the tape.
"You little Minx.." He bit the soft flesh of your hip making you yelp. He giggled loudly before walking over to his sowing machine and writing your measurements on his note pad.
You reached down for your clothes but his voice stopped you, "Keep them off Love, I still need more measurements." His smile was sweet, but devilish.
God, he loved looking at you. So comfortable in his presence, just helping him gives him joy he hasn't had since the fall. You help him in more ways then one. And he loves you more than anything, including himself. And he never lets your forget that.
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meadowofdarts · 5 days
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​​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇺​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇵​​🇪​​🇷​​🇫​​🇪​​🇨​​🇹​​ ♡
• ─ You're boyfriend whom you've dated for a long time now can't help but appreciate once again how grateful he is to have you as his partner. • ─ a/n: missed just making cute little oneshots before my first ever series (arrow, your first oneshots were angst as hell, you are so delusional-) • ─ characters: kaedehara kazuha, thoma, neuvillette, arataki itto, alhaitham, kaveh • ─ full of fluff today :D
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• ─ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
Sitting beside each other as the ray of sun that is about to set down sets down upon where you two are sitting, you both continue to silently cuddle against each other at the peak of one of Liyue's mountains.
You both would have to again travel together and depart back to the crux, but you both just wanted to be in each other's presence; with your head lying on Kazuha's chest, relaxing on his lap while he held you close, nuzzling his face to your head.
Your eyes were closed, enjoying the warmth of your lover, so much that you didn't notice his soft gaze upon your own face.
Even though you and him have been together for a long time, he secretly always has time to admire you and think about the times you were guys together.
He does this for no reason at all, just wanting to go back and be grateful for your guys' memories together.
Despite his hardships throughout his life as a wandering samurai, he could never forget the blessing of meeting you as he was playing his leaf silently.
Albeit your guys' first impression was a bit chaotic, remembering you were acting nervous and embarrassed for him caught you watching him play (and for his beautiful looks being so mesmerizing to you), you both immediately were drawn to each other.
You both slowly turned from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers. Kazuha couldn't be happier.
He's always happy when you are so interested in him reading and writing his own poems as you both laughed and smiled whilst sitting together in the railings of the crux.
And he's just as interested in your own interests, smiling as you talk happily about it and being incredibly passionate about it along with asking his own questions that shows his interest in it too.
Not to mention, your own personality always puts a smile to his face. Whether it be your chaotic and fun side or your quiet and reserved side of you, his heart would flutter at just how much you make him feel all the time.
All he ever wants is to just be with you, that's all he ever wants from you.
He blushes slightly but doesn't change his soft expression, looking back down at your relaxed expression. He gently presses a kiss on your forehead before muttering and cuddling you more.
"...I love you, [Name]."
...
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• ─ THOMA
The sounds of clattering and sizzling echoed through the quiet hallways of the Kamisato Estate.
The noises coming inside the kitchen were two people cooking delicious meals together. Well, more like, one helping the other.
Thoma knows that it has been a while since you've cooked for yourself.
You both were working under the Kamisato Clan, and you both were staff that did household chores daily. Unlike Thoma who does both, you were leaned onto cleaning more than cooking.
And when you both go to your personal shared home together, the roles remain the same. But recently, you've been asking Thoma to help him teach you how to cook food now.
Currently, you were a bit confused about the equipment, and how to properly garnish and add the proper ingredients, so he's guiding you along the process, being considerate and patient with you.
He laughs as you even curse at the steps and everything that becomes frustrating to you.
And yet despite it being incredibly challenging, you still were helping him in the kitchen, even though that Thoma can simply take over and do it by himself. He stops and smiles as he watches you hard at work.
He knows you really just want to help him with the house chores as you didn't really want him to do all of the cooking and cleaning, and you figured that learning how to cook would help you contribute in a way so Thoma doesn't have to do it all the time but rather you both can do them together.
He loves how thoughtful and willing you were to help him with it. He once reassured you that he was perfectly okay, but you still wanted to help him. Your determination and kindness put a smile on his face all the time, his heart just melts when you support him.
Even though he loves his job, he sometimes struggles through it, it can be easy and hard at times, but he knows with you by his side, he's growing to love it even more.
He felt so lucky to have you.
His thoughts were cut off when you accidentally yelped, using the mixer fast made a bit of the mess on the counter, and even splashed to yours and his apron.
"Oops, sorry." You chuckled nervously.
He smiled, kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, [Name]. It happens. Here, let me help you."
...
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• ─ NEUVILLETTE
After completing many duties and stacks of reports, Neuvillette finally had the time to spend peacefully with you in his office. Recently, you and he didn't see each other that much due to his sudden overload of work taking up most of his schedule.
He knows his responsibilities and doesn't want to leave them since he knows his role in the Court of Fontaine. But the Iudex would feel bad for leaving you lonely, it pained him, and just thought you would be sad that he hasn't been with you for a bit. He wouldn't want you to think that he was neglecting you.
But instead, you always reassured him that it was perfectly fine. You knew Neuvillette wouldn't do that, and understood what he had to do. You still showed your love and care for him.
But Neuvillette wouldn't want to think about work at the moment, all he is thinking about is you.
You were an angel, really. You emphasized and understood his responsibilities, and you didn't fight against it but rather offered instead your respect and patience with him.
Just as he thought about you, you entered his office. You two immediately shared a hug and a small kiss. Neuvillette wasn't used to this kind of affection but when you always showed him this, it always warms his heart completely.
After a bit of chatting and catching up, you got up and offered him this new tea you bought that you wanted to try out together. All he knows is that you managed to distract yourself into exploring different areas of Fontaine, he was glad to see you enjoy his nation and get new artifacts every day.
You were pouring the tea into his cup, but that short action made Neuvillette just think more deeply about you.
Not only you were an angel at heart, but you also looked like one. He never thought he would see someone just as beautiful as you, your features and all were simply perfect in his eyes, and he couldn't believe you were with him.
He sees you every day and yet can't help but stop again to take a look at you.
More importantly, he is in love with your smile just as much as he fully loves you. Just seeing you happy would make his day and he couldn't ask for anything else.
Noticing his stare, you smiled, confused. "Neuvi? Is something wrong?"
He snapped out of his thoughts before giving you a reassuring smile. "Not at all, darling. Everything is just perfect."
You both would just finally enjoy a time together, simply drinking tea and spending quality time.
...
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• ─ ARATAKI ITTO
The whole Arataki gang went to Uyuu Restaurant for just a simple dinner, treated by Itto and Shinobu. They took upon the table on the second floor, filling it up with their voices and drunk brains.
As the other members were helping themselves, Itto was more busy feeding his greatest-best-loveliest lover.
Each time he was feeding you the ramen, onigiri, and dango they served, you would make such a cute expression and hum when eating it and that is something Itto truly loves to see. Literally, he would just squeal inside and his heart would thump continuously.
He knows you have a big appetite and a love for food. The best part of this whole dinner is that he gets to spoil you with food and it'll be worth all of his mora spent.
So he offered to feed you many times which you didn't mind at all, thinking it was a way to show his love to you, which is true but mostly to see your expression that was the cutest thing he had ever seen.
Despite his chaos and roughness, he still has a big heart of gold, especially to you because you are just everything to him.
Soon later, the Arataki gang was just playing honorable Genius Invokation TCG, laughter, shouts, and chatter echoed through the whole second floor since it was the Arataki gang.
As usual, Akira, Genta, and Mamoru would be by Itto's side to cheer him on while Shinobu was at your side.
Itto was literally getting destroyed by you every round since you often win more TCG rounds than him. You did not hesitate to laugh it in front of his face and become more smug than him since he declared victory before he even started the game.
And when he was so close to winning and you once again killed his character cards, he was about to show his frustration and rage through his whining and complaining, the Arataki gang knew he would do so.
But when you laugh and smiled at your victory, Itto would blush furiously before covering it up with his loud voice.
There was no way he could complain in front of you when you looked absolutely adorable at that moment, and the fact that you were happy at your accomplishment prevented him from whining again.
Although he was never really mad in the first place, he was glad to have lost since seeing you be happy is worth it.
Squealing inside with his thumping heart, he instead congratulated you. "Nice job, [Name]! But just know that I only went easy on you since you are my lover!"
You giggled, amused. "Yeah, right."
...
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• ─ ALHAITHAM
You and your boyfriend were on the couch of his comforting and quiet home, he was doing his own paperwork while you were sleeping beside him, your head resting on his lap. He didn't mind at all, really.
You actually came to his home unannounced, claiming you were tired and exhausted after working hard in the Akademiya. But Alhaitham still had paperwork to cover so he couldn't amuse you for a bit and you decided to just sleep on his lap.
Honestly, it was a good thing Kaveh isn't home right now, otherwise he would think you would have to deal with his annoying banter if you fell asleep on him.
Alhaitham made sure to check up on you every once in a while. He didn't realize he let out a small smile at seeing your sleeping face.
Your sleeping face reminded him back in the days when you two were students in the Akademiya, he noticed you would fall asleep a lot during lectures.
He knows you would sometimes have a very bad sleeping schedule. That was when you two were students, and yet you still seem to have that as an adult.
He remembers that when you two became close, he would start scolding you for your sleeping schedule and that would result in you two bickering.
Although he doesn't really mean it, he does so because he genuinely cares about you. Despite being aloof, he loves you with all of his heart.
He looks down at you again, putting down his papers to slowly caress your head as you sleep peacefully. Feeling his touch, you even let out a smile through your sleep.
You look perfect.
Alhaitham really feels blessed to have you as his lover, he would want to be with you as always and share your guys' love for each other. You were always there for each other through the ups and downs.
No matter what, he will love you in his heart and he wants to make sure you are loved and cared for too, even if he doesn't show it that often.
Alhaitham gently placed a blanket over you before quietly resuming his paperwork and taking your hand in his free hand.
He will definitely take you out on a date once you wake up.
...
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• ─ KAVEH
The House of Daena was still as quiet as ever with dozens of Akademiya students working on different reports, studying in the tables, and scanning through the several books of the library.
But you and Kaveh would come here often since it felt like a relaxing place for both of you.
Kaveh would have dozens of clients that he would need to meet up with as an architect. But surprisingly, he doesn't seem to have any at the moment. So here you two are, sharing Kaveh's designs with you that he did in his spare time.
You had recently asked Kaveh if he could share to you his designs and he was more than happy to do so. Kaveh felt flattered that you seem to take an interest in something he loves to do.
Unlike some of his worst clients who didn't really appreciate his own designs, you were the complete opposite: praising for his hard work and the design taste of his plans.
As you were looking down at his recent designs and appreciating them through your eyes, he turned to you to appreciate you instead.
Kaveh had plenty of struggles as an architect such as debt, crude buyers, etc. But just seeing your eyes sparkle would make all of his negative emotions go away as he would forget about it temporarily.
You would literally be there for him when he rants about the people he found annoying (*cough* alhaitham *cough*), times when he felt like his mind was going to blow, and times when he just wanted to boast about his successful achievements.
And no matter what it was, you would just laugh and smile with him, always seemingly interested in what he had to say.
He felt like he could open up to you anytime and he was grateful to have someone like that.
You were the perfect lover for him.
"Hey, Kaveh? Come on, show me more of your designs!" You smiled at him, eagerly.
He smirks. "Alright, alright, here. Let me show you."
Soon later, Kaveh wants to plan out whatever building you wish and he would want you as his client so he could make it come to life. All just for you.
He can't help that he loves you.
...
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bitchimasnake-sss · 2 months
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i love reading your fics, they always give me 🦋🦋🦋 i love them so much, so, i want to make a request a angst-comfort where zoro and reader are dating but they got into a fight (*cough* zoro got jealous and starts to question reader's loyalty *cough*) but it ends happily because I don't want cry. n e way, continue writing stories, you write them so well... 😚
im so glad you like my work!! and thankyouu so much for sending in the request, let's get to itt <3
moss and towel ft. roronoa zoro!
set-up: in which, you and zoro have been dating for six months. but after one fight night and growing distances, he finds himself questioning everything you've built together.
warnings: (poor attempts at writing) angst, zoro acts like an idiot, profanities. yeah, that's about it.
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the winds were cruel tonight and even crueler were you. atleast there was some comfort in the cold gusts, some reason in the way they played against the swordsman's skin and left behind selfish goosebumps. atleast, he could attempt to understand it with nami's weather charts or whatnot.
but you. how could he attempt to understand you?
his eyebrows bunched as he stared up, fixing his gaze against the twinkling points. groaning, he put his hand over his eyes. maybe in a way, sure, it was his fault. he was never good with words or those fancy poems or haikus. he was never the one to resort to affection. but how was he supposed to fix this?
the first mate of the ship rested a fraction of his bodyweight against the wooden railing of the crow's nest. the wind tousled his unkempt hair and running a hand through his moss-green locks, he vaguely tried to remember how long it had been since nami dragged him into the bathroom and gave him a haircut again.
probably too long. he concluded with a sigh as the soft tresses caressed the mid-point of the back of his neck.
he was supposed to meet his girlfriend here. that's what had been decided. just you, him and the infinitely infinite night sky. the swordsman had even decided to talk about his feelings 'neath the dark abyss of the sky (even if he hated the mere idea of that).
but it had been 30 minutes and there were no signs of you anywhere.
life had been hectic for the both of you lately, whether it was because of the constant run-ins with the marines, zoro having to accompany luffy to side-quests or some other shit the sea sprouted every once in a while. either ways, it meant that you and him saw less and less of each-other as each day passed him by.
resigning himself to a tired sigh, zoro decided to climb downwards. you were not gonna come, that much was sure.
as his heavy feet planted against the wooden floor, he took a second to collect his thoughts. he started walking the stairs to go under the deck, to the common space where most of the crew lounged at the end of the day. descending, he thought of all possible explainations. maybe you had been caught by someone else and forced to listen to one of their anecdotes, maybe nami had asked you to help with the log pose calculations of the last island, or maybe chopper wanted you to help him grind some fresh medicine.
maybe-
he stepped inside the common place with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart and immediately saw you. you, ever so beautiful with you soft smiles and your lame jokes. you with your flowing hair and unruly habits. you, that was currently laughing along to something that shit-cook was talking about.
he must have caught your gaze cause you immediately looked away from sanji and to your boyfriend, giving him a soft smile. but he left the room without returning that gesture and you found yourself on your feet, walking after him and confused.
you trailed after him, calling his name out sweetly till you reached his room and he shut the door before you could get in.
"hey!" you laughed playfully, twisting the handle with ease and stepping inside. you closed the door behind you and tucked your arms around your chest, sporting a lively pout.
but he seemed to have to reaction to your antics, instead, deciding to carefully lay his three swords on the bed behind him as if he was courting the swords and not you.
"what's up with you?" you raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the way the man sat at the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff. when he said nothing, you pressed again, this time a bit more direct, "why are you grumbling now?"
he's been like this for the past few days and now that he refused to elaborate, you found your patience slipping off of you like a thin overcoat, leaving you behind in your ugly, impatient skin.
today had been hard, like any other day. and for some reason or the other, instead of inviting you into his arms, this man had swore to make your life even more difficult.
"zorooo," groaning, you asked again, "can you stop being so dramatic?"
his head snapped up, eyes finding yours with wicked ease. his jaw was clenched tight, face red as if he was burning up, "i am being dramatic? me?"
"yeah? you're being so fucking weird." you sighed, "why?"
"i dunno, go ask that fucking cook maybe?" he grumbled.
if the exasperation on your face wasn't obvious until now, after that comment, it was surely on full display.
"what?" you hissed, "what is up with you and all these weird accusations?"
"as i said, i dunno. ask that fuckin' waiter instead, why don't you? i'm sure he'd have some answers lined up."
"why are you dragging sanji into this?"
"why are you defending him?" he stood up, his face mirroring your exasperation tenfold. he crossed his arms similarly to yours and the muscles shifted impatiently under his shirt.
you threw you hands upwards, "im not defending him! i am aski—"
"—yes you are defending him, don't even."
you were tired.
god knew you every inch of your muscles were alight with exhaustion, your head was pounding and if he wanted to fight you, you wouldn't even have it in you to fight back. these past few days had been enough on their own. so, you sighed, taking on a resigned tone, "i am so tired, zoro. can't we do it another day?"
"yeah, right." he grumbled again, his eyebrows bunching together in a characteristic manner, "everything needs to be pushed back with you, right?"
"what is that supposed to mean?" you were sure smoke was rising from the top of your head and your pupils were comically blown out, "i was tired and wanted to take some time off, so, i had sat down. and sanji found me to make some ideal chit-chat. god forbid i be tired for once-"
"i was waiting at the crow's nest for the past 30 minutes, where were you?"
"huh—" fuck. your eyes widened as the terrible realization set in. almost on instinct, your fingers reached out to touch him so as to makeup for the terrible deed you had committed. but your boyfriend pulled himself back, dodging your careful grasp before rasping out, "don't."
"zoro, i'm sorry! really, i genuinely cannot believe i forgot—"
"so, you forgot me over that fucking cook?"
"no!" you repeated, slower, "no, of course not. i was just tired and—"
"—and you decided to go off with him instead?" he scoffed, "i thought we were dating and yet, i think we've barely had any time to just spend together. every time it's someone or the other you have to rely on, not me."
"zoro..." you started carefully but he cut off you off, "don't zoro me. it's either nami or sanji or luffy or someone or the other. i wouldn't be surprised if you're fucking blondie behind my back too."
you stared at him, shocked. the wretched feeling gnawed at your insides till you looked at him in pure, utter disgust. the corners of your eyes burned up and you spat out, "don't fucking talk to me."
and you left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.
zoro stared at the place you were standing at and then slowly dragged his eyes at the door that you had slammed shut.
fuck.
⋆⭒˚。⋆🪐⋆⭒˚。⋆
well into the night, when he finally had swallowed his pride and mentally beat himself enough, he walked out of his room.
his steps were slow, stride careful so to not panic the mostly sleeping crew. searching through the washroom and the kitchen, the supply closet and chopper's tiny, stashed-away office, he failed to find you. then, he stepped out onto the deck and in a clean sweep, found you at the port side. the wind blew ideally though your hair and you stood with your arms on the railing.
the swordsman silently walked up to you, choosing to stand beside you without saying much. and if he had hoped for you to start the conversation, he was in for a long, long night.
"hey" he finally started off.
"i think i told you to not talk to me."
your feet shifted and you balanced your bodyweight away from him and he pursed his lips. standing in silence, the sounds of waves crashing against the ship painted you both in a uncomfortable hues.
he tried again, "i- i am sorry, really."
"don't care, didn't ask."
roronoa zoro bit the inside of his cheek, savoring the taste of foul rejection in his mouth over and over. but he had never been the one to go out without a fight. hell, he was the king of hell.
"but i am sorry." he repeated and his calloused fingers inched closer to yours, a poor attempt to ghost his skimming touches over your hand. but you were quicker and you pulled your hands back to yourself and wrapped them around yourself.
he slowly withdrew his hand and his head hung low, "how long are you gonna be mad at me?"
"i don't know? probably till i want to."
"babe—"
"—don't babe me."
"i am sorry—"
"—to fuCKING HELL WITH YOUR SORRY!" your cool demeanor washed off and you bore daggers into his paper-like skin as you stared him down. your breath was laboured and you were sure your yells must have woken someone, if not the entire crew.
he stayed silent, ready to face the consequences of his actions. and although venom was a resident on your tongue, looking at his guilt-struck face, you were reduced to nothing but a dumbfounded, little girl.
whatever you had planned, whatever you had thought you'd call him, whatever accusations you had thrown you'd throw at him dissolved at the tip of your tongue. and instead, an ugly feeling stirred under your skin. the feeling sunk heavy in your chest and your stomach and your head and heart and every other crevice of you. bile crawled up your scratchy throat and the same waterworks made home on your lash line.
when you spoke, you were sure your voice sounded more like a desperate plea than a demand for apology.
"why? why did you say that? that was low."
he looked down at his feet, his fingers twiddling against the sword hilt of his wado ichimonji in an attempt to self-soothe, "i know it was wrong. i was just so angry."
"and that makes it okay for you to question my loyalty?" you sniffed, feeling the watery weight cascade down your cheeks.
"no!" he looked up, alarmed, "no! ofcourse it doesn't. i never was— i was just—" he paused, wincing, "—i was jealous of him."
"sanji?!"
he continued, agonized, "yes, the damn cook. and everyone else, i guess. you seemed to have time for everyone but me."
"zoro, why didn't you just say it out loud to me?" you whispered softly. inching closer to him, you rested your palm against his warm cheek. his growing stubble lightly tickled your skin. you hummed softly when he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, pressing an easy kiss to your fingers. "because i- i just couldn't bring myself to. i'm sorry, i should have talked to you rather than being a prick, really."
"i am sorry too. i know we haven't spent any time for the past two weeks or so. i was so busy within myself that i didn't reach out to you." your fingers played gently against the scars on his face from years of training, "these past few days have been hard—"
"—they've been hell."
you laughed despite yourself, "yeah, i guess they've been hell."
his eyes swayed against yours in a guilt-ridden dance, "forgive me?"
you paused a beat, "do you trust me?"
his answer came more easily than breathing did, "more than i trust myself."
you hummed, "sure?"
and he just nodded. as moments passed you both by, he finally quipped up, "so, am i forgiven?"
"well..." you pondered for a second, "technically, i did fuck up too. so, yeah, you're forgiven." you glared at him, "just never say that kinda shit again."
he smiled and when he spoke, he offered a kind explaination, "i didn't actually mean you were fucking the cook. i just- just kinda said it."
"eh," you waved off his comment, "i don't wanna fuck blondes, anyways. to be honest, not really my type."
"huh?!" his eyes widened in play-pretend, "so his hair colour is holding you back?"
"i mean i'm more into idiots who grow slowly on me. like moss does on a wet towel."
roronoa zoro— bounty hunter, pirate, first mate to a terrifying crew, kind of hell, demon, whatever— looked appalled. "are you comparing me to moss?"
"i am comparing how you grew on me to the lowest form of moss that even grows on the stupidest surfaces."
"don't call yourself stupid, now."
you huffed and turned around, walking towards the stairways that led to the rooms, "i am gonna stop talking to you again!"
he laughed, taking in easy strides to walk after you, "just kidding. i promise. your moss, ever and forever more."
he met your pace, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you gave him a wayward grin, "good."
he gave you one right back, "great."
"i'm tired."
"me too."
as you both disappeared back into your room, hand in hand, you made a comment about how much his hair grew and he responded with "like moss grows on a wet towel?". next morning you found yourself waking up to the swordsman's heavy snores and heavier body against you.
stupid moss-head.
a/n: i think i like how this turned out lol. hope it's okay @rkiveinmarvel and as always, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3
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