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#little big man gallery
aurosoulart · 1 year
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I feel like I’ve been posting a ton lately (because there’s a lot goin on!!!!) but FOR THOSE OF YOU WITH TWITTER: Figmin XR just published our AWE competition video!!!
❗ PLEASE like/retweet it if you want to help us with our company mission of using AR (augmented reality) to reduce material waste. ❗
we’re an indie team of 4 people competing against large companies, so we’re relying pretty much entirely on word of mouth to spread the word about what we’re doing. we’re also competing against the AI and web3 (crypto) crowd, which are unfortunately still big in the tech industry
we’re competing in multiple award categories at AWE and will be relying on public votes, so literally any and all visibility helps us immensely right now. 🙏
I’ll be posting the video to @figminxr later, so don’t stress if you’re not on twitter. I’ll be sharing more info about the competition in the post as well!
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Idk why I never did this before but if you like building in the sims but your houses all kinda end up looking exactly the same on the interior (like mine do) then I highly recommend using a random color pallette generator
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Like this is the best house I've built in awhile
You could probably stick to one color pallette for the whole house if you wanted but I'm using a different one for each room
For the bathrooms shared between 2 bedrooms i combined aspects of both color pallettes and for the master bathroom I used the same pallette as the master bedroom.
I think it even looks good for the rooms that aren't actually separated from each other (the kitchen and informal dining room kept the same pallette while the living room and hallway are different ones)
Not all the color pallettes are gonna work exactly right (like tone and shade wise) cuz you have to work with the swatches you have available but ive managed to keep them pretty close to the pallettes the generator gave me.
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piratefishmama · 23 days
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No upside down but they still found each other AU where once they get out of Hawkins and move into a little apartment together in the city, Stobin set up a 'date night' routine once a week.
Obviously not a typical date night cause Platonic with a capital P, but they alternate each week who gets to plan the date night activities meaning they both get to do something fun, interesting, exciting, and potentially ridiculous that they themselves wouldn't have thought of.
One such date night, on Robin's turn to plan, is a relatively cheap art exhibition at a local small time independent gallery, focusing on portraits of people the artist has seen around the city, quickly sketched, then painted afterwards.
Her most recent crush had suggested she attend it as her best friend was the artist and was absolutely shitting it over revealing his work to the public that'd inspired those works, certain that everyone would hate them.
They get dressed up, ready to play the part of Fancy Art Connoisseurs, Steve ready to meet and big up Robin to this cute girl Robin had gushed about endlessly as the best wingman ever
Only for them both to wind up stuck one one particular painting titled and described:
E. Munson Angel Incognito Oil on Canvas, The most beautiful man i've ever seen in my life. I was certain i'd seen an angel.
It's Steve.
Sitting in the park, feeding the birds, painted to look... ethereal. Moles dotted with gold, sunlight hitting his soft hair just so, catching the rim of his glasses.
And Robin is immediately on a mission to be the best wingwoman ever because this is NO LONGER about her crush on Chrissy dammit she MUST find this artist, present Steve to him, and "now KISS" smush them both together like barbie dolls.
Good thing Eddie is nearby.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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Roses are red... [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
[Timothée masterlist]
If you want to request something, leave it in my inbox!
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A noise in the distance was responsible for waking you up from your not-so-pleasant sleep in the hard, cold bed that you had been using for almost a year. Could it be Scrubbit? It was too late for her to be doing anything, you thought, much less in the bedroom section. With some curiosity you slipped your cold feet into the even colder shoes to turn on the lamp on your table and left the room with the intention of discovering what that was.
Hallways always made you nervous and the thought of encountering something unpleasant made you even more uneasy, but you tried to keep your mind occupied with something else as you moved forward step by step. Seeing nothing outside the rooms, you continued down the spiral stairs and that was where you finally observed the cause of the commotion: a crouching body that made you jump in surprise.
“Mr. Wonka?” you whispered when you noticed the burgundy coat and this time it was your turn to startle.
“Oh, it's just you,” he laughed, a little more relieved “What are you doing here?”
“The noise woke me up. What are you doing here?” you asked back, seeing him fully dressed and with his shoes on.
“Trying to get out. I need to get an ingredient to finish tomorrow's chocolates” he explained to you.
True, tomorrow would be the big day where you guys would do your best to present your friend's chocolates to the world. You had to admit that at first you hadn't been fascinated by the idea, but after seeing all the good things that this had brought for the entire group you were more than willing to continue supporting in whatever way you could. That was why the next day you would sneak into the gourmet galleries during the day to help operate the shop that Abacus and Noodle had managed to rent. And you could tell that Wonka could barely contain his excitement.
“How do you plan to go out at this time?” you asked, as it was obvious that your usual exit through the laundry tube wasn’t an option.
“There's a space big enough for someone to get out in that part, see?” he murmured, pointing with his cane at a gap above the front door “I just need to get a good grip on this rope and I can climb up there. I will pull it to the other side and before dawn I will climb again.”
“And what if Scrubbit sees you?”
“She won't,” Wonka whispered, completely sure of himself. There was a brief silence between you, where you just looked at him with a certain claim and he returned that look with an amused "Do you want to come with me?"
"What? No!"
"Come on! It will be fun"
“I'm in my pajamas,” you said through clenched teeth.
“Then put on different clothes,” he quickly resolved, with a smile that was too enthusiastic for your liking. Looking at your doubtful expression he added: “It will only be a few hours, don't you want to get out of here?”
Although you were a little hesitant, after thinking about it a little and with the help of the man's hopeful expression you ended up being convinced. Making as little noise as possible you went up to your room to dress properly and when you returned he was already sitting on a step, waiting for you.
“I hope you know what you're doing,” you whispered close to him, half excited and half scared to death by what you were about to do.
You had gone out before, of course, but you knew that doing it at night was even riskier for many reasons you didn't want to think about right now.
He went first, just to check that everything was safe, and then you followed him, albeit with a little less grace. When you were above the door he reminded you to pull the rope for the time to return and when you looked at the height at which you were the idea of going down became less promising than at the beginning.
“Jump and I'll catch you” he exclaimed, noticing your frightened expression and you took a moment to try to calm down by breathing deeply.
You analyzed your options and thought that in that position you would have to go down anyway, and it was preferable to do it outwards, so without thinking too much about it you made a sign to the boy and then threw yourself forward with your eyes closed. You heard him exhale in surprise and the next thing you felt were his arms holding you, perhaps too tightly, as he feared you were going to fall suddenly.
"Are you okay?" he laughed softly, quite close to your ear. Upon hearing that you opened your eyes only to meet his, as green and beautiful as a pair of emeralds.
“Yes, everything is perfect” you sighed, and then he gently placed you on the floor. Without even expecting it you had already giggled too.
“Okay, go ahead.”
Without questioning him, you began to walk behind him and when you were a couple of streets away you were able to breathe more calmly, as if the weight of your captors had been reduced on your shoulders. Due to the schedule of your visits abroad, you hadn’t had the opportunity to appreciate the beautiful lights around you and you were sure that at that moment you looked like a child fascinated by them.
“They're pretty, right?” Wonka asked, confirming your hypothesis completely. Seemingly he had been watching you look at the decorations.
“They are,” you answered timidly. “What precisely are we looking for?” you asked next, still a little distracted by the environment, but trying to get his attention away from you.
“Some young rose leaves to make an infusion for the chocolate roses. I saw a full garden near the park the other time, when we were returning to the laundry. I think they can be useful”
“Are you feeling nervous?” you murmured gently, giving him your full attention now as you crossed your arms to keep some warmth. “About tomorrow.”
“A little… well, a lot actually. But in a good way,” he smiled “The truth is that I have never felt so nervous and excited in my life. All this is like a dream come true”
“I hope it’s perfect,” you murmured and you said it with sincere faith.
You had tried so hard to achieve all this that you were not only looking to do it to pay off your debt with Scrubbit, but also to see your new friend happy. And how would you not want that? Seeing him happy was a wonderful sight.
"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing that your figure was slightly curled in on itself. Apparently he was noticing a lot more than you would like.
"Only a little"
You were going to add that you were fine with it, but suddenly he stopped you by jumping in front of you and when you were about to ask what was happening, he undid the scarf around his neck to wrap it around yours. His movements were careful and the closeness forced you to hold your breath, only for your nostrils to then be flooded with the boy's aroma combined with the cheap detergent with which he had surely washed the garment.
"Better now?" the man smiled and since you didn't have time to assimilate the situation you just nodded, without stopping looking at him just because he kept looking at you.
You thought maybe this was what it would feel like to hug the boy, even though you had never done it, and then you hid your nose in the soft fabric. It had purple and green patterns on a gray background, quite pretty actually.
“The… the park. It’s there,” you stammered, pointing to a point behind your friend.
When he turned around he could see the rose bushes in the distance and let out an exclamation of joy, while his warm hand sought your wrist to guide you in their direction, causing a shiver to run through your entire body.
When you walked through the place and reached the plants he knelt next to the bushes, starting to rant about how functional these flowers would be, whether it was their leaves, the color, the shape... he listed more and more qualities, but you just could focus on the feeling on your neck and the warm ghost of his fingers on your skin.
And in that moment it was as if you had suddenly noticed something about him that you hadn't noticed at first; that there was some tenderness in his features that made you feel nervous or maybe it was his thin, skillful hands walking through the branches or even, daring to sound exaggerated, you would say that you suddenly noticed how handsome he really was. How did you notice it until now?
He said something and then you asked him to repeat it, since you had been too busy watching him to pay attention to his words.
“I asked you if you think any would be useful,” he said again. You took a look at the bush in front of you and pointed towards the first specimen you found, hoping that the talk would take away the thoughts that had invaded your mind.
To your surprise it turned out that the rose you had pointed out was quite pretty and, according to the requirements you remembered, it was perfect for the man's purposes. After congratulating your choice, he took out some scissors from his hat and carefully cut out the flower, to keep it in the same piece of fabric as the others that he had already selected.
“These roses will make the best chocolates, I can already imagine it,” he said with some pride, looking at the pile of plants you had. You hadn't even looked when he cut so many.
"They are beautiful"
"Yes, they are. And this one is for you."
If you had managed to get rid, even for a moment, of romantic thoughts towards him, right now he wasn't being very cooperative. Not when he was offering you the prettiest rose with such a sweet smile.
Why was he doing that? You did not know. Maybe he was just being kind and grateful, like he was most of the time.
“Huh, thank you, Mr. Wonka…”
“Be careful, he still has some thorns,” he warned you, “And stop calling me Mr. Wonka. “We are friends and my friends call me Willy.”
A small smile invaded your face and it was lucky that you were able to hide the blush on your cheeks with the excuse of inhaling the scent of the rose. It was exquisite, by the way.
“Then thank you, Willy,” you corrected yourself, to which he showed a satisfied expression.
And then a pleasant tickling invaded your stomach because, whether they were real flowers or chocolate flowers, it would always be a pleasure to receive such a cute detail from such a cute boy.
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luveline · 5 months
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Hey jade!! i love your writing so much<3
Also what do you think of prison!spencer × Stripper!reader?👀
im not sure if this is what you meant but I hope you like it ♡ fem, 1.2k
"Too much," you murmur to yourself, tilting your head one way and then the other. The bags under your eyes have been dark lately from a severe lack of sleep, but all this makeup won't help make tips. "Way too much." 
You lean back to ask one of the girls for a wet wipe but the dressing room is empty. Swearing to yourself, you duck down for your bag. You have tissues, and they'll have to do it. 
Things have been hard since Spencer's… event. You don't sleep well without him, worse wondering what it is he's going through right now. His friends don't really know that you're seeing one another, and so being kept in the loop has felt akin to begging for scraps. You miss Agent Hotchner in times like this. He always had a soft spot for you. 
You hum a song under your breath as you rub the cakey makeup under your eyes. Washing your face would be nice. Going home would be better. You've been trying to make some extra money in case Spencer never comes home; you won't have his security to fall back on if things fall apart here. 
You don't want his security. You just want him to come home. Sighing, you pick up your phone and open the gallery app. It's a second hand thing you got at a pawn shop but it has enough storage to keep as many blurry photos of your boyfriend as you'd like. Pictures of him everywhere and doing everything, his big smile like a beacon. 
You stop scrolling when you find the one you want. It's favourited with a red heart at the bottom of the screen. Spencer took it, you remember —you were too busy kissing his cheek to navigate the settings. He looks happy. You could never understand how happy he is to be with you, how through everything, a long time of knowing one another and a hundred thousand acts of a kindness you didn't deserve, he's stayed by your side. He doesn't care that you're a dancer. He's proud of your choices. He loves you for you, even if he does get a little jealous every now and then. 
You lay your phone down on the dressing table, cheek flat beside it. "Time to come home, Dr. Reid," you whisper. 
Your phone pings and you ignore it. It pings again and you turn off your notifications. It's probably Spencer's nice friend Penelope, or one of the girls wanting to borrow something. 
You shed your robe to look yourself over in the mirror. The lingerie you're in tonight's not to your taste but a fan favourite, the bra and underwear both plum in colour with lace and black garters to be clipped. You turn to one side and narrow your gaze at a ladder running up your leg. 
You save a bottle of clear nail polish in your bag for this occasion. 
You're sitting on the floor with your leg out in front of you when someone knocks on the door. The girls don't knock. 
If it's a patron you have a taser, and besides, they don't usually knock either. A bouncer, then. 
"Come in, please!" you call lightly. 
You don't bother looking up, a creature of habit. It'll be the same thing as usual, insert man wants to buy insert dance from you for insert amount of time. Are you interested? 
You hum as you paint the rip in your garter. The nail polish will stop it from ripping any further, but you're going to need new ones. 
"You're prettier than when I left. How did you do that?" 
You tip the bottle over as you flinch, you don't care, you look up at the compliment and the familiar voice, and find Spencer standing in the doorway. 
You've pictured this moment multiple times a day since the day he was arrested, hundreds of reactions. In pretty much all of them you throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave again, but all those hours of missing him coalesce on top of you. You want desperately to touch him and you end up crying into your hands instead. Tears quicker than you knew they could arrive, hot and thick as your sob. 
"Hey," Spencer says, kneeling down in front of you. He takes your wrists into his hands. "Hey… don't cry." 
You can't help it. 
He wraps his arms around you and lets you sob. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," he murmurs. 
"I missed you," you say, the words dragged from you like agony on a hook. 
"I missed you too." He rubs your back. If he cares that you're in your underwear he doesn't have much to say about it. He eventually started making jokes about all of this stuff when he realised you wouldn't be offended, but he's never cruel about anything. He's far from it now, pulling your shoulder into his chest as he pats your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm really sorry. It got out of control. But, on the bright side…" 
You sniffle and pull your gaze up to his face. When you see the hollows of his cheeks you almost start crying again. "What?" you ask. 
"Well, now I'm cool enough to be your boyfriend." 
You push him backwards and crawl into his lap, knees on either side of him, weight against his abdomen. Your arms weave behind his head and you push your cheek into his likely too hard to be painless. He just sighs in relief. 
"Do you have something in your pocket?" you whisper, your voice stuffy. "Or was prison very hard?" 
He laughs and digs in between you to pull the little box that had been digging into you out of his pocket. "It's for you." 
"Don't want it." 
"I don't care if you want it. I missed our anniversary." 
"I missed you," you say, clinging to him for dear life.
You can't stop hugging him long enough to look. 
Eventually, he peels you off of the floor and you get dressed to go home with him. It takes a long time —you keep stopping to hug him between items of clothing, checking that he's real, that's he's him, even if he looks different now. He has to take the reins or you'll never make it home, pulling your coat over your shoulders and zipping it closed. 
When he's done, he takes your face into both hands. "You've been safe while I was gone? No trouble?" he asks. 
"Nobody messes with me. My boyfriend's in the FBI." 
"Well, we're taking a vacation." He blows out a big breath. "Jesus, I'm sorry, but I really need to kiss you right now." 
"Even though I look junky?" 
"You look perfect." He kisses you before he's finished, his praise smothered by your lips. He kisses you so hard you can't breathe by the end of it. "I'm sorry," he says, pressing a softer one under your eye. "Prison was actually pretty hard." You lean in, lingering nose to nose with him. "I couldn't sleep without you near me." 
"You're only saying that 'cos you saw me in my underwear." 
"Yeah, that's exactly why." He practically giggles. "No, I just love you."
You couldn't sleep without him either. You get home and sleep for days, tangled with each other in bedraggled sheets. 
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starzshopoflove · 7 months
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Worlds biggest snoop
Soap is nosy as fuck and drags poor Gaz into his nonsense, Ghost just misses you.
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Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader, Soap is nosy, drabble! (WC:936)
Okay, it was bound to happen eventually. Simons on deployment and his poor little civilian girlfriend is left all alone in her little bookshop while he's away on base. Of course he told you before he left and, you both made sure to spend plenty of time together on dates (and in bed)
You send him off with plenty of hugs and kisses reminding him to call whenever he has time and not to forget to take care of himself. Simon would probably keep a few photos of you in his gallery in a locked album that he looks at every night before sleeping once he’s called you.
This man is so paranoid, he even changes his wallpaper. It was a photo of you holding a pie you both made together ( he stood on the side reading the instructions while you did all the work bc you were to scared he would mess with the dough, this man has lived off of mre’s and meat his ass can NOT bake) with a little ghost dough shape baked on the top. Now its just a picture of a pile of books with your glasses on the top of the stack. Easy enough to pass off as a nice photo and still something to remind him of you.
He makes sure he has no trace of you on him once he's on base. Save for the one picture he has of you both holding a big bouquet of flowers side by side, he's staring at you stare at the camera like a love sick puppy, while you're smiling so wide your eyes are shut. That's the only thing he will keep on him, if he dies on the field he wants the last thing he sees to be you. Other than that he risks nothing.
Plain clothes that don't have your smell, none of the fancy lotions you’ve forced him to use, none of the little trinkets you slip in his pocket, none of the little letters you've slipped in his bag (He saved those to read when he came back).
Nothing.
But he was bound to fuck up eventually no?
Soap was the first to get nosy. His LT was never this calm or relaxed on deployment. He rushed a little more to get to his office each night. What was even weirder is he would lock the door this time, he never locked the door.
So of course he started taking matters into his own hands. Standing behind Ghost when he was sitting down on his phone, once he even saw him scroll past the locked album. He didn't open it of course. He never opened that unless he was alone, but he scrolled past it and Soap could see the album title.
Your Initial with a heart next to it.
This is when all the bells actually went off in his head. At first he thought Ghost finally went to therapy (LMAO NO) or maybe picked up a hobby (DOUBLE NO), but heart emojis? What on Gods green earth had moved thee Ghost to using a heart emoji
Soap was sticking like glue to Simon, reluctantly he tolerated this. Except of course when 9pm rolled around and he was kicking him out of the office. 
“Come on Lt, what you gettin 'rid ‘f me for? Not like yer gonna wank in the office yeah?” 
“Get out” 
“Aw come on can't spare ya favorite sargent a couple hours to entertain?”
Soap was whining at this point just being an annoying little shit to try and break him.
“Out”
Ghost just dragged him out by the collar like a misbehaved kitten.
Making a show of it Johnny walked down the halls wailing about how Ghost must hate him and that their friendship means nothing, while Simons just watched him tumble around dramatically wrapping his arms around Gaz. 
Once he hears the click of Ghost's office door locking he instantly straightens up, face locked on like he's on a mission and arm wrapped around Gaz like iron. 
Gaz the poor boy, is verily confused watching this interaction, more confused as to why Soap is dragging him to their Lt’s door.
"C’mon”
Soap hisses pressing his ear on the door motioning Kyle to do the same. 
“Fuck is you doing?”
Gaz is looking as Soap like a child who's about to get a shot, lips pursed tightly, eyes narrowed up. Course Johnny just pulls him to press up too.
Price probably just walks past them mumbling some nonsense about kids these days ignoring it, the less he knows the better
The 2 stand there in silence for a good moment until they hear the classic dialing of a number and the shifting of what sounds like Ghost taking off his mask. 
Then, the sound of a woman's voice?
“Well you look awfully tired”
Oh my god Lt’s calling a woman
Your voice is chirpy and bright probably since you’ve got the night shift and had enough sleep to run the shop for the night. You little chitters of how your day went and questions of concern filled the room soothing Simon's nerves of whatever he was worrying about that day. 
Soap and Gaz are jaw slacked behind the door staring at each other listening to this. Lt’s bird chirping through the little phone speaker and him actually replying in full sentences in a soft warm tone they didn't know existed 
The 2 scatter before the call ends giggling to each other, well Soap giggling Gaz trying to process how Lt got a girl before him
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cheollipop · 10 months
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heists and celebrations
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navi | taglist
pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader x choi san
w.c.: 3.9k
tags: smut, they're all criminals/partners in crime, criminal behaviour (theft), mentioned boxer!san and his manager!wooyoung, some reckless driving
with the stolen necklace secured around your neck, wooyoung slumped back in his seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel while his eyes remained focused on the overhead mirror, watching his two partners celebrate another successful heist in the back of his van.
warnings: semi-public sex, van sex, really fucking filthy sex (genuinely disgusting), dom!woosan, sub!reader, some jealousy, reader is wearing red lipstick and it gets everywhere, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, cum sharing, spit kink, praise, degradation (reader is called a slut once), a cute little breeding kink, a sprinkle of breath play (barely any), some begging, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; youngie; baby, darling, sweetheart, love, good girl, pretty girl), wooyoung watches them fuck the whole time, and teases san because he's cute when riled up
A/N: I've had this fic idea in my notes since the very first woosan teaser dropped so I'm really glad I was finally able to write it out! ( ´∀ `) though challenging fsr, I really enjoyed writing the smut for this one. happy reading! ^^
nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞
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Walking past the metal detectors, you raised your phone to peek at your reflection, making sure the glitter on your eyelids and the red painting your lips were intact, smacking them together once before walking further into exhibit.
Your footsteps slowed as you passed the broad, arched doorway and entered a wider gallery with accessories from numerous eras lining the walls, people crowding in front of the displays. Your eyes trailed over the diamonds and gold encased within the glass boxes, the overhead lights reflecting the luxury accessories. In any other heist, your eyes would remain forward, playing the role of a mere passerby minding their own business. But today, you were just another visitor in this exhibit, ogling at the jewellery on display. A quick, discrete scan of the room was enough to find you your target – standing near the wall to your left, the blonde head of hair displacing him in the monochrome room.
Just as you were about to move towards the tall figure, your gaze unintentionally flitted to the right, colliding with feline eyes staring right back at you from the other side of the room – the man standing idly in a uniform too big for him, bruises from last night’s match tainting his angular features. You twisted your body in the other direction, heeled boots clacking over the polished tile with confident strides, your eyes meeting the blonde man’s and dragging his attention off the rowdy school kids in the far corner. You waited until his gaze fell on you to dig the tip of your tongue into the corner of your mouth, blinking innocently as you approached him, your eyes moving down to read the ID card hanging off his neck.
Security Guard Song Mingi
Stepping into his personal space, your hand flew to his shoulder and you drew your eyebrows together in feigned distress. “Oh, thank God! Sir, could you please help me?”
Mingi’s head lowered to eye the hand resting delicately over his chest, looking back up to meet your anxious eyes. “S-sure, yes, of course," he stuttered when your fingers tightened around his lapel. "What can I help you with?"
You twisted your body and walked backwards until you hit the wall behind him, slumping against it and exhaling deeply. “My friend,” you paused, looking up at him now that he’d turned his back to the rest of the room. You blinked faux tears into your eyes, quivering your bottom lip ever so slightly while you spoke, “I’ve been looking for her for hours. Could you please help me find her, Sir?”
You watched Mingi’s ears shift hues, his head turning to the side as he coughed awkwardly. The bright red blurred in your peripheral as you stared ahead, nodding discretely at the idle figure across the room and watching it slip past the restricted ribbon closing off a section of the exhibit, looking back at Mingi when broad shoulders disappeared behind the corner.
“She said she’d meet me at the Tiffany and Co. section, but she never showed up. She won’t even answer her phone,” you leaned forward to wrap your fingers around his forearm, looking up at him with wide eyes, glassy with simulated concern. “I’m really worried about her, Sir. Please help me?”
--
Nimble fingers worked over the display case’s lock, occasionally looking back at the doorless entrance to confirm he was still in the clear. Moving his attention back to the small keyhole, he worked the pick and wrench inside with steady hands, the flashlight held between his lips reflecting off the glass. A whispered curse vibrated around the flashlight when his jacket sleeve slid down his arm, covering the hand holding the pick – along with the bloody scrapes and bruises colouring his knuckles – but he was too far in to back out now, working the lock with the fabric draped over it. After a few more tries, a muted click sounded and the glass door swung open.
Cat-like eyes raised off the picked lock to examine the diamond necklace hanging off the jewellery stand, studying the angle at which the light bounced off the large stones. Reaching forward, he carefully lifted the necklace with his index and thumb around the clasp, securing it in the felt bag he’d pulled out of his blazer before tucking it back inside. Digging his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out an identical replica – cheap moissanite bedazzling the silver – and intricately placed it inside the case, adjusting it over the stand before closing the glass door and listening for the soft click of its automatic lock.
Pulling the flashlight out of his mouth, he switched it off and patted his breast pocket once before walking back towards the entryway. A quick peek into the short hallway outside to ensure it was empty followed by quick steps past the red ribbon sealing off the section he had been in, San squinted at the bright overhead lights as he made it back into the main gallery, rooting himself in his previous position just in time for five suited men to make their way into the big room. Their conversation continued as they walked past San, nodding in acknowledgement before making their way over the restriction ribbon and through the short hallway, grease from the sandwiches they’d had for lunch coating their moving lips.
The familiar sonance of your laugh drew his attention to the wide entrance, his eyes finding yours over the blonde security guard’s shoulder before trailing down to study the arm draped over your waist. The plan was for you to guide him away from this gallery and into another, but there you were, barely an inch separating you and the tall man. San’s eyebrow twitched at the proximity, but more so at the dumb smile splitting his face in half while his other arm points towards where your ‘friend’ was supposedly waiting for you. Meeting your gaze once again, he gave you a firm nod before solemnly staring ahead.
With a flirty smile and a few bats of your eyelashes, you slipped a fake number into Mingi’s phone and walked away, the guard barely noticing you walking in the opposite direction of which he pointed you in.
San’s eyes flitted to the antique clock hung up on the wall across from him, turning around just in time to watch a man with a sharp nose and jet-black hair approach him. Quickly glancing at his ID card, San bowed slightly and began walking away as his ‘shift’ came to an end.
“Wait,” the deep baritone halted San’s movements, twisting his torso to look back at the guard. “Let me see your ID,” he reached a hand out, palm up and expecting.
San blinked once, twice, before pulling the lanyard off his neck and handing it to the man in front of him, turning his body to face him fully. The grim man examined the card, flipping it over a few times before sliding it back into San’s hand.
“Good work today, Yunho,” he gave him a tight smile which San reciprocated with a small bow before he moved away to stand where San had been all evening.
Stepping out of the stuffy exhibit and into the chilly night, San inhaled deeply, walking down the small steps and reaching into his blazer for the felt bag, swiftly stuffing it into his slacks before shrugging off the loose uniform and slinging it over his shoulder. He strutted down the block, his lips pursed as he whistled mindlessly, his soiled tank top sticking to his body with the night breeze blowing over his skin.
A few minutes of walking led him to a familiar convenience store, the lights flickering weakly and the table set out the front swaying with the light wind. Casually peeking over his shoulder, he made sure no one was following him before turning a corner, your familiar figure – resting against the graffitied wall – waiting for him in the damp alleyway. You pushed yourself off the grimy concrete, a smile stretching your lips when your eyes zeroed in on the felt bag pinched between two of his fingers.
Grabbing onto the thin material of his tank top, you pushed San backwards until his body crashed into the wall, the red on your lips transferring to his when you pressed your mouths together, the metallic taste of blood seeping into your taste buds as you licked over the corner of his lip. San’s fingers wrapped around your nape, inhaling deeply before parting his lips and running his tongue over your bottom teeth. Cold fingers tickled the sides of your neck, a heavy weight falling over your collarbones while San’s tongue pressed against yours. One of your hands untangled from the material of his top, running over your decolletage until your fingers made contact with the cool silver and curved over the slope of the large diamonds. The felt bag – now empty and worthless – fell into the puddle by your feet, the malodor of sewage masked by the hunger in San’s eyes, his hands wandering over your body while he devoured you.
A loud honk from the van parked down the alley cut your fit of passion short. You giggled at San’s irritated griping as you made your way to the vehicle, the metal surface littered with dents of various sizes and the colourful lettering chipping off the white paint. You walked past San as he pulled at the back handles, skipping your way to the front and watching the door fly open, sliding into the passenger seat as Wooyoung retreated back into his.
“Welcome back,” he flicked the tip of your nose, his eyes fixed on the glimmering stones hanging off your neck. “I’m guessing we can skip the debrief?” A lopsided smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
Looping two fingers around the silver band, he tugged you towards him, the clasp digging into the back of your neck as some of the lipstick still painting your lips smeared over Wooyoung’s, his tongue gliding over yours to flatten over the roof of your mouth.
The curtain behind you slid open, San’s deep grumble obscured by your heavy breathing. “Ya! I worked my ass off to get that. If you wanna pull that hard, just buy her a leash,” he propped his forearm on the back of the seat, resting his chin over it to study the red smudged over Wooyoung’s lips.
“Worked our asses off,” you complained.
“No, I worked my ass off while you were busy flirting with that prick.”
You could see Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirk, his questioning gaze lasting only a second before he parted from you with a final kiss, letting go of the necklace and slumping back in his seat to turn the engine on. “Leave her alone, Sannie. If you wanted to be praised for doing your job right, you should’ve just said so,” he pressed his foot down on the pedal, reversing out of the alleyway before digging his palm into the steering wheel and turning it twice to move onto the empty road.
The pout on your lips faded when your eyes met San’s, angling his chin to point at Wooyoung, the silent communication bringing a shared smile to your lips.
“Youngie,” you tugged on his sleeve, leaning over the console to get closer to him.
“Yeah, baby?” his eyes remained trained on the road, a few cars driving alongside him on the dark highway.
San chuckled breathily, “I think our pretty girl wants to thank you for the ride. We couldn’t have pulled this off without you. Right, sweetheart?”
You nodded eagerly, gliding your palm up his thigh and inwards to tease at his clothed crotch. He glanced over at you, his teeth peeking through his parting lips, the corners curled upwards.
“Oh really? Is there anything else you want to thank me for?”
“Thank you for getting rid of that Yunho guy, we would’ve been in trouble if he had been there,” your fingers trailed over the zipper, circling his button before popping it open.
“Mm, that’s right. Come on now, sweet girl, thank me properly,” Wooyoung slumped further down in his seat, widening his legs and dropping one hand off the steering wheel to give you space.
Just as you freed his half-hard length from the confines of his boxers, San’s hand cupped the back of your head and pushed you down. Your torso bent over the console, the gear stick digging into your waist by the time San let go of you.
You pulled away slightly, fingers wrapped around his base and tongue rolled out to place kitten licks over his cockhead. Wooyoung peeked down at you to follow the line of drool dripping off your tongue to lubricate his cock, snapping his eyes back up to the road with a guttural groan squeezed your fist around him. You pressed your lips to his tip, placing your hands over his upper thighs and moving back to admire the painted outline of your lips – the last of your lipstick colouring it red.
When you deemed him hard enough, your lips closed around his leaking head, giving him a gentle suck to feel his thighs contract before taking him further into your mouth. You nuzzled your nose into the hair around his base and relaxed your throat, flattening your tongue over the underside of his cock and reveling in the tight grunts it elicited from above.
A loud horn blared from the lane beside yours, Wooyoung’s vision unblurring and his palm hurriedly gliding over the steering wheel to adjust the swerving van. San snickered behind him, partly at your muffled coughs around the younger man’s cock as the rough steering jerked your body around. You pull away to breathe once the vehicle settled, inhaling deeply and clearing your throat, the bitter taste of precum on your tongue.
“I don’t think she’s thanking you hard enough, Youngie,” San tsked behind you, palming over his clothed cock as he took in your red eyes and sniffling nose.
“Mm, I think you’re right,” the arm resting idly over the console raised, fingers tangling in the hair at your nape and pushing your head downwards until the warmth of your mouth engulfed him once again, soft groans escaping through gritted teeth as your throat constricted around his tip. With the hand in your hair, he began moving you over his cock, bobbing your head and noting the weight of the necklace adoring your neck falling over his thigh every time his tip brushed against your uvula. “Fuuuuck, that’s my good girl.”
The outline of his vein slid over your tongue, pulsing as you took him down your throat. You could hear the slick movement of San’s hand over his cock, his eyes moving between your stretched lips and Wooyoung’s parted ones, soft, breathy moans muffled under the wind rushing through the open window. You felt him twitch inside your mouth, the familiar clench of his abdomen egging you on, taking him all the way and hollowing your cheeks. The van veered to the left again, Wooyoung’s eyes barely open as pleasure rushed through his veins with every squeeze around his cockhead. You swallowed around him once, twice, before gagging around the hot ribbons of white shooting down your throat. The limp fingers in your hair regained their strength, pushing your head down while he rolled his hips into your mouth, your jaw going slack as he used you to milk out the last of his cum.
San’s eyes fluttered shut to take in the melodies playing through Wooyoung’s parted lips – rough grunts paired with airy moans while he fucked the last of his load into your mouth, pulling you off him to wipe the tip of his cock over your face, a line of cum smeared over your cheek. A few seconds of muted shuffling passed before saltiness consumed San’s tastebuds, your mouth roughly pressing against his, tongue breaching his lips to share some of Wooyoung’s release. His Adam’s apple bobbed, eagerly swallowing down the tangy liquid before diving in for more, pushing you further into him with a hand to the back of your head. A throaty moan vibrated against your lips, San’s cock lurching in his limp fist as he sucked the last of Wooyoung’s load off your tongue. Pulling away, you grabbed San’s jaw firmly and moved your head closer to spit into his open mouth, a mixture of your spit and his marbled with milky white reflecting the passing streetlights before disappearing down his throat.
“Wooyoung, fuck,” he spoke, words slurred from the tight grip you have on his jaw, rolling his wrist around his leaking cockhead. “Pull over. I need her right fucking now.”
--
The van jumped over a speedbump, the driver too distracted to slow down, eyes trained on the overhead mirror instead of the road as two bodies moved steadily in the reflection. Two fingers twisted the volume knob to the left, silencing the music to revel in the harmony of moans surging from the back of the van.
The worn-down mattress was anything but comfortable, your dripping pussy adding to the stains decorating it. Looking over to the side, your eyes settled on the discarded boxing gloves from the night before, splotches of maroon flaking off the faux leather. One of San’s hands cupped the back of your head, pushing your face down while he pounded into you from the back, his other pulling at the necklace around your neck, the diamonds pressing into your skin to form thin crescents.
Wooyoung scoffed at the sight – red spreading from the soiled collar of San’s tank top and up to his neck, beads of sweat rolling down his skin and sinking into the cheap cotton. “What happened to all your hard work, hm?” his eyes rolled down to San’s white knuckles, wrapped tightly around the accessory restricting your airflow.
“Shut up,” he spat, his hips slamming into the backs of your thighs as he pumped his cock between your fluttering walls. The hand covering the back of your head slid down your spine to squeeze at your waist, his blunt nails stabbing into your heated flesh while husky grunts vibrated through his throat.
Wooyoung’s eyes shifted to your face, concealed as you looked over to the side, your lips parted with drool pooling under your head. “Aw, I think Sannie got a little jealous earlier. Right, sweetheart?”
The words reduced to mere sounds in your head, the syllables meshing as San’s cockhead pistoned into your g-spot, barely registering the rough fingers tangling into the hair at your crown before sharp pain seared through your scalp, your chest lifting off the tattered mattress and neck craning as San angled your face upwards. You sucked in deep breaths now that the silver band wasn't digging into your neck, choking around broken cries of pleasure. Hooded eyes studied your face in the small mirror – pupils dilated, tears and glitter eyeshow staining your heated cheeks with saliva trickling down your chin, body jerking forward every time San’s hips slammed into yours, his cock stretching you open around his girth.
“'Don’t think she can answer,” San rasped, his eyes dropping to watch the flesh of your ass ripple every time he drove into your clenching cunt. “Ah- So fucking tight for me.”
Wooyoung’s fingers squeezed around the steering wheel, “is he fucking you good, baby?” The corners of his lips twitched with a concealed smirk, “or is my pretty slut still thinking about that man’s cock?”
Your brain short-circuited, shots of burning pleasure soaring through your veins and forcing your eyes shut. “it’s good, s-so good,” your speech was barely coherent, moans spilling out of you as San continued to fuck you through Wooyoung’s interrogation.
“What about my second question?” San’s eyes flew towards the mirror to meet Wooyoung’s, clenching his jaw so tight it bordered on painful, the younger man smiling to himself over how easy it was to rile San up.
San rammed his cock inside you, holding it deep within your cunt while he bent at the waist to whisper in your ear, the deep baritone of his voice nearly masked under your pathetic moaning, “be a good girl and answer Youngie’s question, or have I already fucked you dumb?"
“I-I’m not! ‘Love Sannie’s cock so much- hnngh!” your upper body flopped onto the mattress, your scalp burning under the palm San had flattened over your head, fingers rubbing soothing lines over your roots while he ground his cock into your heat.
“That’s right,” he pressed his lips to your slick shoulder and gave you a harsh thrust, rolling his hips once, twice before pulling off you. His hands slid down your body to grab at your hips, dragging you back over his length with a grip tight enough to promise bruises. One of his knees nudged against your inner thigh to spread your legs even further, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he began hammering his cock into you. “Love my cock so much you’ll let me breed this tight pussy, won’t you, darling?
“Nghh- fuck! Sannie, please-”
“Give it to me, love, ‘wanna feel you cream all over my cock,” the tautness of his voice, strained as he chased his orgasm with sloppy thrusts, was enough to send you over the edge.
Your vision went black as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, thighs shaking while you your orgasm rushed through you. A succession of curses and San’s name rolled off your tongue, followed by desperate pleas for him to come as he frantically humped your overstimulated cunt. Your body jolted as pain mixed with pleasure, your vision blurring with tears while San used you like a cocksleeve, leaning over you to whisper in your ear, whimpered praise falling off his tongue – a melody of ‘just a little more’ and ‘you can take it’ sending shivers down your spine.
You felt him split you open thrice before a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly, his cock twitching between your fluttering walls as he unloaded his seed inside you. His arms wrapped around your middle, holding your body flush against his shuddering chest while he grinded into your used cunt, draining himself of every last drop. Delicate hands smoothed over your sides at the pained whimper you released into the dungy mattress, San’s softening cock slipping out of you and making way for a stream of his cum to trickle out of your gaping hole. He took a few seconds to moon over the mess he'd created before pursing his lips and adding to it, dropping a wad of spit onto your drenched pussy, your hips jolting when a calloused thumb ran through the fluids painting your folds.
You barely noticed the van making a sharp turn, the engine going silent half a minute later and drawing your attention to the front, a rest stop sign shining through the windshield. Wooyoung’s head poked through the gap between the seats, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sweaty bodies sprawled out in their own mess. He lifted his arm to hurl a roll of cash at San, his eyes remaining fixed on your twitching form as he imagined the steady stream of cum making its way down your thighs.
“Sannie, go grab some food and water. I think I need to be thanked a little more.”
reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
Ghost & König x Plus-Size Reader Headcanons
Warnings: Implied/meantioned smut, some 18+ content (vague), bodily insecurities mentioned, fluff, a whole lot of love, two men being so down bad for you that it's no laughing matter, implied physical assault (not on Reader), Fem Reader, Jealous Ghost is implied, Jealous Konig (for different reasons)
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Ghost:
He is absolutely, indisputebly, so atrociously down bad for you.
He seriously can never get enough of you.
If you were EVER insecure about any part of you, and he found out about it, he'd just give you a look of pure confusion.
What do you mean your thighs make you sad sometimes??
They don't make him sad.
On the contrary, they bring him nothing but joy!
Especially when they're wrapped around his head.
Seriously though, he loves you regardless of your size, shape, weight, etc.
Loves cuddling you because you're always so warm.
Calls you his "perfect pocket heater." Usually rasping it in your ear when he's pressed up behind you in bed during the winter months.
Whenever he's called back on duty, he says he wishes he could just pack you into his bag and take you with him to keep him company (and warm).
His other nickname for you is "Muffin" (you'll see why later).
Loves squeezing you.
And cuddling you.
Anywhere and everywhere.
Wherever there is skin to grab and hold, by god, he'll hold it.
He doesn't poke or squeeze you in ways that can be construed as teasing, though, especially if you're self-conscious about yourself.
And if by some sheer act of ignorance or cruelty somebody else makes you feel bad about your weight.
💀
Next time you see them, they're an assault statistic on the evening news, one who is in "critical condition", at that.
Ghost loves having you on top of him btw.
Regardless of the intent, whether sexual or not, he loves feeling your weight on him.
It grounds him.
Reminds him that you're here, that you're real. That Ghost is capable of love and is allowed to be happy.
Also, quick note, Ghost ADORES seeing you in stockings.
Loves how the elastic squeezes your thighs and makes them spill over the fabric.
He always calls them his "little muffins".
He thinks it makes you look even more beautiful (if that's possible).
He's had to reprimand some of his colleagues for staring at you.
Though, he can't blame them: they all know you're gorgeous.
Feels like it would be a crime not to watch you.
Like visiting every other painting in a gallery except the Mona Lisa.
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König:
Man is huge and built like a bear, but the second you sit on his lap, his spirit is GONE.
He loves when you lay in his arms like The Pietà; makes him feel strong. Trusted.
His favourite thing about you is your waist.
He just can't stop looking at it.
He loves the shape.
Is fascinated by it, watching it change shape slightly when you sit down.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"How...How does it do that (perform basic biology)?"
Truly, the female body is an enigma to König.
Though yours is not.
Like Ghost, he will grab onto any skin, fold and crevice he can get his hands onto (or into).
Worries if he's too big for you sometimes (in more ways than one) :-(
He lives for the weight of you on his thighs when you ride him.
Makes him feel secure, like he's paper and you're the paperweight.
And it makes him feel dependable 💪.
Also feels safe whenever he gets to play with your hands.
Loves your skin so much.
The texture, the veins, the wrinkles, the stretch marks; he goes feral for everything that is you.
You compare proportions sometimes.
König is strangely competitive when it comes to his thighs.
If you have bigger thighs than him, you're going to have to reassure him that yes, he is still your big bear, and yes, he is still very handsome. And yes, of course he's not too weak for you.
Proves it via the aforementioned riding sessions.
Is your #1 fan.
No dispute.
Oh, btw, if you wear any kind of leather or latex around him, he's hard until you take it off (or he takes it off you).
He just can't handle your silhouette.
Just does something to a man.
This man in particular.
That memory will haunt him in the best possible way for as long as tiem exists.
Proves kind of troublesome during missions though ngl.
You know, during times when König really needs to not be hard.
Would hammer anyone into the ground who made you feel insecure about yourself.
"König...when did you buy those red gloves?"
König, looking down at his blood-drenched hands: "Uhh...last week at the market?"
His nickname for you is "Cake."
Short and sweet. Just like you.
Unless you're tall. In that case tall and sweet lmao.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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loveforquanrui · 3 months
Text
the love I hold for you
제로베이스원 - jebewon as things they would definitely do as boyfriends!, gn reader. i dont think there is any disclaimers but let me know if i missed any!
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-jiwoong-
showing a different side of himself
would show his true authentic self with you <3
would be really protective of you
since he wants to show he cares without being too "obvious" he would also over offer his help
but its so cute so it cancels out!
would care and love you so much
-hao-
introverted but clingly with you
hao is an introvert as we can all tell, and may need space but never from you
when he's tired, he would find so much comfort in your presence
constantly wants to be around you even if you guys aren't talking he just loves knowing you are there
you are his favorite
he chooses you over anyone else
-hanbin-
planning dates in advanced every week
hear me out in this, hanbin is an observer
he would allow you to plan the first few dates, and in those dates he is taking mental notes of your likes and dislikes
now he will tell you, he wants to plan the following dates
and from then on its funnn
he would take you to many new places like a art gallery or even invite you to his dance studio as a fun date
somehow hanbin will always think of something different for a date idea
-matthew-
teach you how to play video games
i know we all saw this man play league of legends now-
i have a feeling he would try to get his s/o into gaming
he would try to teach you how to play, and he is very patient
since he wants you to play with him, he is willing to spend some time teaching and training you to play these games
he takes it very seriously too
if you ended up not liking the game he would try to find another game that you'd like
regardless if he's not into that game, he would learn how to play it just for you <3
-taerae-
perform for you
strong believer in simp taerae
he would be so deeply in love with his s/o that sometimes they are above himself
if you are anxious, he would sing your favorite song to calm you down
if you are trying to fall asleep, he would play a calming tune in his guitar until you are fast asleep
feeling bummed out, no worries, taerae is dancing the newest tiktok trend for you!
this man will perform for you anytimes if it will make you smile
if you wanted to film a little dance video he would do it proudly
ahh taerae is such a cutie :'(
-ricky-
attention seeking and physical touch
hear me out ricky can sometimes be dismissive
although he clearly cares about other i think the baby cat has some trouble expressing it sometimes
since ricky would struggle to tell you he loves you sometimes he would be surprisingly very cuddly?
he would want to constantly have his arms around you even if he wasn't speaking to you
small gestures like cuddling or holding your hand are a big deal to him
its his way of showing his love
he would also seek your attention in the same way
he has very grabby hands constantly wanting your attention without actually saying it
-gyuvin-
carrying extra items for you
gyuvin is a goofy guy but he is also always taking mental notes of you
he would notice your favorite snacks and items you constantly use
he secretly carries your favorite snacks in his backpack
in his backpack there is chapstick, germx, and much more items you use on the daily
you would say "i'm really craving __" and all of a sudden he pulls out the snack from his backpack
needless to say gyuvin is prepared for anything you might need
-gunwook-
have a photo album dedicated of pictures of you
gunwook adores you
sometimes you catch him just starring at you deeply with a smile plastered on his space
he just loves looking at your face, as its a boost of serotonin for him
since he realized how happy it makes him, he takes about 3 pictures of you
sometimes you don't even know he is taking pictures, yet you still come out looking so good
and when he is in a bad mood or simply misses you he would go to his album titles Y/N and just look over all the pictures
he would be so smiley and thankful to have such a partner in his life
-yujin-
get you flowers at the right times
yujin would love getting you flowers
he knows how happy it can make you so he always gets you flowers
yet unbeknown to you he actually always steals one flower from the bouquet he buys
why?
because that way he knows when he needs to get you more flowers
of course he doesn't tell you this, since he wants to be seen as cool
but it's a sweet gesture that he loves doing <3
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ahhh guys I did not post as much as I wanted to for a bit. Buttt i hope you enjoyed this. Let me know if you would like a part two or even a fic. Don't forget my asks are always open not just for request but also for any questions or just talks you want to have <3
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pirateprincessblog · 6 months
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Daddy Chronicles
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𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉! 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘾𝙃 𝙄𝙎𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙐𝙄𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝟭𝟴。
𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲? ↳ Go Back ↳ Nah, I'm good
The boys are all aged up, I do not mention the exact age anywhere, so you are free to imagine whatever you want.
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳!
read for me
park seonghwa ➳ bookworm!reader, ceo!seonghwa, bestfriend'sdad!seonghwa
synopsis: best friend's father has a rather big book collection, and you are a big bookworm who has started losing touch with reality. he shows you just how real it can get away from the covers and pages.
one
two
three
in vino veritas
kim hongjoong ➳ artist!hongjoong, dilf!hongjoong
synopsis: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you.
one
player 9
jeong yunho ➳ footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, aunt!reader
synopsis: you always thought that your nephew's football coach was handsome, and when he invites all the parents and families to come watch him play a big match, you struggle to keep your cool while watching his clothes stick to his body and his face and muscles glistening with sweat.
one
three is a crowd
kang yeosang ➳ swimminginstructor!yeosang
synopsis: a tragic event in your childhood created an aquaphobia for you. at pool parties, beaches, and camping, you are always the one to stay out of the water. until your father finds you a swimming instructor, who solves one problem, but creates another one.
put on a show
song mingi ➳ ceo!mingi, fashiondesigner!mingi, model!reader
synopsis: your ceo is to die for. drop dead gorgeous, aged like fine wine, a figure you’d kill to have. his only problem? he might be the meanest person you’ve ever met in your life. then why are you enjoying his degrading words as he makes you take every inch he has to give you?
silver band
choi san ➳ collegeprofessor!san, student!reader
synopsis: choi san is a married man, and the hottest professor you’ve ever seen. you feel unnatural amounts of jealousy and hatred each time he opens his laptop to start the lesson, showing everyone through the projector the desktop picture of his wife while he opens the files he needs to teach. you want a taste of him so bad, but he shows zero interest towards you. or anyone else. so how will you pull this off?
white dress
choi jongho ➳ dad’sbestfriend!jongho, bride!reader
synopsis: you don’t love this man at all. he is a cheater, he hits you, he flirts with other women in front of you. what has gotten into your father’s mind and is forcing you to marry that bastard? maybe his best friend has a little more compassion and will notice your silent cries for help.
20% off next buy
jung wooyoung ➳ cashier!wooyoung, pervyneighbour!wooyoung, innocentexploring!reader
synopsis: never in your life did you see a dildo this huge. it’s so… big, so purple, and it’s staring right back at you. the cashier seems to notice your horrified face with each isle you walk down, and he can’t help but offer you help. how can he help, when even you don’t know what you’re looking for?
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spacedace · 30 days
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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.
Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.
(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)
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Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.
A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.
It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.
Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.
Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.
But they were still kids.
Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.
Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.
Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.
Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.
They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.
Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.
Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.
They all knew why.
The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.
That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.
Robin II was an Alley Kid.
A true child of Gotham.
Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.
Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.
He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
Bad things happened to good kids all the time.
And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.
Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.
The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.
Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.
Or so the rumors said, at least.
That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.
Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.
And then the news came in.
There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.
Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.
Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.
Alone.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.
The Joker wasn’t most folks.
And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.
Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.
And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.
Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.
But the Bat would find him.
They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.
It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
The Clown still lived.
The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.
No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.
That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.
They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.
And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.
Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.
Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.
Not Robin II either.
Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.
No.
It was a new Robin.
A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.
Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.
The Clown had killed Robin II.
Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.
Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.
The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.
But he never did.
Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.
Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.
And then the Bat stepped in.
Revived the fucking Clown.
A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.
He was a good kid.
He deserved better.
Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.
Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.
It was their turn.
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ashipiko · 8 days
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—NIKO CIMARRON
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All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆
—MORE UNDER CUT
BASIC INFORMATION:
Class: 2-A
Birthday: October 24
Height: 176cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands
Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)
Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Likes: Making a profit
Dislikes: Getting outsmarted
Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things
Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot
Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth
GALLERY:
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VOICE CLAIM:
YUU’S INTERVIEW:
— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —
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for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.
There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.
> You know what I’m here for, Niko.
> Why are you surprised?
No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…
It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡
> I think it matches your vibe.
> You’re one to talk.
Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.
…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.
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> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.
> (…They’re cuter than expected.)
Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.
It’s about time to start though, huh?
> Yeah.
> No more wasting time.
INTERVIEW: START!
1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?
A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.
> No thanks.
> Why not?
They’re tasty, I prommie~.
2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?
Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.
3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?
Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.
If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?
Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.
4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?
Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.
If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.
5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?
Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!
> Not the focus of the question.
> That’s not…!
It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡
> Again, no thanks.
> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.
Keep me in mind~.
6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?
…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.
> You are annoying, but…
> (Would it be mean to say something?)
I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.
Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.
…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡
> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.
> Really, it’s fine, Niko…
Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡
Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?
> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.
> (That was a quick turnaround.)
…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.
INTERVIEW: END!
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> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)
> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)
.
.
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TRIVIA:
Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.
He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.
He can be considered a fan of Vil.
Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.
Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.
Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.
He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.
Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.
Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.
Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.
Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.
More to be added!
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mistyacorn · 1 year
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don't worry about me
sypnosis; dan heng gets pretty badly hurt after fighting a monster one day and you have to make sure your boyfriend’s okay!
pairing(s); bf dan heng + (trailblazer) gn! reader ⟿ featuring; established relationship, flustered dan heng (hehe), kinda dialogue heavy at the start
❀ wc; 1,585
a/n; ok to explain my inspo, whenever i play hsr and dan heng is dying, i heal the lovely man ofc, and his voiceline literally is "don't worry about me" (꧆▽꧆). anyw this turned out way sappier than i imagined loool
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You have just arrived in the Astral Express after a long day of helping Natasha with the clinic. You’re feeling tired, and going around Belebog alone today just added to the exhaustion.
You actually missed having Dan Heng tell you to make rational choices during your quests. Without your boyfriend today, you ended up fighting probably double the enemies you needed to.. Plus, (you’d never tell her this) but you secretly missed March’s bright voice.
Speaking of her, as soon as you step into the parlor car, you’re greeted by the smiley girl. She’s sitting on one of the couches with Himeko, and they wave you over.
“y/n!” She sings, “come look! I took these today.” You approach the pair, greeting Himeko with a friendly smile and look at March’s phone with them.
“See here… this was when we were on the way to Rivet Town!” She shows you guys a selfie of herself grinning widely, with a deadpanned Dan Heng behind her. You and Himeko giggle. “The town was pretty cool. It was all dark and eerie, like some sort of ghost town! I wanted to film for you guys but the place was flooded with monsters so Dan Heng told me to put my phone away and fight. What a party pooper.….”
You smile softly as the girl continues showing you and Himeko pictures she took (and snuck) of herself, Dan Heng, and the town. “Oh yeah! On our way back here, we encountered this huuuge monster. He was big and angry, it was scary!” She widens her eyes. “Thankfully Dan Heng was there! He fought that monster like his life depended on it. Which, it did.”
She scrolls through her gallery and exclaims, “Hey, look! I managed to snap a picture of it before we fought.”
March turns the phone to show you two. The image is a little blurry but you recognise the monster. You’d fought it sometime before, and truthfully, it wasn’t an easy fight. The last time you defeated it, you were fighting with Selee, Bronya, Dan Heng and March. If it was tough for a five person team… just how much harder was it for two?
“It looks really strong, March.” Himeko speaks the words in your mind, “did either of you get hurt?” You turn to March, eyes wide with a little worry.
The girl thinks for a second before shaking her head. “Nope. I’m okay now!” She nods, pausing straight after. A sheepish smile takes over her face. “To be honest… Dan Heng did most of the fighting with that monster, heheh… I was knocked out 3 minutes in…”
You blink, heart beating just a little faster. “Is- is he badly hurt?” You ask.
March replies quickly, “Don’t worry, he said he was alright! Just a few scratches, a little sore.”
Himeko nods. “I did see him before he went to his room earlier, he didn’t look like he was in pain.”
You hum in reply. Dan Heng is strong, you know that. But you knew your boyfriend, and he never shows his pain. Even if he was a breath away from death, he’d still say ‘I’m fine’ with a blank face to anyone who asks.
You decide to excuse yourself to check on him. Nobody knows what state he could be in right now. Bruised? Bleeding? Dead??? (Okay so you are overthinking a tad bit but hey, it’s possible.)
As soon as you get to his room door, you nearly slam it open. You scan the room frantically before seeing Dan Heng, who’s sitting down on his makeshift bed with his back against the shelf behind him.
You immediately dash to his side and study him. In front of him is a box of bandaids, a bottle of antibacterial solution and a bag of cotton balls. He’s holding a soaked cotton ball too. The boy has his shirt off, and you clearly see the bruises and scars on his torso and arms. You can see the little cuts on his face, one or two looking awfully deep. Your eyes start to water at the sight. It must hurt so badly…
“you’re back already?” His voice sounds, making you look up at him. You feel like you can’t talk so you nod. Dan Heng already knows how worried you are of course, as soon as he meets your glistening eyes. He sighs. “y/n, I’m okay.”
You blink, eyes still watering as you furrow your brows slightly. “Are you sure?? It look bad babe..”
“It’s.. not as bad as it looks. Trust me- Ow.” He tries to assure you, although he accidentally winces when you touch on his cheek lightly. You widen your eyes as he closes his eyes and sighs.
“Sorry!” You peep, suddenly aware of every move you make around him. You didn’t want to make things worse.
He shakes his head, eyes fluttering open again. “It’s alright.” He replies, then moves to continue tending to his wounds on one arm. “I just need to- disinfect these.”
You watch him wince between every few words. As he proceeds to clean the rest of his cuts, you stare like a hawk, as if doing that will make the process less painful for him.
Dan Heng clears his throat. You glance up at him again and this time, you can see he looks a little shy. You tilt your head in confusion. “Um…” his eyes flicker and he looks down shyly, “would you be comfortable helping me with the cuts on my back? I can’t reach those.”
Oh! “Of course.” You nod quickly, scooting forward to plant yourself right in front of your boyfriend. You grab a cotton ball and soak it in the antibacterial solution. Meanwhile, Dan Heng turns himself around, back facing you. Secretly, he’s glad he can turn away from you, so he can hide his embarrassment.
Since the start of your relationship, you and Dan Heng have never really been a physical couple. Mostly due to the fact that he’s not the physically affectionate type. He often feel guilty about it. You never complain though, since to you, your boyfriend expresses his love in other ways that are cute and sweet.
Having never been physical, you also haven’t seen him shirtless. So this situation being the first time, Dan Heng feels a little flustered. You, being so focused on making sure his wounds are cleaned properly, don’t realise it at all.
The whole time as you’re disinfecting each wound with care, his cheeks are burning and his ears are bright red. He’s so grateful that you’re too busy to see him like this.
With all that on his mind, he barely reacts to your cleaning. Before he knows it, you’re done.
“Okay, I’m done here.” You announce, sighing in satisfaction. “You can turn around now.”
Dan Heng slowly turns back around, not really wanting to because he can still feel his face burning. You ready yourself with another soaked cotton ball. He glances at it in your hand and furrows his brows, an invisible question mark appearing above his head. “What’s that for?”
You smile softly, eyes filled with nothing but care as you scan the few cuts on his face. “Your face silly, there’s a few.” You point out. You move even closer now, placing yourself on his lap in order to do so. You focus on one scar at a time, tending to it. “Tell me if it’s really bad, okay? I’ll be gentle.”
“…Yeah.” He barely whispers. Now your faces are less than three inches apart. While you are staring at his scars, his eyes are on you and your focused face. His heart is thumping like crazy. Seeing you being so careful with him makes Dan Heng feel warm inside. He feels like he’s falling in love with you even more right there and then.
Besides a little white noise, the room is comfortably silent. Occasionally his breath hitches from the sharp pain but it’s nothing too painful.
There’s one cut left to disinfect, and this one is visibly deeper than the rest. You softly dab on it, but the stinging catches Dan Heng off guard and he flinches. “Sorry baby.” You say softly, an apologetic look on your face. “Just a little more.”
He nods, quietly speaking. “Don’t worry about me. I… It doesn’t hurt.” You simply hum in response. It’s clear that he’s lying. He never wants to cause trouble for anyone, especially for you, and you grin softly knowing that.
Moments later, you finish up by sticking a bandaid on the cut. You can finally breathe a sigh of relief. “There we go.” Your eyes meet his again, and this time you notice the flushed look on his face. You smile confusingly. “What?”
“Um.. you’re- I- uh…” Your boyfriend stutters, barely able to look you in the eyes. You’ve never seen his this flustered before. It takes a moment before it hits you.
You’re sitting in his lap. He’s shirtless. Oh. OH.
“Oh my- sorry!” Your eyes widen, cheeks getting rosy. Dan Heng looks to the side, his cheeks burning, shaking his head to say ‘no it’s fine’. You move to get up from his lap.
In the very moment, Dan Heng doesn’t know what washes over him but he grabs hold of your arm gently to stop you from getting up. Your eyes interlock, both of you flushed. “Thank you for helping me.” His whispers.
And before you can reply, his soft lips are planted onto yours.
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© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim
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becomingmina · 3 months
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hey would you be able to write a felix x fem reader angst? when felix falls out of love with her.
“Are you sure it’s not hate?” angst w/Felix 18+ only mdni.
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“I asked you a question baby,” you say from across the kitchen island. Felix was occupied on his phone, sitting on the stool on the other side of the counter.
“I gave you an answer Y/N,” he huffs after a few seconds, not lifting his head from the device.
“Yeah, but not verbally though,” you make your way over to him.
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’re grown enough to figure it out, Y/N,” he replies back, rolling his eyes up from his screen for a second before continuing with scrolling.
“You’re really fine with them being blue?” You questioned again, hugging him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder.
“They’re just cupcakes, they’ll get eaten anyways. I don’t understand what’s the big problem with the colour of the icing,” he says irritated.
It was Chan’s turn to host dinner for your friend group. You and Felix usually bring over homemade cupcakes for dessert. It was a ritual to spend every last Saturday of the month together in the kitchen baking and decorating two dozen cupcakes. And usually, it was Felix who would have a hard time choosing the colour for the icing but today it seems he just wanted to get the cupcakes over and done with.
“Okay,” you replied defeated, feeling a little hurt at his tone. “Did you wanna help me?” You softly asked, sniffing his shoulder to take in his sweet scent.
“I’m busy,” Felix sighed.
“Okay, I’ll iced them then,” you moved yourself away Felix, walking back to your original position in the kitchen.
Lately you feel like Felix hasn’t been his clingy needy self. He would stick onto you like glue every second of the day but recently he’s been distant. You can’t pinpoint when exactly it became like this, but you were sure it’s been a couple of weeks by now. He’s been telling you that work has been busy for him, and you understand how it can affect him, but you still feel a little bit downhearted when he visually shows his annoyance with you.
After finished up with the icing and getting yourself ready, you sat in living room with the box of cupcakes on your lap patiently waiting for Felix. He had locked himself in the office, saying he needed to go over his feedback for some report for work.
“Hey, how’d it go?” You ask when you hear the office door open, but he ignores your question as he searches for his car keys. You expected it didn't go well.
The car ride to Chan’s was silent as you figured you should probably give him some space. He looks over to your side a couple of times noticing your quietness, but he doesn’t strike conversation with you, only making a few little comments about how bad traffic was. You brushed off his lack of initiative making excuses for him that he was just tired from work.
“He surprised me the other day! He’s going to rent out my favourite art gallery for our wedding reception,” Hana and Hyunjin was giving the group details their upcoming wedding at dinner. They were so cheerful talking about it and although you loved it for them, you couldn’t help envy it and wished for you and Felix to reach that stage in life shortly.
“Who’s next? Felix? Y/N?” Chan teased with a raised brow, and you goofily smile at the older man. You turned your head to Felix to see his reaction, but his head is tilted down and his face was straight. Chan notices the tension and quickly changes subject hoping no one else catch on. It caught you by surprise that he wasn’t as responsive as you were to Chan’s joke. It got you second guessing if it was even work that’s been making him like this.
You spend the rest of the night with the other girlfriends. As they spoke about their recent dates with their partner, all you could do was be happy for them concealing the fact that you and Felix hadn’t been on one in ages. You keep glancing over at Felix throughout the night but he showed you no attention. Usually you would catch him staring at you and blowing kisses and winks at you, but tonight there was nothing.
The car ride home was the same as the car ride there - quiet.
Felix walked in your apartment first, you followed behind him closely. As you put your bag on the entry way table you tripped over a pair of shoes accidentally falling forward on Felix in the process.
“Y/N watch yourself!” Felix yells, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry,” you softly say as you got up. “I just tripped,” you defend yourself, feeling tears start to form in your eyes at his tone.
“God can you look where you’re going?!” he groans turning around to face you. He was red mad. He had never got this angry at you before for tripping over.
“Did I do something wrong to you Felix?” You asked softly, feeling something heavy in your chest. You needed an answer to why he’s been treating you differently, it’s obvious now that it wasn’t because of work. “Last couple of weeks you have just been distant towards me and I’m a little hurt by it,” you say cracking your voice in the process, pulling a string on Felix’s heart. He frowns at your reaction.
You watch him sigh, hesitating little bit before he answers “You know work is hectic-”
“-Is it?” You questioned in an offended tone, dumbfounded that he used the same excuse again - work. “Work is hectic that you have to yell at me because I accidentally tripped on your shoes? Work’s been hectic that you can’t even smile at me in front of our friends? Work’s been hectic that you can’t even answer a simple question about the colour of the icing on the cupcakes that use to mean so much to you?!”
You didn’t expect to have an outburst like this. Felix doesn’t reply, he just takes a deep breath watching you as you continue to lash out at him.
“You don’t ask if I’m okay anymore. You don’t hug me anymore. Because of work?” You chuckle, sarcastically.
“Y/N-” he takes a step closer to you.
“-You’ve leave for work early in the morning and come back home late on the days I’m at home-”
“I-” he tried to speak again.
“And when it’s the weekend you lock yourself in the office all day. You avoid spending time with me, you avoid talking to me.” Your face was red, brows furrowed as you keep your tears from falling.
“Y/N, let me talk-”
“What did I do to-” You cut him off again.
“I’m not inlove you anymore!” Your heart drops at his words. The tears you tried to conceal instantly rolls down your cheeks and you take in a sharp breath. “This relationship is draining me.” He adds, breaking you even more.
You didn’t expect this. He’s been so mean to you lately all because he wasn’t in love you anymore? It doesn’t make sense to you that all of this was done because he fell out of love. You refuse to believe it.
“Are you sure it’s not hate?” You sniffled, pulling another string from Felix’s heart. "Are you sure it's not because you hate me?" you repeat yourself when he doesn't answer, feeling a bit anxious that it might be true, that he actually hates you.
“Never.” Felix replied rapidly this time, his tone a lot more softer now. “I could never hate you Y/N." Felix continues to conceals his emotions, not letting anything pass you.
“But you’ve been acting like you do.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, your eyes wavering to seek any reaction from him.
“I just needed space Y/N.”
“I gave you space. So much space,” you retorted.
“I think we should..” he stops before he says the last words, letting you piece the puzzle by yourself.
“You want to leave me?” You question and he flicks his eyes away from yours. You got your answer.
He lets out a heavy breath, running his fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes falling back on yours. “It’s for the best Y/N.”
“No, I don’t understand. Where I go wrong, Lix?.” you reached out to grip his forearm as the tears continued down your face, dripping to the floor.
“I don’t want to be here with you anymore,” he says softly, trying to loosen himself from your hold but you latch onto him tighter as you shake your head no.
“That’s not a reason Lix. Tell me where I went wrong,” You needed answers. He owe it to you. “You were the one who chased me, remember? You made me fall in love with you. It’s been 4 years and you want to leave me? Why?” You asked, in a complete mess.
“I don’t know,” he replies. “I’m sorry Y/N,” Felix apologies.
“Tell me why?”
“I can’t-”
“Then stay.” If he didn’t have an answer then he shouldn’t leave you, it’s unfair.
Y/N,” he says firmly.
“Just for one night,” you say, taking in a deep breath. “You can leave when I fall asleep,” you surrendered, eyes wavering waiting for his answer. “Please,” you beg.
“Y/N.. Baby I can’t,” it was the first time he called you that in a while and your heart breaks once more. He stopped calling you that and started calling you by name for months now. How is it that you never noticed until now.
“I’ll let you go when I fall asleep.. Please..Just love me one last time, Felix.”
Felix contemplated. He stared at you. Your glossy eyes. Your runny nose. Your red cheeks. He watches your chest rises up and down as you tried to control yourself. He hates seeing you cry, he hates seeing you hurt. It breaks him. He gives in. “Okay.”
He has you on pulled up flushed on him on your shared bed, your legs tangled with his. Your face pressed again his chest as one of his hand is wrapped around your waist and the other traces nothings up and down your back. Your tears haven’t stop, they fall effortlessly out of your eyes on his shirt. You stay quiet. You want to talk. You have so many questions to ask. So many things you want to know. But you stay quiet because you know Felix won’t answer you. So instead you stare into nothing as you replay back your happiest memories with Felix. You can’t help the small smile that is pulled on your face as you remember everything, every detail of everyday with him.
You tried you best to stay awake but you feel your eye lids closing. You don’t want to give in to sleep because you know by the time you wake up, he’ll be gone. But you’re exhausted, both your body and mind.
Felix stares up at the ceiling. He’s guilty. He owes you a reason, he owes you answers but he keeps quiet. He replays back memories but he doesn’t have the same reaction as you. He doesn’t smile. He cries instead. Tears run down his face as you recalls the soft and sweet memories with you. How could he do this to you? How could he make you fall in love with him then walk out like this? How could he say he was no longer in love with you?
Felix doesn’t hear your sniffles anymore. He feels your breathing evens out with his body. You had fallen asleep in his arms.
Felix presses a kiss to your temple, his arm still holding your waist tightly.
“I’m sorry.”
{Mina’s notes: tmi - my ex fell out of love with me so this hits home a little. we meet when we were 12 and we broke up when we were 21. anyways, i hope you guys like this :)) and to the cuties anon who requested this, thank you very much!! sorry for making you wait, im just like felix i have no reason!}
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drewsprettygirl · 20 days
Text
love story . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁💐
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౨ৎ inspired with the song love story by indila !!
౨ৎ s1! rafe x fem! pogue! reader
౨ৎ angst, mentions of drugs, drinking, & fluff
౨ৎ takes place in midsummers - rafey baby so handsome there
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you met him at that state he was - relying on barry and his coke to calm his senses down. soon along, you became friends. he was your rock, and you were his.
of course - his sister, sarah had seen the unmistaken look in her troubled brother’s eyes, of which ones were dilated & jittery by the euphoria had turned serene and much more.. adoring?
no. that didn’t sound like the big bad rafe everyone knew and had on their books.
he had changed - because of a stupid girl. a stupid pogue. surely, he wouldn’t let that affect his family’s name! but god, he was wrong.
he’d grown fond of you, come to think of it - you weren’t like “your people” as he said it. he’d seen her as a sweet and caring person— something he lacked in his life.
so as you and him exchanged glances at the country club— you were a bartender, just serving him a glass of wine— you couldn’t help but be drawn to the man who sat across you in that little taupe barstool.
“i haven’t seen you here,” the blue eyed boy stared at you up and down.
“i just started a couple days ago.” she replied softly.
it only started like that. what could possibly go wrong?
it wasn’t until 10 months into it. midsummers was nearing— rafe had invited you to be his plus one. he was shy- a little bit jittery- and he handed you a flower.
“for me?” she said in awe, looking at the peony he had gotten her.
“yes you.” rafe had replied— coldly. he didn’t want to come off like a pussy, as his friends top and kelce called him for being too shy.
apart from you being a pogue, he had no issues. you were the first one he didn’t get into bad terms with, which surprisingly shocked you. —and shocked him too. he didn’t expect to fall hard, head over heels for you.
that led to him, on the following night of the next friday—waiting.
you had doubts, being a pogue in an all-kook annual party, you had your dress ready, hair done, but what else was there to it? you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t bring yourself to walk to your car to drive to figure 8. you couldn’t let yourself ruin the cameron name. you would never make an attempt to embarrass your lover. you were just a bartender— not some silverspoon-born girl.
he had a rose in his hand, constantly pacing across the room, his hand running through his hair, pushing it back. he felt himself getting hot, the camerons were about to come out, so where were you?
surely— you wouldn’t blow him off; he thought.
was he crazy? he kept checking his phone, looking at your contact. he checked your photos on his phone gallery, trying to calm himself down.
“rafe!” rose, his step-mother calls, telling him they have to go out of the door since the party’s starting. he runs a hand through his hair, and tries to breathe calmly.
the whole party, he had expected you to be with him. he had expected your hand in his, your arm linked with his, and your head on his shoulder. but where were you to be found?
he quickly typed on your contact;
—where are you sent 7:22
you immediately see the notification pop up, you were crying, you couldn’t bring yourself to text him back. you were breaking his heart and yours too.
it had been minutes since he sent that. no text backs?
—y/n sent 7:31
—why aren’t you here?? sent 7:32
—i thought you were coming w me sent 7:32
—i even bought you a damn dress sent 7:32
—y/n answer right fucking now sent 7:34
that was all it took to piss rafe off. you were blowing him off? he was furious— almost crushed a glass on how hard he was gripping it.
the whole night, he couldn’t sleep. what were you doing? all he could think of was you. does she even like me? does she still care? he sees you everywhere.
the next day, he checked his phone. no reply. he decided to drive to the country club in which— you were working at.
he was surprised to hear you didn’t come in this morning, supposedly calling in sick. lies. he thought. he knew you had a brain on you, and that you were quite smart in times like these. but right now, it wasn’t helping.
for the past week—he had been driving to the country club everyday, checking on you. which was not left unnoticed by ward.
“the fuck is on my credit card bills, boy? all from the country club?” ward asked rafe furiously.
“it’s just drinks.” rafe answered defensively, not wanting to talk to his dad anymore.
“put it on your card! not mine. you have your own card for that—“
“look, dad— the money—“
“what about the goddamn money!? you out of cash, rafe? see. this is what happens if you don’t bother to be responsible, to think! you don’t think, rafe! and to say i was the one who raised you.. god.” ward answered hastily, leaving the room with him massaging his own temples.
rafe was outraged. this whole week had turned for the worse, you were supposed to be there for him. but where were you?
his frustration brought him back to his worst behaviors. he spent his days at barry’s. snorting the white lines of fine powder.
“country club. what’s gotten you all knees for the c dust?”
“hard week, barry. don’t remind me.” rafe answered angrily, just wanting to get over it.
“i hear you haven’t been seein’ your girl, huh?”
“—so what!?”
“chill, chill, you’re actin’ out. she’s a pogue.”
“i haven’t seen her in a goddamn week. i don’t fuckin’ care if she’s one. she’s everything i think of, fuck.”
and that led to him, driving to your house at the cut. hearing a knock on your door, your mom calls you to open it while she was in the kitchen.
“rafe—“ she spoke softly, until she got cut off by his lips on hers. he smelled of beer. had he been drinking?
worried, she pulled him up to her room secretly. looking around to see if anyone was near them or could hear.
“have you been drinking?” she asked sadly. what had she done? all of that because of her? only a lazy nod was what she got from him, quickly laying him down on her bed.
“i’m sorry rafe.”
“what happened y/n? i thought you were gonna come and you’d be my date— i even bought you a fucking dress. a goddamn dress because i wanted you to look gorgeous that night. and what do i get? a dead rose and an absent woman—“
“i’m so sorry, please i promise you i am-“
“promise me.. everything’s alright between us baby.” rafe spoke softly with a drawl, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with yours as he stared at the ceiling. the lights were off and his only source was the one coming from the moon out the window, that cascaded your features.
“i do,” she replied with her voice slightly breaking. she leant down to hug him tight. she felt so sorry for him.
“i just- i dream of you. i- i fucking want you with me y/n, baby, stay with me, but i don’t- i don’t know how to love..” “fuck. i’m such a mess. dad’s on my ass again about the money- then you go fucking vague!”
“rafe, rafe, i’m so-“
“no, stop! just please- stop saying that.”
“i didn’t want- i couldn’t go anymore. i’m not rich, rafe. i’m not a kook for crying out loud! i just- i just didn’t wanna embarrass you,“
“no, baby, don’t say that,” he said, wrapping her lips in his.
“i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you gold if you don’t care, i’ll wait for you, i don’t give a fuck if you’ll ignore me- i’d even kill for you, baby.” rafe muttered.
she only looks at him with tears in her eyes, him wrapping his arms around her, wiping her tears away and kissing her.
“don’t fuckin’ pull shit like that on me again, mkay?” he hummed against her lips aggressively, pulling away.
“i’m sorry,” she sighed, feeling a tear stab my eye. “i just—didn’t want to try to fit in to be someone i’m not.” “i’m so sorry rafe,” she softly sobbed in his arms.
“shh, shh, it’s just you and me baby, i love you.” he whispered, rubbing your back.
“—i love you too.” she replied. nobody would possibly believe it but, love makes a fool of the kook king
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ 💐 ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ .
by drewsprettygirl 𝜗𝜚
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