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#and they expressed an interest in seeing more
verahella · 2 days
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yuji had never been in gojo’s office before.
he hadn’t even known such an office existed until he and nobara convinced megumi to let them fly on nue and ended up with their faces smooching a glass window (which was now broken) and they’d been called into gojo’s office for a punishment.
it was extravagant, consisting of a dark oak desk, a floor to ceiling window, marble floors and whatnot. but mostly empty, no traces to suggest that anybody occupied it. it was devoid of any warmth and gojo’s personality—except for a frame on the desk that caught yuji’s eye.
“hey sensei, isn’t that your girlfriend?!”
gojo’s eyes flit to the photograph before he sighs, “she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”
“what?!” nobara screeches, “she was the best you could find! i mean good for her, she’s learnt her standards but now you’re definitely gonna die alone, sensei.”
even megumi’s lips were twisted into a frown.
yuji stutters, backtracking before they get kicked out of school, “wha-what she means to ask is why’d you break up? you guys were perfect for each other.” he pauses, “i think.”
he’d only seen her a few times around campus but she seemed like the sweetest person on earth, based on their few interactions. nobara definitely seemed to approve of her.
gojo props his legs up on the table, shrugging with his hands behind his head, “multiple reasons. first one, she’s out to torture me.”
“i am not.” the trio whips around to see you standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a flat expression. you lift up a bag, “you forgot your lunch. again. it’s been three times this week and it’s only wednesday.”
“as i was saying, she maimed my crotch permanently and lost any hope of mini me running around—”
“it was night and i got jumpscared by your radioactive blue eyes.”
“and then, she launched war on me and didn’t let me cuddle her.”
“because you came home bleeding with an injury that would worsen if i suffocated you.”
“and the worst of all,” gojo narrows his eyes at you, “she ate my kikifuku.”
“you’re a billionaire. just buy some more.” you shrug, placing the cover on his desk.
confusion lingers in the bemused side eyes of the students after the…interesting conversation.
“sure, they all sound heinous crimes…” yuji continues hesitantly, “but is it really worth breaking up over?”
“who said anything about breaking up? i just said that she wasn’t my girlfriend anymore.”
“now i’m even more convinced you were dropped on your head as a baby.” nobara blurts out but megumi’s eyes are already travelling to the ring on your finger, which gojo holds up to show off.
“she’s not my girlfriend anymore because she’s my wife!” he beams.
“fiancée.”
“for now.”
you roll your eyes but a fond smile blooms on your lips and gojo kisses your hand softly, “kids, say hi to mrs gojo. now i call dibs on yuji being the flower boy, megumi the ring bearer and nobara—”
“hold up. maybe we should think this through—”
“no wasting time. i need ijichi to sign the official babysitter documents for our future baby.”
“satoru!”
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drvscarlett · 3 days
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Let him cook
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader
Series Part: 1, 2, 3
A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series
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Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo
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liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.
Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list
User1 aint no way you cooked this
User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video
CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious
Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!
PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???
Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking
Y/NCooks posted a photo
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YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos
Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!
YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry
User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!
User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!
User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!
Mystery Box challenge episode
There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.
"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"
You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"
"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.
"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.
The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"
"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"
"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says
"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.
"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.
Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.
He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.
"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate
"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"
"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"
"Nothing, I just saw an ad"
"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"
"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"
Cake challenge
You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.
Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.
"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"
Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.
It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.
There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.
"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."
"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"
"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.
"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.
"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite
"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"
"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.
Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.
Melbourne GP meets MasterChef
This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.
"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"
There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.
"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"
All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.
Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.
"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed
"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.
"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined
"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested
That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.
It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.
"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"
"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"
"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.
So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.
"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.
"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.
"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"
Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"
Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.
"Goodluck on your race Charles!"
There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.
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wildestdreamsblog · 3 days
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Latibule Season 2: III
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.II
Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.
“Hyung, is it always like that?”
“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.
“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”
Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.
Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.
“What brought this on?”
“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”
Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.
He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.
“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”
Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.
“Why?”
“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”
“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.
“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.
Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”
To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”
“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”
Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”
 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.
“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.
“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”
The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.
He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.
And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.
One morning, it finally happened. There you were.
Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.
That was you, he was sure.
Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.
“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.
Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”
Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.
“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”
“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.
Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.
“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”
Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.
“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.
—-
Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.
Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  
Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.
Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.
So where was he?!
He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.
He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.
“At Seoul, hyung-“
“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”
“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”
Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”
Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“
His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.
There was you.
It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.
He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.
Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?
But no.
He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.
It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.
With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”
But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.
And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.
How did this happen to you?
Was it because of the incident?
Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?
Or did he miss all the glaring signs?
Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”
The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.
You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.
Until it did.
Until you understood each word written in that book.
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?
Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.
You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.
He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.
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kierahn · 1 day
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DRIVEN. [ y ! assassin x m ! reader ]
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[ nsfw, minors DNI ]
yandere! assassin x journalist! male reader
warnings :
nsfw
forced non-con [in bold letters]
dead dove
reader death
slight torture warning
no prep intercourse
semi-necrophilia ?
hi, i'm back after three months of dying🧍‍♂️ it might take me awhile before i post a fic again, but here's an update for you guys.
malachi was a man whose services could be availed with just the right amount of money. he isn't the type to settle for less, confident that he was beyond excellent at doing his job.
ask him to dispose of someone and it would be as if they never existed in the first place. most of his victims' bodies had never been found. that, or they would be beyond recognizable when found. traces of his victims' existence would be gone in a pull of a trigger, with only their names to be remembered by their loved ones.
you were a journalist, renowned for your boldness and endless pursuit for the truth. unlike malachi, your silence can't be bought by any amount of money. you never hesitated to shed light on several issues which made you a formidable force in the eyes of the elite. after all, a journalist who values transparency above anything is someone to be feared by their kind; shrouded with secrets that they dare not reveal to the media.
you were well aware of the risks that came with your job, but that never once detered your work. truly remarkable, but idiotic in a sense.
you knew that it would all come to bite you back someday. with all those companies that you had brought down and names that you have ruined; maybe this was your karma catching up to you.
even as you stood at the receiving end of malachi's gun, regret never once entered your mind. you will never regret challenging the elites. they were nothing but a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their status and disposing of anything that threatened to destroy it.
over the past few months he had been keeping a watchful eye on you, malachi hadn't expected you to barely flinch despite having a gun pressed against your forehead.
"what an interesting reaction," the male on the other end mused as his calculating gaze studied your unfazed expression.
you truly were a bold one, always so headstrong and indifferent. even when threatened with a bullet through your skull, you stood your ground, not even a yell for help or a plead for him to spare you.
"why am i not surprised," a sound of amusement escaped malachi's lips. "you've always been so fearless. perhaps, you were already expecting this to happen."
he wasn't entirely wrong, you've long envisioned this scenario inside your head.
you stood with an oddly placid expression before the barrel of his gun, but your hands told a completely different story. they trembled against your sides, a stark contrast to your calm demeanor.
you were scared.
you could only hope that he could do it quickly to save you from further embarrassment.
"there's no point in prolonging this, is there ?" you spat out in spite, opening the door for death who stood at your doorstep.
your eyes were always so full of challenge, malachi wanted to rip that away from you. he had always wanted to see you with a different expression; whether it was fear or something more.
"a shame," he slightly lowered the gun in his hand, now pointed right where your heart lies. "i've grown quite fond of you, journalist." malachi shamelessly confessed.
something you two had in common was being highly driven by your work. unfortunately for you, malachi still had a job he was committed to.
‘ bang! ‘
he didn't fret over the possibility of the gunshot being heard by a passerby. if anyone were to investigate the source of the sound, he would simply dispose of them too.
malachi watched intently as you dropped to the ground.
and there it was. your fearful expression.
your eyes were wide with tears as you clutched your side where the bullet lodged itself, your breathing laboured as your mind quickly worked to try and numb out the excruciating pain you felt. curses left your lips, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your wrist.
he wasn't quite contented in ending things there. normally, he would go for a swift kill and dispose of his victims afterwards. however, he had purposely shot you in a spot that didn't instantly put you to rest.
the sound of footsteps nearing your fallen form reached your ears before your hand was forcefully ripped away from your bleeding side and pinned beside your head, leaving you more vulnerable than you intially were as your killer straddles your bloodied waist.
malachi's eyes scanned your tearful expression with a hint of content. absentmindedly, his free hand moved to caress your open wound.
"!!" an excruciating scream left your lips when malachi suddenly dug his finger through your bullet wound.
his grip around your wrist tightened when you started to thrash around under him, your survival instincts kicking in. you tried to throw him off of you, but your frantic movements only caused your wound to open up more.
malachi clicked his tongue in disapproval, removing his finger from your wound. "now you're just making things harder for yourself."
“HN!– ha.. f.. uck you,” you curse him through gritted teeth. your expression hardened as you shut your teary eyes tightly, trying to minimize the pain.
he leans down to move his face close to yours, examining the tears that slid down your reddened cheeks and the saliva that trickled down your chin. malachi drew his hand that was stained with your blood, brushing it under your eye and leaving a streak of crimson red.
"you know," he starts softly, feeling you tremble underneath him. "this look suits you better than the stoic one that you always wore.”
"i bet i can make you show so much more than that," malachi chuckled darkly, his words holding anticipation. "consider this a parting gift for my dear journalist."
the male roughly grabbed your cheeks to prevent you from struggling when he leans in to capture your lips into a forced kiss. his other hand left your limp wrist to rest, slipping under your bloodied shirt and brushing over the bullet wound up to your chest.
his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the tight grip on your cheeks. anyone could tell that malachi was, to some degree, fond of the man under him.
he soon broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. his lips land on your shoulder where he suddenly bit down to leave his mark, making you flinch and let out a pained groan.
malachi pulled his lips away and gently licked the bleeding bitemark to try and soothe you in a way. he straightened back up to examine his handiwork.
your eyes seemed to be in a daze, your breathing slowing down. it was a clear indication that your conciousness was beginning to slip. but before life could completely escape you, malachi lands a harsh slap to your cheek.
"don't be so ungrateful, y/n." he warns, grabbing your cheeks roughly once more, his hand that was under your shirt leaving to grasp onto your thigh. "leaving without accepting my gift. no, no. i won’t let you do that.”
malachi released his grasp on your cheeks by roughly tossing your head to the side, he worked to unbuckle your belt before slipping your trousers down to your knees. he was seething. you couldn't leave him just yet, not without him seeing your expressions as he's (literally) fucking the life out of you.
your vision swayed as the blood loss eventually made you cease your struggles. the light in your eyes was slowly fading and so was your warmth.
but that didn't stop malachi from getting his entertainment. after pulling down his own trousers, malachi rammed himself into you in one single thrust, leaving you with no preparation as you jolt at the sudden intrusion.
you weakly claw at the male's clothed chest. there was just so much pain, from the bullet wound on your side to the bitemark on your shoulder, and now the size that stretched you out dry. you could feel something warm trickling down your thighs, a a texture you could recognize.
you sobbed quietly as the pain doubled when malachi started to move without giving you the time adjust to his size. the tip of his cock worked its way on your insides, trying to find the spot that would make you melt under him.
his eyes watched as your pained expressions turn into one of hesitance. readjusting himself, malachi sets his pace. he knew that he finally found the right spot when he felt your thigh twitch in his grasp and your walls tighten around his dick. lo and behold, your look of hesitance contorted into a disturbed one as you quickly throw an arm over your face to cover yourself.
a shameful moan escaped your lips as soon as he finally hits the spot that broke it all for you. it wasn't long before you turned into a hot mess under him. your chest rose and fell in a rapid rate as you whimpered and moaned under him.
malachi's free hand roughly removed the arm that covered your slutty expressions. you looked so lewd with his cock inside you, drool spilling from your lips and your eyes rolled back in undeniable pleasure.
now this was the sight he had been longing to see.
the pain from your wound was long gone as intense pleasure eventually replaced it. malachi quickened his pace when he noticed how your cock twitched, indicating that you were near your climax. he wasn't that cruel to deny you of orgasm in your last moments.
or maybe he was.
before the knot in your lower abdomen could come undone, malachi grabbed a hold of his gun and shot you straight in between your eyes, lodging a bullet through your skull and finally putting you to rest.
your warm blood stained his lower abdomen, trickling down to his cock that continued to drive into you who had long went limp under him, your eyes deprived of life.
he gave a few more thrusts before finally spilling his warm seed inside of your ass. his breaths were heavy as he kept his cock buried inside your now freezing and stiff body.
malachi soon pulled out of your corpse, fixing his trousers and standing back up. he sheated his gun back on its holster as he gazed down at your limp body.
he knew he was fucked up, but this was on another level.
he smiled smugly.
maybe you should've picked another job in the first place.
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hoonloml · 2 days
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PARTY ; LEE HEESEUNG
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hoonloml masterlist
pairing : roommate!heeseung x fem!reader
wordcount : 1521 words
warning : um touching her body a little 🤏🏻
chérie speaking : I'm lack of idea for the prince series actually, im this close 🤏🏻 to discontinued. But i still trying find idea. And here i am 😶
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You see Heeseung sitting alone on the sofa drinking in the living room. He looks lost in thoughts, you can hear music playing around you. You carefully sat next to him, your voice tender as you called him by his nickname, "Seung"
He looks up at you silently, his expression remains blank but you see some pain reflected in his eyes. He looks like he will cry but doesn't allow himself to do that. "Hm?"
"You didn't go to the party...?" you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice as you glanced at him. You remembered how desperately he had pleaded for you to come early, but you had to reject his invitation since you were busy with other tasks.
"no,"
He sips the drink and stares at the floor as he puts the glass down. He doesn't wanna look at you, seems like he is trying to avoid eye contact. A few seconds later he looks up at you still silent, he seems a little drunk. He puts the glass down again and turns his head to face the sofa. His lips curl into a bitter smile. "It's not like anybody noticed anyway, right?"
"I'm sorry, Heeseung," you apologized softly, regret lacing your words. "I'm very busy with my assignment."
"I heard that before."
He replies, his voice is cold and emotionless. You are not exactly used to this tone from Jay. Seems like you hurt him more than he showed.
"Look, it's not even a big deal about the party," you reasoned gently, trying to diffuse the tension. "Let's just focus on ensuring you're okay right now."
"I'm not just talking about the party! I'm talking about the whole thing!"
He slams his hand on the table and makes everything fall in place. He is drunk now and he is not keeping his emotions in control anymore.
"I tried. I put my heart in this, I tried to reach out to you, I tried to talk to you, but every time I had to deal with I'm busy, I don't have time bullshit."
"Please, Heeseung. I'll hang out with you after my exams, I promise. Please?" you pleaded earnestly, hoping he would understand your situation.
He puts the glass on the table and turns his body towards you finally looking at you. You can see he is a little mad now, his expression still serious but there's a certain bitterness in it. "You just want me around when it suits you, huh?"
"W-what do you mean?" You asked, your voice is full of uncertainty, and I would like clarification on his intentions.
"You are not interested in me otherwise; you avoid hanging out with me, you give me lame excuses, or don't give me an answer when I ask if you wanna hang out. But you'll come to me and pretend to care the night when I need somebody. Because you need me to make you feel better when you are lonely, right?"
"no, I'm not Heeseung"
"Yeah, sure."
He cuts you off, his eyes narrow. "I don't expect you to understand, I never expected it anyway."
He finishes his drink and tosses the glass behind him, it shatters on the floor in pieces. His voice gets rougher as he continues. "You don't even wanna try."
He stares at you sharply, his body is tense and it's hard to believe this boy is the one who used to be so kind and soft. You recognize it but he seems to be a completely different guy right now.
You were shocked when the glass shattered, your voice filled with concern. "Heeseung, are you crazy? You could get hurt!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side to make sure he was okay.
He didn't seem to care much about the glass. He doesn't look like he is sober anymore, his mood is getting worse and the alcohol is taking over.
"I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."
He trails off for a moment and his grip loosens a little, he's breathing heavier. He shakes his head and clears his throat.
He stands up, a little wobbly, and starts walking towards you. He steps closer to you and puts his hands into your hair, a little roughly, he starts twisting it around his fingers, his grip is tight and your neck is pulled a little. 
"I'm so tired of those words... I'm always there for you, right? Whenever you need me but you.."
"I'm tired... I'm tired of being just your friend while I want something more." 
He says in a low voice. His tone changed suddenly and now he sounds like he is pleading you. He moves his face closer to you and tries to make eye contact.
"You know how I feel about you... So, please...I just need you to be by my side. Do that for me." He sounds soft and a bit desperate, his voice has cracked a little bit. He's getting drunk now.
Before you say anything, he suddenly moves his hand down to your waist and pulls himself closer to you, now he is directly facing you closely and their faces are inches apart. He keeps his grip tight and his other hand goes to your hair pulling you even closer. His breath hitches for a moment when his lips are only inches away from your face but he doesn't kiss you just yet. His hand on your waist gets lower and his gaze is fixed on your lips. He is drunk but he knows what he is doing right now.
"You're drunk, Heeseung... You will regret this tomorrow," you said softly, your words tinged with worry as you watched him, hoping he would listen to reason.
"Maybe I'll regret it." He replies with a strained smile, still doesn't move his lips away from yours. He is not drunk enough to lose control yet.
"But right now I wanna kiss you so let me enjoy it at least for tonight."
He leans in to close the gap and finally, your lips meet. He pulls you even closer as he starts kissing you. His kiss is sloppy, and his mouth is rough but his grip on you only gets tighter, his hand wraps around your lower back pulling you even closer to him.
It's not the kiss you would expect from Heeseung, he is usually sweet and gentle but tonight he is passionate and desperate. His lips bite on you playfully and his hands start gliding against your body. Despite your hesitation at the beginning of his kiss, you begin responding to him now, at first it's hesitant and a little uncertain but eventually you melt in his touch. His kiss turns more aggressive, now it's full of passion which makes your breath catch in your throat
Your bodies are pressed together, your lips parted with him, and his hands are all over your body. Heeseung is completely lost in the kiss. It feels so good, so right, like you have always been meant to belong with each other. His body moves around you while he deepens the kiss, leaning forward and then slowly tilting your head back. There is no reluctance anymore, you both are enjoying the kiss. Your bodies are pressed together tightly, he caresses your hair and neck with one hand while the other one goes lower towards your thigh.
Heeseung's body is pressing against yours now. Both of you are breathing heavily and you can feel his warmth around you, it feels so good. The alcohol has made him so bold and he is not holding back right now. He is slowly bringing down his hands to your thighs before his fingers reach under your shirt. He doesn't move his mouth away from you either to speak, it seems like he wants to keep this moment going for as long as possible.
His lips trail down to your neck and he starts kissing and nibbling on it eagerly, his other hand continues to wander under your shirt but now he is touching your bare skin. Heeseung is completely focused on you now, nothing else is important but the feel of your skin under his fingers. He wants to explore every inch of your body, the feeling of your skin is so addictive.
When his tongue finds its way to your neck and starts sucking on it, your body shivers in response but you don't pull away. Your chest feels like it's heavy and your heartbeat quickens. You put your arms around Heeseung's neck and pull him closer to you, you want to be even closer to him while he explores your body.
Heeseung's mouth is exploring your neck now. He kisses and bites you, he wants to devour you, and he starts to mark you as his. You can feel his warm breath on your skin and the hand under your shirt moves towards your stomach. Heeseung's heart is beating so fast that his chest is trembling, the passion and intimacy is driving him further and further.
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©hoonloml, 2024 - please do not steal, copy, or even repost on other platforms. Thank you 🙏🏻
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hunajan · 2 days
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TOMURA SHIGARAKI HEADCANONS (NSFW)
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Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Smut, fluff 💕
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi
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Shigaraki is rather confident about most of the things he does, but due to isolation by AFO at an early age, he hasn’t had a chance to think about anything else but the goal implanted in his mind
Meaning he’s never approached women, though partially the reason for that is also because he’s always thought and actually already accepted that no one could like him
He doesn’t have any strong feelings about it, it’s just always been that way
He would be able to act neutrally around his love interest as he’d just decide not to react and instead wait for his feelings to go away
He is more worried about your safety though than others, but at the same time he fully trusts you and your skills
Flirting with him is useless since he’s absolutely oblivious to it, if anything it’d probably just confuse him, so if you want to express your feelings to him, you need to be very frank
He needs a strong emotional connection to be entirely himself around you so a solid, safe and trusting friendship at first would be an ideal situation for him
He isn’t used to physical affection so preferably wait till both of your feelings become obvious, that way intimacy could come more naturally from him, therefore it’d also be easier
He wouldn’t initiate the first kiss, because of his insecurities so when you finally press your lips against his, he has to tell himself that he’s not dreaming and that you and your feelings are real
With you, he becomes very aware of his quirk, which makes him treat you with extreme care
When he’s convinced that nothing bad happens when he touches you, he allows more room for his own feelings, especially his touch deprived side
In time becomes more confident in expressing affection and gets encouraged when you show your love for him
When lying in bed together he loves to have his arms wrapped around your waist while you play with his hair
Every time you ask him to touch you, his love for you grows, because anyone who’s aware of the nature of his quirk, would never ask him that, yet you still want him
When having sex for the first time, a proper foreplay is what makes him more confident as he sees what makes you feel good
Your pleasure is definitely more important to him than his own
Prefers to cum inside you as he considers it to be the most intimate way
He can easily get pussy drunk as he never thought there’d be anything that feels so good
Absolutely loves when you straddle him and press your breasts against his firm chest, lean in and whisper what kind of dirty things you wanna do to him
Prefers positions where you’re as close to each other as possible, for example missionary
Also enjoys to watch you ride him as your naked body is on full display, not to mention he also gets to see the pleasure written all over your face while moans escape your parted lips
Likes to slap your ass and grope your thighs
Always needs to see the fucked out expression on your beautiful face after you cum as he finds it an endearing sight
For most of his life he has had to take control and make decisions, that’s why he likes when you take charge
Shigaraki is mindful of your feelings, even when you have a fight, he’s the one that remains calm and wants to understand your point of view
When he sees that you accept all of him, including his flawed and violent side, he becomes extremely loyal and protective of you
He’s proud to have you for himself 💕
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harkonnin · 2 days
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* The heart is not meant to rule *
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader
Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc
Chapter 1 - Introduction Chapter 2 - Beginnings are such delicate times Chapter 3 - Eclipse Chapter 4 - A Time of Quiet Between the Storms Chapter 5 - Harkonnen Arena Chapter 6 - Water of life
*****
After a few more, albeit boring, days on Giedi Prime the Baron agrees on allowing you and your family to return to Caladan. He also states that Feyd and a bunch of servants would shortly join you once you’re settled again. This was code for ‘make sure the castle is up to standard before I send Feyd over’. Your father obliged happily; he even cracked a smile at the Baron. Very unlike him but happy to return home, as were most of you.
As soon as you return home you are greeted by your loyal subjects and ushered into the bathing areas. There’s a lot of toxic grime to wash off you, Giedi Prime really wasn’t the best place to visit, let alone live. You sat in a hot bath of rose salts and contemplated Feyd’s arrival, the things necessary to make his stay more pleasant. You’re pretty sure that the standards of living were better on Caladan, so besides personal interests, there wasn’t much you could do.
In the next few days you discussed the guest rooms, seeing if everything would be fitting for the Na-Baron. You had to admit you were quite excited at the prospect of seeing Feyd again, experiencing him out of his comfort zone, on a planet that didn’t worship him. Like a fish out of the water, which Caladan had plenty of. You wonder if he ever even saw the oceans before, the green fields you had, the scent of a Caladian rose, the feeling of a fresh fish in your hands after having captured it… there was so much unspoken positive anxiety in your mind that it slowly dawned on you that you started to develop feelings in a certain way.
*
After about a week, the Harkonnen arrived. A huge, pitch-black ship landed on the green fields and your entire family stood outside to greet them upon arrival. As the ship door made a shushing sound whilst opening, your brother looked at you, a small smile on his lips. You mouthed ‘what’ at him, also smiling. He smiled a bit deeper and shook his head. “Nothing”, he said, whilst putting his hands up defensively. He was mocking you, he obviously read your body language these past days, and it was safe to say that you were looking forward to this moment a bit too much. You had been found talking to servants about the amenities you all needed to provide in extensive detail, you’ve never really cared that much about a guest before, but somehow now it involved your potential soon to be husband, and everything needed to be perfect.
Paul thought it was endearing, he would always be the protective older brother, yet seeing you genuinely interested in a formal setting like that also made him happy inside. He planned to have a talk with Feyd in the future before anything ever happened, to make sure you would be taken care of. And if not, there would be consequences. But for now, keeping the peace would be the simplest.
The ship door had fully levelled, and people started to walk down and out of the ship. It was slightly clouded on Caladan, almost always, so everything was a bit dimmed and dulled out. Everyone was dressed in formal wear, your father had on his military jacket, so did your brother. Your mother was dressed in a light blue flowing dress with a hood, and you were wearing a green to white gradient flowing dress, a very different view than the clothing you wore on Giedi Prime. Feeling safe at home and free, the dress expressed the colours of your house and the way your planet looked for outsiders. If you had to say so yourself, you looked stunning. The wind softly making your dress sway and making the dress even more alluring.
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You spotted Feyd from the small crowd now in front of your family, also in formal attire. Harkonnens stood for strong and contrasting black and white colouring, so it was no surprise to see him in a full black outfit. A leather top with long sleeves, and a thick wide pant combined into a statuesque Na-Baron who had a very imposing and cold demeanour. When your eyes met however, he smiled at you, making your heart skip several beats. It still felt extremely strange to you that you were so affected by him, knowing the history and the place he came from. Seeing him murder prisoners, the fact that he attacked you on your first day, the speculation that he might’ve murdered his own mother… everything was a red flag, and yet you didn’t want to give up on him for some reason. Maybe this time seeing the best in people, or giving everyone an equal chance, would end up killing you. But it wouldn’t be like you to not at least try once.
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*
Feyd had been travelling for a few days prior to landing, being utterly bored in the ship. No one to train with, no one to pester. None of his family joined him, as he would be fine in the care of the Atreides, so all he had was a few servants to sit with. He all but locked himself in his quarters preparing for the arrival on Caladan. When they finally did, he jumped up, almost ecstatic about finally getting out of this ship. Or so he thought. He was looking forward to this meeting most of all, taking the days long trip happily a few times over to be able to see you again. He had been opposed to a forced marriage, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about you.
As he got dressed for these unnecessary formalities, he decided on an outfit that would strike fear, something that would set him apart from the people on Caladan. A servant knocked on the door to announce they would be landing soon. Feyd hurried to the door of the ship, walking with determination. As the door opened with a loud noise, he started to smell the scent of your planet. A petrichor reached his nose, fresh and earthy. A hint of salt, and a feeling of a dusting of rain on his face. He closed his eyes and took it all in, the air felt extremely clean here, it was like he had never experienced such an innocent feeling from nature. He chuckled to himself, weirdly enough this reminded him of you. How the both of you enveloped the feeling of your home planets so well.
The light that shone on your planet was soft, and the colours struck him. He wasn’t used to going off planet, and neither were his servants. This was all very new and overwhelming in a way. There were some servants who even exclaimed softly how beautiful this was, looking at the green grass like they had never seen anything like it before. They started to move out of the ship, and he saw you standing on a small platform with your family. You seemed to be in conversation with your brother, both smiling. Struck by your beauty and gentleness of your soft smile, his breath hitched in his throat, not being used to this feeling he started to wonder if the oxygen on this planet was trying to choke him. Realising he was not, he swallowed hard and started to move out of the ship after the servants.
As he started to approach your family, you turned towards him, and your eyes met. He kept your stare and started to feel his palms sweat. Being nervous was not an emotion Feyd often experienced, certainly not with women or people weaker than him. He smiled at you however, trying to calm himself down. When you smiled back, he felt his worries disappear. You had that effect on him, and like a drug he didn’t want to quit that feeling. He vowed to himself to make you smile more often.
*
After some long moments of formalities, you were all finally sat at the dining table, Feyd had been shown to his quarters earlier, and pretty much sent all the servants back home, save two. He had no interest in being babied, and wanted to experience Caladan like you would. If need be, he could always ask one of your ‘servants’ to do something for him. Little did he know that your family didn’t have the concept of servants, and instead the people helping and looking after your family were all here because of their own free will. People that would go through fire for their duke and his family. Feyd would soon come to understand all this, but for now, dinner was served.
The food on Caladan was vastly different, more fresh and more direct than the food they ate on Giedi Prime. There were huge plates of fish and wild animals, complimented by the freshest greens and fruit you had. The dining table was a lot smaller than Feyd was used to, and he was sat in front of you again, but able to reach you with his legs. You were aware of this however and decided to keep your legs tucked under your chair for now, not wanting to illicit a reaction that could be misinterpreted. Feyd seemed to enjoy the food however, you imagine he had been hungry since the food on a traveling ship is always a bit depressing. It’s more survival food than anything else. The conversation between your father and Feyd was pleasant so far. Leto thanking Feyd for taking the time to experience Caladan for the time being and asking him if he wanted to have training days with his best warriors. Feyd almost rolled his eyes at the idea that there would be anyone who would be able to beat him on this planet, but he reacted honourably instead.
It felt like he was going beyond to impress you, to be as respectable as you had wanted. You realised you might’ve been a bit too harsh on the Harkonnen and on Feyd. You relax in your chair a bit more at the revelation and allow yourself to drop your guarded expressions. Feyd notices the shift in your body language, like the predator he is, and makes eye contact with you. You give him a soft smile and his eyes soften a bit at your honesty. You let your legs stretch out a little bit and accidently brush Feyd’s foot. You don’t dare to look up however, knowing full well what his expression might be.
You clear your throat after a few more seconds and look up at Feyd in a slightly more guarded way. You excuse yourself and express gratitude towards Feyd and his servants for making the trip all the way to Caladan. Tomorrow would be the day that you show him the land, castle and people that make up your culture, your history, lineage, and all the sort that makes House Atreides what they are. You decide to retire early and make the most out of your sleeping schedule. Feyd stands up as you do and bows before you leave, expressing his interest and how he looks forward to tomorrow. It’s slightly off putting how he says it, but you decide not to let it get the better of you.
*
 You had much difficulty trying to get to sleep, tossing and turning often. You never really have dreams like your brother does, you sometimes see very faint visions but can almost never recall what it meant. Last night was exactly like that. You keep dreaming of the wet, damp grass under your hands, but none of it means anything. It just seems like 1% of the actual scene that’s being played in your subconscious. You wish you had more insight, but that would require more Bene Gesserit training, and you really did not want to do that. So, for now all you had was that moment in the grass.
 You get out of bed and go to the en suite bathroom, splash some water in your face and prepare for the day. Be it lack of sleep, or you not being on guard on your home planet, you decide to wear something more casual. You assume that formalities are now over, and Feyd would be a temporary guest instead of a representative of house Harkonnen. You hope he also drops the formalities, as this seems to make the tension appear higher than it should be. You have nothing to fear on Caladan, besides the need of wanting to stay. A problem for later honestly.
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As you leave to get some quick breakfast you notice a servant of Feyd near your bedroom door. You look at her and she looks down immediately, she seems innocent enough, but so did the servant that poisoned you. You’re cautious at this point, but walk up to her nonetheless. She notices you coming over and addresses you.
“Lady Atreides,” you notice as she speaks that this was the same servant girl that spoke to you about the history of the Harkonnen, who told you about Feyd’s childhood. “It’s nice seeing you again, uuh-“ you linger, not knowing her name. “What’s your name actually? Sorry, I never asked.”
You see her freak out a tad, her eyes wide, you definitely overstepped a boundary of some sort. She hesitates long enough for you to feel pity for her.
“… Tula, my lady.” You sigh happily, “tell me Tula, why are you here?”
She looks up at you and smiles softly, it’s almost strange to see a Harkonnen servant girl smile. You truly wonder if Feyd has ever hurt her, already feeling pissed off if he ever did.
“The na-Baron has asked me to give you this, as a token of his appreciation.”
She holds in her hand a blade, pitch black and engraved. It has a dark green shine on the hilt and a foreign looking shape to it. You feel like this is a kind of wealth your family is not used to, it feels expensive. It’s also incredibly sharp which makes it one of the deadliest items you’ve ever received. You realise that this type of gift coming from him means a lot. It feels like he’s showing you a part of his heart, like he’s being open with you about his intentions. Although it could also be a challenge.
“Tell me,” you say as you take the blade in one hand, “on Giedi Prime, is giving someone a blade a gift or a challenge, because I need to know if he is going to attack me later or not”.
Having heard about your first encounter, Tula chuckles, which makes you smile at her some more.
“No no, my Lady, this is quite certainly a gift, he made sure of that”, she points out a tiny red hawk in the engraved portion.
You look at it up close, it looked like extremely intricate work. You’re amazed he managed to get this made in less than a week. Tula sees you stare at the knife and decides to speak up.
“If the Lady has no more requests, I shall return to my quarters”, she speaks softly.
You look at her, deciding against conveying a message to Feyd via her.
“Maybe I should introduce you to our friends in the castle, I seriously doubt Feyd needs all your help right now. Just relax and take in Caladan while you’re here.”
She looked paler than usual, maybe you were testing her limits more than you should. It was important for you however that the servants also had a good stay. Since you had no intention of abusing your power anytime soon, the difference in an Atreides and a Harkonnen, so to speak. She went dead quiet as she ushered her to follow you as you introduced her to some of the castle staff. There weren’t too many people working there, but the few that did, were to be trusted.
As you left her in the capable hands of the people that practically raised you, you made your way to your quarters again. You put the gift, the blade, on your nightstand and admired it for a few more minutes. It was impressive that for someone so atrocious, brutal and primal, he had the instinct to do something that might be considered weak and nice. It was like he was pushing against the boundaries in which he was raised, trying to see what it would be like should he have chosen his own path.
Speculation, of course. For you couldn’t trust him for now. And he had no intention of marrying you, so you wondered what his plan was with you.
*
As you make your way towards Feyd’s quarters one of your staff members informs you he already left his bedroom earlier this morning. She mentions he said something about needing training and requested for a strong fighter to be his training partner. You already feel sorry for the person who got tasked with that.
You go down a flight of stairs and walk a tad faster as soon as you hear the grunts and breaths of two people fighting. You turn the corner and see Feyd wrestling with Duncan. You decide to lean against the wall and study them both. They looked like they had been at it for quite a while already, both too stubborn to give in or stop, or both equally intimidated and wanting to prove themselves. Their wrestling match ends up in Duncan being flung over Feyd’s back and pinned down with his long legs, his arm in a tough position, where it could be snapped within any second now.
You decide to break up the tension.
“I think we have a winner,” you shout.
Both men perk up at you, slightly shocked at hearing you. Feyd let’s go of Duncan’s arm and unwraps from his torso. They’re both sweating and Duncan’s hair is undone. He smiles warmly at you, and you go up towards them. He tackles you into a hug and picks you up, you exclaim from all the sweat you’re feeling. Feeling instantly dirty and a tad embarrassed that Feyd is watching you through all this, you tell him to put you down while laughing.
Feyd’s expression was hard to read at this point, he was glistening with sweat, the sun making him look paler than before. You look at him awkwardly, almost saying sorry for this entire display, but Duncan breaks the silence for you.
“I thought you were going to snap me in half, Harkonnen.”
He weirdly compliments Feyd’s fighting ability as he lets go of you. Feyd’s eyes still on you.
“I still might,” he says, as he turns his glance towards the older man. He takes it in for a few seconds, “I believe you might,” he turns to you “Is it true what they say about him, my Lady?”
You cock your head to the side and take a good look at Feyd’s expression. The last thing you want to do is offend your guest.
“That he’s a formidable fighter?” you reach out to your scar, and he watches your hand, his expression once more guarded, unreadable. You smile softly at him, trying to lighten the situation. “I’ve seen it first-hand, just be glad this isn’t a knife fight.”
Somehow that didn’t lighten the tension, as Duncan just realised what that scar meant. He frowns and looks over to Feyd.
“Did you do this?”, he said as he got in Feyd’s face.
You try to de-escalate the situation by trying to talk to Duncan, but the damage was done. Feyd Interrupted your start of a sentence and got closer to him.
“I caught her roaming the halls of our palace with her weapons in her hands, she looked like a foreign assassin to me. I only did what was natural.”
His tongue like a viper, enjoying this moment of peacocking in front of you. You honestly didn’t want this to turn south, as both men had a point, but they were overreacting right now.
You decide to step in between them, facing Duncan. A clear signal that as the Lady Atreides you had to defend your guest in this moment.
“You can’t let him do this to you,” Duncan says.
You look over your shoulder at Feyd, his eyes burning into yours, you trusted him to not do anything rash. You took a glimpse of his cheek, where the scar you left him was still a pink-ish tone, indicating that you cut deeper than he did. As you turned to the front again you noticed Feyd had gotten closer to you, standing firmly behind you.
“As you can see, I didn’t just let him.”, you hope this is enough for now to convince Duncan that you were fine, and that your first meeting was just, weird at best.
You had no idea what Feyd was doing at this point, but Duncan did. Feyd kept staring at you, it unsettled him. He feared for your life at this point, but knowing his position he also knew he had little to no say about these agreed upon formalities.
“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” He spoke to you. “As for you, if you ever hurt her, I will know where to find you.”
And with the end of that threat, he leaves. You keep your eyes on him as he leaves, sighing softly. It almost felt sad to you, he seemed hurt for some reason. You hope he comes around soon, since losing Duncan would be one of the worst things that could happen to you.
Feyd waits until you turn around, looking up at him. He was a looming presence, everywhere and always. You also just noticed that the clothes he wore were somewhat casual. A long sleeve black top with a harness on top of it, long sleek pants and tough boots. His top was sticking to his torso like it was hanging on for dear life. You couldn’t keep yourself from looking down a bit, mesmerised by his muscular but slim body, his soft white skin contrasting the harsh black colours. The sun probably didn’t help to cool him down either.
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You feel a bit more relaxed now that Duncan is gone, the awkward peacocking having stopped now. You look up at Feyd and your eyes soften.
“I’m quite impressed by your physical prowess, Feyd,” praising him like that would surely calm him down a bit but having worded it like that made him chuckle almost. Y
ou just realised the innuendo you spoke and turn a bit red in the face. He creeps closer, only a few inches from your face. He smells like dew on grass, having rolled around in it all this morning.
“What did my Lady think of her gift?” he looks down at you, his breathe hitting your face softly, taking you in for the first time today.
Noticing you were dressed more casual today, less uncomfortable. Formalities were also something that restricted Feyd, he understood having the need to feel at ease, in whatever skin you wanted to portray yourself that day. He appreciated the fact that you dropped formalities with him, making this transition to Caladan all the easier for him.
You start to walk, your arm making a sign for him to follow as you do. He joins you on your right side.
“It looks absolutely gorgeous Feyd. I’m extremely flattered at the craftsmanship that went into it, thank you.”
His hands are resting behind his back, so you can’t quite shake his hand. So instead you just smile up at him. He loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, how softly you say his name. No hate dripping off if it whatsoever. He was new to you, and you felt like someone who wouldn’t judge a person based on hear-say or looks.
“It was made by our finest craftsmen, the blade itself made from a meteorite that shared your birth year”.
What the hell.
“How-? How did you find a meteorite like that? On Giedi Prime?”
He actually chuckled; you still had a lot to learn about the Harkonnen. The amount of wealth they had was something you couldn’t fathom. An Atreides getting a meteorite stone would take weeks, months if it was a specific one, and it would also be an investment rather than a simple purchase. You weren’t poor, but Feyd’s richer than thou chuckle made you feel it.
“House Harkonnen could give you everything your heart desired. Anything.”
He looked at you intensely, meaning every word he just said. You’re a bit taken aback. Feyd keeps trying to woo you but has also expressed his need to stay a single man. He can’t have it both ways. You will not be someone’s concubine; your parents might love each other but they should have been married a long time ago. You will not share the same faith.
As you open your mouth to discuss such matters, Gurney Halleck walks just around the corner with a group of soldiers, all in military dress up. It has been weeks since you’ve seen him. He always gave you the feeling that he was this grumpy but attentive uncle you had, even though he wasn’t family. In your excitement you didn’t realise you had walked over to the group and hugged Gurney. He was all smiles and hugged you back, the men also greeting you. As you had some small talk, he brushed some hair out of your face and squeezed your arm as he said goodbye.
Feyd realised that the people of Caladan loved you, you were well respected as the Duke’s daughter but most of all, loved. Not feared like him. He realised you had enough prospects that could marry you if they were given the chance and opportunity. And it seemed you had a good relationship with all of them, not to say this made him jealous. The way you were engaging with them, touching them, and how they were touching you. It made him seethe with anger. You were supposed to be his, his betrothed. He felt possessive over you, protective but also controlling. He never really cared that much for anyone, or at least he thought that this was “caring”.
Gurney moved past you to go and shake Feyd’s hand, introducing himself as weapons master to house Atreides. The Harkonnen reluctant to shake his hand, making it awkward for everyone in the room.
“… Come on now son, I don’t have all day”, he spoke.
Feyd sees you staring at him and feels the need to at least show some niceties to your ‘servants’. He gives Gurney his hand and squeezes it strongly. The older man just laughs, and you softly sigh to yourself, apparently quite tense at the situation at hand. They break the handshake, but Feyd is giving him a death stare. It wasn’t uncommon for people your age to have dabbled in, let’s say, intimate intercourse with servants or staff members, certainly before getting sent off to get married for political reasons. The fact that you were unabashedly talking to all these men sent Feyd into a mental spiral. He started to assume things that weren’t there. Call it insecurity or possessiveness, both came from a lack of control in his life.
Gurney bids you both farewell and makes his way towards the barracks with his men. Feyd notices some of these men were eyeing you up, their pupils dilated or he noticed a difference in their breathing. As they moved past him, he shot his eyes back at you, but stayed quiet. You feel something shift uncomfortably in your stomach, had you offended him? Was this all too casual for him, having to meet people he would deem as lowly servants?
There was an awkward silence between you two, as you walked back to enter the castle. You decide to speak up, the tension killing you inside.
“My Lord Na-Baron, did I offend you in any way just now?” you choose your words carefully, not wanting to upset him any further.
You saw his jaw tightening as you spoke, something was definitely wrong.
“If my Lady wants to explain herself for her behaviour, I will gladly listen.”
He spat out, voice more gravely than what you were used to. You are taken aback and blink a few times as his words go through your mind. You stop dead in your tracks. He doesn’t notice until he’s a few steps ahead.
“My… behaviour?” you softly speak. “I don’t know if it’s normal for someone of your stature to be in close contact with your soldiers like that. On Giedi Prime you would be labelled… promiscuous.”
There was nothing funny about the way he said it, he was not smiling, yet you felt the need to huff a laugh at him. He had the balls to call you a slut in your own house. Your own planet. After seeing you be nothing more than friendly with people who have known you since childhood. The Harkonnen truly were a different species of human, their entire belief system was built on an insecurity and distrust of others. It was clear to you now, Feyd would never allow you to stay as free as you were now. He’d rather lock you up in a cage, like a bird, in his possession.
“It’s funny how you think I should not be allowed to sleep around if I wanted to, when you have your own set of concubines to choose from back at home.” You snap back at him, sounding more vicious than you planned to. Tit for that.
He looked anything but pleased at that. Remembering he had murdered his concubines for the sheer sake of their jealousy towards you, he now had nothing back home in that matter.
“You are promised to ME, and I will use everything in my power to keep it like that,” he says as he gets closer to you, “I will not let you forget it either,” he grabs a fistful of your hair in his hand and pushes you against the wall in the castle hall.
You grunt and your hands automatically go towards his strong arm. He’s looming over you at this point, you’re reacting to the pain on your head from his unnecessary violence. Tears start to form in your eyes, his grasp softening a little bit. Your breathing is heavy on his lips, he’s close, much too close.
“Let go of me,” you struggle to get the words out without sounding pathetic.
At this point a tear falls down your cheek, over your scar. He trails it with his eyes then looks back into yours.
“I will never share you with anyone, you’re much too pretty for that.”
He’s saying all these nice words, whilst pinning you against the wall. You’re about 3 seconds away from kicking him in his nether region but realise he still had a hand free, which would most likely result in you falling to the ground and hurting yourself, so you decide against it.
“What does it matter Feyd?” you manage to spit out at him.
He loves seeing the fire behind your eyes, your defiance, even if you’re put into a weaker position. He searches for someone who can hold his interest, who has the same intensity as he does.
Instead of answering he waits for you to elaborate, cocking his head to the side.
“You said you have no-no intention of marrying me, so why does it fucking matter to you?!” another tear drops from your eye, a real one this time.
Your insecurity shining through, your need to be worth it for someone, even if it was a psychotic Harkonnen. You stop trying to push him away, and let your hands go soft around his arm. You stare up at him with your teared up eyes, hoping he understood that you weren’t here to fight him.
He believes your honesty, he also realises you’re probably a virgin, since it’s truly uncommon that a woman your age would have done anything before marriage. It also doesn’t seem like House Atreides is built on the satisfaction of personal needs, but the needs of the many. He has no friendships on Giedi Prime, only servants. He loves seeing you all needy for him, but also realises he hurt you in the progress to get to hear those words from you. The last thing he wants is an unhealthy relationship between you both.
He lets go of your head, putting his hand on the wall behind you. You’re still stuck between the wall and his tall figure, holding his arm for the little stability you get from it. He looks down at you, eyes filled with lust and his remaining anger. You're staring at each other and you feel your heart pound in your chest...
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when the sea calls for three | 3
Pairings: Azriel x Reader x Eris
Words: 5.3K
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Autumn Court
“She’s late!” Eris's voice thundered through the hallway, his steps echoing on the stone floors of Forest House. You remained composed, waiting patiently as you heard his approach. Knowing full well the fiery storm that would follow.
The doors burst open with a forceful push, and Eris entered into the room like a whirlwind, his expression a mixture of frustration and impatience. He opened his mouth to unleash a barrage of complaints, only to falter as he caught sight of you seated calmly with his mother, sharing tea.
There was that fire. A flicker of it anyway.
You were no stranger to the fiery nature of the Vanserra’s. Lucien had his own, but it was interesting how differently it manifested in them. 
Lucien’s heat was like a welcoming hearth, radiating warmth and comfort like a cosy fireplace. But beneath, lurked potential. His fire, always crackling, could easily spread if provoked.
Beron had always been like a volcanic eruption, spitting burning molten fury upon anyone who crossed his path with no warning or restraint.
Restraint was something you felt Eris had a multitude of.
He was different. His fire felt different. Always simmering, on the verge of boiling over but never quite reaching it. It was as if he had learned to temper his flames, dampening them in the presence of his father. Now, with Beron gone, perhaps that simmering intensity would finally have the chance to ignite into something new.
You guessed only time would tell.
Sensing the tension, Lady Autumn, Hestia, intervened with a gentle smile. "I must apologise, my son," she began, her tone soothing. "I simply couldn't resist stealing y/n away for a quick catch-up. Don't hold her responsible when it is I that is at fault"
You couldn't help but smirk, finding amusement in the sight of Eris momentarily caught off guard. His previous expression of frustration changed into something that bore indifference. 
As you and Lady Hestia rose to greet him, she enveloped you in a warm embrace, "We're all thrilled to have you here. Oh, how I wish your mother could see you now. She would be bursting with pride." Genuine love left those words. The mention of your late mother stirred a bittersweet ache in your heart, and you noticed how even Eris’ expression softened.
"I'll leave you both to it," Lady Hestia beamed once more, her gaze shifting between you and Eris with pride. “I believe the pair of you will do wonderful things for this court. Together.” She held one of your hands in hers, while her other rested gently on her son's cheek. Leaning in, her voice softened to a whisper. "I'm proud of you too, you know."
Eris's expression softened further at his mother's words, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. He had brought an end to it all—his father's reign, the tyranny that had gripped them all. For his mother, for his brothers, for his people. He had taken the ultimate risk, and succeeded. You knew if it was Beron that still stood here to today, he would have had no part in this new peace treaty. 
If not for Eris's courage, well, you wouldn’t be standing here in Autumn today either, ready to forge a new path forward.
Despite the poor reputation that often preceded him, you had always suspected there was more to Eris than met the eye. Beneath that hard molten exterior, you were sure a kindness lingered. 
A small flicker of a flame.
A rare spark you had glimpsed in your younger years– a quality that you knew came from Hestia. It was a golden thread of hope you clung to, that perhaps beneath all those hard layers, the real Eris would now reveal himself. 
That maybe he was more like Lucien than either of them would ever admit.
However, he made it all too easy to believe the opinions of others when he looked at you like that. His unreadable expression, stoic and yet fiery with eyes that harboured resentment.
Who were you kidding? This was Eris Vanserra.
Eris reluctantly led you down the winding corridors of Forest House. You’d forgotten how large this place was, how deep the levels went. Memories of your childhood flickered through your mind as you recalled times where you and Lucien had ran down these very halls. Eris hadn’t taken you to the lower levels, instead he showed you the way to the western wing on one of the higher floors. 
Eris halted before a grand oak door. With a subtle gesture, he swung it open to reveal the spacious chamber beyond. "This room is yours." Eris announced, his tone begrudging.
He could have just got a member of his staff to do this. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but you realised he was trying. That perhaps years of pretending to be this evil heir to appease his father may actually take time to erase.
So you would give him a chance. As you were giving all the courts, it was only fair.
Stepping inside, you were greeted by the warmth of a crackling fire and the inviting embrace of luxurious furnishings. The bed, adorned with sheets in hues of burnt orange and chocolate. A sight that made you want to curl up on the sheets there and then, Autumn had always been cosy. A large ornate wooden desk occupied one corner, while a private washroom beckoned from the side.
You surveyed the space with a sense of amusement, a soft chuckle escaping your lips at the indulgent opulence. The quietness of the quarters enveloped you, the secluded area obvious.
Was he hiding you in this part of the house? You’d noticed how it was far from the heart of the home.
"Do I have this entire wing to myself?" you quipped playfully, your eyes dancing with amusement as you turned to face Eris.
Eris's response was matter-of-fact. "My quarters reside in this part of the house” he states plainly, his expression revealing a hint of reluctance.
Surprised by his choice, you press further. "You haven't taken up the High Lord's quarters?"
A moment of emotion passes over Eris's features as he shakes his head. "I don't want to displace my mother from the room she's spent centuries in. Plus, I have no desire to inhabit my father's spaces. This part of the house has always been mine."
You nod in understanding, appreciating his unwavering respect and love he’s always had for his mother. A quality all of his brothers had.
Although you assumed there was more to it than just a son’s respect for his mother. Were there areas of the house he didn’t want to go? Parts where his father’s presence still lingered. 
“It’s eerily quiet…” you raised a brow, stepping to look outside the large window onto the beautiful autumn scenery.
“It is.” Eris's voice held a hint of amusement as he joined you by the window, his gaze following yours to the tranquil landscape outside. “It's so I can hear you if you get up to any trouble. My chamber is only down the hall.”
Ah, how quickly the taunts came. How natural this felt despite it being centuries.
Familiar, teasing and warm. His words had always felt like that when he spoke to you.
“Always so paranoid Eris…but good to know you’re only down the hall should I need you” you replied with a hum, only to watch that glint in Eris’ eyes turn playful.
“And why would you need me, little mouse?” His tone was teasing, and the old nickname sent a wave of nostalgia washing over you.
Little mouse.
That pet name. One you had almost forgotten about. The name instantly transporting you back to a time when you did indeed feel like a little mouse beneath Eris’ fox-like smile. 
Did he remember too? That time you almost gave yourself to him… 
You were at a ball, where you had slipped away, seeking solace from the overwhelming social obligations and the awkward third-wheeling as your friends found their own romantic pursuits for the evening. In the dimly lit corridors of the grand ballroom, you sought refuge away from the echoing sounds of laughter and music. You leaned against the cool marble walls, tugging at the tight corset around your waist.
It was then that Eris's voice, smooth and dark, pierced the silence around you. "What is Lucien's little girlfriend doing out here all alone?" His presence had seemed to materialise out of nowhere, his figure looming closer as he prowled towards you with a predatory grace.
You had rolled your eyes at his predictable taunts, a hint of exasperation tingeing your tone. "Really, Eris, that joke is getting old."
You watched as he came to stand in front of you, his presence already warming you. And you weren’t sure if that was because of the fire in his veins or the effect he had on you. It was perhaps not one of your proudest moments, but yes you may have had a small crush on your best friend’s older brother. His cold exterior usually scared most away, but there was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t been able to ignore.
You couldn't deny that you often found your eyes searching for Eris during your visits to Lucien. It was a fleeting fascination.
"Then if you are not my brother’s... does that mean this little mouse is available for the taking?" His words dripped with dark humour, tone laced with a hint of something more. You felt your cheeks flush with heat, betraying any composure you had.
As he leaned in close, the proximity between you electrifying, you found yourself at a loss for words. You were never at a loss for words, but somehow in the presence of Eris you were. He looked like a fox ready to feast on you, and there was a part of you that was willing to let him. Maybe it was low inhibitions from faerie wine, or simply the desire to have someone’s attention that night, but you would have let Eris devour you.
But then as his stare took in your expression, his gaze softened for a moment. It was only fleeting, but whatever had crossed his mind was enough for him to abruptly pull away and head back into the ballroom.
The rejection tasted bitter in your mouth, and so you pushed that feeling deep, deep, deep inside of yourself.
Eris seemed to wet his lip with his tongue as if recognising where that name had taken you, and he was relishing in it. “I guess if the little mouse finds herself needing a comforting presence at night I’m not too far away. Maybe if you ask nicely I might even let you share my be-”
You smacked his arm hard, cutting off whatever inappropriate sentence he was going to finish with. This was your fault really, you’d opened the gates to this type of talk. But it was so familiar, you couldn’t help yourself. It was like you were 21 again with that stupid all consuming crush on your best friend's older brother.
Old habits died hard it seemed.
You weren’t 21 anymore though, and you wouldn’t crumble under his stare. He was watching you now, curious to know if he had gone too far but that soft smirk spread across your lips giving him the satisfaction he needed.
“Careful High Lord,” You mused “Careful.” and with that you turned “Come, we have work to do.”
You had given him your warning, and yet it very much felt like a challenge to his ears.
༄ 
You and Eris sat in his office, staring at the miniscule pile of submissions that had been sent in by his court. While Summer and Night's inhabitants had been perhaps overly forthcoming in expressing their thoughts, Autumn's court remained eerily silent.
You flicked through the handful of submissions, each one echoing the same sentiment: satisfaction with the status quo. 
They were reluctant to rock the boat. 
Eris let out a frustrated sigh, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. "My father has instilled so much fear into the land that they're too scared to even present their problems," he muttered bitterly, his gaze fixed on the sparse pile of papers.
You took a moment to digest his words before speaking up. "But you are not your father, Eris."
He looked up at you, a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. "No, but to some, they consider me just as bad."
Why was it in the unspoken you truly heard him.
Am I just as bad?
Your heart clenched tightly at his doubts. "Then let's show them you're not," you suggested, your voice firm with determination.
Without waiting for a response, you stood up from your chair and walked out of the room, expecting him to follow. True to form, Eris hurried after you, his steps quickening to match your pace.
“Little mouse, I’m not fond of chasing.” Eris shouted, his voice echoing through the corridors of Forest House. You hastened your steps, keeping ahead of Eris’ footsteps.
As he caught up and grabbed your hand hard, pulling you to a stop, you couldn't help but notice the flicker of annoyance in his expression. "Looks like you chased me anyway," you quipped with a playful smile, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.
His hand was warm and firm, yet with a roughness that differed from the Shadowsigner’s touch.
Why were you comparing them?
You pulled your hand from his quickly, not giving yourself another moment to linger on how his skin felt against yours. “We need to change the narrative Eris, let’s meet your people directly.” 
Eris didn’t object, his gaze lingering on his hand for a moment before he scoffed, shaking his head. You could have sworn he wanted to smile. “You’ve always been so hard to say no to.”
“It’s because I’m always right” You sang, stepping out into the crisp autumn air, the leaves crunching beneath your feet as you made your way towards the nearest town. Eris following closely beside you.
The townspeople of Autumn seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind at the sight of their red-headed High Lord, their gazes darting away or pretending to be engrossed in their tasks. It was a reaction Eris had grown accustomed to, one that grated on his nerves more than he cared to admit. His stoic demeanour, a shield he'd always worn, now seemed to be the very barrier keeping his people at arm's length.
Approaching a farmer with a stall brimming with fresh autumn produce, you noticed the tension in the man's shoulders as he glanced nervously at Eris behind you. His wooden stand boasted an array of vibrant fruits and vegetables. "Could I buy a bag?" you asked with a warm smile, trying to ease the farmer's apprehension.
His response was tentative as he began to bag up some plump blackberries for you. "Has your harvest been good this week?" you inquired, attempting to strike up conversation.
He seemed hesitant at first to reply, but you introduced yourself with a small smile. Vaguely brushing over your new role, and what you, as well as Eris were setting out to do during this new reign of peace. The farmer rolled his shoulders back as if finding confidence. "I've been lucky… but some of the land has been struggling. There's a blight on some of the soil," he replied cautiously, his eyes still avoiding Eris's imposing figure.
"No one notified me," Eris interjected, his tone firm and harsh. But you knew there was an underlying concern that rang in his words.
"Apologies, your grace. With your father... may the cauldron bless him... he didn't like us to inform him of these issues, only to rectify them," the farmer explained, bowing slightly.
Eris went rigid, and you gave him a soft glare as if to remind him that he was supposed to be painting a new narrative here.
"I will send a harvest healer down to the farms. Please inform me if you come across such problems again," Eris instructed, his tone softer this time.
As the farmer passed you the bag of berries, Eris unexpectedly dropped a few gold coins into the man's hand, overpaying for the fruit. "Thank you, your grace," the farmer murmured gratefully before retreating.
Despite Eris's efforts, it was evident that it would take time for his people to see him in a different light. Coaxing more residents to open up proved challenging with Eris looming behind you, his presence an obvious deterrent. Determined to find a solution, you gently looped your arm through his, eliciting a faint frown and a subtle pull away from him. "What are you doing?" he grimaced at your touch.
Gods, you’d have thought you’d burned him with his reaction.
"Softening your image. Having a pretty thing on your arm won't do you any harm," you remarked with a playful smile, hoping to chip away at the walls he'd built around himself, one touch at a time. 
But despite how playful your reply was, your action was thought out. Having your charismatic smiley self on the arm of Eris, you hoped would sweeten his image, even just a little.
He merely rolled his eyes, his expression veering towards indifference, yet he didn't pull away. Your arm wrapped around his, drawing you intimately close, the warmth of the Vanserra male warding off the chill of the crisp autumn air. His scent enveloped you, a familiar blend of crackling fire, cloves, and cinnamon. 
Being this close to him wasn’t awful, a younger version of you may have even longed for this. 
Your plan had indeed worked. There was an undeniable charm in the sight of you hanging on the arm of the High Lord that seemed to thaw the reserve of the people, coaxing smiles and candid conversations from them.
The final stop for your visit was a bakery, one you remembered fondly from past visits. The sweet aroma of freshly baked goods wafted through the air, triggering a wave of nostalgia. "Please tell me you still have the pumpkin cream pie," you requested eagerly, your eyes lighting up. The baker's response was warm, and she quickly set about preparing one for you to take away. "You don’t understand how much I’ve missed this," you confessed, your excitement palpable. Eris had joined you by now, leaning casually against a nearby wall as he observed the interaction.
His expression softened as he watched you, the warmth of your personality radiating as you engaged with the baker. It was a quality of yours that had always drawn people to you, even from a young age. 
You had a way with words, a knack for always saying just the right thing. Whether it was to win an argument, gain the favour of opinion or uplift someone, the correct words always rolled off your tongue.
Pretty words from that pretty mouth.
Of course Eris knew the reason behind your charm, a secret he had long kept to himself. He knew of the abilities his little mouse possessed. 
He realised how long his gaze had settled on you, and it didn't escape his notice how the staff watched closely, some of them with a light tinge of pink covering their cheeks as they blushed,giggled and whispered between one another. In that moment, he realised the true power of having a ‘pretty thing’ on his arm.
Meanwhile, you were busy savouring the pumpkin cream, licking it off your finger with relish. "Gods, this is so good," you exclaimed, your smile infectious. But as you glanced up, you caught his unreadable gaze, and a hint of concern flickered in your eyes. 
Had you been too casual? Falling into this familiarity with him had felt so natural that you hadn’t even considered if it was maybe a tad unprofessional. Not that there would be anyone to reprimand you, but you did want to succeed in this role.
Swallowing, you decided to steer the conversation back to business. "I think this approach worked," you remarked, attempting to gauge his reaction. He was still looking forward as you both walked back to Forest House. "They were quite forthcoming with concerns once we got them to open up. There are a few areas I feel as though I'd be able to support." But his face remained inscrutable, as if he were pondering something much weightier.
Then, unexpectedly, he spoke, halting your steps in their tracks. "I want you to help me find a wife," he declared, his tone serious.
The request caught you off guard, though in hindsight, perhaps it shouldn't have. After all, he was the High Lord, and finding a suitable partner to rule his court with, and of course produce an heir, would be a natural priority for him.
"Of course, Eris," you replied, your tone as composed as you could manage. 
Why had the notion left you so uncomposed?
He smirked then softly “You were right about having a pretty thing on my arm. It worked…Plus it’s probably about time.”
You paused for a moment, your own lips spreading into a smile at what he had said. A younger version of you would have relished in this, being called ‘pretty’ by him. Perhaps, there was a version of you now that enjoyed it too.
"I'll begin looking into potential suitors for you right away." You decided to say, not trusting your usual snarky remarks.
“You can even look for those outside of Autumn, to help with your peace treaty and alliances or whatever. No one from that bastard Night Court though.”
You nodded with a soft chuckle. He had given you an olive branch. A martial alliance would be a great addition to this new era of peace.
Things were falling into place better than you had expected.
But beneath the surface, there was a pang, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher. Something you didn't dare acknowledge even to yourself.
༄ 
Dawn Court
Dawn had been the easier of the four courts to manage, with Thesan being your own High Lord. You had both arranged an in-person meeting for his people to gather and discuss their concerns in the flesh.
During Amarantha's reign, Dawn had stood steadfast in protecting its borders, thanks in part to your efforts. Reflecting on that time was hard, it brought back a mix of emotions and memories, ones you liked to leave in the depth of your mind. But the duty to defend your home had never sat comfortably with you, yet it was a responsibility you willingly shouldered. As a result, you had earned the admiration and affection of your people. 
It was ironic how once some of them had considered you and your family as outsiders, but now they revered you, often laying flowers at your feet. Pressing gifts into your hands and singing your blessings when you walked the streets. The praises and gifts had quietened down since the conflicts, but you often found a bouquet of flowers at your front door, or were stopped in the streets to be embraced.
Despite the concerns shared by all of Prythian, Dawn exhibited a sense of optimism amid the lingering apprehension about border openings. Morale remained low, and safety remained a paramount concern, but there was an obvious excitement about the prospect of travelling between courts. They wanted this new peace treaty to succeed, and they were willing to help in any way they could to change that.
For two days, you assisted Thesan in managing the affairs of Dawn, aiding him in delegating tasks and prioritising court matters. As the sun set on your final night, you retired to your townhouse nestled in the heart of the city. 
As you slumped into your living room, the sound of a deep voice filled the space. "And she finally finishes," the voice chuckled warmly.
Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa were sprawled across your couch and armchairs, making themselves at home in the space you had graciously offered them for their gatherings when they were in Prythian. They had a manor in the mortal lands, but you opened your home to them for when they needed to be more inland. 
You greeted them with a smile, leaning down to plant soft kisses on Vassa and Jurian's cheeks in greeting, before turning to Lucien. You passed him a small box, with a slice of Pumpkin Cream Pie inside. It elicited a chuckle as he picked up the slice.
“Oh you treat me so well doll.” he smirked, before devouring the slice in a few bites.
"So, have you not been on the continent?" you asked, finding your place next to Lucien and propping your feet up on his lap as you sank back into the couch.
You were utterly exhausted.
The first few weeks of this you had anticipated to be tough, but the amount of work was somewhat excessive. And it would start all over again tomorrow. The cycle repeating. Summer, Night, Autumn, Dawn.
"We were, but these two insisted on seeing you, and for the upcoming week, it's easier for them to be among the solar courts," Lucien explained with a shrug.
Vassa offered a small smile, though her discomfort at using your home without you was evident.
"Don't worry about it," you reassured her, waving off her concerns. You had known what she wanted to say within the unspoken. "My home is yours to use as you please. Besides, I'm hardly here these days anyway, so please, make yourselves at home."
With that, Jurian flashed a grin, sauntering over to your nearby trolley bearing a decanter filled with amber liquid. He quickly poured four glasses, passing them around.
“So, give us the rundown,” Jurian inquired, his gaze shifting between the two of you. You exchanged a glance with Lucien; you hadn't even had time to correspond with him this week, a reality you believed would continue. Tilting your head slightly, you encouraged Lucien to go first, while you sipped on your drink. The alcohol instantly warming your throat.
That was exactly what you needed after the long week.
Lucien began to list the concerns and events of his week, there was a clear similarity across Phyrthian you noticed. Morale was low, and people still felt divisive. Despite the unity forged in the war, that comradery hadn’t seemed to extend. Lucien gave your sock-covered feet a playful pinch, causing you to recoil them from his lap with a feigned glare. "Your turn," he quipped, prompting you to take the floor.
You ran them through your week, highlighting the issues and developments you encountered in the courts you were managing.
"You've opened up trade agreements for Summer, got Night to agree to a school, and are on the hunt for marriage suitors for my brother... Jeez, what else?" Lucien summarised with a scoff and eye roll.
"We can't all be as good as me, Lucie," you retorted, playfully nudging him with your elbow.
"Eris didn't give you too much of a hard time, did he?" Jurian asked playfully, his tone laced with familiarity.
It was nice to see how close Lucien had gotten with Jurian and Vassa, especially since his friendship fell apart with Tamlin. Lucien deserved this, deserved a circle.
You let out a nonchalant hum, absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. "You know, Eris isn't all that bad..." you trailed off, your thoughts drifting.
"Maybe not with you... He's always had a soft spot for you," Lucien interjected, shaking his head with a knowing look.
You playfully kicked your foot against his thigh. "What's that supposed to mean?"
A knowing smirk tugged at Lucien's lips. "You know exactly what it means. He's just always been softer with you."
You rolled your eyes, recalling your recent interactions with Eris. Soft was not a word you would use to describe him—perhaps playful or teasing, a little mean even, but not soft.
"What were the infamous Inner Circle like to be amongst?" Vassa interjected, redirecting the conversation.
"Fine, polite, worked hard," you replied, feeling Lucien's subtle fidgeting beside you. You knew the question he wanted to ask but didn't dare. "She wasn't there; I haven't met her yet," you added softly, referring to his mate.
You watched as your friend glanced down at his drink from your words, his usual witty exterior faltering for a moment. Lucien hadn’t indulged you in the finer details of what had transpired between him, Elain and the Shadowsinger. What had caused Elain’s abrupt withdrawal of contact from them both, but the strain it had on him was obvious. 
The one thing Lucein had shared, was that she hadn’t outright rejected the bond yet, you hoped that was some glimmer of something worth holding onto. 
Your fingers moved instinctively, reaching out to gently press against your friend's cheek. His eyes fluttered shut momentarily at your touch, before you playfully pulled on his cheek with a tug. "Get out of that pretty little head of yours, Lucie," you teased, tapping his cheek once more.
The touch had pulled his mind back to reality, as he swore under his breath and smacked your hand away. 
"Gods, you fae are so complicated, with all your complexities, bonds and relationships," Jurian quipped, his tone laced with amusement. You couldn't deny he had a point. Whether politically, platonically, or romantically, there always seemed to be layers upon layers, it’s what was making your new job all that much harder.
"Oh like you humans are any better." Lucien retorted quickly, there was a playfulness in his tone as he sipped on his drink.
"I'm sure if everyone got together and shared some drinks, we'd all be fine," Vassa added, as she raised her drink in the air. The liquid sloshing in her glass.
"Yeah, why can't we all just get shit-faced and go dancing or something? Nothing bonds people like a shared hangover," Jurian grinned.
The room filled with laughter as Lucien remarked something about the last time Jurian was hungover, Vassa quipping in. Your thoughts left you for a moment as they drifted to what Jurian had said.
Getting drunk and dancing had always been a release you’d loved, one shared by most fae and humans. Perhaps one the the few similarities you all shared. And although "getting shit-faced" wasn't the most elegant phrase, the sentiment behind it rang true.
“You two are actually onto something there…” you spoke, the words leaving your lips as your idea formed in your mind. You’d sat up now, looking at Lucien who only frowned at you.
"I'm pretty sure we can't arrange for everyone to have a huge piss-up," Lucien remarked dryly. “As much as I’d love it, it doesn’t feel very…appropriate.”
"We’re obviously not going to organise some sleazy boozer” you rolled your eyes at him.
“Shame.” Jurian piped up.
“But we can arrange a ball.” You smiled that dangerous grin that you knew Lucien found hard to ignore. “Phyrthian’s first ever Peace Ball” you continued, coining the term there and then.
Lucien leaned back into the couch, still looking at you as he digested your words. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, perhaps figuring out logistics for your outrageous idea. 
But slowly that fox-like grin you loved so much spread across his lips.
He put his glass up in the air “A fucking Peace Ball…”
You quickly raised your glass with a chuckle, Vassa and Jurian raising theirs too. 
Trade agreements, a school, diplomatic martial arrangments and now…a fucking Peace Ball. Lucien had made the right call bringing you on board; there was no one more convincing, more persuasive in all of Prythian. You and your pretty words would bring peace to this land, even if you had to force it upon them.
“Cheers!” 
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Next Part >> coming soon.
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a/n: Decided to post this early, sorry again if it's a little boring, just trying to set everything up. Would love to know what you think so far. How are you expecting this story to unfold? Is there anything in particular you're hoping to see with the story/characters/relationships? Would love your input <3 - Lottie
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minkyungseokie · 11 hours
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Three's A Crowd | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes
synopsis; y/n meets Kika and Pierre and they're immediately smitten. They try to express their interest, but it seems everyone except Y/n sees that
warnings; polyamory, controversial age gaps, implied homophobic family, implied religious ideology, random Portuguese and French pet names
note; requested
note2; I don't really like Kika, but it's that type where you don't dislike someone, but you don't like them either. I'm neutral about her ig
reader is African American with 3B hair
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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Although the relationship was new, Kika and Pierre were secure in their relationship. They trusted each other even though the the relationship was so new for them. They didn't think they'd be attracted to anyone other than each other. Kika never could've seen herself with someone of the same gender or anything.
Until they saw her.
               ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Kika was standing with Pierre in front of the Alpine garage, listening and looking around as Pierre talked to Charles about god knows what. She looked around the paddock until something caught her attention. It was an incoming group of people that included a bunch of visitors, engineers, Zhou, and a gorgeous woman who she had never seen before.
"Pierre. Pierre. Look." Kika tapped on her boyfriend's shoulder to greet his attention, "What is it?" Pierre asked, turning and putting an arm around the nineteen-year-old. "Who's that?" Kika questioned, pointing to the girl she had seen, "I don't know." Pierre answered breathily, "She's so pretty." Kika muttered and Pierre couldn't help but to agree, "But not as pretty as you." Pierre quickly added, kissing the top of her head.
"Shut up, Pierre." Kika joked, playfully slapping his chest while not taking her eyes off of the girl, "Charles, do you know who she is?" Pierre asked, pointing towards the girl who was in a pair of patchwork jeans, a yellow crop top with a weird pattern on it, and brown Prada platform shoes(if you don’t like the outfit, or you’re plus size, or you don’t wear immodest clothing, feel free to change it. I want to be inclusive!)
"Oh, she’s a friend I’ve known since her birth. She grew up with Arthur. " Charles said, "Is she single?" Another voice chimed in playfully. Lando popped up with a huge smile, showing that he was just joking, “She is single and in need of other friends or even a boyfriend. She third wheels with my girlfriend and I way too often.” Charles joked. “Introduce us to her.” Pierre blurted, eyes widening when his friends and girlfriend turned to him with questioning looks, “What? You said she needed more friends.” Pierre defended.
“She does, but preferably single friends. And not you.” Charles jested causing Pierre to clutch his pearls, “I’ll have you know, I’m a great friend, Charles.” Pierre gasped. Lando and Kika tittered at the duo, “I don’t see why I couldn’t introduce you to her. Are you coming with Lando?” Charles asked, looking to the Brit, “As much as I’d love to, I’m being called to the garage. I’ll meet her later though.” Lando offered, turning and walking off.
Charles led the way to the Ferrari garage with the couple trailing behind, “Hey, Y/n!” Charles greeted, giving the girl a tight hug, “Charlie! I’m so glad you invited me to come watch you race. I’ve missed you.” The girl said, returning the hug. “I’ve missed you too. There’s some people I want to introduce you to. This is my best friend and his girlfriend.” Charles let go of you and gestured to the couple behind him.
Pierre and Kika stepped forward with welcoming smiles, “Hello, I’m Pierre Gasly. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Pierre greeted, shaking her hand, “I’m Francisca Gomes, but you can call me Kika.” Kika introduced also holding out her hand. The beautiful woman gave them a smile and clasped their outstretched hand in both of her, shaking it in greeting starting with Pierre, “My name is Y/n L/n. It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Gasly and Ms. Gomes.” Y/n said.
“Oh? You don’t have to call us Ms and Mr. We can’t be that much older than you.” Pierre waved off the formalities, “I’m eighteen.” Y/n spoke.
“Oh.”
After a moment of still silence, Kika spoke up, “Well, I’m only a year older. Just call me Kika and him, Pierre. No need to be formal with us.” Kika said, “Oui, any friends of Charles is a friend of ours.” Pierre added.
“Well, I hope to become good friends with you.”
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It's been four long and beautiful years of friendship for the three since then, or, Y/n thought it was friendship. Kika and Pierre had fallen for the charm of the curly-haired beauty only a few months into the friendship. It took a bit of denial and acceptance for both, mostly on Kika's part since she's never been interested in another woman ever in her life, but the two eventually agreed that they would pursue the girl, but only after they tested out the waters.
After they were sure that they really wanted to be with her as more than friends, they began to fully pursue her. They flirted, they gifted her things, they joked, they laughed, they invited her on dates (that she didn't know were dates), and they were touchy. They were sure that Y/n would catch the hint and let them know whether she was comfortable with what they were doing or not, but there's one thing they didn't account for.
Y/n being completely unaware and oblivious of their intentions.
The girl knew so much about a lot of things, but not when people were flirting with her. And now it's been going on for three and a half years. They've given so many hints that literally everyone except Y/n knew that the couple were into her the way they were.
"Pierre, why don't you just tell her that you're into her?" Esteban asked, putting an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, "I'm not sure, but we agreed to not just spring it on her like that. We wanted to ease her into it, but does not getting the hint." Pierre sighed. "She's not going to get it unless you tell her. She's been like this all her life, which is why she never had a relationship before." Charles explained, "She's never been in a relationship? How? She's gorgeous." Pierre scoffed.
"Didn't you hear him, mate? It's because she's oblivious." Lando spoke up, joining the group who were standing in front of McLaren garage like a bunch of gossiping high schoolers. "What are we talking about?" Lewis asked as he and Carlos joined the group, "You know how Pierre and Kika are into Y/n? We were just asking him any they didn't just ask her out." Charles explained. Lewis and Carlos looked at Pierre, "So why don't you?" Carlos questioned, Pierre groaned, "Kika and I felt like we shouldn't just outright ask her. We didn't want to force it on her." Pierre said.
"She's never going to get it off you don't tell her." Lewis said, "That's what I said!" Charles exclaimed, fist bumping his future teammate. "We're planting to take her out after this weekend. We're going to spend time together in Italy and maybe vacation together of the girls aren't busy." Pierre sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
"Oooh, that's a great idea. Maybe get an accommodation with only one room and one bed so you all have to share." Lando offered teasingly, "That's not a bad idea actually." Pierre muttered. "Where are you thinking of going?" Oscar spoke up, "Probably Bali. Maybe we'll stay in Italy. We're not sure yet." Pierre answered.
Soon, the group dispersed to go to their drivers rooms to get ready for the race.
                  ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Y/n was honestly scared. She had always been openly {your sexuality} and proud about what she was into, but falling for two people at the same time? And two people who were happily together? She felt like a villain. She didn't want to accidentally break up a happy couple because she assumed that they'd be as interested in her as she is to them.
She distanced herself from Pierre and Kika, afraid she would get too attached to couple and accidentally make them uncomfortable with her attraction to them. She still went to the grand prix because she had friends she wanted to support, but instead of going to the Alpine garage like she usually would, she went to the Williams garage to support her favorite British Thai driver and give comfort to her favorite American while she was there. "I know this really isn't my place to ask, but why are you here?" Logan asked, putting the headphones over Y/n's ears for her.
"What do you mean? I'm here for you and Alex. Plus, Lily is here and I do love Lily." Y/n answered, "Love you too!" Lily called back walking up to the duo, "No, I mean, why are you here when you want to be with Kika in the Alpine garage?" Logan reiterated. Y/n sighed, "Because I feel like I'm getting too attached to them. They're a couple who are obviously in love." Y/n said, crossing her arms, "And? They love having you around them. You make them so happy and everyone sees it. I don't think that you being attached to them is a problem." Lily spoke up. "They have something great between them. I feel like if I stay around, I'll reveal how I feel and they'll get disgusted and force me stay away." Y/n ranted, playing with one of her bouncy curls.
Lily and Logan shared a wide-eyed look. They were glad that they had a bit of time before theso they could fully talk, "Y/n, are you...in love with them? Both of them?" Logan asked. Y/n began to sniffle, "Yes! I know it's disgusting and greedy of me to not only want both of them, but to want people who are already happily in love. I know I'm a disgusting creature who doesn't deserve to live for loving someone that I was not intended to love." Y/n cried softly. Lily pulled Y/n into their arms, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's neck, "Oh, honey. It's not disgusting at all. I don't know who told you any of that, but no one has any right to tell you that you're disgusting for loving who you want to love." Lily cooed, wiping away your tears.
"Are things alright over here? Are you alright, Y/n?" James questioned, "Did you hear what we were talking about?" Logan questioned, "Admittedly, I did and I'm here to say Lily is right. Your family cannot may be your blood, but if they do not accept you for who you are and love you despite what you love, they cannot be considered family. No one has any right to tell you that you are going to die and go to hell for loving who you want to love." James comforted. "Plus, you don't need them. You have us. Logan, me, Alex, and even James. You have the Leclerc family and Kika and Pierre. We all love you for you." James reassured, "Don't push Kika and Pierre away. They care for you deeply. If you really are worried, maybe you should talk to them about it." Logan suggested.
Y/n dried their eyes off completely and took off her headphones, "I'm going to the bathroom." Y/n muttered, gently pushing past them and made her way to the Alpine garage. They were right. She can't let her family and their ideology keep her from loving who she wanted to love. She wouldn't be telling the couple about her feelings, but she would no longer be pushing them away like she was. Taking a deep breath, Y/n entered the garage and stopped next to the couple who were engrossed in a conversation, "Uh, hey." Y/n spoke up.
The couple practically break their necks turning to look the girl, "Minha linda! We were just talking about you." Kika gasped happily, throwing her arms around Y/n's neck, "We were afraid that you were running away from us. We missed you, mon bijou." Pierre joined the pseudo hug and planting a kiss on the top of her head. Esteban and Flavy watched from the sidelines, wondering how in the world Y/n just thought that these actions were nothing but platonic when it was clear that they were utterly down bad for the girl with sepia skin and thick ringlets of curls just as she was for them, "I wish they would just get together." Flavy whispered, "For real. It was cute at first, but now it's kind of sad." Esteban agreed.
"I'm sorry. I just needed some time to take care of something and now I'm here to wish you good luck." Y/n smiled up at the Frenchman, "Help me put on my helmet?" Pierre asked the girls. Kika helped him put on his balaclava before stepping back so Y/n could put the helmet on Pierre's head. "Good luck." Y/n said, patting the part of the helmet where his cheek would be and turning to walk, but before she could exit the garage, Kika pulled her back, "No good luck kiss?" Pierre  asked, which confused Y/n as they had never asked for one before. Y/n shrugged, thinking nothing of it as she had kissed the cheeks of her other friends before.
Y/n saddled up next to Pierre and planted a kiss on his helmet where his cheek would be, "Good luck out there. Do your best." Y/n repeated before turning to Kika and planting a kiss on her cheek while she had the moment of bravery. "See you guys later." Y/n turned away, walking out of the garage before she busted into a ball of flames from the amount of embarrassment she was feeling.
Kika and Pierre were just watching the girl as she left with love-struck gazes, "We have to make her ours or I'll die." Kika dramatically sighed, "I agree. She drives me crazy and she doesn't even know what's she's doing." Pierre agreed with Kika nodding in agreement
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Y/n was confused and conflicted.
Y/n had been offered to come to Italy by Kika and Pierre after the GP was over as they had rented a little place on the beach for them to stay at while on vacation. She, of course, accepted the invite because she had never really been to Italy despite being all over the world. She wanted to take some time to relax and spend time with the ones she really cared for. What better way to spend the next week and a half or so before she gets gray hair during the next race.
But one thing she had not expected was the beach hut thing to have only one bed, “So we’re all sharing this one bed? Are you sure that you’re comfortable with this?” Y/n asked, looking at the bed. “Yeah, it was this or our house and we weren’t sure whether you were comfortable with that or not.” Kika explained, putting her bag down. “Where’s Pierre?” Y/n asked, “He has a couple things to do, so for right now, it’s just you and me for right now. Exciting, yeah?” Kika asked excitedly.
“Yeah, that’s great!” Y/n agreed,
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Pierre arrived at the little beach house and entered with a sigh. He had so much to do that day, he missed spending time with his girls, but at least he’d have the next day with them. Kika had posted photos of them playing in the water and Pierre couldn’t help but feel pride at how many people were asking whether he could fight and whining about how he could pull two baddies while they couldn’t even get a text back.
Pierre unlocked the door and put his suitcase to the side and walked into the room to see Kika curled up in Y/n’s arms. Pierre’s heart raced at the sight of the two people he loved being so close together and he couldn’t wait for Y/n to actually be theirs. Pierre took a quick shower and changed into his pajamas, climbing into the bed behind Y/n and cuddling up to her.
It was the best night’s sleep the three of them had ever gotten.
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tartilli · 2 days
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wrio, neuvi, nd haitham w a gn!reader who has like the most angelic awooga voice and looks ever but has such an unhinged personality that it removes from the prior facts🧍. this is not a rq this is a demand
G/N!Reader x Wriothesley / Neuvillette / Alhaitham
can be read as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer, really :)
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a/n: HELLO HI MILLIE i'm so sorry this took so long(i've been taking my finals) but i finally finished it!!!
this is my first time answering a request so i hope this is to your liking, there's mild swearing so proceed with caution if that isn't your thing
also i had no idea how to write any of the characters you mentioned so i had to study their characters and read fics centered around them
i wasn't entirely sure what format you wanted(bullet headcanons form or fic form) so i kind of went for a mix of both, if that's okay
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WRIOTHESLEY(i learned how to spell his name right just for this)
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when he first hears your voice, he is, to put it simply, taken a back.
if he's being honest, you're pretty good looking, but not exceptionally so(and it certainly doesn't help that you're in fontaine of all places).
so it comes as a surprise when you open your mouth, and the most heavenly sound wriothesley's ever heard, emerges from it.
it takes him several seconds to process it.
when he finally regains his composure, he shakes it off as just another new interesting thing in his life.
it soon becomes apparent, though, that the archons themselves unleashed you onto teyvat with the intent of bringing chaos to the land.
the two of you are playing tgc in his office, everything is going great(he's mostly winning) until you put down your deck, a serious expression on your face.
"wriothesley, i swear to the archons, if you win another game, i will shit on my first born."
okay what. just, what the actual fuck-
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NEUVILETTE
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being known as the aloof and serious ludex of fontaine, neuvilette has never been one for idle chat(really, it's moreso the fact that he's poor at it rather than any actual distaste for the thing).
so when he hears your voice for the first time, he thinks it notable, but decides not to comment.
however, as the two of you begin to spend more and more time together, he muses that hmm maybe he should mention it. so he does.
he doesn't want you thinking that he doesn't like your voice because he does! really, he does.
it soothes him, reminding him of the the soft gurgling sounds made by the waters of a river as waves rush past or the melodic sound of dewdrops falling off a leaf the morning after he finishes crying.
in short: neuvilette really likes your voice
but he's also incredibly concerned for its owner
the two of you will be walking around fontaine, enjoying eachother's company and discussing a confidential topic that neuvillette is privy to information concerning, you'll turn to him and say with the most casual expression on your face:
"if you tell me, i promise to give you each of my toes."
just when neuvillette thinks that he's beginning to understand humanity, he's proven wrong.
when he relays this to you, you only laugh.
privately, he's already compiled a list of all the best therapists in teyvat.
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ALHAITHAM
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"you have a unique voice."
that's the first thing he says upon meeting you.
well, at least he cut to the chase?
it's a secret to no one that alhaitham finds your voice amusing.
he'll often introduce you to new people just to see the shock on their faces when you make, what he likes to call, one of your statements.
he, himself, was a victim of one.
he'd been reading a book about the mortal body and its parts- fascinating stuff, really, when you walked up to him.
with the straightest face in all of teyvat, in your silky, angel-like voice, you uttered the sentence:
"only cool people don't have reproductive organs."
you proceeded to skip away as if you'd said nothing to him at all.
alhaitham was left bewildered(and a bit impressed).
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AAAA it's done
if it's bad it's probably because i was too tired to proofread 😞 but hopefully this isn't too ooc
i don't really like this one as it doesn't really display my personal writing style distinctively enough, i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, though!
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beesorcery · 1 day
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hello it's part 3 of 3 for my cool fun graphic design adventure!! part 1 and part 2 got too long. to recap i am recreating this t-shirt design but with the magic 8 ball songs instead of city names:
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here is the current draft, updated through 3/27 (pittsburgh) (!!!!)
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more Firelined propaganda, because I love them. as always, Firefight is owned by @remedyturtles
for the @tmntaucompetition
-----
Somehow, their teammates are stable. As far as Donnie can tell, this is pretty lucky, given the shape they were in. The other Leo still hasn't come out of his shell, though, eerily silent where he's cradled in the other Donnie's arms. He hasn't wanted to let go, even since they moved the both of them to a cot, and Donnie can't blame him.
There'd been some more running around, some more efforts to get them treated and comfortable, over the course of the last few hours. And now Donnie is pretty sure it's late (or he's experiencing some kind of interdimensional jetlag), and everyone but him is asleep. They'd found another cot and forced Leo, shaking and clearly low on energy reserves, into it; he'd fussed and insisted he wasn't tired, but the moment his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep. It was a little funny - the kind of thing they could chuckle about now, so many months into Leo's recovery. Raph had slumped against the wall and Mikey had climbed into his lap to nap there.
Donnie had promised them he'd join them soon enough. But so far he hasn't moved from his chair by their teammates' cot, typing away on his wrist tech and occasionally asking Shelldon to run some calculations for him.
At least, Donnie thought he was the only one awake, but the longer he sits there, the more he starts to feel the telltale prickle of someone watching him. His eyes rise from his screens and meet the gaze of the other Donnie, awake and observing him from the cot.
He lowers his wrist and gives a little wave of his fingers to the other Donnie. "Do you need more painkillers?" he asks quietly.
(He really needs a distinct designation for their counterparts. He remembers Leo floating the names "Leonother" and "Donatwollo" and shudders. For now, he decides to mentally refer to them as Donnie-β and Leo-β.)
Donnie-β shakes his head. His eyes float beyond Donnie, to where Leo is asleep in his cot. He points and makes a sign that Donnie assumes is his name sign for Leo-β (different from the name sign for his Leo, which is interesting), then waits to see if Donnie understands. At his nod, Donnie-β proceeds to sign, "Sleep, how?" as best as he can under the circumstances.
Donnie lets out a huff that's almost a laugh. "I'm guessing your Leo also suffers from insomnia?" Donnie-β nods. "As it turns out, chronic fatigue is a surprisingly effective cure." Donnie turns back and glances at Leo, sleeping away. "Usually, anyway..."
There are sometimes days Leo suffers from both, too tired to move but unable to sleep. He's always especially emotional on days like that, and Donnie knows he hates it, so he's glad Leo's brain is letting him sleep tonight.
When he looks back, Donnie-β has a complicated expression on his face that Donnie doesn't know how to begin to unpack. After several awkward seconds of silence, Donnie-β signs again, just, "How?" this time.
"How was he hurt?" Donnie clarifies, and Donnie-β nods again. "It was... the Dark Armor. Draxum put him inside." At the wide-eyed look of horror on Donnie-β's face, Donnie comes to the conclusion, "That didn't happen in your timeline, did it?"
Donnie-β shakes his head. It's not a surprise, at this point.
"It seems to be a unique event to our timeline, at least insofar as those assembled here are concerned," says Donnie, flipping through screens to bring up the research he's done on the alternate timelines here. "So far I know of one other timeline where Leo was put inside the armor, but their circumstances are substantially different from ours." He looks back at their teammates, taking in their substantial injuries, then asks, quietly, "This wasn't the Shredder, was it?"
Tired, Donnie-β shakes his head. Then, with a trembling hand, he fingerspells, "Krang."
"We've heard of them," Donnie tells him. "In other universes... Well, it seems like no one got off particularly easily."
It takes some fumbling from his position, but Donnie-β manages to sign, "Maybe not you," indicating the entire group when he does.
Donnie just shakes his head. "We aren't any more lucky than you guys," he says, which makes Donnie-β's mouth twitch in a motion that is at once humorous and grim.
Another few minutes of silence follows, during which Donnie goes back to looking at his screens, mostly to give Donnie-β the illusion of space. He can tell Donnie-β is thinking something over and trying to decide if he wants to bring it up (pretty weird to see that thought process play out on a mirror of his own face, actually), and he also knows it will be easier for him to come to a decision if he's not being stared at.
Finally, Donnie-β motions for his attention, and, once he has it, signs out, "Was it bad?" before indicating that he's talking about Leo. "Mentally, emotionally," he adds.
Donnie grimaces. Ah, no wonder he debated over saying anything... This isn't a topic Donnie is eager to discuss, either. But he has a feeling Donnie-β must have a reason for asking, so he's willing to talk. A little, anyway.
"Yes," he says. And then, because saying it all out loud is starting to feel dangerous, he turns off his wrist tech and switches to modified ASL (luckily, other than the name signs, Donnie-β's version has been close enough for him to follow so far). "It was bad."
Donnie-β looks at Leo, hesitancy written all over his expression. "Can you tell me?" he finally signs, with shaky hands, like he's not sure he wants to know about it but has to ask.
Donnie hesitates, too. Talking about his brother's mental health issues to other people without Leo's permission is a line he would not normally cross. Leo deserves to control who has that kind of information about him, and in what circumstances they're told. In this situation, he doesn't think Leo would mind, but still...
He decides on a compromise. "I can tell you how it was for me."
Perhaps Donnie-β understands the thought process that led here, because he nods and doesn't press for more.
Donnie takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. Thinking about that time, at the beginning of Leo's recovery, is stressful and comes with no small amount of shame. But he can do it, if it will help someone else with their own troubles.
"He was struggling," Donnie signs, because that much he knows is safe to tell, "and I didn't understand. I pushed too hard. I needed him to heal on my timeline. I wanted things to be normal. I wanted to go back to how it was before."
He chews on his lip, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I was scared. I felt like I was losing someone. I wanted my Leo," he uses his own name sign for Leo, then points to be sure Donnie-β knows who he means, "back. I wasn't ready to accept I wasn't getting him back."
Donnie-β's face seemed to drain of color, and he hugged Leo-β to his chest ever tighter. Donnie could only imagine what was going though his counterpart's head.
"Mikey," he fingerspells the name for Donnie-β's benefit, "said I was in mourning." He shrugs exaggeratedly - not because he doesn't believe Mikey, but because feelings have never been his area of expertise. "And that was okay. But I needed to love Leo where he is now."
He glances back at his brother, still sleeping soundly. He feels his heart swell when he does - that part, at least, had been easy.
"Leo is different now. And I love him." Donnie makes the sign for "love" extra exaggerated, to add as much emphasis as he can. "Who he is now. As much. More." He glances over his shoulder again and smiles at Leo.
Donnie-β listens. He puts his chin on Leo-β's shell, tapping out the same message to him again.
"...Scared," he rasps out loud, and his voice barely works; Donnie has to lean in to hear. But Donnie-β seems unwilling now to take his hands off Leo-β. "Of losing him for good."
Donnie's own stomach drops at the idea. He gives his head a firm shake, like that will banish it entirely, for both of them.
"You won't," he says. "You'll save him."
Donnie-β looks hauntingly unsure. "How do you know?" he whispers.
"Because you're Donatello Hamato," says Donnie fiercely, "and you can do anything."
Donnie-β doesn't smile, or laugh, or react in any way a Donnie might normally. Donnie supposes that Leo-β isn't the only one who's going to be different now.
But he nods, seriously, his hand keeping up the gently taps on Leo-β's shell.
"Wouldn't want... to give Donnies a bad name," he murmurs.
"That's right," says Donnie, a sigh in his voice. "And - not to sound like Raph here - but maybe you should start by getting some rest yourself."
Donnie-β lets out a noise that is close enough to an annoyed huff it makes Donnie smile.
"If anything happens-"
"We'll wake you. Don't worry."
A nod. Donnie-β's eyelids droop.
He's asleep soon, curled around Leo-β's shell even in slumber. Donnie makes sure the blankets are tucked firmly around both of them, then stretches.
"Shelldon, wake me if anything changes."
"Sure thing, dude."
Donnie looks at Raph and Mikey's mini-turtle pile, then turns back to Leo's cot. It's not really big enough for two, but without his battle shell Donnie is pretty sure he can make it work.
He tucks himself in behind Leo. Leo makes a soft noise in his sleep, turning over and curling into Donnie instinctively.
Donnie would never want anyone else for a Leo. He knows Donnie-β feels the same about Leo-β. And that's why Donnie can rest - believing, eventually, they would be okay.
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Text
Aurorise | ateez x reader
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Pairing: prince!ateez x dancer!reader
Genre: royalty, historical fiction, poly, adventure
Word Count: 2278 words
Summary: The story of how you, a dancer, upheaved an entire monarchy all by falling in love with eight princes.
a/n: and so it begins... :)
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Chapter 2
Royal betrothals took place on the night of the Spring Equinox. Five years ago, when your cousin became engaged to Prince Chan, you left the village to pursue the dance group with your close-knit group of friends — Hoshi, Woozi, Hoseok, Moonbyul and Sakura.
As soon as daybreak arrived, the village was already stirring with frenzied movement and bustling commotion. The villagers excitedly and animatedly rushed about, chattering amongst themselves of who might become the Princes’ royal consort. And when the sun began to descend upon the horizon and night crept in, everyone hurriedly gathered in their designated spots in the palace courtyard, awaiting the verdict.
In your Kingdom, not only nobles participated in this event, but also families whose parents either worked in the royal army or the royal court. Your father was the Head of the Royal Guard alongside his brother who was his Second in Command. They bravely and fearlessly defended the Kingdom from opposing forces. However, after a failed and near disastrous peace treaty alliance, he left the position and opened a practice academy to help young men who were interested in joining the royal army when they came of age to prepare themselves. 
Your father’s dedication to the royal army even after resigning his post pleased the King and so, the royal treasury funded your father’s academy. This led to your family remaining in good graces with the royal family even if your Father and the King were no longer close as before, but it did fracture your relationships with the villagers, who were profusely calling and beseeching for financial aid to no avail.
As a result, if there was one thing the villagers delighted in more than anything, was the possibility of seeing your family embarrassed and humiliated by the royal family. All eyes were on you since your older sister had married the son of one of your father’s colleagues, and there were no princesses in the royal family for your brother to court.
The betrothal was to determine the future partners of Prince Chan and Prince Seonghwa and you were of age to participate but, in contrast your cousin, ho everyone knew had prepared her whole life for this moment and was the epitome in your family as the perfect candidate, you were a wildcard - a free-spirit who revelled in the spontaneity of life and never took a lesson on royal etiquette. 
The odds of you being selected was very low, and the idea of being rejected with all eyes watching felt like a sweet revenge for the villagers.
But you didn’t attend the betrothal. After a heated argument with your father about being a hopeless case and nothing like your cousin, you left that night with your friends. 
You never knew what happened.
-
And during a time like this, after your past history of foregoing the betrothals, being an overthinker did not help your situation. Gazing outside from your window, you were lost deep in thought, your mind preoccupied and racing back and forth. 
After registering Prince’s San actions, with a flustered expression - your mind boggled by his radiant smile and your racing heart, you arose from your spot, bowed to the King signalling your respect and then scampered out of the courtyard. Racing hurriedly through the village’s path, you dashed straight into your family’s home and into your room, locking the door. 
The news had rapidly spread like a wildfire and reached the ears of your father who was not pleased.
“You have to marry him Y/N.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Father, Prince San likes to play games. I’m not going to marry him.”
Your Father frustratingly massages his temples as he responds, “It’s just like before isn’t it? You’re going to only think about yourself and not about your family’s reputation.”
“Father,” you stress irritatedly, “The villagers already disliked us after the royal treasurer disclosed that the royal treasury will fund your school while their calls for help were ignored. They’ve been waiting for us to mess up one way or another. It doesn’t matter if I marry Prince San, they’ll find some way to twist it and make us look bad.”
“It does matter Y/N, let them know that the monarchy is on our side! That the King stands with us!”
“Are you not listening, Father? No one cares about a dysfunctional and corrupted monarchy, the only reason they don’t leave is because no Kingdom will give them an easy time for relocating in their jurisdiction.”
“Well maybe if you had attended the betrothal, we could’ve silenced them once and for all. But no, you only think about yourself. You’re not like your cousin.”
Tiredly you rub your forehead and place your face in your palms, trying to maintain your composure in front of your Father. Frustration and irritation are coiling inside you, ready to erupt like a volcano.
“Enough!” your Mother yells, “Y/N go to your room and try to relax and you, go make yourself useful for me and buy some groceries. Don’t come back until you get everything on that list!”
After the confrontation you stayed in your room, and for the last few hours, you continuously paced back and forth like a maniac, racking your brain to make sense of what occurred. The veil was still in your possession and sprawled across your bed, seemingly mocking you. You couldn’t even spare a glance, lest you started panicking again.
Any attempts at sleeping off the uneasiness failed as the moment you began to doze off, your brain decided to resurface the events and you jolted awake in anxiousness and worry. Now, you stared at the village intently, planning your next course of action. You concluded to not venture out of your room until it was time to leave with the group. If it was up to you, you all would have been on your way by tomorrow morning. 
Unfortunately, you all had decided to stay for at least a week - therefore, you wouldn’t be leaving your room until next Wednesday.
Hoshi arrived later in the evening to check in and update you on the recent gossip.
“Yeah you’re the talk of the town.” he expressed nonchalantly while munching on some warm buttered bread courtesy your Mother. 
“That makes me feel so much better Hoshi, thank you.” you responded sarcastically.
He narrowed his eyes at you before flinging the veil at you in retaliation. You caught it, and proceeded to batter him with it.
“Hey!” he cried, “You’ll make me drop my bread! Stooooop!”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” you asked out of breath, “Not your best friend being emotionally distressed right now!?”
After blocking your blows and stuffing the bread into his mouth, he captured you in a hug and began to pet your hair as an attempt to calm you down. You thrashed around a bit to continue your mayhem but gave up knowing that Hoshi is stronger than you.
“Relax,” he assured, continuing to stroke the middle of your head, “It’s only because all the girls are jealous that you’re the one who managed to single handedly and easily catch the eyes of the Prince. And their parents are even more envious, which is typical of them.”
“Yes but…”
“Remember when we first left to pursue the group? The Aunty who runs the fruit stall had so much to say about us! Now look, she was telling my mom the other day how she knew we were going to be successful and that she always had faith in us. A huge hypocrite! She’s lucky I’m afraid of my mother otherwise I’d tell her about her annoying kids and how rotten she is just like the fruit she tries to sell.”
Chuckling at Hoshi’s spiel, you remove yourself calmly from his embrace and turn to him.
“And your point is?”
“People will talk no matter what. They have nothing better to do and their opinion of you isn’t true. While I can understand their distress of being ignored by the King, for them to put the brunt of it on you is unfair and uncalled for. Just lay low until we leave.”
“Well that’s the plan but I wish it was that easy,” you dejectedly replied, “My father is disappointed again. I’m a huge disappointment to him again just like last time. He cares more about the monarchy than me.”
Hoshi squints his eyes and grabs you in another hug.
“Ack!”
“As much as I respect your Father,” he begins, “I don’t like the way he talks to you. But just know that you don’t have to be like your cousin, she’s on her own path and so are you. Hopefully your Father sees that one day and if not, we can ask our moms to rally up their groups and chase him and my Father throughout the village. I don’t know why they are so obsessed with the King.”
He frees you from his hold and holds your shoulders and smiles.
“It’s not like anything else will happen.”
“Y/N! Y/N!” your sister screams frantically, “The King is on his way here!”
You shoot up from your position, your eyes filling with fear as the anxiousness and nervousness returning and descending like a huge crashing wave. Sadly, Hoshi didn’t make you feel better.
“Hm, I stand corrected,” he commented.
Meanwhile, your Father puffs his chest proudly as he waits outside the gate. When the Royal Messenger appeared and announced the King’s arrival, your Father left all the groceries he was supposed to return with and rushed back. As the carriage pulls to a stop in front of him, he is already bowing as the King descends and saunters ahead while the villagers who are present whisper amongst themselves.
The King sits in a plush and cushioned satin chair that is your Father’s favourite and scrutinises the living room while your Father stoops in front of him.
“It’s been a while Y/L/N,” the King articulate curtly, “The last time we convened was at the betrothal.”
“It’s been long overdue to have you at my home, Your Majesty,” your Father responds, “It’s an absolute pleasure to have you grace us with your presence.”
 Hoshi judges your Father beside you while snacking on another slice of buttered bread. Behind the wall that separates the living room and the kitchen, a small group consisting of you, Hoshi, your older siblings and your mother are huddled together trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.
The King settles himself more comfortably into the chair before continuing, “Your daughter neither attending nor participating in the betrothal is very surprising. Adding on to the fact that she’s a part of the most famous dance group throughout the lands yet, they never performed here until today. Most of them are from this village too, no?”
Unsure and shyly your Father explains, “What can I say your Majesty? Y/N is a free-spirit, she doesn’t listen to me and likes to do her own thing. I wanted her to attend the betrothal but she chose to pursue dance instead. And I told her that they should have their first performance here! But kids think they know better than their elders.”
Your mother shakes her head in disapproval and you peer judgingly as you hear your Father’s remarks. 
“Liar.” you mutter.
“She’s not like her cousin.” 
You roll your eyes at your Father but you can’t ignore the pang of hurt that flashes through you. If there’s one thing currently whirring in your mind, albeit it might sound selfish, it was that you shouldn’t have returned home. You should’ve stayed where you were.
“Well,” the King begins, “I am here because my son has requested my permission to marry your daughter.”
“Excuse me!?” you exclaim
Your family gasps and the Royal Messenger sideyes the kitchen, but it goes unnoticed by the King. Your mind spins feverishly and adrenaline shoots through your body upon this revelation. In a hushed tone, Hoshi shushes you and places a hand over your mouth to stop you from blowing your cover.
While all of you are flabbergasted and in shock, your Father beams excitedly and deeply bows to the King.
“Yes your Majesty! Of course we accept your proposal for Y/N to Prince San. What happened earlier spread very quickly across the village. And as her Father I was worried for her reputation. But now knowing this—“
“Not Prince San.” The King proclaims.
Your father stammers in confusion, unsure how to respond. Meanwhile, your heart rate accelerates and you turn to your Mother with worried eyes. She’s mirroring the same expression back to you. 
“Then…to who?”
“As per his request to me,” the King announces, “Y/N will marry my son, Prince Seonghwa, who is second in line for the throne.”
-
When it was revealed that you would not be in attendance, the villagers began to gossip that you bowed out early because you knew you were never going to be selected.
“I’m not surprised,” The Fruit Lady chides, “At least she has the common sense to know she’s not fit to become a wife to a prince. Then again, she and that rag-tag group wants to become dancers, so she probably used up all the common sense she had.”
The other villagers laugh and join in ridiculing you before making guesses about who might be selected. Once it wasn’t you, they didn’t care who it might be. But to their utter shock and surprise, after Prince Chan’s proposal to your cousin, Prince Seonghwa steps forward and declares unapologetically.
“I withdraw myself from this bethroment. I will not be proposing to anyone tonight.”
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Taglist: @chngbnwf
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0daylighthours0 · 3 days
Text
A Deep Dive into Milkvan and Byler's Development: If Milkvan Was Endgame All Along, Why Was it Written Like This???
SO. I've been rewatching st with my mother, who's never seen it before. And she was a fan of milkvan throughout seasons 1 and 2. Viewing those seasons again I could see why, they're cute. However, come season 3 and INSTANT distaste. And, listen, my mother is not the consciously shipping gal. She simply routes for main character pairings as writers intend, doesn't read between the lines, doesn't nothing. And she does NOT know my own opinions on the pairing. In other words, completely unbiased, uninternet drama influenced eyes. We've now reached season 3 and, after getting through a chunk of it, I asked her,
"so what do you think of Mike and El?"
and she expressed to me that they seem to be, quote:
"not very good together."
She said El's character doesn't suit the way she's acting now (in the first few episodes, concerning Mike), that Mike is more likeable and interesting when he's away from her. She doesn't like the way they ditched the party, and when it comes to their 'making out' the scenes are seen by her from Hopper's perspective (in other words, distasteful). She claimed that they'd be much better characters as friends.
And ya know what, she's right. And I mean like - duh, that's what we've been saying all this time, I'm not stating anything new here. But guys, wouldn't it be strange if the central couple of the show, pivotal that it is liked by audiences and is rooted for by them as they are THE pair, would be so dislikable like this? So uninteresting, so cliche.
I mean, okay, let's do a little mental experiment I like to do to test if I'm not just acting delulu. Let's play a game. In this game, milkvan ARE meant to be endgame. They are in love, they were all along, and they're here to draw in viewers and appease all El stans. Now, seasons 1 and 2 their relationship is honestly fine. Surface level, yeah, people will watch and appreciate them. They perfectly blend in with all the other neat pairings of the seasons, and have their own unique character traits to stand out as a main couple.
Just pretending our mate Will doesn't exist, we now get into season 3. Now, writers have nothing to lose here. If you've finished season 2, you probably like milkvan already. The issue is that they're already together now, so what's the conflict going to be? The arc? And every central couple needs that conflict to stay juicy.
Just take a look:
Jancy: quarrels, struggle to understand one another
Jopper: not yet together, one sided? will they won't they
Lumax: ...
Lumax? Lumax. Huh, guess they were simply together. Some loveable bickering, maintained a friendly dynamic while clearly in closer proximity. Well then, writers can do the same for milkvan right? Well, yes easily. But one might argue that since they are supposed to be THE pairing they need more going on between them than that. So what'll it be? Well, it seems that writers thought,
"hey, why not break them up?"
ok so.. that's a bit risky. I mean you want people to like this ship, if you break them up then that threats: 1. there being a disliking to one or both characters, 2. coming off generic if done incorrectly, 3. the break up might make no sense considering how in love they came off as just a season ago. But hey.. it could work, if done right. Some kind of misunderstanding, similar to Jancy. Maybe an argument leading to a sudden parting. I mean, yeah, Yeah! I can see that. Perhaps Mike is being too overprotective whilst El's trying to sacrifice herself for something, so she NEEDS to separate herself from him attempting to hurt him less. Or, I dunno, something akin. What's crucial is that us, AS THE AUDIENCE, still know them to be deeply in love. I mean, we have to still want them to be together. And we've seen couple trouble before. Just take a look at Lumax season 4 - did you or did you not want the best for both of them as a pair? You most likely did. See, it's doable. So did people like milkvan season 3 the same way, even after a separation plot? No.
Okay well, there are obviously those who'll always love milkvan no matter but, see, season 3 tainted it. "We need to write them like this cause it's more realistic to teenager behavior" my ars. You can make it messy without making it icky. Not only did it sour their unique dynamic, it flabbergastingly stomped on Mike as a character.
Honestly, I feel Mike has always been a mild struggle to write. Season 1 his motivations were 'find Will' (who still doesn't exist in our mind game yet shh) and 'protect El'. This worked well for him. Afterwards though, El and Will became more separate plots to him. But as a main character it remained integral that he be closely linked to them somehow. This sets him apart from Lucas and Dustin, who can easily be given any arc any season as their plots have the flexibility of a side quest nature. Since what Mike does is meant to matter more - with there probably being a better way of phrasing that but you know what I mean - it's harder knowing what he'll do when El and Will (who we'll GET to sh.) are their own separate people. And Mike is just a boy, he doesn't have super powers and he isn't a cop, which leaves there even less for him to do which is of significance. Season 2 writers decided upon having him support Will's arc, making himself of enough relevance by being able to take credit for some Will development in the story, and the plots that surrounded that, and then Mike was thrown a little bone by being the one to come up with the idea of burning those vines in the finale.
Truthfully, you don't really remember Mike's deeds much when reminiscing the series. It isn't like Dustin who's bond with Dart sticks to everyone, or Nancy and Jonathan responsible for kicking out Hawkins Lab. This is due to them, again, being able to traverse all sorts of adventures without limits. But my guy Mike can't do dat. Sadly, this kind of leads to him coming of as a little.. well... insignificant. And I know I know, the Mike truthers are gonna come at my throat. And hey! I love him too. I only want the best for my boy.
This makes season 3 a unique case cause it seems that, for the plot they decided they wanted, writers actually had to almost entirely change his character. I mean mate s2 Mike and s3 Mike are two different peoples, don't even. And I don't believe that the Duffers had their story and character turnouts completely drawn out from the very start at all. If I was to guess, I'd assume they have vague ideas of little plots they plan to include in future, but there is definitely a lot that has come unpredicted or changed throughout st's runtime. And one of those phenomenons are Michael Wheeler. So they decided to make this guy a di-
So they decided to make him more douchy, more movie typical teenage guy. It's not as if he wholly sucked, he didn't, but he didn't really do much. Whined about his girlfriend, separated the party. I mean what even was his arc? (UnLESS–)
You see, if milkvan is written to be loved, then season 3 was strike one. All of its charm was stripped away. It seems they had some cute scenes after their reconciliation, but it's not enough. It's just sort of
"oh, ok, so they're happy with eachother now. yayy."
and Stranger Things should want to be anything but boring. Sure they often enjoy indulging in tropes, but they always do something different with them. Something standoutish. And from this point on milkvan just got dull. Either writers ran out of ideas or lost interest, honestly (still with our mind game of telling ourselves they're meant to be).
But it's okay. Look, so season 3 was a bit rocky, maybe lost a couple of fans for the guys, but it is salvageable. Easily, easily. Looks like we want a plot of Mike struggling to tell El he loves her. Great! Much to work with.
So let's get into it. Season 4! Choices were... made. And, okay, now we can't go any further without bringing in our boy Will.
Mike is intrinsically tied to Will and El and has been from the start. Maybe Will was more of an accident. Maybe s1 Will was just a plot device for Mike, then s2 Will was a plot device again and Mike needed to be there as the main boy character. Come season 3 and it seems their relationship still matters. Will was sidelined - hard - so most of Mike's moments revolved around El. But as his bond with Mike is the only that's been properly built up, that's the only friend we'll get him interacting with in a way that matters. So the Mike and Will tie continues!
But that does not have to be the case for season 4. Now the writers have a chance.
They made Will gay.
Ok so.. ok so yeah that's fine. Yeah! I mean they didn't have to do that, might put them in hot water with the bylers since milkvan is their golden beauty but.. you know what no no that's okay. He's been hinted at being queer since episode 1, why not make it canon! Cool that works. Explore that, especially since we now have Vecna who can easily target Will for this. Give him a boyfriend! Or a guy crush. He's at a new school now? That's cool. Maybe we can explore some new male character Will's taken interest in. Hey maybe he meets someone who interests him which rises to surface his whole sexuality plot and-
he's in love with Mike.
Ok. No. No. What are you doing? What do you mean?? You didn't have to do that. Strike- strike EFING TWO mates! Strike. 👏 efing. 👏 2!
This was part 1. I am tired and gots to get my ars in bed. But ohohoh, do not worry. I am just getting started.
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kana-daydreams · 10 hours
Text
𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 || 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨
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summary: Satoru comes home to see you wearing his blindfold. genre: fluff cw: none? Just some affectionate smooching. wc: 1.8k
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With arms and legs sprawled out like a lifeless starfish across the plush cream carpet of Satoru’s bedroom, an audible sigh sounds past your lips at a pestering memory that has been swimming through your mind for the last couple of days.
“You guys have been dating for how long now?”
Outside at a frequented cafe front, shaded under its thick green awning from the heat of the summer sun, you peered across at Shoko who sat in the seat opposite your own with a cigarette tucked between her fingers. 
Both of you were on a short lunch break, relieving yourselves of the taxing demands of your jobs as Jujutsu High’s only two proficient healers. 
 “…a month.” Your answer came out in a  timid reply and sounded more like a question as you hid your embarrassed expression behind your extra large cup of iced coffee.
Shoko hummed and you watched as she took a long drag of her cigarette that burned away inches near the butt, a puff of smoke exhaling past her lips. 
“Known each other for five years—been dating for a month,” she muses. “And still, he hasn’t made a move?”
You winced at her words. “No. He hasn’t.” You averted your eyes, confirming the disappointing reality that you and your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, were yet to explore any forms of romantic intimacy beyond that of  hugs and chaste kisses.
“You’re going over to his place this weekend, right?” 
You direct your attention back at Shoko. “Yeah…”
“Then shoot your shot.” Shoko stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray in front of her.
Your brows wrinkled at her words. “Huh?”
“Make the first move.” She clarified and was not surprised when she watched you with tired eyes instantly blurted out the words “Impossible! Never! No!” in one breath, loud enough to garner the attention of the cafe’s other patrons around you.
The embarrassing moment as you recall it, makes your face warm, especially at your friend’s suggestion — ‘Make the first move.’
An action you didn’t think yourself capable of doing unless you were willing to die from a massive heart attack. 
But still.
You wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss your boyfriend. 
What it would feel like to have Satoru’s lips pressed against yours.
And what he would taste like.  
Sweet, maybe?
You trace the tip of a finger absentmindedly along your lower lip, and when you realise you’re acting like a perverted old man (well woman in your case), you release a frustrated kind of cry.
You pull yourself to sit up, shaking your head to stop yourself from thinking too much about your dilemma. And decide to distract yourself until Satoru gets back from the short-noticed mission he’d left your cuddle session to attend to.
Momentarily, your endeavour leads you to seek interest near a dresser tucked away near one corner of the room. 
The large mirror above it captures the reflection of a woman attired in an oversized Tee and pyjama pants donning a strip of black cloth tied loosely around the upper half of her face, while her swagger-like poses mirrors your own. 
Snap!
Snap!
Your phone snaps a few times and after a couple more snaps, you raise the blindfold you adorn a bit to look at your work. “I can’t wait to send these to Toru.” You scroll through the ton of pictures you’ve just taken, giggling at the reaction Satoru would pull when he sees them.
“Maybe I should do a video?” You muse before acting on the thought as you reattach your phone to the tripod on the dresser, tap the record button, and pull down your—Satoru’s blindfold.
You then arrange your body in a pose dripping with arrogance and confidence—and of course a lot of rizz. And commence your act when the timer runs down.
 “I. am. the strongest!” You attempt to say in a deep voice but fail.
You stop the video and clear your throat. You do a few voice checks then repeat the filming process. 
“Don’t worry baby boo, sugar lumps, my apple pie.” You give the camera a smug look , biting down seductively on your lips and say in a deep, gruff voice. “You know who I am?” You glance at the camera head-to-toe. “Well baby girl, I’m the strongest.” 
“Hey! I do not sound like that.”
You freeze, startled at the real masculine voice that suddenly comes from behind you. And you slowly pivot your body around, raising the right side of the blindfold an inch to see none other than a tall figure with snow-white hair and a black blindfold that matches your own, standing at the entrance of the room with furrowed brows and cheeks puffed from a playful pout.
“Toru, you’re home!” You can’t help but giggle at your boyfriend’s childish reaction before, pausing the video, crossing the room in a few strides and throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace.
Satoru wraps his arms around your smaller frame being careful not to ruin the pink sparkly gift bag you were yet to notice in his hand containing a gift he’d gotten you during his mission. He then leans down to your height, touching a soft kiss to your forehead. “I see my baby’s missed me.” He smiles.
“Of course I did.” Your words are muffled against his broad chest, a satisfied smile gracing your face from the gentle feel of his kiss. 
“Here. I’ve got you something.”
You unwillingly pull away from Satoru and fully tug  the blindfold down to see the gift bag he holds towards you.
You retrieve it from his hands, peering into it to see brown doe eyes staring back at you. 
“Toru, it’s so cute!” You squeal as you free the fluffy stuffed toy from its sparkly confines, cuddling it against your chest. “I love it!”
Satoru’s face beams at your response, the corners of his lips stretching into a somewhat bashful smile. “I’m so happy my baby likes it.” He says before his attention  shifts to his spare blindfold that hangs around your neck, remembering that a moment ago he’d walked in on you rizzing up his mirror. “So what’s with the blindfold?” 
“Oh, this?” Your fingers find themselves fiddling with the piece of said fabric. “I was just messing around.” You wave a hand dismissively at him, leaving his side to lay the toy against a plush pillow on the bed further across the room.
“You were that bored, huh?” Satoru chuckles as he trails behind you, before a teasing smirk winds its way onto his face. “How needy. I didn’t know my pretty girl would be so lonely without me. Maybe next time I’ll give you a body pillow with my face on it.”
Your face steams at his words, and you whirl around to meet his shadowed gaze. “I am not needy. I was simply bored, okay.” You cross your arms and jut out your lips—your plump and very, very kissable lips—Satoru thinks, finding it hard to peel his gaze off them. But reluctantly does when a thought clicks to mind. 
“I’m sorry babe. You’re not that needy.” Satoru apologises and gently takes one of your hands, raising it to his lips before pressing a tender kiss on the back of your palm. “By the way, I’ve got another surprise for you. Do…you want it?” 
“I won't be bribed, Toru.” 
“C’mon baby. I think you’ll really like it.” He releases your hand to clasp his together and says in a sing-song voice, “And besides,  I really, really would like to give it to you.”
“Is it food? Money?”
Satoru chuckles at your words. “You’ll see, but…” he drawls. “You’ve gotta put the blindfold back on.”
You arch a sceptical brow at that.“Why?”
You know Satoru. 
And you know he’s probably scheming something—you can see it in the way the corners of his mouth curve up into an I’m-up-to-something smile.
“‘Cause…” He drags. “It's a gift I can’t give you unless you put the blindfold back on.”
His words don't make much–any– sense to you, but eventually, you relent after losing  a minute–long staring competition between his translucent ocean-blue eyes and your own, persuaded by the pleading expression of your strikingly handsome and adorable Toru. 
You sigh in defeat when Satoru finishes securing his blindfold with a loose knot across your eyes.“Now what?”
Your question is answered by Satoru's large hands reeling you in by your hips with gentle care, drawing you close and into his firm body.
The feeling of his strong arms circling your waist follows, leaving you to settle the palms of your hands against his chest. And with the little space left between your bodies, the soothing scent of him and a hint of his masculine cologne wraps itself around you, cloaking your senses like a fuzzy blanket.
“Don’t tell me this is the surprise?”
“So what if it is. My hugs are the best.” He says rather smugly and you can’t help but chuckle lightly at that. 
“Yeah, they are.” You lean in closer to his soothing warmth.
A kiss to your forehead follows your boyfriend’s loving and comforting embrace, and a pleased hum leaves you at the affectionate gesture—you’ve always adored his forehead kisses.
Another kiss, equally as loving and tender is pressed to your blindfolded eyes, one at a time and your face scrunches slightly when he next, unexpectedly, plops a wet one to your nose. 
“Toru!” You giggle, giggling some more when he kisses your nose again before moving to pepper feather-light kisses to your cheeks. Though your jubilant laughter abruptly cuts short when his lips start to slowly trail soft kisses along your jawline. One of the many parts of your body that has never been touched by his lips.
Heat rises up your neck and settles at your cheeks when his kisses continue to trace along your sensitive skin, burning more furiously when you feel his warm breath caress the right corner of your mouth.
He gives it a peck which makes your heart stutter.
“T-Toru?”
“Hm?” Satoru hums in response, and you feel the sensation of it vibrate against your skin.
“Is…Is this the surprise?” You question a second time, your voice a bit shaky as you do.
 Satoru presses a kiss, this time to the left corner of your mouth. “Nope.”
“Then…what’s the sur—”
Your words are muffled when Satoru’s soft lips connect to yours. And your heart leaps, your face burning as both your lips meld together in a slow and tender kiss. A pleasant sensation for both you and Satoru short-lived when he pulls away, the deep blush that colours almost his entire face, obscured from your view by the black blindfold on your own.
His forehead presses gently against yours. “That is.” He says almost breathless, referring to your unfinished question, before capturing your lips in another and this time, much longer, deeper—and addictively sweeter kiss.
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© 2024 kana-daydreams
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misshoneyimhome · 14 hours
Text
Say My Name, Say My Name I Andrei Svechnikov 🖋️⚡️🌺
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Requested? Yes / No
Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”
Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; fluff, soft smut 18+; unprotected sex (p in v);
Other notes: So, this is my debut writing for Andrei Svechnikov - and can I just… *deep breath* how did nobody warn me about how fucking adorable he is!? I mean, I know he's like five times my size, but all I want to do is squeeze his cute face 😮‍💨 Anyway, onto the main point, this is the first of three TikTok-trends stories; it's just pure fluff with a hint of gentle smut 🌷🐰
I hope you enjoy it 🤍😉
Word count; 1.8K
・✶ 。゚
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On a lazy Sunday afternoon, sunlight poured through the windows of your snug shared flat as you and your boyfriend Andrei Svechnikov settled in for a quiet day. Andrei, engrossed in watching some sports on the telly, lounged comfortably on the sofa while you nestled into the cushions a few feet away. And as you casually scrolled through your phone, you stumbled upon a new TikTok trend that intrigued you – referring to your boyfriend as your husband and capturing his reaction. The idea caught your interest, especially given the closeness and ease of your relationship, which had flourished over the past two years. So, fuelled by curiosity, you couldn't resist pondering how Andrei would react.
You quietly rose from your spot on the couch, pretending to casually need the loo, before returning with your action camera discreetly set to record. Then, with practiced casualness, you asked Andrei if he felt like eating, suggesting ordering takeaway instead of cooking. And thankfully, he agreed, setting the scene for your playful prank.
As you then pretended to dial the number for takeaway, you held the phone to your ear, putting on a convincing act, and with a mischievous grin, you began the charade.
"Hi, yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery, please," you said, your voice tinged with mock formality. "Can I get a pasta salad bowl with chicken, and some garlic bread? Thank you."
You paused for a moment before adding, "Yeah, um, and my husband would like a Caesar salad with some extra chicken."
The first time you slipped in the word "husband," Andrei's brows furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decipher whether he heard correctly. However, he shrugged it off, attributing it to a potential misunderstanding due to the language barrier or perhaps his own mishearing.
“Mmm, that’s right. Yes, just remember to put the chicken in the salad, 'cause last time you wanted to put it on the side and my husband ended up not getting what he ordered.”
But when you repeated the term, his confusion deepened, and he turned towards you with a quizzical expression. His frown intensified, and he blinked in disbelief.
"Husband?" he muttered; his voice tinged with bafflement. The word hung in the air, stirring a mix of surprise and curiosity within him as he searched your face for an explanation.
You couldn’t deny it was the perfect reaction you’d hoped for. And despite your best efforts to maintain the charade, you couldn't contain your laughter as you observed Andrei's bewildered expression. After pretending to hang up the phone, your giggles bubbled up, eventually erupting into full-blown laughter that filled the room.
Caught in the contagious joy of your amusement, Andrei's own lips twitched into a grin, mirroring your infectious laughter, as he sensed the shift in the atmosphere, and you finally confessed your playful prank, unable to hold back any longer.
"I couldn't resist," you admitted between laughs, your voice filled with affection for your boyfriend. "I saw this TikTok trend and just had to see your reaction. I'm sorry, it was just too funny."
It was a heartfelt moment of shared laughter, with you laughing a little more than him as he was still somewhat baffled. And as the laughter died down, and Andrei's initial confusion turned into amusement, he shook his head with a chuckle, his eyes shining with fondness for you.
"You got me," he said, his tone playful. His amusement lingered, but then, to your surprise, he took your playful prank a step further, and with a pensive expression, he confessed, "You know, I actually don’t think it sounds bad."
His words caught you off guard. You almost choked on your own saliva as you looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really?" you asked, curiosity sparked by his unexpected response.
"Yeah," Andrei merely replied, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "I mean, we've been together for over two years now, and... I think maybe one day, maybe soon, it could happen.”
His unexpected response left you both surprised and touched. You hadn't expected such a thoughtful and mature reaction from your just 24-year-old boyfriend, yet his words stirred a mix of emotions within you, ranging from curiosity to warmth.
And as you absorbed his admission, you couldn't help but marvel at the depth of his feelings and the seriousness with which he regarded your relationship. It was a revelation that sparked a torrent of questions and emotions, prompting you to view the future in a fresh perspective.
"Andrei, I... I didn't realise you were thinking about these things," you said softly, your voice infused with a blend of surprise and affection. "I mean, I've thought about it too, but hearing you say it..."
Your words trailed off, unable to fully convey the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling within you. But Andrei simply smiled, his gaze meeting yours with steadfast sincerity.
"I just love you," he said simply, his words carrying a sense of truth and commitment that enveloped you in warmth and reassurance as he drew nearer to you on the sofa.
“And I love you,” you replied, meeting him in a tender kiss.
You cupped his face, tracing your thumb over his smooth jawline while admiring his beautiful eyes. Andrei was truly a magnificent boyfriend. 
And in that moment, you recognised that perhaps the playful prank had opened a gateway to a deeper level of understanding and connection with him, paving the way for discussions about the future that you hadn't dared to approach before. As you surrendered to seal your newfound intimacy with another lingering kiss, you couldn't help but melt into his touch, feeling utterly devoted to him.
His hands found the back of your neck, gently drawing you closer as the kiss deepened, while his tongue politely sought entrance. Granting his wish, you allowed him to explore your mouth, relishing the taste of him.
And as the kiss slowly grew more intense, your lungs yearned for air. Your fingers sought his hair, while his palms moved to grip your waist, pulling you firmly into his lap. Then breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you caught your breath while straddling him, and with his hands firmly settled on your hips, you felt emboldened to deepen the kiss once more, allowing your bodies to meld together in perfect harmony.
Andrei’s physique was nothing short of impressive. Every defined muscle showcased the hard work he put in as a professional hockey player, and his sturdy arms made it seem effortless to carry you as if you were weightless. And as you subtly pressed your core against his groin, you let your hands delicately glide down to the hem of his shirt, sliding beneath the fabric to explore his toned torso.
Sensing your cues, Andrei shifted slightly, briefly breaking the kiss to remove his t-shirt, unveiling the enticing sight beneath.
“Mmm,” you purred seductively, your eyes feasting on the sight of your boyfriend. And with a playful smirk, you mirrored his actions, revealing your naked chest as you had opted to go braless that day.
Andrei's hands eagerly explored your breasts, teasing them with nips and kisses before reconnecting his lips with yours. As your hands roamed each other's bodies, the kiss grew increasingly fervent and passionate with each passing moment.
It was clear that both of you desired more. Utilising his strength, Andrei effortlessly lifted you in his arms, gently placing you on your back on the sofa, and with a confident smirk, he trailed kisses down your upper body, journeying past your navel to the edge of your loose leggings. Hooking a couple of fingers under the elastic, he smoothly pulled down your leggings along with your dainty knickers, exposing your bare skin.
You let out a gasp as you felt the cool air against your heat, fully immersed in the moment. Meanwhile, Andrei stood to remove his grey sweats and boxers, revealing his semi-erect member.
It was a breathtaking sight. As you admired your boyfriend, you unconsciously licked your lips, while he slowly knelt on the sofa, leaning in to connect your lips once more. The kiss was almost messy as Andrei gently positioned you in a missionary position, yet it felt incredibly romantic as he tenderly traced his fingers along your sensitive folds.
With a soft sigh, you surrendered to his touch, feeling a wave of pleasure as he carefully inserted two fingers into your entrance, stretching your muscles with a few soft pumps before withdrawing them. Andrei sensed your readiness for more, as you gently stroked his length, ensuring he reached full hardness before leaning back and allowing him to hover over you.
Your eyes remained locked as you relaxed your body, taking slow, steady breaths while he positioned the tip of his member at your entrance, and gradually, he eased himself into your warmth.
“Oh yes,” you moaned softly, matching Andrei’s sounds of pleasure as his cock smoothly filled you. It felt as if your bodies were perfectly attuned as he slowly moved in and out of you, gently stimulating your walls and igniting a wave of pleasure within you.
Your hands found their way to his dark blonde locks, holding onto them as Andrei rocked his hips in a steady rhythm. Together, you felt the slow build-up of climax beginning to take shape. The intimacy shared on the sofa was tender and passionate, yet as your desire for each other grew, it intensified into something more urgent and needy.
The soft sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, blending with your moans. The air hung heavy with anticipation as endorphins surged, a result of the deep connection you shared. Beads of sweat began to form on your skin, evidence of the heat generated by your passionate encounter.
“Mmm… Andrei…,” you moaned softly, the telltale sign that your impending climax was drawing near.
Feeling your muscles gently tighten around his sensitive shaft, Andrei sensed his own peak approaching. Increasing the pace slightly, he buried himself deeper, thrusting faster and harder with each movement. Your fingers instinctively gripped the back of his shoulders, your hips lifting to accommodate him as you neared the edge of ecstasy.
“Yes… oh yes…” you moaned, and with a few more thrusts, Andrei propelled you into a rush of pleasure.
It was an exquisite sensation as your mind soared to new heights, causing your walls to clench around your boyfriend’s member, pushing him over the edge as well. And with a deep grunt, Andrei released himself into you.
There was a brief moment of serene silence as you both took a few seconds to catch your breath and regain control. Then, with care not to spill on the furniture, Andrei gently withdrew from your warmth and settled beside you, pulling you close for a tender cuddle.
“So, this is what I get for calling you my husband?” you chuckled softly, revealing in the comfort of being with your man.
“Maybe…” he grinned playfully.
“Hmm,” you murmured softly. “I can’t really complain, can I?” You flashed him a tender smile.
“No, but I don’t complain either,” Andrei replied softly. “But I do think I’m really hungry now.”
And you couldn’t help but laugh at your sweet boyfriend’s words before responding, “Me too.”
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