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#because obviously their letters weren’t usually paper letters
aemondavenue · 10 months
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desolate {aemond targaryen x reader}
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word count: 1.3k
parts: one | two
warnings: 18+. mentions of dub-con sex. toxic/unhealthy dynamics. angst. proceed with caution.
note: all grammar mistakes are my own. this ended up going differently than planned because i didn't want it to feel rushed. + part 2 is up!!!
Once a week, Aemond would bed you.
Ever since your wedding, now only a couple months ago, Aemond would come to your chambers when the hour was late and take you on your bed. Only to leave once the deed was done.
His orgasm would overtake him as if he hadn’t been chasing it in the first place. He had sex with you- no. He would fuck. This was somehow separated from you. This was his duty. His burden as your husband to plant you with his heirs. Your place as his wife was to take it and you did. This must be the truth of most marriage alliances, you thought. This was not the story that lied between the pages of the books on your bookshelf. This was your life. This was the order of things.
You didn’t know if you felt disappointed, you didn’t know if you were allowed to. You had married into a house more noble than your own. Every other perk of being married to a prince had fallen in your lap. People tending to you. Intricately tailored dresses. Glorious feasts. You could not have it all. You felt it was out of your place to complain.
One night you were called into Aemond’s chambers for the first time ever. He had never asked you to be brought to him, he had only ever come to you. You were getting ready for bed. You were dressed in your silk nightgown and your hair was released from the braids and pins from the day. 
“Aemond,” you called out to him as the door closed behind you.
“Wife,” he sat in his usual seat facing the fire, back turned to you.
You padded over to him.
“You sent for me?”
“I did.”
You shrug at him and your eyes find a letter in his hand.
“Do your eyes wonder, wife?”
You grimace, “I’m sorry?”
He reads off the paper, “My mother’s garden is far from lacking, still, I do miss the smell of roses.”
You furrow your brows at him and at the mention of your preferred scent.
“Now . . . have you been seeking the company of other men?” he looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Yes,” you lie. What were you doing?
His eyebrows raised, he let out a dry laugh, and looked into the flames of the fireplace, “Hm . . .”
He shakes his head and says, “Get out.”
“Do you want to know what me and this man would do in each other’s company?” What were you doing?
“Get out,” he was looking at you now.
“Depraved things,” you whispered, eyes locked on him, feet planted to the ground.
 “Get. Out.”
“And he would . . .,” you reached for the straps on your nightgown, the loose fit allowing the straps to come off your shoulders causing the silk to fall from your body to a pool at your feet, “touch me here-“ you channeled the best you knew from the novels tucked tightly into your shelves. You hand moved at a snail's pace towards your lower navel-
“That’s enough!” Aemond rose from his seat and took long strides towards you. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. His eyes burned into yours, seemingly unphased by the sight of you completely bare before him. Blinded by his rage. 
You didn’t know what you were thinking. You weren’t. However, you knew you liked seeing him like this. 
“Your lover’s head will be delivered on a spike to his family due morning. Do you understand me?” 
You look up at him, jaw clenched, smile bright on your face.
“And I myself will deal with you.” 
“Oh yeah? How so?” you tilt your head at him.
“What has gotten into you?!” he implored.
“I’m lying!”
He takes a step back from you, disgusted and obviously not buying it.
“I have lain with no other man, husband.” you shook your head.
He moves to pick up the letter, the paper crinkling in his fingers.
“On my mother, I haven't, you must believe me!”
He looks up at you then, eyelids heavy. He moves to throw the letter into the flames of the fire, watches as the parchment is engulfed by the flames, then turns to walk back to you. He grabs a firm hold of your jaw and pulls your face to look up at him. 
“On your mother?” he knew you held such sayings with high reverence.
“On my mother, on everything. I am not aware of why he remembers my scent” you say with a now shattered veneer.
“Why do you forget yourself?”
“I liked for a moment that the idea of someone else claiming me would make you upset. I liked the idea of you fighting for me. I liked seeing you angry and that it was because of my doing. It makes me feel-”
“What? Amused?” he furrows his brows at you.
“Wanted. Aemond, it makes me feel wanted. Men writing letters to me is more indicative of your character than of mine,” you moved your arms to cover your body now, somehow feeling more naked, “does it not bother you, not that they want me, but that they see a gap in our marriage wide enough to prod at?”
After a moment you wait for him to respond, but there’s silence and you shake your head. You bend down to grab the nightgown at your feet and pull the straps back over your shoulders. You take one more glance at him before walking to the door.
“Wait,” he reaches for your arm. You turn to him.
“Sleep in my bed with me tonight,” he says.
When you don’t answer, he sweeps you up from your feet and carries you bridal style to his bed. After setting you down, he slings his trousers and tunic to his chair and crawls in with you. He lays his head on the pillow next to yours, facing you. You lay flat on your back staring at the ceiling. You could feel his eye scanning your face.
You thought about how silly it would sound if you explained to your closest friend that after this amount of time into your marriage, though short, you were just now laying in your husband's bed. You also thought about how he only did this after being threatened with the idea of another man wanting you. How you were only worth fighting for because another man deemed you worthy of doing so. You began to cry. 
Aemond sat up and pulled you into his arms. He cradled you close to his chest as you sobbed. The only sound filling the room was your muffled weeps into his chest. He rocked you back and forth and pulled you tighter to him.
“I have wronged you,” he says.
You say nothing.
“I told myself that I was doing you a favor by distancing myself from you as we are not bound by love,” he said, “I created a sequence in my head: a marriage before the septon then a baby as consummation. My job as a second son, a pawn. My favor to you after our wedding was to make this process as stealthy as possible. My way of coping with that was to take the human aspect out of it. Remove the fluff. Make it impersonal. That was my mistake.”
“You don’t know how lonely it’s been,” you responded, voice quiet.
“I want to make it up to you,” he sounded desperate, “how do I make it up to you?”
“Time.”
“That’s all I need.”
“Effort.”
“Of course.”
“I would like you, for the time being, to make love to me instead of fuck me and it will be when I say,” you look at him.
“Okay,” he responds in a hushed tone, eyes darkening.
“Not now, another time,” you sigh, “but tonight you will hold me as we sleep and I hope not to wake up to an empty bed in the morning.”
He nods and lifts you to lay you back on your side of the bed again. You fall asleep with your back to his chest. This would be the new order of things.
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hopelessrromantix · 7 months
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Okay, but sandman is SO GOOD. Maybe the reader being good friends with Morpheus and getting secret admirer notes delivered by ravens? And obviously Morpheus has Absolutely no idea who might be writing these letters to his friend. No, the ravens look nothing like *his* ravens. He has no idea what you are talking about.
I AGREE anyway more sandman reqs pls
(reader is personification of Love)
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If you didn’t know Dream of the Endless as well as you did, you would’ve been insulted.
Sending love notes?
To Love?
Usually notes to you were full of empty promises and false feelings. But did he truly think sending a love note would give him any sort of anonymity? You could practically feel the love soaking the page the second the paper touched your hand. And though the letters were only signed “One Who Loves You” you weren’t as oblivious as Dream seemed to think.
In the beautiful, intricate realm that you ruled over, full of your beloved roses and the array of other lovely flowers, a jet black raven stood out. Especially when the people of your realm knew their ruler was friends with an Endless known for his ravens. Plus, they loved gossiping about you and Morpheus.
Echoing footsteps brought your attention down the steps of your throne to the entryway.
“Eros. What news?” You questioned, recognizing the man at the door.
He was one of your most trustworthy cupids and he'd been working with you ever since you created him. He was shorter than you, but obviously very physically strong.
“Ah, well…” He trailed off a bit before he was interrupted by a caw, a pair of black wings entering your throne room. “... he sent another, your majesty.”
“I can see that,” You hummed. You held out your arm, silently giving permission for the bird to land on you and hand over the letter in its mouth. “I take it I still don’t get to know who these are from?” You asked, your tone light.
“Nope. Sorry, uh, your highness.”
You laughed at the bird (it hadn’t even told you it’s name). “Princes are ‘highness’, you mean ‘your majesty’.” You joked, smirking at the alarm that flashed through its eyes.
“Right. Knew that. Sorry, your majesty.”
“Love works just fine, my dear.” You waved off his apology, letting him fly off.
“You’re still playing along, my lord?” Eros questioned, a wide smirk on his freckled face.
You chuckled. “It’s sweet, don’t you think?” You unraveled the tied letter, your eyes scanning the scrawled text. “‘Your features steal the breath from my body and your words the heart from my chest.’ I don’t think even I could write better.” You smiled. Morpheus was not a man you imagined would pour his heart out like this, but in fairness, maybe he really did think you didn’t know.
You could hear Eros mumbling under his breath. “You only think so because you love him… your grace.”
You sighed. Love could drive people mad, you were very good at it. But when you were the one in love, it didn’t seem quite so mad.
“You dislike him?”
“I dislike his pathetic idea that Love themself is not capable of knowing who sends ravens to their doorstep.” You raised a brow at him. “Your eminence.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t care about the title, Eros.” You huffed, smiling at your second in command. “He’s not pathetic, he’s in love. Love makes everyone just a bit dizzy, hm?”
“You mean love makes everyone pathetic?”
“Love only makes you pathetic if you ignore it. So how about I give Morpheus a push.”
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"Dream Lord." You greeted, nodding as he entered one of the many rooms in your Haven.
"Love."
You smirked at the formality.
You laid back against the rather dramatic chaise you owned, the blood red color complimenting the robes you wore.
He took a seat on one of the chairs by your legs, the deep color contrasting his pale skin. He looked beautiful.
You swung your legs around, leaning toward him on the seat. "You know, you are my closest friend, Morpheus." You began, dropping the titles.
"A position I hold with pride, Y/n."
He was always charming for a man so cold.
“As such I must confess to you, I’ve been receiving love letters as of late.” You watched him tense slightly, a movement you doubted anyone else would be able to catch.
Your finger met his thigh, tracing whatever patterns came to mind. “Don’t you always?” He questioned.
“These ones are special.” You smirked, your eyes glimmering as you felt the familiar feeling of love in the air. “They’re beautiful. Written by someone who’s fallen in love with me.”
He smirked to himself, “Doesn’t everyone who writes you say the same things?”
You nodded and sighed, letting your cheek rest on his thigh, internally smiling at the way he instantly froze. “They’re never truly in love with me. Just the concept of Love itself. But these letters, whoever writes them truly loves me.”
“And what do you think of them?” His attempt to question you, clearly struggling on where to put one of his hands. You helped him out eventually, grabbing it and holding it in your own.
“I think they’ve insulted me greatly.”
“Insulted you?”
You didn’t miss the worried look in his eye. You could feel how fast his heart beat, how the love persisted, but fear tainted it.
“Yes,” You sighed, allowing the panic to seep in a second longer. Perhaps you were a bit petty that Morpheus didn’t think you were strong enough to sense when someone was in love with you. You were Love itself, after all. Plus, not many deities were known for their talking ravens.
“And how have they managed this?” He questioned, his voice quieter than before.
“For some reason, they have assumed that I, Love themself, cannot sense when someone loves me.”
“I see.” He opened his mouth to say more but you stood up from the chair, now standing over the man before you.
You brought a hand up to his chin, fingers tilting his head up to look at you. You felt the rush of love in the room, love he had attempted not to show. “Only the overconfident or the hopelessly romantic send letters to Love,” you explained. “Tell me, Dream of the Endless, which are you?”
“Me?” He questioned. Perhaps he was too shocked by your question, but you wondered if he really didn’t think you knew.
“Did you think a raven flying through my palace wouldn't start up rumors? Besides, even now I can feel your love pulsing beneath your skin.” His eyes left yours, feeling less confident under your gaze. “You really thought I wouldn’t recognize someone in love?”
"I meant no offense," he nervously clarified. You chuckled at his tone, far less commanding than you usually saw from the Dream King.
"I know you didn't, Morpheus." You reassured, smiling down at him. "If I loved you any less I might have been upset."
You watched as your statement set in, his demeanor softening. The relief in his soul was palpable.
You gripped his chin softly, still tilting his head up to face you. His skin was warm against your fingers, the love he held for you burning just beneath the surface.
"You return my feelings?"
"‘Your features steal the breath from my body and your words the heart from my chest'." You smiled softly, watching him melt into your hand. "That is what your most recent letter said, correct?"
He only nodded, too caught between how softly you held him and how lovingly you looked down at him.
"Will you kiss me?"
"Only if you let me love you."
"I'd be a fool if I didn't."
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cissywritess · 1 year
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𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆 | One
Summary: You’re in your last year of high school, you want out of this town. It won’t be so easy when you got a stalker.
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Pairing: Dark!Stucky x reader
Warnings: 18+, Dark Themes. Do not read if you are sensitive. Please, also check warning before you read anything 18+
Notes: The reader is obviously 18, calm down don’t call paw patrol. Unedited. This will be a series called ✨𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆✨
You have always been lonely, mentally. You had one friend, Amelia was her name. You and Amelia have been friends since elementary. “Y/N! You won’t believe what just happened,” Amelia approached your locker. “I got voted for captain of the cheerleading team,”
The difference between you and Amelia was that she was popular and well you weren’t. She had friends while you only had her. “I just heard the news,” one of her friends ran up to her. “Let’s celebrate by going to the mall,”
Amelia paid no more attention to you and let her friends take her away. As much as you hate to admit it, she wasn’t a good friend. She only wants to talk to you when she wants to. She’ll ignore you if you approach her and ask to hang out. The only reason you’re still her friend is because you have no one else, you don’t think you’ll take it having no friends. You’re in senior year now you can’t be sappy.
You have it all planned out, after you graduate you’ll leave this town, go to college, find a lovely spacious apartment, and who knows maybe you’ll find someone. You have already been saving up, working at a diner after school.
As you walked home you couldn't help but feel eyes on you, everytime you stopped and looked around no one seemed suspicious. It's been like this for a couple of months now, they wanted you to know. Sending flowers to your house, you even get messages online from them. Whoever they are.
Once you made it home you didn't have time to do anything else but change into your work clothes. Your stay-at-home mother wasn't home, you weren't surprised by this because she was never home. She'd stay at some random man's house, after your fathers' death she wasn't the same, and that was 6 years ago.
Work stressed you out and with sending college applications out, you barely have time on your hands. The door opens with a ring and you look up and smile, "Hi Steve, the usual?" you asked, Steve was a regular who'd come in around the time your shift started. Sometimes he'll come in with a friend, Bucky. Steve was nice and always knew how to start a conversation while Bucky was quiet. They always lighten up your shift, making it a little more bearable.
"Yup," He sat on the stool. You set a mug in front of him and grabbed the coffee pot beginning to pour coffee into his mug. "How's school any letters?" you have a tendency to overshare, it's not like Steve was a creep. He came in a lot, so much you grew a bond.
"Not yet, which is weird. I sent them out weeks ago," You told him as you wrote his order down, you ripped the paper out of the book and took it to the kitchen window.
"I'm sure they'll come in, don't get your hopes up," He assured you, you cleaned up the plates and trash from the last customer, wiping down the table. You went to the kitchen window and grabbed Steve's order, you put his plate in front of him, "Thanks sweetheart," He said, making your heart bounce out of your chest. It was wrong to like someone who is way older than you. But it was just a crush and you're pretty sure he has a girlfriend or something considering he's very handsome.
"You're welcome," You replied and let him be, you attended to a new customer, taking their order. The door rings and you look up, your heart drops. It was Amelia and her friends, they never come in here. You looked around wondering where the other waitress was, you sighed knowing you'll have to do your job. You calmed yourself and walked up to their booth, taking a small book out and pen. "I'm Y/N I'll be your waitress today, drinks?" You said,
Amelia ignored you whatsoever, while her friends giggled once they saw you, "Y/N I didn't know you worked here," one of Amelia's friends replied, she looked at you up and down and sighed. "Not surprised, anyways we'll all take milkshakes, strawberry," she smiled. You wrote it down and left going back behind the diner.
You got to another customer, after a few more minutes you got their milkshakes and went to where they were handing them out to them. You once again took out your book and one out. "May I take your order?” You look down at the book ready to write it down.
“Nope,” she pops the p at the end with her lips. You nod and leave.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steve pulled out his wallet and left the money next to the plate. You picked it up and saw he tipped you forty dollars. It’s not unusual, he always leaves a big tip.
“Are you sure, it’s a lot for a tip,” you look at him. He chuckles, you’ve had this conversation with him before,
“I’ll see you soon,” he says and heads for the door.
After more cleaning and serving customers Amelia and her friends leave, you go to their booth to clean up only to find out they didn’t pay for their drinks. You huffed out knowing it’ll come out of your paycheck.
When you got home you quickly dropped your stuff and headed to the bathroom. You needed a hot shower to relieve some stress, once you were out you went into your room, that was small. Your mom is a single mother, which means she can barely afford things. Like this small house, she bought with your dad's inheritance, she's been making money in her own ways. You changed and did your usual routine.
You pulled your laptop out of your backpack and sat up on your bed. First, you checked your emails to see if any colleges responded back to you. You then checked your messages, there was nothing but one message.
You look gorgeous as always baby
You tried to tell someone about this stalker but no one listened, they either don't believe someone like you would be stalked or they say, "We'll look into it" but never receive a text or call. This is why your dream is to leave this town, you're nothing here. If you leave you can start fresh. You leave them on sent and close your laptop, you went downstairs making sure all the doors and windows were closed.
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lovebugism · 7 months
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Okay, hear me out. The reader has a birthday in the summer and boyfriend!Steve is throwing her a little surprise bd party somewhere outside of Hawkins, along with Eddie, Robin and the kids 🥹🥰
thanks for your request!! — the one where steve harrington and the rest of the gang try hopelessly to celebrate the grump of the group (grumpy!reader, established relationship, 2k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
A heart-shaped cake sits on top of a rotting park bench.
It’s obviously homemade, slathered with sage green icing that’s visibly uneven — bare in some places and thicker in others. Your name is written on the very center in a darker shade of juniper. At least, you’re pretty sure it’s supposed to be. The letters are sloppy and nearly illegible. It could say anything really, and you’d have no way of knowing.
Several smaller hearts are dotted around the top and the sides, looking more like gloopy circles and poorly drawn birds. You figure they were added as an afterthought, perhaps to distract from the various dents around the edges of the cake.
Despite all that — or maybe because of it — your heart swells with an inhuman sort of warmth.
You didn’t think people cared enough about you to bake a cake for you. Or to throw a surprise party for you. Honestly, you didn’t think anyone besides Steve even knew it was your birthday. The thought makes your chest feel tight, a healthy mixture of mirth and panic.
Several faces smile expectantly at you. You blink owlishly back at them. The twittering sounds of nature fill the anticipatory silence.
“Sorry,” you apologize in a half-sincere monotone, fidgeting awkwardly on the wooden bench seat. “I just… I never know how to respond when a group of people sing Happy Birthday to me.”
Steve smiles and smoothes a palm up and down your spine. His honey eyes flit between your profile and the burning striped candles on top of the cake. “I think most people usually blow out the candles at this point, babe.”
“Yeah,” Robin concurs from across the bench, sitting squarely on the edge to fit beside Dustin and Eddie. Her blue eyes widen as her maroon-tinted mouth quirks slightly upward. “If they burn too low, they’ll set the cake on fire.”
Eddie beams at her words. His chocolate eyes dart between Robin, the cake, and you. “Wait… That actually sounds kinda cool,” he lilts with a soft chuckle.
“No! Not cool!” Dustin argues in response. His bushy brows pinch together in disdain and his nose scrunches at the thought. “We worked hard on this cake, okay? So let’s maybe not ruin it—”
“I thought it was already ruined?” you blurt before you mean to.
The curly-haired boy snaps his attention from Eddie to you, equally as confused as you seem to be. “What?”
You shrug with a flat face. “I don’t know… I thought you guys, like, dropped it on the way over here or something.”
You’re too kind to be mean, too aloof to realize how insensitive you sound. 
You thought it might’ve been the perfect explanation for why the cake looked so… messy. Dustin was a perfectionist to boot, and Max commanded the boys like it was her job to do it. With their forces combined, you figure they could make just about anything five-star bakery-worthy.
This heart-shaped cake in front of you isn’t perfect. It looks more like what would happen to a sheet of paper if you gave toddlers a bunch of finger paint. Because they weren’t trying to make it flawless at all. They were making something sweet for you and having fun together while doing it.
You can imagine the kids laughing as they flick flour at one another and smear green icing on each other’s cheeks. Your chest warms all over again. Your heart glows with a happiness you often keep hidden.
“Considering it’s your birthday, I am actively choosing not to take offense to that statement,” Dustin responds after a beat of silence, a sincere smile on his boyish features.
“We made it ourselves, actually,” Lucas tells you with his own grin. He sits adjacent to the former boy, shoulder-to-shoulder with Max. Despite the many inches of space on either side of them, his bare arm brushes against her freckled one.
“That makes sense,” you mutter to yourself.
Steve exhales a laugh from beside you. His broad hand squeezes gently at your shoulder. “Blow out the candles, babe. Before you actually do set the cake on fire.”
Your chest inflates with an inhale that you blow out through your mouth. The flickering orange flames shift sideways for a moment before turning into wisps of gray smoke. 
The group around you starts to applaud. Some of them cheer quietly for you. It makes your brows furrow with distant contempt. You shrink into yourself, not made to be easily celebrated.
Steve smacks a kiss to your cheek, then. His plush, pink lips smush against your skin and pull into a beam a second later. His eyes sparkle with the sunshine expression when you turn to look at him. 
His arm curls more intently around you to hold you closer. Even though you make no move to hold him back, you melt into him just the same. His smile widens when he feels you grow heavier against him — much less tense than you usually are.
“What’d you wish for?” he wonders with his brows raised.
In a deadpan, you answer. “That goes against the philosophy of wishes, Harrington.”
“Right,” he concurs in a scoff. You feel his chest rumble with breathy laughter. It makes you lean further into him before you realize you’re doing it. 
Steve notices, though — rather quickly, because physical affection never did come easily to you. His already wide smile grows somehow fuller. His nose smushes into your hair when he pressed a kiss to your temple.
—————
The cake quickly disappears as everyone cuts themselves a slice and downs it with vigor. It’s less about being dreadfully hungry and more about there being something innately delicious about homemade pastries. 
Dustin tells you he calculated the recipe himself — comparing the backs of several cake mix boxes and what he knew you liked best. That, along with Max’s strangely distinct cheffing ability, created the perfect cake.
It was just dense enough, just sweet enough, just soft enough.
Despite its mess, it was undeniably made with love.
When Steve dismisses himself to get the cooler of drinks he left in his car, you take your slice of cake with you. You hold the festive plate in one hand and a plastic fork in another. Blanketed by shade at the side of the vacant road, you confess with green icing on the corner of your mouth — “Can we go home now?”
Steve huffs as he drops the heavy cooler on the grassy trail. He rises with a furrow to his brows.
“What? We just got here,” he answers with a soft chuckle, reaching his arm out for you. His knuckles brush gently at your chin as his thumb swipes over the corner of your mouth. 
The action is too quick for you to dodge. Your features scrunch in disgust when he licks the rouge icing from the pad of his finger. 
“We haven’t even finished eating yet.”
“But it’s so hot,” you gripe, face twisted in a distant pout. “And there’s, like, a million things I’d rather be doing.”
“Well, that’s rude,” the boy jokes with his head tilted to his shoulder.
“Everyone just, like… keeps talking to me. And looking at me. I don’t like it— it’s weird.”
Steve smiles, pink and lopsided. “God forbid someone pays a little attention to you every now and then, huh?”
“You do it enough,” you grouse like you’re not grateful for how much he loves you. Your face is fixed in a deadpan to conceal the adoration you have for the boy in front of you. Your eyes twinkle with all of it, anyway. “I don’t need anybody else to give me attention.”
Steve’s chest swells — with pride, perhaps, or maybe with how much he loves you. A healthy mixture of both, maybe.
“Damn right, you don’t,” he singsongs lowly before leaning down to kiss you. His soft lips press against your scowl. He feels like the white puffy clouds above you and tastes like the blue sky surrounding them. 
You don’t want to lean into them, still a bit pouty in your way. 
You regret not kissing him harder the second he pulls away from you.
He picks up the cooler and flashes you a soft, sympathetic grin. “C’mon, babe. Just a little while longer, okay? And then I’ll take you home. I promise.”
He’s about to walk away from you, turning on the heel of his dirty sneaker and expecting you to follow him. 
You don’t, though. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in one place, calling out for him before he can get too far. “Wait!” you blurt, still quiet in your plea.
Steve stills. He turns back to you, his brows raised expectantly. “Yeah?”
A beat of silence passes. You shift your weight on your feet and hold yourself tighter, letting the sounds of chirping birds and rolling breezes fill your quiet until you can find the words — the courage to say them, more like.
“That wasn’t my wish,” you confess gently.
You don’t say anything more than that, despite how vague it sounds. You expect him to understand you without having to plead for him outright. He usually does, though sometimes he loves to hear you beg.
Now, he’s just purely confused. 
“What do you mean?” he presses, not teasing you, just trying to understand you better.
“When I blew out the candles,” you explain, monotoned and still slightly pouting. “I wished that… you’d kiss me.”
That wasn’t entirely true. 
Actually, you wished that all of this would be over a lot quicker than how dreadfully slow it was going. 
You loved your friends, you really did, but you were not the same extroverted being who loved surprises that your boyfriend was. You’d much rather pretend you weren’t another year older and spend the day in bed, wrapped like a present in Steve’s arms.
And you don’t mean to lie about all that, but you don’t know how else to ask for another kiss.
You’re still learning how to be more openly affectionate with him — how to let Steve be more affectionate with you. He’s learning how to give you more space just the same. He can be too suffocating at times, he’s found, and his relationships have wilted like a dying flower accordingly.
You’re both looking for that sweet spot, the exact middle between too clingy and too distant. You’ve found that in each other in a lot of ways. The two of you bring a bit of both that balances you out perfectly.
Your words make Steve melt. 
He exhales a sharp laugh through his nose, chest swelling with so much love that it hurts him. His nose scrunches as he walks the short distance back to you. “Well, what kinda douchebag would I be if I didn’t let my girl’s wish come true on her birthday, huh?”
He drops the cooler at his feet again, and it crunches beneath the green grass. Melted ice and canned soda swish audibly from within it as he takes you in his arms. In the cool shade, his wide palms smooth around your hips to warm you like the summer sun.
You keep your arms crossed over you like you didn’t just beg him to be this close, still holding your plate in one hand.
“A huge one,” you answer, voice as flat as your face as you blink up at him. “You already are, actually.”
“Says the girl asking me to kiss her,” Steve jokes with a crooked grin.
Though your own smile threatens to quirk the edges of your lips, you fight to keep it hidden. “I take it back,” you quip at his teasing.
You’re lying, but he already knows that.
“No, you don’t,” he lilts with the shake of his head. He beams at you, perhaps too fondly than you deserve, and leans down once more to give you exactly what you wanted.
His pink lips lock with yours in a mixture of vivid hues. He tastes like sweet cake and sweeter soda. The rough pad of his tongue licks against your mouth to get a taste of you, too. It’s as soft and sweet as you’re still learning how to be.
310 notes · View notes
blue-jisungs · 1 year
Note
can u pls make a e2l with jeonghan? it can be however u want! also female reader pls pls
soup&&confession
a/n. i’ll do you one better: friends to enemies to lovers. i hope you like it, i kinda… got carried away with it…
also if you noticed that my recent works are academic-themed… sorry 😭 it’s my last year and finals are coming so i gotta cope with stress LMAOO
summary. you didn’t think that someone would see your breakdown. and above all, you didn’t think that this someone would be jeonghan, your academic rival.
warnings. cursing lol!! mention of skipping meals and sleep, not a warning but seungkwan and jimin (bts) cameo (bc he was the only k-pop star who’s jeonghan’s age i could think of😭)
words. ~2700
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your leg was bouncing up and down under the desk, your eyes glued to the professor. jeonghan though, was focused on you with a shit eating grin on his face.
“what? are you nervous that you failed or something?” he cooed and you snapped your gaze towards him.
“pft, no” a lie “i was studying” another lie.
jeonghan rose his eyebrow in a cocky manner and stretched lazily.
“mhm. then you don’t mind if i can offer you bringing your test to you?” he asked.
“oh, you’re such a gentleman. no thank you, i can do it myself” you sent him a fake smile and stood up. the class was dismissed so you took your bag and rushed to get your test. you heard jeonghan following you, so you sped up.
the truth was that you didn’t even remember how all that bickering with him started. he’s just your academic rival. you were friends since high school and okay, he was your first crush but collage changed both of you. and things weren’t the same as they used to.
you grabbed your test off the desk and rushed out from the classroom, taking a glance at it. 61/100 points. you felt disappointed but frankly speaking, you didn’t study that much.
lately you felt overwhelmed by everything. not only tests and exams but also your job. and the winter season also made your mood worse. not to mention jeonghan always bugging you.
“so?”
you turned around, surprised. before you realised who it was, you saw dark spots appear in front of your eyes. your knees suddenly felt weak so you wanted to grab something, anything. and it happened to be someone’s arm.
“hey, what the fuck are you–”
jeonghan. great.
you tilted your head down, blinking, as if was supposed to make your vision come back to normal quicker. your other hand tightened on the test, crumpling it.
jeonghan on the other hand, was concerned. were you alright? obviously, he isn’t dumb. and besides, he’s known you for a while now. when you wore thick layers of makeup he knew that you have bags under your eyes. the way you tried to play it off when you dozed off during lecture or just your behaviour in general. something was going on.
“you scared me, idiot. i turned too quickly” you hissed and looked up, apparently back to normal. you caught his stare on you, jaw clenched “what did you want?”
“nothing” he snarled, walking away. what a guy.
you went to the library, finding your usual spot at the end of the room. it wasn’t filled with people so you hoped you could focus for at least a while.
your heart felt heavy as you pulled the books from your bag. the test, crumpled, was haunting you at the desk. jeonghan probably got maximum points.
you shook your head, feeling a tender feeling of prickling underneath your eyelids. you hid the test in the bag, opening your book.
“pull yourself together, dumbass” you whispered, blinking a couple of times to look at the text “focus, idiot”
the letters started blurring in front of your eyes and before you realised the tears were falling down onto the paper, staining it.
you hid your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sniffles. you were tired. exhausted even. as ridiculous as it sounds, it just hit you. and the stress that’s going to come is going to be worse and–
“hey, are you alright?”
you shook your head as a no, not even bothering to look up. because you knew it was him.
“fuck off” you choked out, struggling to breathe.
“i’m not saying anything” jeonghan sighed and sat next to you, closing your books “take deep breaths, okay?”
“i’m trying” you mumbled, voice at the verge of crying. you wanted to go home.
“you’re doing okay. do you want to hold my hand?” he hummed, shuffling closer. your took a sudden, deep breath only to let it out with more tears “poor thing… what happened?”
normally you’d tell him to fuck off… again. but your mind felt like it was going to explode.
you leaned forward, your hand gripping your knees harshly. maybe by implying some impact, some kind of pain… you’ll get distracted and–
“don’t do that, silly” jeonghan’s voice was so… surprisingly soft and tender. he grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently “breath with me, please. you’re basically hyperventilating and it’s not good. look at me”
you shook your head as a no. you were humiliated enough by being caught in your vulnerable state by him. and now he wants to look at you, all teary and red from all that crying.
“don’t make me do this” he sighed, drawing circles on your hands as you subconsciously dug your nails onto the palms of his hands.
you looked up, still shaking your head. even though you gave in. you expected his gaze to be pierce and mean but his ebony irises were nothing but… soft.
“in and out, follow me” jeonghan hummed and you did as he said. at first it was difficult but eventually you managed.
you sat there, breathing back to normal. your head felt like something exploded in it, your nose a bit stuffed but besides… jeonghan - the guy who loved to tease you at every opportunity possible - helped you. and now he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
“what are you staring at?” you snarled, frowning.
“you’re unbelievable” he scoffed, a playful smile on his lips “besides you’re still holding my hands”
your eyes widened and you snapped your hands out of his hold, dramatically wiping them against your jeans.
you looked around and started packing your books.
“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” jeonghan asked, his eyebrows rising up. you didn’t answer.
when your bag was packed, you were ready to leave but jeonghan snatched it and put it over his shoulder.
“hey!” you huffed, looking at him flabbergasted.
“don’t yell, we’re still in a library. and now you’re going with me. to my place” jeonghan shrugged and started walking away.
“what?” you asked and had no choice but to follow him.
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“are you gonna speak to me or…?” jeonghan is at the verge of breaking his patience. well, the walk was quiet and now you refused to say something.
“maybe if you didn’t kidnap me?” you growled, looking around. his place didn’t change a bit. you even noticed… a photo frame with the picture of you two, in high school. jeonghan had his arm around yours and…
…and looked at him with literal hearts in your eyes, the sweet scent of his skin mixed with his new cologne (which you laughed at, because as if it was supposed to draw the ladies attention).
“oh look, they’re coming!” jeonghan said and pointed in some direction, causing your body to jerk more towards him.
“you’re acting like a couple” seungkwan, who just arrived, made a disgusted face.
“and what, are you jealous or something?” you grinned and leaned away, your heart almost ripping out of your chest.
“–you. and now, obviously, you’re not listening. god! why did i even bother?” his voice makes you snap back to reality as you shift your gaze towards him.
“you’re done overreacting? can i go home now?” you sigh and plan on taking your bag back but he’s faster, ducks.
“no, listen to me. you’re overworked. you need to rest. and you’re not going to rest at your place because i know your stupidly stubborn ass” he snaps, taking the bag off his shoulder.
“and you’re the one to talk! as if you know what would i do! you’re being ridiculous” you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose “this whole situation is ridiculous, actually”
“you’d study but your brain is exhausted so you’d end up as crying mess, just lol earlier” jeonghan explained slowly, the soft thud of your bag making you open your eyes. well, he was right. it’s not like it hasn’t happened before… “have you even eaten a proper meal?”
“a ra–“
“ramyeons and pizza doesn’t count” he interrupted you, dead serious.
“this is an invasion of personal space. goodbye” you huffed and turned around on your heel. you’ve had enough. screw the bag. you just wanted to go to sleep.
“listen to me–”
“no! you’ve been an asshole to me since we started collage and suddenly, now, you care? i’m tired, hann–” the nickname almost slipped out of your lips but he interrupted you, causing you to realise your mistake.
“that’s exactly the thing, y/n. you’re tired. let me take care of you” he took a step closer, pure care in his eyes.
you were shocked, to say at least.
“i messed up. i know. but i’m genuinely concerned about you” he hummed.
“as a friend or as as in “you slipped, why do you have worse grades than me?”” you crossed your arms.
“get changed. i still might have some of your old clothes” was all he said before he headed to his kitchen.
you gave in. because what were you supposed to do, honestly?
his bedroom changed, though. all the posters stayed the same, even some pictures of you two (it’s not like you threw them out, neither). but it was more minimalistic – fewer furniture, the old armchair gone. new bookshelves to stack the academic textbooks and some plants.
you were surprised to see that he kept his “y/n drawer”.
jeonghan opened his closet and a drawer at the very right side of it. you watched him curiously and then he turned around, throwing a pair of baggy pants and oversized t-shirt (that was probably his hit you couldn’t tell because it was so worn out that the design came off).
“why do you have my clothes, weirdo?” you scrunched your nose in a joking manner and then he threw clean socks at you.
“it’s the y/n drawer. i swear you leave so much stuff here that i had to make separate drawer for it” he shrugged and closed it, a small smile on his lips.
“can we talk like normal people now?”
you turned around and saw that he was holding a steaming bowl of soup.
“why didn’t you knock? what if i was naked?” you hissed. jeonghan rolled his eyes and put the soup on his desk.
“y/n, eat. i’ll use the fact that your mouth is stuffed and you can’t talk back” he sent you a smirk and you sat down, opening your mouth in awe “yes, it’s my mom’s chicken soup. eat”
and you didn’t have to be told twice. you loved this soup, it tasted amazing but also – recalled a lot of good memories.
“i think it’s the time we talk about us. it’s a right place and time. and i feel… bad” jeonghan said slowly, carefully observing you. he knew you like a back of his hand, he could tell what you were thinking “i know i’ve been an asshole but i have a reason for that. it’s stupid, but i do”
you frowned and he scoffed.
“but that’s for later because now i want to apologise. i have a feeling i was partly a cause of your bad mental state. and i want to help you” he walked up, leaning against the desk “i want you to take care of yourself. i promise i won’t bug you anymore. i just want to make sure you’ve eaten and slept for a while, just for once”
“i’ve slept well” you mumbled and put away the bowl.
“yeah, sure. at the bags under your eyes just decided to show up for me? or is there someone else?” he teased, crossing his arms.
you felt the soup’s warmth spread in your body, making you feel… fuzzy. and cosy. and sleepy.
“shut up–” you mumbled and noticed a mirror on his desk. you grabbed it to look at yourself but he snatched it without saying a word “what the–”
“you look perfect. now lay down” he gestured over to the bed and you sighed, following “and listen to me now because i bet you will doze off the second your head hits the pillow”
“no i won’t!” you smacked his arm and he just scoffed.
“i preferred when you didn’t talk” jeonghan hummed and as he tucked you in, a swirl of butterflies took over your stomach. then he sat down next to you, thinking about something.
“i’m sorry” you sighed “i’m just tired and confused if you’re not gonna laugh at me tomorrow. yes, i’m probably exhausted and overworked… so sorry that you have to handle me”
“what?” he breathed out, eyes widening “don’t even say that. besides, we’ve been through worse. i can’t get tired of you, even if you are a menace sometimes”
you frowned looking at him.
“then why…”
jeonghan’s large hand cupped your cheek. your eyes widened and you suddenly felt how warm your cheeks was. but was it the soup or him? you had no idea.
“because i like you. i realised it when we started collage. when you went on a date with this– … and we had this huge fight, remember?” he sighed, embarrassed. obviously you remembered.
you opened your mouth in shock, shaking your head.
“let me make this clear: you’re pissed because i went on a date? you don’t even know him! jimin is the sweetest guy i’ve ever met!” you grunted “and you can’t even defend yourself properly!”
“i just don’t like him, that’s all” he said, jaw clenching.
“and i don’t like when a cheesecake has raisins in it! you’re childish, jeonghan. don’t talk to me unless you grow up” you hissed and walked out of the door.
“oh”
he laughed at your reaction and took his hand back.
“it’s because… well, let me make this clear, jimin is nice. but just… back at the time i realised i liked you. more than a friend. i liked you– hell, i loved you.” he let out a dry chuckle, making your heart skip a beat “i still do. but i was so pissed and jealous that you went out with him...”
“jeonghan” you chocked out, shifting so you could sit normally “this is the reason you’ve been such an asshole?”
“listen, i’m not proud of it. but i saw you today and i realised that… if i love you, i should be there for you. to help you when you struggle. no matter if you date me or someone else. but i did exactly the opposite. i’m so sorry” he whispered, looking you in the eye.
“look at me–”
“and i feel so ashamed of myself–”
“jeonghan–”
“i failed you–”
“can you stop interrupting me and listen for a while?” you laughed and he just rolled his eyes.
“now you see how i felt just while ago–”
you leaned in and pecked his lips gently. you probably tasted like chicken soup but you couldn’t care less. the feeling of his lips against yours, even for a brief second, made your heart skip a beat.
he leaned away, eyes widening.
“was there something in that soup or…?” jeonghan asked, cheeks slightly flushed.
“no. it was delicious by the way. but i forgive you. because the reason i’ve distanced myself was the same. i loved you, i still do. i assumed you hated me so i wanted to get over you. i thought that if i hated you, the feelings will go away. but they didn’t, jeonghan” you explained, leaning your back against the headboard.
“i’ve been such a fool. but that doesn’t matter anymore. i’m just glad to have you back” he whispered and closed you in a tight hug, the smell of his cologne making you melt into his touch.
“me too, hannie”
“i missed that. i missed you” he mumbled and leaned away after pecking your cheek “if you love me does that mean i can kiss you whenever i want?”
“i’d prefer to be called your girlfriend but i guess the kissing part doesn’t sound so bad” you rolled your eyes and he grinned, placing a soft kiss on top your head.
“shut up. and go to sleep, you do need that” jeonghan hummed, standing up to give you space. but you grabbed his hand and the way you looked at him melted his heart.
“can you stay with me though? you snore like an old man but i guess i wanna be close to you” you mumbled, tugging his hand.
and obviously he gave in.
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi
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landosgirl97 · 2 years
Text
Crying in Miami- Chase Stokes
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A/N: Based on the song above, thanks to @pankowforlife for finding it for me! I really am proud of this one so I hope you guys enjoy it!
I was getting ready to go out with my friends for the first time in months, scrolling through photos from Chase and I on previous nights we had gone out in Miami. “Dude, stop killing yourself! He’s not going to come back! It was ONE week.” My friend said, fighting to take my phone out of my hand. “It was the best week of my life Mel, I swear that was the most fun I’d had in years.” She shook her head, “he is already back in LA, you know this. Back with his ex and moving on. You should too.” She places a comforting hand on my shoulder as I out my phone in my purse, heading out.
—-----
“Chase stop!” I laughed as he tickled my sides, taking me down to the bed with him. “I can’t! It’s too much fun to mess with you!” I hop off the bed and grab his phone to take a picture as he stands on the bed, flipping me off with both hands and a huge smile on his face. “Alright let’s go! I want to go before all the VIP tables are taken”, his friends said. I roll my eyes, grabbing his hand and following behind him. It was a beautiful spring evening so he wrapped his arms around me as we waited for our Uber to pick us up.
We made it back to the hotel, stumbling as usual given the bottle service we had taken advantage of. Chase and I crawled into bed, stripping out of our clothes and making out softly as we felt each other up. He intertwined our hands and buried his face in my neck, kissing it softly. “I never want to live without you..” I mumbled, hoping he hadn’t heard. He obviously did though, because his head popped up soon after. “Wait, really?” I nod, “Seriously. I’ll go wherever you go.” He kissed me passionately and pulled away, “you’ll never have to.”
—---
I was pulled out of my daydream by my phone going off. 
@hichasestokes posted a photo
I slowly opened the notification and saw that he posted a selfie, hair wet, his signature pouty lips and the lights casting shadows on his beautiful face. The sun was just starting to set in LA, bringing out the orange and gold flecks in his gorgeous eyes as he looked at the camera. I sigh as I close my phone, wishing as every second goes by that I could see those beautiful eyes in person. Knowing that he was almost 3,000 miles away made my eyes fill with tears. I fought them off as we pulled up to the club and straightened my dress, waiting for my friends to get out as well. I immediately went to the bar, ordering the strongest drink I could think of and opening a tab. My only goal was to get drunk and hopefully get him off my mind. 
—--
I woke up to a letter on the nightstand that next morning. “Dear Y/N, I’m sorry I left on short notice. I’ll be back soon and we will take that drive to see the sunrise on the coast that you wanted. I can’t wait to come back and see you. This is so hard, but I couldn’t wake you. You looked so beautiful and peaceful. Goodbye, see you soon. Sincerely, Chase.”
—---
After a few drinks, I stuck my hand in my clutch, hand touching the piece of signature paper from his moleskin journal and his beautiful handwriting scrawled across it, and pulled it out. I looked at it for a few minutes before I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hi, would you like to dance?” A blonde man asked me. He was cute, no comparison to Chase, but cute, so I said yes and followed him to the dancefloor. I had fun for a while, moving around the dancefloor, having fun before he tried to pull me closer to him. I let him for a second until I realized they weren’t the hands I wanted. I realized that these hands were cold and clammy and soft, whereas the ones I want are warm, calloused and rough. I wanted Chase and nobody else. I excused myself, stepping outside to get some air. I pulled the letter back out of my bag, holding it in my hands and rereading it over and over as I finally let the tears spill over. “Please come back.. Please” I whimper, holding the letter close as I cried harder. 
“Y/N?” I heard from behind me, thinking it was the man I had been dancing with, I replied, “I just need a few minutes alone, please go back inside!” I felt someone sit next to me, he grabbed my arm softly and I immediately knew it was the man from inside. “Please, leave me be. I really don’t want to be with you right now!” When he didn’t leave, I begged again, “Please, LEAVE!” As he reached out for me again, I felt him be yanked back. “She said no dude, go back inside.” I’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice that was attached to the man in my memories that broke my heart. “Fine man, geez.” The guy got up to leave and went inside without a look back in my direction. I looked down at my feet, trying to force my tears to dry themselves. 
He reached for the letter in my hand and grabbed it from me, sighing. “I’m so sorry…” he said. I sniffled and looked at him. “You didn’t answer my calls, or texts, you just didn’t seem to care that you broke me, so why are you here?” “Because I do care. I feel horrible for the way I treated you and I was miserable too so I came back. I had to make it right and see you.” I scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than this. I hope you know that.” He nods, “I do, and I’m willing to do what it takes. I miss you Y/N and I promised to take you with me and I will from now on. No more letters or leaving in the middle of the night.” I just nod and wipe the mascara off my face. Chase smiles at me. “Now let’s get your drunk ass some McDonald’s and go watch the sunrise?” I smile at him and nod. “Yes please.”
Tag List: @pankowforlife @wannabestarkeysgirl @my-baexht-ls @bethoconnor @samxslaughter @tishanas-darlings @jjmaybank63 @outerbankspov @slutforsmutsstuff @hoebx @adventuresinobx
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deaconsleatherpants · 2 years
Note
#27 for Monty or #35 for Shelton 👀 or vice versa, you don’t have to do both I just couldn’t decide 🥴
Situation Prompts | @bizghetti
Here, you get both 😌 (under a cut because it's pretty long)
Monty, #27 (A letter is on the table waiting for you)
The house was dark when you got home from work, hungry and your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. It had just been one of those long days that made you want to bury your face into Monty’s chest, or at least a nest of blankets, and never leave. 
Flipping on the switch and wincing as the bright fluorescent lights flickered to life overhead, you glanced longingly towards the fridge. You really didn’t have the energy to cook tonight, and the thought of the mess and dishes you would end up with afterwards was enough to make you wonder if you should just order something in. Then again, that still left the question of what to order, and you were just so tired.
Your stomach growled loudly, reminding you that you did have to make some kind of decision here. 
That was when you saw the note left on the table, just a few lines neatly penned on a piece of notebook paper that was propped up against a tissue box. 
Dinner is in the fridge. I know you had to work late tonight - don’t worry about the time. Call me.
-Monty
A small heart was drawn underneath, and the sweetness of the gesture - it was so very Monty, after all - brought a smile to your lips. 
“Monty?” you called out as you walked over to the fridge, hopeful that he might still be in the house. But there was no response, and when you pulled open the fridge, there it was, a plate covered by layered sheets of aluminum foil and plastic wrap. It was still warm when you pulled it out; you’d just missed him, then. 
Then you looked closer at the kitchen, and saw there were dishes drying in a rack beside the sink, the garbage freshly taken out. You really were a lucky one, weren’t you? He was always doing these little thoughtful things that made you fall so effortlessly in love with the man, deeper and deeper with every day that passed. 
He picked up the phone on the second ring - good, so you hadn’t woken him, then. 
“I love you,” you said instantly, sliding the plate of food into the microwave. You could hear the laughter in his voice when he answered, and even after so many months, it still made your heart flutter. “I love you too.”
“Thank you. You’re very sweet.” You watched the plate as it spun on the turntable. “You’re welcome. Want to tell me about your day?”
Suddenly you weren’t so tired anymore, and even though you were only listening to his voice, it felt as though a million weights had been taken off your shoulders.
Shelton, #35 (Something is wrong but you don't know what)
Whenever Shelton slept beside you, you heard things in the night, just the usual murmurs of “my fuckin’ money” and “bloody idiots” while his brow furrowed in midnight irritation. It was a constant with him, and it was also endearing. 
This night, though, Shelton just lay there in silence, to the point where you began to suspect that he hadn’t fallen asleep at all. But he thought you were asleep, with your face curled into his side like that - he brushed a lock of hair off your cheek, and kissed your forehead in a rare show of his affection for you. It was sweet, but it was also unexpected of him, and you wondered if everything was alright.
After a moment he sat up beside you in the bed; you opened your eyes and reached for him automatically, but your hand only had time to brush briefly against his forearm before he was gone, hurrying out of the room without so much as a glance in your direction. Something was obviously wrong, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. 
Maybe it would have been wise to leave Shelton be when he was in this kind of mood. Maybe it would have been wise, but you cared too much about him for that, so you were up in a flash too, following him into the living room.  
He was pacing back and forth by the window, cramming various things into a briefcase and intermittently staring out into the gloom, looking distinctly worried. He barely spared you a look as you approached. 
“Shelton?” You probed, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand. 
All he answered was an ominous “I need to leave,” and even when you pressed him for further details he didn’t elaborate. But you were pretty sure you knew exactly what he meant, just from those four words alone. You’d long worried that one day he’d decide the only way to keep you safe was to withdraw from you, and you couldn’t bear the thought of it. 
“So you thought you’d just sneak out like some kind of thief in the night?”
He looked up, halfway through stuffing a pair of pants into his bag. “It’s for your own fucking good!”
You shook your head, because as much as you loved him, you were not about to let him decide what was best for you. Especially if that meant the possibility of him leaving your life forever.
“I chose this life when I chose you.” You took his hand, and surprisingly he let you, staring down blankly at where your fingers wrapped around his. 
“Yeah, but did you have any clue the kind of shit you were getting yourself into?” He looked cynical, and for a moment you couldn’t blame him. You squeezed his hand, and felt a bolt of hope when he cautiously squeezed back. 
“Maybe not. But I know now, and I still choose you.”
Shelton still looked skeptical, but at least he’d dropped the bag now, and he was looking at you. So you continued, resting your other hand on his chest and sliding it up to wrap around the back of his neck. “Please. We’ll figure this out, there are other ways to keep me safe. I know I haven’t always made it easy for you, and I’m sorry for that.” 
With a sigh, he pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head. “It was a fucking stupid idea, wasn’t it?” And then, quieter: “I’m… sorry. Shit.” Letting out a long breath, you snuggled into his embrace, comforted by the steady thump of his heart against your ear. 
“If we go back to bed, will you still be there when I wake up?”
He was, and thankfully, he was every morning after that, too.
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mimisempai · 2 years
Text
Dear Loki…. Chapter 1/7
Summary:
Loki, bored while waiting for Mobius in his office, starts to explore the drawers of his lover’s desk and finds a bunch of letters addressed to him...
Notes:
I love letters and I wanted to write the story of Mobius and Loki in the series through Mobius’ eyes for a long time. On AO3 Rating G
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"Mobius!"
Loki walked through the door of Mobius' office, but found only the empty room.
He sighed and went to sit at Mobius' desk waiting for his return and dying of boredom after a few moments, he started to open the drawers of Mobius' desk.
He smiled, amused, as he opened the first drawer, where pencils and pens were arranged by size.
He opened the second drawer and seeing that it was papers he closed it again when his eyes fell on one of the words that surprised him.
Dear Loki
He couldn't resist the temptation and pulled out the piece of paper.
As he did so he saw underneath it a lot of other papers that began with these words.
Dear Loki,
Because I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you all this so I'm writing it down on paper.
Today we met for the first time. But I feel like I've known you for so long.
When the analyst came to me to tell me that you had just been apprehended by the TVA, I thought, "Finally!
Finally I was going to be able to talk to you, get to know you, and maybe help you see who you really were.
You refused my hand in the elevator and frankly I can't blame you for that.
Loki smiled as he recalled that moment.
"I’m Agent Mobius, by the way."
"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"
"No. That’s where you just were. I’m taking you some place to talk."
Of course he had refused Mobius' hand considering his situation at that moment. He had had nothing but disdain for this little man who dared to mock him, a god.
"I don’t like to talk."
"But you do like to lie, which you just did."
"Because we both know you love to talk."
"Talkie-talkie."
Loki remembered that he had been boiling with rage inside. Not only because of Mobius' slight mocking smile, but especially because he had seen through him. Just with those few words, Mobius had shown him that he wasn't fooled by Loki. He had been able to see beyond his usual tricks and that was an unforgivable crime for Loki. 
But fortunately everything had changed.
Loki resumed his reading.
I know I hurt you and right now I have no idea how you're going to react. I hate myself for using this kind of method. I hope one day you will forgive me. All those words I said to you were mostly just to make you react, or to make you realize that the truth was not what you believed.
If you only knew how disgusted I am with myself for having to show you those images of your mother, for having put that sadness in your face and in your eyes.
Loki swallowed, the memory of Mobius' words echoing in his head and the images of his mother's death flashing before his eyes.
"You weren’t born to be king, Loki."
"You were born to cause pain and suffering and death."
"That’s how it is, that’s how it was, that’s how it will be."
"All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves."
But the bitter memory soon faded.
The fact that he was able to see his mother again and repair their relationship softened the bitterness and pain he had felt that day.
Mobius had not told him anything else at that time except what Loki already knew. Loki knew that this was what everyone thought. He was used to these words spoken in anger or disappointment. But Mobius had said it to him in a calm tone of voice, and it had stung Loki to the core.
Loki knew it now, Mobius did not believe in his own words, he had said it again and again to Loki, obviously feeling guilty about these cruel words.
And if Loki had not been convinced, the next lines of Mobius' letter would have convinced him.
You are so valuable Loki. You are worth so much more than your mistakes. If you saw yourself with my eyes you would know. You would know that I believe you are capable of great and beautiful things. And I hope to be there to see you believe in it and accomplish it.
I hope that you will be able to accept the hand that I will hold out to you despite these words between us.
I hope with all my heart that you believed my words when I told you that I didn't see you as a villain.
Loki remembered with emotion that decisive moment in his relationship with Mobius.
Of the impact of those words on all the events that followed. 
Of their impact on his life. 
Of the surprise he had felt at Mobius' words when he was expecting to receive the final blow.
"It’s the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."
"A desperate play for control."
"You do know yourself."
"A villain. "
"That’s not how I see it."
Mobius had said those few words to him and when Loki had looked up at him, he had seen that he meant them. Because never had someone looked at him with such kindness as Mobius had at that moment. It had been completely new. Even though at that moment he was still wary and full of doubt, those words from Mobius had begun to help him change. For the better.
Thinking back warmly to that moment, he resumed his reading.
In my wildest dreams, I imagine that one day we will read this letter together, or that I will be able to tell you everything I can't or don't feel entitled to tell you yet.
That we will laugh about these events.
Or cry about them.
Or that we will remember them as the foundation of our relationship, whatever it may be.
With hope.
Mobius.
Loki, moved by the depth of Mobius' feelings revealed in the letter, thoughtfully ran his thumb over the signature at the bottom of the letter.
Mobius had never once thought badly of him.
This letter was only the confirmation of what Mobius had been telling him since the beginning.
Stunned, he was about to grab the next one when the office door opened, startling him.
"Loki? Ah you're here!"
Casey had just entered.
Loki, wanting to hide what he had just done exclaimed theatrically, "Casey!!! My friend! How are you?"
Casey looked at him suspiciously before saying, "I'm fine, thanks. Mobius told me to warn you that he wouldn't be back for a few hours. Although I'm not a mailman, I came to deliver this message to you."
Loki clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Perfect! I'll wait for him here then."
Casey, long accustomed to Loki's whimsical behavior, replied, "Fine, then I'll go."
Loki smiled and waved goodbye.
Once Casey closed the door behind him, Loki sighed, "Haaa, not back for a few hours, huh? Let's see what you wrote to me, love."
He grabbed the next letter and, leaning back in the desk chair, stretched his legs out in front of him.
He began to read.
Dear Loki...
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Other chapters here
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giacomofblack · 3 years
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follow the train tracks into the next town / look for a bookstore, somewhere to sit down / i know you've got places that you run away to / leave little traces so i can find you
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sineala · 3 years
Note
How would you say fandom culture has changed over the years? What are some differences you notice between older and younger fandom folks?
I’ve been thinking for a while about how to answer this, and I’m not sure I have a really good answer, but I’m going to try.
I’ve been in fandom since approximately 1995. Maybe 1994. At that point, the world wide web was a relatively new part of the internet, and the fandoms I was in had most of their activity on privately-hosted mailing lists (predating eGroups/OneList/Yahoo Groups) and on Usenet newsgroups, with fiction beginning to be available on websites as part of either fandom-specific or pairing-specific archives as well as authors’ individual pages. Fanfiction.net did not yet exist. LiveJournal did not exist. AO3 definitely did not exist. If you wanted real-time chat, there was IRC. I was coming in basically at the tail end of zine fandom; zines were no longer the only way of distributing fanfiction, as fandom started to move online. So I have a selection of zines from 90s-era Western media fandoms but even by then zines weren’t where I was doing most of my reading.
I think in terms of generally “what it was like to be in fandom,” the big-picture stuff hasn’t changed. Fandom still produces creative fanwork and likes to, y’know, get together and talk about fandom. Also, almost every fight or complaint that fandom has about something is a thing that has been going on for actual years. People complain that, say, the kudos button is ruining comment culture because back in the LJ days the only way you could comment on a story was, well, by leaving an actual comment, or sending an email on a mailing list, and this might mean that people who would have otherwise commented have left a kudos instead. But back in the LJ and mailing list days, people were complaining that commenting was going downhill since the days of zines, when in order to comment on a story you had to write a real paper letter and mail it and because you had to do that, the quality of feedback was so much better than you got nowadays because people could just dash off a quick email or comment. You get the idea. Top/bottom wars are not new either. Pairing wars are not new. If you’ve been in fandom a while, you will pretty much have seen all the fights already. I think one thing that is new, though, is the fandom awareness of things like privilege and intersectionality and various -isms, as well as things like “providing warnings might be nice” (do you know how much unwarned deathfic I have read? a lot!) and I sure won’t say we’re perfect at any of this now, but I think fandom is trying way way more about all that stuff than it used to.
There are some fights we actually don’t have anymore, as far as I can tell. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen the “real person fiction is wrong” battle, but also I don’t hang out in a whole lot of RPF fandoms, so it’s possible that’s still going and I just don’t see it.
There also used to be a recurring debate about whether gay relationships that were canonical were slash or not. When slash started, obviously this wasn’t a question because there weren’t canonical gay relationships in fandoms, period. But as gay characters began to appear in media, people started to wonder “does slash mean all same-sex relationships, or does slash mean only non-canonical same-sex relationships?” Now, you may be reading this and think that sounds like an incredibly weird thing to get hung up on, but that’s because what appears to have happened is that the term “ship” (originally from X-Files Mulder/Scully fandom) has, as far as I can tell, come up and eaten most of the rest of the terminology. Now people will just say, “oh, I ship that.” For any pairing, gay or not, canonical or not. Fandom seems to have decided that for the most part it no longer actually needs a term specific to same-sex relationships as a genre.
Similarly, there are a few genres of fic that we used to have also pretty much don’t exist anymore. There are also plenty of genres that are well-entrenched now that are also extremely recent -- A/B/O comes to mind. But there are some kinds of fic we don’t write a lot of now. Like, I haven’t seen smarm in years! I also haven’t seen We’re Not Gay We Just Love Each Other in a while. There was also a particular style of slash writing where you’d basically have to explain, in detail, what made you think that these particular characters could be anything other than straight. You’d have to motivate this decision. You’d have to look at their canonical heterosexual relationships and come up with a way to explain why all those had happened in order to reconcile how this one guy could have romantic feelings for another guy. When had he figured out he wasn’t straight? Who might he have been with before? How does he interact with people in ways that make you think he’s not straight? That kind of thing. You had to, essentially, show your work. And these days a lot of fanfic is just like, “Okay, Captain America is bisexual, let’s go!” It’s... different.
Fandom also used to skew older, is my sense. A lot older. I don’t know, actually, if it really was older, but I get the sense now that there are some younger people who are surprised that adults are still in fandom. I have seen people saying these days that they think they’re too old for fanfiction because they are not in middle school anymore. And I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that the barriers to access fandom are a lot lower than they used to be. You used to basically have to be an adult with disposable income (or know an adult with disposable income who was willing to help you out; but even then if you were reading explicit fiction you also had to swear you were 18+, usually by sending in an age statement to whoever you were buying the zine from or to the mods of the list you wanted to join, so a lot of fandom was very much age-gated). Internet access was not widely available. Even if you had internet access, you maybe didn’t have your own email address, so you couldn’t sign up for mailing lists; free email providers didn’t exist. If you wanted to buy zines, you had to have money to buy them. If you wanted to go to cons, you had to be able to afford the cost of the con, travel to the con, et cetera. If you wanted to have a website you had to know HTML. Social media did not exist. You want to draw art? Guess what, you’re probably drawing it on paper! You might be able to upload a picture to your website if you have a digital camera or a scanner, but both of those things are expensive, and also a lot of people don’t have the capability or the money to download pictures from the internet (some people have data caps with overage charges, and some people have text-only connections!), so they won’t get to see it. Maybe you can sell your piece at a con! You want to make a fanvid? We called them songvids, but, anyway, you know how you’re doing that? You’re going to hook two VCRs together and smash the play and record buttons very fast! If you want anyone else to watch them, you are either making them a tape personally and mailing it to them or bringing your vids to a convention. Maybe you can digitize them and upload them, but it’s going to take people hours to download them!
(Every three hours my ISP would kick me off the internet and I’d have to dial in again. If it was a busy time of day, it might take me 20 or 30 minutes to get a connection again. And that was assuming no one else in the house needed to use the phone line. Imagine if your modem went out every three hours now.)
And now, for the cost of my internet connection, I can read pretty much whatever fanfiction I want, whenever I want it. I can see all the fanart I want! I can watch vids! Podfic exists now! Fanmixes exist! Gifsets and moodboards exist! If I want to write fic I can write it with programs that are completely free, and as soon as I post it everyone in the entire world can read it. If I want to draw or make vids that may require some additional investment, but I may also be able to do it with things I already have. Do you have any idea how good we all have it?
There are a couple of kinds of fan activity that don’t seem to exist anymore, though, and I miss them. I know that roleplaying still goes on, but I feel like these days most people who do real-time text roleplay have switched to things like Discord. I know that in the LJ days, RP communities were popular. But I really miss MU*s (MUDs, MUSHes, MOOs, MUXes..), which were servers for real-time text-based RP with a bunch of... hmm... features to aid RP. There were virtual rooms with text descriptions, and objects in virtual rooms with descriptions, and your character had a description, and they could interact with the objects as well as with other characters, and you could program things to change descriptions or emit various kinds of text or take you to different rooms, and so on. Just to, y’know, enhance the atmosphere. It was fun and it was where I learned to RP and I’m sad they’re pretty much gone now.
I also don’t think I see a lot of fanfiction awards in fandoms. Wonder where they went.
Going back to the previous point, the barriers to actually consuming the canon you are fannish about are way, way, way lower now. You can pretty much take it for granted that if right now someone tells you about a shiny new fandom, there will be a way to read that book or watch that show or movie right now. Possibly for free! Of course you can watch it! Why wouldn’t you be able to?
This was absolutely, absolutely not the case before. I’m currently in Marvel Comics fandom. If there is a comic I want to read, I can read it right now on the internet. I have subscribed to Marvel Unlimited and I can read pretty much every comic that is older than three months old; the newer ones cost extra money. But I can do it all from the comfort of my own home right now. I was also, actually, in Marvel Comics fandom in the nineties. If I wanted to read a comic, I had to go to a comic book store and hope they had it in stock; if they didn’t, I had to try another store. Not a lot of comics were available in trade paperback and they definitely weren’t readable on the internet. I used to read a lot of Gambit h/c fic set after Uncanny X-Men #350. I never found a copy of UXM #350. I still haven’t! But I did eventually read it on Unlimited.
Being in TV show fandoms also had similar challenges. Was the show you were watching still on the air? No? Then you’d better hope you could find it in reruns, or know someone who had tapes of it that they could copy for you, otherwise you weren’t watching that show. It was, I think, pretty common for people to be in fandoms for shows they hadn’t seen, because they had no way to see the show, but they loved all the fanfic. The Sentinel had a whole lot of fans like that, both because I think it took a while for it to end up in reruns and because overseas distribution was probably poor. So you’d get people who read the fic and wrote fic based on the other fic they’d read, which meant that you got massive, massive amounts of fanon appearing that people just assumed was in the show because it was a weirdly specific detail that appeared in someone’s fic once. Like “Jim and Blair’s apartment has a small water heater” (not actually canonical) or “Blair is a vegetarian” (there’s an episode where his mother visits and IIRC cooks him one of his favorite meals, which is beef tongue).
Like, I was in The Professionals fandom for years. I read all the fic. I hadn’t seen the show. As far as I know, it never aired in the US, and it certainly never had any kind of US VHS or DVD release. I’d seen a couple songvids. I eventually saw a couple episodes in maybe 2003, and that was because my dad special-ordered a commercial VHS tape from the UK and paid someone to convert it from PAL to NTSC. I didn’t get to see the whole show until several years later when I got a region-free DVD player someone in fandom sent me burned copies of the UK DVD releases and then I special-ordered the commercial release of the DVDs from the UK myself. But if I were a new fan and wanted to watch Pros right now? It is on YouTube! For free!
I think also one of the things about fandom that’s not immediately evident to new fans is the way in which it is permanent and/or impermanent. There are probably people whose first fannish experience is on Tumblr or who only read fanfic on FFN and who have no idea what they would do if either site, say, just shut down. But if you’ve been in fandom a while, you’ve been through, say, Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, Pillowfort, Imzy, DW, JournalFen, LJ, GeoCities, IRC, mailing lists. And sure, if Tumblr closed, it would be inconvenient. But fandom would pack up and move somewhere else. You would find it again. It would, eventually, be okay. Similarly, if you’ve been in a lot of fandoms, if you’ve made a lot of friends, drifting through fandoms is like that. You’ll make a friend in 1998 because you were in the same fandom, and then you might go your own ways, and ten years later you might be in another fandom with them again! It happens.
But the flip side of that is that I think a lot of older fans have learned not to trust in the permanence of any particular site. If you like a story, you save it as soon as you read it. If you like a piece of art, you save it. If you like a vid, you save it. Because you don’t know when the site it’s on will be gone for good. I have, like, twenty years of lovingly-curated fanfic. And I feel like people who have only been in fandom since AO3 existed might not understand how much AO3 is a game-changer compared to what we had before. It’s a site where you can put your fic up and you don’t have to worry that the webhost is going out of business, or that the site might delete your work because they don’t allow gay fiction or explicit fiction or fiction written in second person or fiction for fandoms where the creator doesn’t like fanfiction, or whatever. Because all of those things have absolutely happened. But, I mean, I still save pretty much everything I like, even on AO3, just in case.
So, basically, yeah, fandom is a whole lot more accessible than it used to be. I think fandom is pretty much still fandom, but it’s a lot easier to get into, and that has made it way more open to people who wouldn’t have been able to be in fandom before. There is so, so much more now than there ever was before, and I think that’s great.
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chiruba · 3 years
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JJK BOYS' BEING SCARED TO CONFESS !
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an. thank u for 100 + followers!! <3 holy fuck inumaki’s was hard to write bc of the letter LOL also heres to hopin my tags actu work for this post
ft. gojo, inumaki x gn!reader
wc. 1.2k
genre. fluff, angst if u squint in gojo's
► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►
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GOJO SATORU ►
— OK so usually i wouldn't imagine him as being scared to confess
— but,
— if he really likes you, i think his hidden insecurities will start comin out
— yes, gojo is the strongest sorcerer
— but even the strongest sorcerer can't save everyone
— he knows you'll be targeted if you're openly with him
— so gojo represses his feelings as best as he can
— which for some reason involves him -
— flirting with you one day
— and then completely ignoring your existence the next
— eventually you just get tired of it
"satoru!" you yell, surprising yourself from the sheer volume of your voice. it's clear he knew you were coming, but you still see the way his shoulders tense when you call his name. gojo at least has the decency to stop, and you're unsure if it's because he doesn't want to risk making you angrier, or if this is one of the days' he'll actually talk to you. you huff in anger before gripping his wrist to spin him around, and you can tell he's avoiding your eyes despite the black blindfold around his eyes.
"well?" you ask, tone cold and straightforward. gojo decides to take a glance at you, and sees you standing there with crossed arms, looking at him like a disappointed parent. "are you going to stop giving me the cold shoulder and tell me what's going on? i'm not in the mood to play some childish game, gojo." the use of his family name coming from you makes his heart ache, and he panics at the thought of you being genuinely angry and upset at him rather than mildly annoyed.
"i'm not playing some game," he says, and you feel yourself straighten up at the seriousness in his voice. your eyebrows furrow together in concern as you try to think of your last few interactions with gojo. he hadn't been acting this way with anyone else but you (you know because you'd asked nanami, and nanami knew all), and if this wasn't some game he was playing, had you done something to make him upset? the thought makes you feel guilty, remembering how you'd scolded him like a child just moments earlier. was it the joke about his forehead? surely he'd know you hadn't meant it, no matter how true it was-
"i love you-"
"your forehead isn't that small-"
...what?
you blinked at him once, then twice, then thrice, and then a fourth just to make sure you really weren't dreaming right now. your best friend of years, with his cocky attitude, cute dumb jokes and flirty remarks that made your face heat and heart race was in love with you? gojo lifted his blindfold suddenly, cocking an eyebrow up at you.
"hey! what about my forehead?-"
"i like you, too." you breathed out, voice shaky with either excitement or nervousness, you couldn't choose. gojo stared at you with those ocean coloured eyes of his, and then broke out into a grin.
"hmm?" you braced yourself, already knowing gojo's incessable adorable teasing was coming, "i don't exactly think i said like, did i?"
INUMAKI TOGE ►
— i def see inumaki being more scared to confess
— 1. because he can't think of a proper way to tell you his feelings
— a text just doesn't feel personal enough or embed his true feelings
— which leaves inumaki in a dilemma
— obviously, panda is quick to catch onto inumaki's feelings
— when he learns about inumaki's dilemma, he just bursts out laughing
— panda offers him the very simple solution - write a damn letter
— inumaki was so caught up in his feelings he literally just did not Think of it.
— spends hours writing the letter and tearing up it several times while also rehearsing how and where he would give it to you
— until the moment actually came, and all inumaki could do was shove the letter into your hands, yell tuna mayo, and run away.
— … yeah
your early sunday mornings had started consisting of heading down to the field every tokyo jujutsu school student used as early as your first week as a first-year, causing you to quickly develop a routine - get changed into your gym clothes, head down to the field earlier on to relax before maki kicked your ass, and then rush back to the dorms for a shower. except this time, you were pleasantly surprised to see that halfway through your routine, you were met with the familiar cute face of a fellow student, cursed speech user inumaki toge.
"inumaki?" you say, giving him a smile before slowing down your own steps to allow him time to catch up, watching as he sped to you. "you're up early for once," you teased, knowing how grumpy he can get without his allocated sleeping time. once inumaki catches up to you, you continue walking on, fully expecting inumaki to just continue alongside you. only for him to catch you off guard completely, gently spinning you around to face him once more.
seeing inumaki up close, you quickly take notice of the flush of red on his cheeks, popping out from under his collar, along with the sudden dark eye circles. inumaki's breathing is muffled, but loud enough for you to hear he's panting, the rapid rising and falling of his chest confirming it. you furrow your eyebrows in concern, also noting the way inumaki had practically sprinted to you moments before for no reason, along with the absence of his usual cheery - "kelp!"- greeting.
"inumaki?" you say once more, your tone both obviously worried and confused, "are you feeling okay?-" you have to practically plant your feet into the ground to stop from stumbling back when inumaki shoves something into your hand suddenly, only realising its a slip of paper when you feel it crinkle in your palm after an experimental squeeze. you look back at inumaki for even just a hint of an explanation, and instead all you get is -
"tuna mayo!" he yells, and then takes off running. you're left in a daze as you watch inumaki's figure become more and more distant, and only when you can no longer see him do you remember the paper currently crinkled up in your hands. the first thing you notice are the little onigiris drawn on the top of the paper, an inumaki staple as you'd like to call it. this time, the onigiris have blush streaks on their 'cheeks' as they hold hands, a single heart bouncing off their heads.
to you,
toge here! obviously i know it's not february anymore, as you (probably? lolol dumbas) know, but panda i'm tired of letting my chances slip past me.
there are so many things i want to say to you every day, but now that i'm here i don't even know where to start, so i'm just going to say it properly. i like you like a shitton. i wish i could say this to you properly, if i had the confidence if i could, i would scream my love for you to the world. i may not be your first date, kiss or love, but i want to be your last, just as i hope you'll be mine.
there are thousands of other things i want to say to you, but i'll save it until i get your reply. please don't feel pressured to accept me, no matter what, you'll always have a special place in my heart, my first love.
from hopefully yours,
toge inumaki. 🍙
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ill give u a kiss goodnight if u reblog <3 
©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years
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𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞
Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.
Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing too explicit, scenes containing violence and kidnappings.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
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Hongjoong could already sense that something was off the moment he noticed the door wasn't locked and even more worrying was the fact it was slightly ajar. Quickly taking out his gun just in case, he kicked open the door and widened his eyes as it appeared like some struggle took place. Chairs were turnt over, busted picture frames and glass scattered across the floor, and even more terrifying, droplets of blood were seen.
"Y/N!" He quickly remembered about his spouse.
Running into the bedroom, it was in an even bigger disarray than the living room. On the bed, there was a note folded for him to read. Carefully opening it with trembling hands, his eyes took in each letter. Furiously, he crumbled up the paper and quickly dialed his most trusted friend.
"Get the squad ready."
Although you expected that sooner or later you'd be targeted just for the fact you were married to Hongjoong, nothing could have prepared you for it. After all, Hongjoong didn't seem to care much about you, treating your marriage strictly like a business deal and hardly interacting with you. It wouldn't have surprised you if he didn't even care enough to show up and save you.
But you were wrong when he broke in himself and got you safely out of there, despite having suffered quite a few injuries that had you worrying.
"Stop fretting over it, it's just a scratch." He told you when you tried to wipe the blood trickling down the side of his head wound.
"I'm sorry......you're hurt because I-"
"No one is to blame here but me. I chose to go after you and rescue you because I wanted to. If anything, I should be apologizing for getting you in this situation in the first place."
Sighing softly, you tugged at the dirtied sleeves of your shirt.
"It's not like it's really your fault. We were thrown together and naturally they thought they could get the upper hand if they captured me. And to be honest.....you didn't have to save me. I know you don't care about-"
With a loud gasp, you shut up when Hongjoong unexpectedly sat up and kissed you. You were stunned to react and even more shocked by his next words.
"I always cared. And that's precisely why you were kidnapped. From the start, I acted as if I didn't care about you to protect you. They would have never taken you if they thought that I had no regards for you whatsoever. However, I obviously couldn't hide my feelings that well, given the taunting letter they left me. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to get you back to me as soon as possible."
Kissing the top of your forehead, Hongjoong smiled at you for the first time in your marriage life.
"And I'm happy to take you back to our home, where you rightfully belong."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
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Putting the finishing touches on your makeup and fixing your hair, you beamed with joy at your reflection in the mirror. You felt truly beautiful and walked out into the living room, where your handsome husband was currently on his phone, no doubt talking about some business things with Hongjoong. He seemed to always be busy, never having any time for anything else.
Including you, which somewhat hurt you.
"I'm ready." You told him, shyly tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you hoped he'd like the dress you were wearing, choosing a blue color since you knew it was his favorite.
"Ok. Go wait out in the limousine, I'll be there shortly."
Barely even giving you a glance, he dialed Hongjoong up and continued to further discuss some matters. Sighing softly, you walked rather disappointed out to the car, slamming the door behind you. When Seonghwa joined you a few minutes later, you didn't even care to hide your anger and frustration at him. You still had a scowling look on your face when you arrived at the party, not bothering this time to stick by Seonghwa's side like you usually did other times, playing the role of a perfect and loving wife. And Seonghwa neither noticed nor cared about it. In fact, he never really hid how little your marriage seemed to matter to him. Perhaps he treated it as any other business he owned.
"Such a pity to see such a beautiful lady look so down during such a lovely evening."
Recognizing the voice as Minho, a friend of Seonghwa, you forced a small smile.
"Not really much to be happy about really." You merely stated.
"Is your oh so loving hubby being the usual prince charming he is?" He rolled his eyes, knowing full well just like everyone else how he really treated you.
"What difference does it make? He'll never even look at me."
Unable to let the opportunity go to waste, even if it was his friend, Minho gently caressed your cheek.
"You know....... maybe you should stop trying so hard for a jerk like him....and maybe open your eyes to someone who actually knows you exist."
You were frozen when he leaned in to kiss you, then gasped loudly when none other than Seonghwa pushed him off you, sending Minho crashing onto one of the tables behind him.
"She is my wife! And the next time you touch her, I will cut your hand off!" He warned him.
You didn't even have time to process what was happening as Seonghwa dragged you outside, his grip on your wrist tight and fierce. When you reached the car, you were going to ask him what was going on but you had no time as he pressed you against the car and began to kiss you fervently and hungrily. You were left speechless and breathless, with your legs getting weak as he let out low snarls in between his kisses on your neck.
"Mine.......you're all mine."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
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Both Yunho and you were beyond nervous at this point, hell you actually felt somewhat terrified. You knew exactly what his parents wanted when they organized this 'family vacation'. This wasn't a getaway to spend time together and they made it obviously clear at dinner when you came back from the bathroom and overheard him arguing with his parents.
"You know I can't ask her to do that!" Yunho adamantly said.
"You've been married for over a year Yunho. It's time and you know it." His mother insisted.
"I will not impregnate her. Have you ever considered her feelings? Maybe she doesn't want kids. Maybe I don't want kids, have you ever thought of that?" He asked them, voice getting more agitated.
"It's both of your duties to produce heirs to keep control and stability in the organization. Your life is at risk on a daily basis. If you die with no children it'll only cause chaos and disruption." His father reminded him.
That was the one thing you dreaded facing since the day you said "I do", having to be forced to become nothing more than a baby maker. Yunho knew from the beginning how uncomfortable you were during your first night together, that's why he ended up sleeping in another room, as he had done every day afterwards, not wanting you to freak out and giving you your space.
But now you both stared at the single king sized bed in your hotel room, reality staring you in the face. Neither of you said a word as you took turns changing and getting ready to go to sleep in the bathroom, Yunho letting you go first. As you crept into the bed, your hands tightly held onto the blanket, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, unaware of anything until you felt the bed shift next to you. You inhaled sharply when you felt Yunho's fingers caress your hair.
"Y/N-"
"Just get it over with will you?! Just knock me up and make your parents happy. I don't care anymore."
Although you tried to sound strong, the tremble in your voice gave you away. You could feel tears starting to well up in your eyes. When Yunho moved to hover above you, you instantly shut your eyes, tears lightly spilling out. You could feel his breath ghost over your lips and then suddenly they moved as he planted the gentlest of kiss on your forehead.
"Good night my dear. I promise I won't take up too much space."
Confused you open your eyes and watched as Yunho turned on his side, facing away from you as he scooted to give you as much room as he possibly could.
"I don't...I don't understand why..." You didn't even know what you were asking at this point.
"I'm not going to be that asshole that will make you do something you're not prepared for. I respect, value and admire you too much to make you go through that. I'll just wait until you're ready."
You weren't going to deny that your heart fluttered at his words.
"But your parents-"
"They can suck it. I've lived this long, I think I'll be fine. They can wait like I'm willing to wait. The only downside is putting up with their bullshit and nagging for disobeying them...."
You could tell he was falling asleep by the way his voice started to mumble and lower in tone, and his tiny yawn made it more obvious. You were prepared for his cute tiny rambling but you didn't expect what he said next.
"But that's what I get for falling in love with you..."
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
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Yeosang stared out the spacious window of his office, the glittering city lights looking as splendid as they did every night, bustling with sounds of the inhabitants coming out to party and overall enjoy life. They seemed to be mocking him, mocking him for being happy while he felt miserable and empty inside.
It had been hours since you had already left, your plane had probably already landed back to your hometown and you were now ready to settle into your new life....away from him. He couldn't stop replaying the argument you had just a day ago:
"Can't you at least pretend to care?" You spat out, dropping your fork against the plate of food in front of you.
"If you know what I'm like, why even ask?" Was his only reply.
"Yes I know what you're like! You're cold, stoic, soulless and have no regards for anyone's feelings but your own! Being married to you all these years, I know you better than anyone! But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you not caring enough to even try." She could feel her voice starting to crack.
Letting out a deep sigh, Yeosang pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"From the beginning, you knew what you were getting in to. We didn't get married because we were a couple of lovestruck fools wanting to vow our lives to each other. Our parents arranged it and we had no choice. If you were stupid enough to catch feelings well then..."
Finally lifting his gaze to look at you, his eyes were unwavering as he coldly declared:
"That's not my fault. And you can't expect me to reciprocate your feelings when I don't even have any to begin with."
Not taking anymore, you began crying tears of heartbreak, anger, frustration and indignation all at the same time. Standing up, you firmly declared your intent of going back home, not willing to put up or stay with him anymore.
"Ok."
Not even a goodbye, a farewell or even another look at you. Those were his final words before you stormed out and made preparations to leave as soon as possible. Yeosang had spent the entire day pacing back and forth, unable to think or do anything except look at the clock almost every hour. He had been counting the seconds since your flight was scheduled to leave, that's how he knew you were home by then.
He cursed himself for being a coward. For not speaking up and telling you how much you actually meant to him, how scared he was of his feelings for you, and most of all, he hated himself for not running out to stop you. Now you were gone from his life forever........ unless....
"Get my plane ready."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
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San and you didn't even meet each other until you were both standing at the altar, families ready to join together two criminal organizations to grow their power even further. Both of you looked at each and instantly felt what the other was feeling: shock, denial, insecurity, but most of all, fear. Both of you were afraid of what was going to happen. Though he was trembling just as much as you, San made sure to reach for your hand, squeezing it in his own. With that small gesture, you knew and felt what he was silently saying:
"We're going to get through this together. Just trust me and believe in me. I'll take care of you. You're not alone in this and I'll be right there by your side."
You two got along fairly well, even if there was still awkwardness between the two of you. You were both also still shy around each other that you wouldn't talk unless it was necessary or because something caught one or the other's attention and wanted to share their thoughts out loud, which the other one would try to enthusiastically add on to converse more, but it always ended in awkward laughter.
Yeah. It was extremely awkward. But at least there was no hostility between you two and you guys did enjoy watching movies together at times, hardly speaking a word, but there was no silence at all. You could read each other's minds and feelings all the time. It was truly strange how in tune your thoughts seemed to be at times and scary too. Your mind began to recall times when strange things happened like the time you were craving a certain food and coincidentally, San came later with the exact same food because he got a feeling you wanted some. Or the time you were supposed to go visit extended family but in the end didn't get on the train and went straight home because you felt San needed you. He thought you were crazy, but later that night he was burning up with a fever and you spent your weekend nursing him back to health.
"What did this all mean?" You both thought to yourselves.
"A soulmate is someone that just gets you. It's a connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It's about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side." The actress in the movie you were watching said.
Suddenly everything seemed to click. At the moment both of you felt like the answer to your questions were finally answered. Slowly you both turned and faced one another. Giving you a warm smile as he read your thoughts, San leaned in to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb drawing circles around it. Brushing his lips against yours, he sighed blissfully as he looked in your eyes.
"My lovely soulmate..."
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
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When Mingi met you, he was sort of put off by how different you were from him.
"Hi! I'm Y/N, your soon to be wife but please don't think of me as that if you don't want to. Think of me as your friend. I just know we'll get along!"
You were actually squealing and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, almost bouncing up and down with joy while Mingi just stood there stiff as a pole, wondering what the hell made you be so happy and cheerful like that.
"Ok.....ok got it, you can let go now." He tried to squirm out of your embrace, but you merely tightened your grip on him causing him to let out a harsh "oof!" at your strength.
"For such a tiny person, you sure aren't weak." He pointed out.
Married life with you for Mingi was...... different to say the least. He was used to such a gloomy, dark and hostile environment that having a tiny bubble bursting with energy was unusual and not something he was accustomed to. You always greeted him with such enthusiasm and happiness, not to mention you were such a caring housewife, always feeding him and taking care of him. Sometimes Mingi questioned whether you've ever seen the harsh side of the mafia world. Judging by your love for life and others, he guessed no.
And his assumptions were correct when you both were at a party held by some of his other mafia friends. Taking advantage of the occasion, rival gangs infiltrated the building. Storming in, explosions went off in several places, and gun shots were being fired at all directions. Mingi quickly jumped up and tackled you onto the ground, covering your body from the bullets that were being poured out. Taking your hand, he told you to stay down as he safely guided you out of the hall. Once you guys were far away, he quickly sprung up, pulling you up with him as he began running towards the nearest exit, pulling out his hidden gun just in case. You were in shock, even more when you guys passed a couple of dead bodies in the hallway. Feeling sick, you don't even remember how Mingi managed to get you both out of there alive and in one piece before the entire place burst into flames. Staring at the raging fire, you felt like you couldn't breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air.
"Honey, look at me. Look at me ok? You're safe. You're all right and you're going to be all right. Nothing is going to happen to you ok?"
You nodded, trying to choke back tears and forcing a smile on your face, but ultimately failing. Seeing you break down, Mingi immediately pulled you into his arms, his fingers running through your hair as he felt his heart break. You were such a fragile, sensitive and extremely precious person to him. He couldn't bear to see his ray of sunshine and hope in his dark world break down in front of him. He knew had to protect you at all costs and take care of you.
"It's ok my darling angel. I won't let any harm come to you. I swear on my life I'll protect you."
Wiping your tears away, he kissed the top of your head and smiled warmly at you.
"Come on. I'll take you home and have one of those cuddling sessions you always enjoy having."
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
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You wanted to die, and that wasn't an understatement. You felt utterly humiliated at the fact your parents actually sold you into marriage to some mafia lord's son to pay off their debts. You didn't even have time to process anything, one day you were just bound and stuffed into the back of a car and soon found yourself inside a grand old mansion. You felt alone and scared, unsure of what was going to happen to you. And you were beyond trembling when you met your future husband, expecting some evil and sadistic man when in reality:
"Hi! I'm Jung Wooyoung, your soon to be husband and I can tell we're going to be really happy together!"
He greeted you with just a charismatic enthusiasm, eyes practically beaming when he first saw you.
"Hi, I'm L/N Y/N, the girl that's going to be caged to you for life......or death. Whichever comes first."
He laughed at that, coming closer and squeezed your cheeks.
"You're so cute, I'm already in love with you."
Love? You seriously thought he was insane. You certainly didn't fall in love with him at first sight. And even after months of being married to him, you still didn't felt love towards him, even though Wooyoung tried anything and everything to not only make life easier for you, but in hopes of getting you to reciprocate his feelings.
"Hey Y/N. Look! I got you a present! Open it. I know you'll love it."
You groaned at the thought of another expensive present being given to you. You felt bad that he went through all these troubles when they'd all end in vain. Peeling the ribbon off the huge box, you didn't even get to open the box since the Welsh Corgi inside jumped out and tackled you to the ground. You couldn't help but giggle when it began licking your face, its tail wagging out of joy.
"I knew you'd like him. Now he can keep you company so you won't be lonely while I'm gone."
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't let the opportunity pass to poke fun at him.
"Who said I was even going to miss you?" You chuckled, petting the dog's head.
"You never know." Wooyoung insisted.
Leaving you for 5 months, you couldn't believe you actually started to miss his obnoxiously loud presence. Sure your puppy kept you complaining and cuddled you, but it wasn't the same. You hated to admit it....
But you actually wanted Wooyoung to come back and smother you with what you always referred to as his annoying affection.
Opening the front door, Wooyoung called out that he was home. He smiled when he was greeted by his furry friend rather enthusiastically. But he was not expecting for you to run out and jump at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. Although he stumbled slightly, he made sure to catch you, your legs wrapping around his waist.
"Y/N are you-?"
He widened his eyes when you crashed your lips on his, kissing him as if your life depended on it. Once getting over the shock, he had a smug grin as he kissed you back.
"Told you you'd miss me."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
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Jongho terrified you. From day one, you were intimidated by him. He always had a blank expression, hardly talked and he had a reputation for being brutally strong. Obviously you felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, afraid to piss him off. Anytime he called out to you or came near you, your body would jump.
"Y/N..."
Shrieking, you turned around when you felt his hand brush against your lower back. Tilting his head, he raised an eyebrow at your reaction.
"I needed something from the cabinet."
Without breaking eye contact, his hands gripped your waist as he slightly moved you to the side, fingers digging into your skin. After having gotten what he wanted, his thumb poked your nose as he winked at you.
"Thanks doll."
You swore he was teasing you. He'd purposefully use any occasion to show off his strength to you, his favorite being cutting up wood in the yard with an axe. You couldn't help but stare at his arms that were visible due to him wearing a sleeveless shirt. When he noticed you staring, he sent a smug smile your way which caused you to blush and you immediately retreated back inside the house.
There was also the time he accidentally walked in on you changing. There you were, standing in nothing but your lacy underwear set, for some reason not embarrased or hiding yourself as Jongho inhaled deeply as his eyes raked your body. Subtly biting his lips, he apologized before reluctantly leaving the room.
Both of you were frustrated by that point, tired of the light teasing. Jongho was the one who decided to put a stop to it one night he came home from a mission. He had been badly hurt and you, worrying about him, sat him down to tend to his wounds. It was a struggle since he had to remove his shirt and you were blushing violently, eyes always looking away.
"It's ok doll. I'm your husband...you can look at me."
His hands that were holding onto your arms began caressing your elbows, subtly pulling you closer to him without you noticing until you were firmly planted on his lap.
"Do you want me my little doll?" He asked you, voice in a low whisper as his breath fanned over your lips.
"Cause I've wanted you since the first day I laid my eyes on you."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
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blzzrdstryr · 3 years
Text
Like a fairy tale
Yandere!Diluc x maid!fem!reader
Wordcount: 1921
CW: Yandere and slightly suggestive themes.
You loved reading fairy tales as a child - they were magical and hopeful, a needed retreat for a child of destitute parents. They were a promise that if you were good and kind and beautiful enough, eventually some faraway prince would come by and save you from poverty. And you tried to be good - you were obedient and hardworking and you pushed your hardest in the local school, yet hardship and scarcity still trailed your every step - the meager earnings your parents made weren't enough to buy you nice clothes or let you eat until you were sated, which in turn made social interactions harder: some kids sneered and humiliated you, some tried to help you out of pity. You disliked both groups: whether they were friendly or aggressive towards you, they still looked down on you.
Thus you decided to distance yourself from your peers - there was no knight in shining armour galloping towards you on a snow white steed, yet a good education could be your golden ticket to a better rich life. It was hard at first - to work and to study and to help your parents all while ignoring the demeaning and insulting comments the bullies made, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward, imagining how wealthy you’ll become in the future and in the end our efforts were rewarded - you graduated as the best student, that led you to receiving a scholarship from Sumeru academy. Sparks and shine appeared in your eyes as you read the letter, barely stopping yourself from outright squealing and jumping from joy.
The moment of happiness didn’t last long though, as a reality again reminded you that there’s no place for fairy tales in the real world - scholarship covered the full cost of apprenticeship, but only it - you still had to spend money on the journey from Mondstadt to Sumeru, a place to rent and food, and if you still could find a job after your arrival in the foreign country and pay off the later two, trip required mora that you never had. At first you had a mad idea to traverse Teyvat on your own two feet - it would be a slow and arduous process, but cheap nonetheless. You later gave up on this plan - archons didn’t give you any vision, nor did you have fighting and travelling experience to aid you on the trail that no doubt would be full of slimes, hilichurls and other dangerous monsters.
And that’s how you started job hunting - you took on any work that promised you a hefty pay, be it some boring reports for guild of adventurers or an exciting yet risky endeavor of getting information for an extravagant cavalry captain, which then led you to Dawn Winery. Head housemaid, Adelinde, posted a job opening for a maid, and the prospect of a stable salary, free food and comfortable bed was enough to lure you in there - two or three years ago the previous owner of the winery died in the accident and his successor left Mond for some reason, leaving the maintenance and management of the winery on the shoulders of the said housemaid.
After a quick interview, the head maid demanded you to show her your cleaning skills, which you effortlessly did, having to look after the house by yourself all your childhood. It seems she was satisfied, as she nodded to you and asked to follow her as she led you to your room. Compared to the other two maids here, Hillie and Moco, who preferred to spend their work time in idle chat, you came off as highly professional and diligent worker. This contrast raised both your position and salary in the winery, as Adelinde started to entrust you with tasks more interesting than simple sweeping and cleaning.
You were outside the winery the day you met Diluc - returning from the city and carrying several stacks of milk and wheat you got chased by the hilichurls. Monsters didn’t leave you, no matter how long and how far you ran. You were ready to drop all the goods and have Adelinde to scold you for wastefulness and dereliction when Ragnvindr appeared and stole a breath from you. He looked just like the prince from your childhood tales, impossibly pretty and strong, arriving just when the creatures caught up with you and then defeating all of them with a single slash of great claymore. And just like a fairytale prince he helped you to get up and collect the scattered baggage and asked if you were okay. Then you two headed for the winery, you didn't know that he was it's owner at the time, chatting and thanking him, as he carried purchases. Adelinde almost fainted when she saw the return of the prodigal master in your company. After hastily taking goods from his hands, she made you apologize for rudeness and insubordination, but Diluc interrupted you saying it was fine.
Ragnvindr heir returned back to the winery and life went on its own, except the unreadable glares Diluc started to send you when you both were in the same room. It started off small: the quick glances that soon grew into intense staring. With his impassive stone face it was impossible to tell why he was glaring at you so much, so you acted as polite and professional as you could in his vicinity - after all you didn’t want to get fired and look for a new job. The key to this riddle presented itself during one day.
It was a bleak windy morning when Adelinde sent you to the city again, and as you walked the sky darkened and rain started. You returned absolutely soaked and shivering, teeth chattering and limbs slightly numb from cold and when Diluc saw you he ordered you to change in a low commanding voice. Frightened by the possible dismissal, you hurried putting on the uniform. Because of the haste you pulled it too tightly, hiking up a maid dress a little. It wasn’t up enough to reveal your hips or thighs, showing just a portion of knees that was usually hidden by the wide skirt.
Diluc’s eyes were glued on the uncovered joints, a subtle blush appearing on his pale cheeks. You continued to work, feeling how he consumed your legs with his eyes alone. He is lusting after me. You didn't know what to do with that revelation back then, embarrassed and slightly scared of attracting master Diluc's attention.
Nonetheless, an answer quickly came on the next day as you found a bonus to your salary, so big that it could be considered a payment for the next month. Diluc, despite his usually impassive face, seemed to be ashamed of the thoughts he had yesterday, with the body language telling you of his true feelings.
A plan came to mind. You hated yourself for it at first - it was low and disgraceful, you felt like a stereotypical manipulative gold digger, yet still decided to realize it in life - you needed mora, as fast and as much as possible. Over the time you spent working at the Dawn winery you noticed that Diluc, despite his obviously high intelligence, wasn't really good at judging one’s character, so he fell for your scheme pretty easily. Design you had in mind was pretty simple - to stir him up with small, innocuous gestures and changes that would slip past the outsider’s eyes.
Sometimes you applied a thin layer of healing lip balm on your lips, that so conveniently happened shine and glitter under the light, sometimes you donned your dress a little bit higher, opening the view of two delicate knees and sometimes after cleaning and working all day you felt so hot that you had to unfasten one or two buttons to cool off. Diluc, despite not showing it on his face, was obviously distracted and aroused, hands clenched into fists and a shaky, barely controlled exhale escaping his nose.
He started to pile you with bonuses and prizes; “for a well done job”, he said one time, averting his gaze and masking the shame in his voice under a huff. He also started to request you to specifically clean the rooms he occupied, his eyes sizing up almost every inch of your body. You felt how the lust and desire radiated off him, how his hands itched to trace your skin and have you at his mercy, yet he stopped every time with his steel strong control and self-discipline. You sensed how it dwindled little by little.
Diluc, in some perverted sense, was that fair prince of your childhood daydreams that would save you from poverty.
You almost had saved up the needed amount of money when you noticed the loss of your most cherished possession - an invitation to the Sumeru academy and scholarship certificate. With heart booming in your chest you started to look for it in the whole winery, without giving out that you were searching for something. It seems that you were unsuccessful in your attempts, as master of the winery soon called you into the office.
Here, he was sitting behind the desk with a familiar paper in his hand - your eyes widened as you saw it and you had an urge to run up to him and snatch the invitation from him. You performed a curtsy instead, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to speak, eyes still on the sheet in Diluc’s hold.
“[First], you are a diligent and skillful employee, Adelinde has a very high opinion of you” he started from afar, a slight rosy blush dusting his cheeks at "skillful employee".
"So as your employer I wouldn't want any harm to befall on your person, and" he shaked the invitation a couple of times, "it came to my attention that you were planning on travelling to Sumeru. I advise you against this nonsensical idea".
You gritted teeth, careful not to insult him with the couple of barbed words at the tip of your tongue. Nonsensical idea? This was your goal, a main reason why you worked so much and allowed yourself so little.
“I am sorry, master Diluc, I am afraid I can’t abandon this idea”, you say, response flat and controlled, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden beneath the faux calm, “It is my goal, and the main reason why I work here”. So I can have a bright and secure future, in which I won’t have to worry about the tomorrow ever again.
“I also learned that you were born into a low income family and you had to struggle in your life because of that ” a sudden mention of your less than glorious origin makes your face burn from the shame you thought you buried a long time ago. You are stunned, so he continues: “I believe this little endeavor of yours is also motivated by your desire for a stable future. Drop it, I travelled all across the Teyvat and there are horrors that can easily destroy you both in body and spirit”.
He stands up from the desk, and gets closer to you: “I can look after and provide for you, just stay there and you won’t have to worry about the future again ”. His hold on the paper gets tighter, pyro vision shining with a dangerous glint. A faint smell of smoke spreads through the room - a warning if you remain stubborn and unyielding.
Who could have known that the fair prince was a greedy dragon all along?
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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years
Text
Always
Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.
Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing
Word Count: 3305
a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?
Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.
Masterlist
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"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.
"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.
"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.
Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"
You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.
It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.
"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."
You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.
Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?
"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"
You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.
"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"
His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.
"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"
His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.
Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.
-
The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.
Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.
Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.
"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."
You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.
You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.
You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.
Hi Steve,
I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.
You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.
I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.
Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.
You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)
This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.
-
What the fuck?
You want to go back in time and stay there?
You want to leave me behind?
Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?
I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.
You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.
Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.
It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.
I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.
Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.
And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.
If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.
It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.
One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.
I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.
-
Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.
All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.
I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.
Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.
Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.
This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.
Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.
Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.
Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.
Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."
It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.
Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.
All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.
Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.
Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.
But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.
Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.
I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.
I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.
I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?
I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.
It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.
Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.
If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.
I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.
I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.
I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.
Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.
I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.
I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.
No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.
It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.
Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.
All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.
Forever yours,
Y/N
-
It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.
You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.
With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.
-
"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."
It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.
"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."
"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.
"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."
He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.
"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"
"Y/N, I-"
"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.
"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.
"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.
Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.
"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."
Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.
"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"
"Y/N, really just let me-"
"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."
"It's not." He cut in again.
"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."
The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.
"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."
"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"
"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.
"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."
It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.
"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."
"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.
"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.
"Y/N, I never meant for-"
"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.
"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.
"Y/N, please, I can't-"
"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"
"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.
"I'll love you always."
You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.
A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.
"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.
"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.
You nodded pitifully.
"Did he explain-" You cut him off.
"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."
"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.
The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.
"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."
You choked on another sob just thinking about it.
"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.
"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.
"Baby, please look at me."
You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.
"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.
"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.
"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.
"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.
"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.
"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."
New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"
"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.
"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.
"Always."
a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.
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mrsbrekkers · 3 years
Note
How bout a kaz brekker x blind!reader? 💓
okay so i have never written blind!reader before but but but BUTTT a good idea came to me involving reader being a grisha ( healer ) who had the gift to see someone and what they truly look like if they are physically allowed to be let in? it’s hard to explain, but y a
in this, reader and kaz have known one another for a good three in a half years, they work on heists together, and reader is usually partnered with kaz, as he wants to keep her safe. i S U C K at summaries. also, i was hella distracted while writing this, but it came out somewhat okay? f u c k.
pairings! kax x blind!reader
reader in this is female, but i will adjust accordingly if you’d like me too! just let me know! :)
warnings! really distracted writing, jordie, ptsd, blood, the typical soc stuff, kaz almost having a panic attack, but also him realizing he’s safe there with reader ye. 
i could so make this a series? like going through all the times blind!reader has made kaz come to trust her more and more. haha ha unless...
word count! 2847
ONE SHOT UNDER CUT
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GLOVED INTERACTIONS
There were many descriptions given to Y/N about what Kaz Brekker looked like. What color his eyes were. What color his hair was. What his build was like. She could give you an accurate description of Jesper, Inej, Nina, Matthias, even Wylan was easy. But when it came to someone she couldn’t physically map out? She became a bit lost.
Being born without her sight, Y/N had to learn other ways to understand the world. Especially in a place like Ketterdam. Maybe that was why Kaz was quick to take Y/N under his wing. To keep her safe, just as he had with Wylan. But, Y/N wasn’t useless. Being a Healer, she was valuable to the Dregs. Nina was a powerful heartrender, but could only do so much when someone was inevitably hurt during jobs. That’s where Y/N was useful.
In a sense she had her sight, but it relied on physically being able to touch someone. A side-effect of being a Grisha, with abilities that no one has seen before. Her sight may have been gone, but being able to see one in her mind, whether it be blurry or clear, gave her an idea on what one looked like.
That meant Kaz was the most mysterious person to Y/N.
Y/N could describe most of the crows relatively well. Jesper had been the first to let Y/N use her ‘gift’ as Nina called it, with him. Her hands rested on his arms, slowly moving up to his shoulders, the other crows sitting around them to watch.
“You’re Zemeni, but I knew that already. Inej described you as long limbed, she wasn’t wrong.” Inej laughed a bit, shaking her head. “Lean, no surprise, I could make that out. Your eyes are a dark grey, but beautiful. I must say Jesper, you’re rather handsome. Being a handsome decoy seems like it should be a Jesper talent.”
Jesper smiled, looking down at Y/N. “Right on, almost to the dot,” he said, giving his best friend a chuckle.
“Your smile lights up a room. But I also knew that already,” Y/N added, tilting her head as she let her hands drop from Jesper’s shoulders. The crows around them were in awe, and then Nina was moving Jesper out of the way.
“Move handsome decoy, my turn,” She said, humming a bit as she sat in front of Y/N, making the Healer laugh. As she had with Jesper, Y/N ran her hands up Nina’s arms, stopping at her shoulders.
“Hmm, long curly brown hair, your heart beats a bit differently than the rest of our friends. Courtesy of being Grisha, and a Heartrender. You’re also a bit curvier than our friends, but as am I.” Nina smiled, glancing at their friends, who all seemed confused on how Y/N managed to do this.
“Green eyes, piercing almost. As always, like the rest of our friends, your smile lights up the room. But instead of Jesper’s toothy smile, you’re a closed mouth smiler, unless talking to Matthias of course,” Y/N smirked a bit, feeling Nina’s body heat up told her that the Heartrender was indeed, blushing.
Then slowly, all of the crows sat in front of Y/N. Except for Kaz, which Y/N understood. She didn’t pry, but she did begin to wonder what he truly looked like. There were so many conflicting descriptions. Obviously the ones given from people who didn’t like him weren’t taken into account, because most of them consisted of calling Kaz ‘The Grinch’. And while this was probably a good term for his lovely personality, it didn’t seem like it’d match his looks. Kaz wasn’t green after all.
But after a particularly rough job, one that ended with almost everyone scuffed up in some way, shape, or form, Y/N was working herself to the bone. Inej had the worst of it, so Y/N worked on her first at the Slat, and upon finishing, she had Nina sit next to the sleeping Wraith. She stood, huffing as she climbed the stairs to Kaz’s room. He was always the least willing to be healed. He always claimed he was the least beat up, or he could handle it himself.
This time, Y/N knew he wasn’t the least beat up. She’d heard about the gash running up his arm, and the scratches lining his face, which were less than pretty. Entering the room, she crossed her arms.
“I’m fine,” Kaz spoke first, earning a scoff from Y/N.
“I’ve heard plenty from Jesper about how nasty the gash on your arm is, and how your leg has been worse than usual. I can’t heal a bone that’s healed incorrectly, but I can ease the pain,” Y/N stated, moving to stand in front of the desk. Why was Kaz so damned stubborn about things like this? It concerned the Healer. Did he find himself so unlovable that he believed he deserved the pain when he was hurt?
“How are you going to count your Kruge if your arm is cut wide open?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. That made Kaz sigh. She wasn’t wrong about that. It also meant problems during other aspects of his job.
“Fine,” Kaz said reluctantly. He watched Y/N round the table, his eyes mainly on her fingers that softly glided the desk, letting her know when to turn. He’d always found it fascinating how she managed so much without her sight. Mainly how she found her ways around. The way her fingers would move so smoothly across surfaces. Or how graceful she seemed. It was hard to fascinate Kaz Brekker, but she did it effortlessly.
“I won’t touch you, but I’m going to need to be guided to where the gash is,” Y/N spoke, now standing in front of Kaz, who gulped with a shaky nod. He trusted her. He trusted all of his Crows, but her the most. She’d been there when the Crows were down bad. She brought smiles to the team without fail. Kaz could remember the first time they’d met, when his fascianation had started.
The night had been cold, dark. As Ketterdam usually was. After a few months of Kaz having Inej watch over the Healer that lived near the university district, Inej had come to Kaz with news that the Healer, Y/N, had noticed her. It had rendered the Bastard of the Barrel speechless. Someone had noticed Inej Ghafa?
“How did she notice you? Nobody notices you. Even I didn't for the first time, and I notice everyone,” Kaz stated, his tone confused.
“I believe our Healer is blind. It would make sense then, all of her other senses would be on high alert, especially her hearing. Even the most silent aren’t silent to the blind. They notice everything, Kaz. I’m surprised she didn’t notice me earlier,” Inej said, her arms crossed as she leaned in the doorway between the bedroom and the small office.
Kaz stalled for a moment, humming in consideration. It would explain how Inej had been found out. What that didn’t answer was whether Y/N knew who they were. He doubted it, but you could never be sure in Ketterdam.
“Did she know who you were?”
“I’m not sure, I left before things escalated. She said she knew I was there and to reveal who I was and who I worked for. So she knows I’m not some random in Ketterdam. I’m sure she could figure out enough if I’d appeared before her,” Inej said before looking back at the window. She knew she wasn’t followed, she always checked for such. But with the revelation that someone, for once, had noticed her, it wasn’t unlikely that maybe she’d been followed.
Kaz huffed, realizing he’d have to now go and explain to this Healer about how he’d been watching over her for the past few months. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been doing so. Well, he did, she’d be a good asset to have later if he ever decided to actually let it be known that he’d been keeping her safe. It was time that’d present a new reason.
Arriving at the small apartment that the Healer lived in, Kaz knocked Inej behind him, and when the door opened, his dark eyes landed on Y/N.
“I was waiting for you guys to show up,” Y/N said, turning and allowing the two inside.
“You knew we’d come?” Inej asked, entering the small apartment and sitting where Y/N offered, taking the small cup of tea she was handed. For being stalked for the past few months, the Healer was being rather kind.
“I suspected it was The Wraith watching over me for some time. I have learned to feel different presence’ around me. Yours, while I didn’t notice it at first, I began to when one of my papers went missing and was replaced with a forged one,” Y/N said, sitting next to Inej.
“How did you know it was forged?” Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that Y/N could see that, but his tone, his voice did the accenting for him.
“Kaz Brekker I presume. The handwriting wasn’t my own. I don’t have terrible handwriting, I’ve practiced for years after all, but my handwriting is not that nice. And the paper wasn’t the kind of paper I used. It was a close second, yes, but the letters weren’t able to be felt. That’s when I realized it was forged. It was a good forgery, but I’ve lived in Ketterdam long enough.” That’s when Kaz’s fascination started.
Or maybe it was when Inej had announced someone had noticed her. Nonetheless, that was the day he decided to recruit Y/N officially. It wasn’t hard either, considering she was rather willing too as long as she wasn’t indentured to the Dregs.
“I won’t go with if I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life,” Y/N stated, sipping her tea. Oh, and she had to bring her cat. Jesper now called the cat the Crows mascot. Which, the other’s had found weird. It was a cat, not a Crow, but they had changed the name of the cat to Crow. Which made the rest of the gang agree on it. Even Kaz found the cat enjoyable.
That was three years ago.
Since then, Y/N hadn’t let Kaz down once. He’d grown to trust her as he did Inej, even more so as she became his shadow. The person in his corner, his partner. He trusted his shadow.
Sighing, Kaz shook his head, looking over at Y/N and glancing down to her hands. “Left arm, right above my elbow,” he said, watching her fingers flex before moving to hover over the gash that covered a good part of Kaz’s upper arm.
“You know, I still don’t know what you look like,” Y/N said as she healed to gash slowly, making sure the work was intricate and done correctly.
“Brooding, dark, nothing else really to me,” Kaz said, but Y/N shook her head, finishing the gash and humming a bit. She moved her hand slowly up to Kaz’s face, doing a quick brush over to heal the small gashes there. Kaz felt them heal, his labored breath steadying as she moved her hand away from his face.
“I don’t believe that. If there was nothing more to you, I wouldn’t be staying around, Kaz,” Y/N said, bending down, but she felt a gloved hand grip her wrist, surprising her and causing her to jump a bit.
“I can handle that pain, I have for years,” Kaz stated, watching Y/N nod, and while she couldn’t see his hand, her eyes were still on the wrist that was enclosed by Kaz’s gloved hand.
“I may have an idea. A way for me to know what you truly look like,” Y/N said, a smile rising to her lips.
Kaz was almost frightened to ask. No, he was frightened. He knew what that would entail. But he knew what she looked like and she had so many conflicting ideas about what he looked like. He also knew that Y/N wouldn’t cross his boundaries unless he gave explicit permission. He could say no to this and she’d agree and leave with a smile, some words of encouragement to sleep and rest, and later have Inej or Jesper bring up food for him. But sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at Y/N, determining that he trusted her enough for this. She’d never hurt you. 
“Okay, tell me the idea,” Kaz said slowly, his words wavering.
“You can back out at any time, Kaz. If you don’t want to do this, you let me know immediately,” Y/N stated, and Kaz let out a small cough. 
He closed his eyes, nodding to himself before giving an audible, “I know.”
“Your gloves, their the barrier that helps ensure you don’t come into contact with skin. What if I wear a pair, they don’t have to be yours, but a pair of gloves and use them to learn what you look like?”
Kaz tilted his head. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It actually made a lot of sense. He used the gloves as a barrier, as Y/N had said. If she did the same, it would be the same as he had just done with her wrist. He wouldn’t feel Jordie. He wouldn’t feel Reaper’s Barge. At least, that’s what he hoped for. But he’d be willing to try for Y/N. He’d try for her.
“We . . . can try that, but use my gloves. I’m used to the feeling of them. I have another pair in the nightstand by my bed,” Kaz said, watching Y/N smile a bit before moving to grab the gloves in the nightstand. He watched her slide them onto her fingers, seeing they were just a bit big on her, he chuckled quietly.
Y/N let her fingers glide against the desk once more, pulling the chair from the other side of the desk right in front of Kaz. She could hear his uneven breathing as she sat too. “You guide me, just like before,” Y/N said, letting Kaz have control of the situation. 
Slowly, Kaz lifted his hand, taking Y/N’s gloved one into his own. Stalling for a moment he shut his eyes tightly, and for a moment the flashes came to him, but he sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes and seeing Y/N in front of him, alive, breathing.
He lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders, watching her hum as the vision of him began to form within her mind. He watched a smile come to her lips. She would never know how beautiful that smile was. How beautiful it was to him. How he hoped it wasn’t washed away like his was because of the Barrel.
“Hmm, Dark hair, trimmed at the edges. Inej teased you for it one day, I remember that. You have a sharper face than most of our friends, and a lean build, but more muscular than Jesper is.” Y/N tilted her head, the image in her head finally fully forming.
“Dark eyes, like bitter coffee. Two tattoos. I didn’t know that. I must say, but don’t Jesper this, you’re far more handsome than he is. Maybe you should start being the handsome decoy.” Kaz chuckled at that, and for a few moments he wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t fearful. He wasn’t breathing heavily. He was happy, even if just for those few moments. Happy because of her.
Y/N dropped her hands, pulling off the leather gloves and placing them on the desk. “Certainly not the grinch as some put it,” she added, standing.
“Pretty close to that,” Kaz said, watching her stand.
“Maybe personality wise, but certainly not look wise.”
“Who calls me the Grinch?” 
“Jesper,” Y/N laughed. She remembered hearing Jesper reference Kaz as the grinch at one point. It was where the nickname had probably originated from for others to call the Bastard of the Barrel, and slowly it became known. The room became quiet for some time, and Y/N was the first to break it.
“Thank you . . . for letting me do that, I know it wasn’t easy. The tattoos, what are they of?” Y/N asked then, tilting her head. Kaz took a deep breath in, looking over at the window across by his bed. The one he rarely ever used.
“The Dregs Crow, and an R,” he didn’t elaborate, leaving Y/N to know that was as much as he’d say. She knew what the Crow was for, but she had a feeling she shouldn’t ask much more than that.
“Well, do get some rest. I can’t heal sleep exhaustion, sadly,” Y/N said, laughing a bit. She didn’t see it, but a smile spread on Kaz’s lips.
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Text
love letter, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be. 
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK
yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK
--
"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."
Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 
"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.
Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"
You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"
Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"
"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."
He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."
You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."
He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.
"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."
"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."
"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 
"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.
"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"
Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"
You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."
He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."
"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"
"It's easier to borrow yours."
"Lazy."
Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"
You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."
He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.
"Obviously."
"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.
"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."
"I do not!"
"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"
"I don't know your nerdy shit!"
"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 
Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.
Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.
Mmmhmm.
Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 
"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”
Uh.
Huh.
Still no name.
Cute peach stationery though. 
Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 
By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.
Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 
You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 
Probably just as heartfelt.
The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.
"Haha, that would never happen to me!"
Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 
You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?
You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.
Their words, not yours. 
"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"
Well, that's a contrast. 
Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 
So, yeah. 
Maybe kind of your fault.
You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 
You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 
You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 
This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.
You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 
You almost burst out laughing. 
Who the fuck would write this?
And send it to him?
Not you, that's for fucking sure. 
Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.
If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 
"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 
You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"
Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."
"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."
"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."
"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"
"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."
You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 
"What's wrong?"
"What if one of them is real?" 
"Huh?"
"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 
You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."
Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"
You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 
"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."
Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 
"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.
"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."
Jungkook rolled his eyes. 
You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 
"Yes."
You blinked at him. "What?"
Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.
You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."
"I did."
He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.
You dropped the note like it was on fire.
Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 
"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"
Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."
"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."
"A flaccid dick then."
You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 
"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."
He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.
"Was a joke."
Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 
"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.
"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.
“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."
The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 
"Just say it."
He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."
"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"
His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 
In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.
Never. 
You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 
You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.
"Say it."
"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.
You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.
Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.
You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.
"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."
Hah, the thing about rules with you was...
Fuck 'em.
Not actually. 
Eh, not the point.
"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.
Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 
"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."
You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?
That’s how everyone was.
Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.
You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.
“Don’t.”
Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.
“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.
“I… really like this.”
He let go of your hand.
Now you raised both eyebrows.
You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.
Why is it your birth date?
Take a wild guess, dumbass.
Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.
“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”
You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.
“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”
Ah, you couldn't help it. 
You smirked.
"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."
Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 
"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.
"Me?"
The definition of trouble?
Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 
Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 
Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.
"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."
And then you licked his tongue. 
A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 
It was not a neat kiss.
There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 
"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."
Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 
It started out with a kiss. 
How did it end up like this?
It was only a kiss. 
It was only a kiss. 
You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.
"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 
"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 
Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 
"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."
His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 
"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.
You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 
"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."
Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"
Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 
You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 
"I doubt it," he purred. 
Yeah. 
Jungkook was right. 
Ah, well. 
You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 
"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.
You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"
He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 
"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."
"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"
From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.
Hmm. 
Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 
The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 
Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.
"The devil knows my name."
the devil knows my name. 
Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 
Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."
Wanted it on him. 
Oh, fuck. 
Did he know? Could he guess?
"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 
Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...
"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 
Yours. 
"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.
How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.
The devil knows my name?
And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.
"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.
"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 
"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."
You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."
Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.
"Look at you."
You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 
"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.
The side of your lips quirked further upwards.
"And yet you wanna love me."
Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."
And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 
"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."
You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.
"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.
"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.
You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.
You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.
You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"
Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.
"Maybe you pitied my grades."
"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.
Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.
Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.
"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."
You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.
"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."
Jungkook smirked.
You smirked wider and more wickedly.
The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.
Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 
Dumbass.
"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."
"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.
"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.
Well, you haven't heard that one before.
"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.
You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 
Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.
Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.
Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.
"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.
"You're going to anyway," you taunted.
"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."
You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.
"Jungkook."
"Y-Yes?"
"Say it."
Brown eyes locked with yours.
"I love you. Marry me."
You smirked.
"Cum for me."
A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.
Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.
"It's me, right?"
You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.
"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"
Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.
"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"
"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.
"But..."
"Hm?"
His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.
"Do you love me?"
You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."
Jungkook's jaw dropped.
This fool is still shocked after all this?
You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.
Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.
"Um–"
Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.
"Oh, f-fuck!"'
And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.
"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.
Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.
"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 
You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 
A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 
"There's a difference between them and me."
You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 
"They're not going to get their fix."
Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 
"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 
--
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