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#i asked why he thought it was ok to treat me this way and he said
lexisecretaccx · 6 hours
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A+ Student pt.3
Other parts on my Masterlist!
(Fem reader, kinda drama at the start, slight angst, smut☺️, suggestive, not revealing who the smut is with xoxo, not proofread!)
Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..
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The next day..
I couldn’t sleep well, I was stressing out about Matt and Chris and everything going on. I walk into the English lecture 5 minutes late, I didn’t mean to I was just lacking on time. Matt is at the front of the class, not teaching even thought the lecture started already.
“Now we can start.” Matt spoke as I walked up to my seat. I noticed Kelly sat at the front of the class watching Matt the same way I used to when I first met him.. with utter devotion.
I can’t help but feel a sense of jealousy fill me even though he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. That is until she raises her hand to answer a question that I also raised my hand to answer. “Kelly?” He spoke.. he let her answer it instead of me. I mean that’s okay I shouldn’t answer all the questions.
“Is it option 2?” She asks him, smiling cheesily. He breathes through his teeth, “that’s the wrong question but,” he leans on her desk. “We can work on getting you up to pace.” He smiles before patting her shoulder and walking past her slightly. He patted her shoulder. He does that to me, that’s our thing! Why am I feeling like this?
“Y/n?” He asks me, bringing my attention from her to him. “Hm?” I hum sadly. “Do you know the answer?” I sigh before shrugging. “You had your hand raised.” He spoke again, “yeah but I wasn’t gonna answer the question, it’s fine now.” I look back down to my notes. “Okay..” he says hesitantly before telling us all the correct answer.
“Is this right?” Kelly giggles, he leans down to her notes before nodding, “yeah good girl.” He smiles and looks straight at me. I don’t know why I feel so jealous but he calls me that. Why is he treating her how he treated me? It isn’t fair I thought he liked me. Why-
My thoughts are cut off by the door opening and Thomas walking in, “you’re late.” Matt instantly spoke, “sorry..” he mumbled. He came and sat next to me, smiling briefly before looking at me fully. “Are you ok?” He whispered, I sighed sadly, “yep.” I lied.
“Sorry you have to help me in the lessons.” He looked down, “it’s okay don’t apologise, it’s a distraction at least.” I smiled at him and he smiled softly. We continue the lessons and I help him out and we chat and he’s a sweet kid. I keep glancing at Matt, who I find watching me and Thomas. I was scribbling on a random piece of paper, doing doodles and stuff and Thomas noticed.
He drew a little reindeer on the corner of my page, causing me to chuckle gently. “That’s a good deer.” I smile. “Thank you.” He smiles back. “Stop talking.” Matt made me jump as he stood right next to me. “Sorry.” Thomas muttered.
Matt hands me a note, it read. Stay after class, we need to talk about yesterday - professor Sturniolo I shook my head. “What?” He whispered, “I don’t want to do that.” He scoffs, “it wasn’t a question.” He walks to Kelly and starts talking to her.
“Hey I gotta leave right now but here’s one of my notes that’ll help you okay?” I say quietly to Thomas, who smiles at me and nods. “No worries.” I pack my stuff away and get up. I walk past Matt and Kelly who were laughing and giggling and I go to walk out, “where are you going?” Matt spoke. “Bathroom.” I lied before walking out fully and making my way down to the hallway.
I look at the sign on the wall GYM I walk in, luckily nobody is in there. I see Chris near the storage cupboard door, “Chris.” I say and he turns around quickly. “Oh hey! Shouldn’t you be in Matts class right now?” He tilts his head. “Yeah but he was flirting with some new girl, purposely to upset me.” I sigh.
He scoffs, “he’s a dick y/n, you should know that.” He laughs. I laugh softly, “what’re you doing?” I look at the basketballs and dodgeballs on the floor. “Putting these away in here,” he motions to the cupboard, “wanna help?” He smirks. I nod before placing my bag on the bench next to his laptop. I pick up a basketball and take it into the cupboard that was larger than I thought.
“Where do I put them?” Chris kicks all of them into the cupboard with me and walks in, closing the door behind him. “There.” He points at a bag full of dodgeballs and one full of basketballs.
He turns the lock and I look to him, “uh.. am I being kidnapped or what’s the plan here?” I chuckle. He joins in before walking up to me, “one more to put away.” He leans into me, handing me a dodgeball. I nod quickly. I put it in the bag and turn around back to him. “Can I leave now or..” I smile, he walks up infront of me, I lean my back against the wall.
“You know how I like to take risks?” He whispers in my ear, I nod. “Can this be one of them?” He breaths out against the skin on my neck, “yeah..” I feel myself get hot at this sudden experience. He plants kisses against my neck, “you know the good thing is..” he spoke against my skin. “There’s no cameras in here or in the gym..” his hand travels down to my skirt.
“You wear this for Matt?” He grins against my skin. I shake my head, part lying. “Maybe skip gym class today, this’ll be all the exercise you need hm..” he kisses a sweet spot under my ear causing me to fold. “Okay..” I whisper in a trance.
“Do you want all of me or do you just want me to make you feel good, I don’t mind either.” His hand rests at my skirt “i want all of you.. please.” I nod before he pulls my skirt off, leaving me in my white undies. “Fuck..” he mutters. He removes his own sweatpants, leaving him in his black boxers, a slight visible imprint of his cock.
I swallow harshly as his hand strokes my clothed cunt slightly, making me moan softly. “Fuck.” He whispers, wasting no time to remove my panties and pulling his boxers off revealing his large dick, a vein prominent down the side. My eyes widen at the sight, “you’re big..” i say smirking slightly, “Don’t stroke my ego y/n.” He smirks back at me.
His hands find place on the back of thighs as he connects our lips in a kiss. I feel more of a passion in this kiss with him, my hand tangles in his hair and the other one rests around the back of his neck. One of his hands slip between my thighs as he places pressure on my clit and starts to rub circles on it.
I moan into the kiss and my grip in his hair tightens and we deepen the kiss. He removes his hand causing me to whine slightly from the loss of pressure, he grips my thighs and lifts me up, breaking the kiss to look down. “You ready?” He says lining himself up with my entrance holding me up as my back is leant against the wall.
“Yes.. please.” I lean my head into his shoulder. He lowers me down onto his member and I let out a loud moan, muffled by his shoulder. I hear a groan grumbling in his throat as I sink down fully until nothing more fits. He starts to lift me up and down on him and i bite my lip to hide my moans, my arm wraps around his shoulder as the other one is placed on his bicep. He pulls my back off the wall so I’m only supported by his arms holding me up.
He’s more muscular than Matt, and he’s nicer. But why do I still feel guilty? I don’t have a reason.. I am taken out of my thoughts by Chris’ tip hitting my g spot. I moan loudly and dip my head into his shoulder even further, gripping his bicep so hard I swear I left marks. To stop myself from moaning so loudly I bury my head into his neck and place kisses, sucking slightly.
He moans out deeply, continuing to bounce me on his cock. “Fuck I’m close y/n..” he groans out, his tip repeatedly kissing my g spot as his movements become sloppier. “I’m gonna cum..” I whimper slightly. The knot in my stomach tightens and snaps as I release all over the base of his dick. “Should.. I pull out?” He whines.
I forgot he didn’t put a condom on, it all happened so fast but luckily I’m on the pill for situations like this. “I’m on the pill..” I breathe out, my body feeling weak and limp, he has slowed his movements as to not overstimulate me. “Fuck..” he groans, his head falling on my shoulder as I feel him shoot his cum inside of me.
I wish this moment could’ve lasted forever but sadly it can’t. “Shit that was.. your perfect.. fuck.” Chris groans as he lifts me off of him slowly, as my feet hit the ground my leg goes limp and I stumble. He laughs slightly, placing his underwear and sweatpants back on and helping me with mine.
“We should do this again.” I suggest, smirking at him as I try to adjust my clothes. “Yeah def-” the bell rings. Both of our eyes widen, this is signalling that it is the break period. We need to get out of the closet before anyone comes into the gym.
He unlocks the door and I walk out quickly, rushing to my bag to brush out my slightly messed up hair. “See you next period.” Chris walks out the closet after me smirking, my mouth drops slightly. His face drops too, “what?” He speaks anxiously, I hadn’t realised my ‘light’ kissing and sucking on his neck was much more.. harder.
There’s 3 hickeys on the side of his neck. “When I kissed your neck.. I accidentally gave you hickeys.” I whisper and his eyes widen before relaxing. “Ah it’s fine, no one will know who gave them to me.” He smirks and I nod, “okay.. can I stay here for break? I don’t feel like walking much right now.” I sigh and he chuckles cockily.
“Fuck you.” I roll my eyes and laugh.
“You already did.”
A/n: hehehehehhe fucking love writing smut. Sorry I can only write this every weekend I’m just super busy during the week bc of exams and shit like that! Love yall tho! Hope u enjoyed this part I think it’s pretty long lol😭😂
Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerssturns @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803
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dujour13 · 1 day
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Ask me about one of my OCs and I’ll list out why they’re problematic.
Presumptuous perhaps but I'm skipping the reblog/ask stage. Also taking inspiration from @arendaes great idea to make this a creative writing project.
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“Dreamer help me if a time ever comes I’m not. I live to be problematic. In a good way!” He flashes that radiant smile, thinking it'll get him off the hook.
Aivu narrows her eyes. “Sometimes you’re problematic in a bad way. You’re a problem when you forget to bring me treats. And when you’re sad.”
“I’m not sad. I’m never sad!”
“You’re also a problem when you don’t tell the truth.” Her dragon lips pinch with reproach.
“Come on, I only lie for good reason.”
“And when you don’t want to get in trouble.”
“That’s a good reason. And so do you, may I remind you.”
“OK but I’m bad at it. You always seem to know. I make my biggest, sweetest baby dragon eyes, just like this—” She bats her long lashes. “—and it never works.”
“Seriously, nobody else could have eaten that cake in one bite.”
“Woljif could.”
“In one bite, no.”
“Hm. Maybe not. Not without leaving crumbs,” she concedes. “But you’re being sneaky again.”
“Me?”
“You’re difficulting. Diftecling. You know, what Arueshalae says.”
“Deflecting?” He lets out a sigh of defeat. “All right, fine. How am I problematic—let me think.
“I’m impulsive. I trust in luck, and that makes me look reckless. Look, it turned out that letting Minagho go helped us out in the end. There wasn't much I could do for her victims. Imprisoning or killing her wouldn’t bring anybody back. Using her to help win the Crusade was the best revenge we could hope for, isn’t it? Like she used Staunton. Or, maybe not that bad, but still. It’s the principle.
“No, I didn’t think I could ‘save’ her. Just tried to turn her against her master. And it worked. Demons are so easy that way.
“I know what you’re implying. The savior complex? The manipulation? Be honest with me: if more people thought the way I do, the world really would be a better place. Case closed, right?” There’s the extremely compelling smile again. You are determined not to let him entirely off the hook, however...
“All right, touché, but rules are for cowards and suckers. And devils. Sometimes, lying, cheating and stealing are the most ethical thing you can do.”
“And if you’re sneaky you don’t get in trouble," adds Aivu helpfully.
“Or if you make big, sweet baby dragon eyes.”
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domesticmail · 5 months
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how do you self-soothe
#my google search be like#i locked myself in the bathroom because there's nowhere else private in this apt and i don't think rudy has anywhere to be until 10:30#and like if he's going to be super upset and take it out on me then i'm just going to do my best to avoid him#because atp i don't want to be hurt#i made a mistake this morning and overreacted to a joke#it's been three hours and he's still so mad he won't say anything to me unless i initiate#and even then it's just him yelling at me#asked if he was leaving earlier#and he RAGED at me for being 'controlling'#like dude you have a consistent pattern of leaving for who knows how fucking long when you're upset#i am not trying to stop you from leaving. i'm trying to understand if you're leaving FOREVER#but hey got it. i will not ask if you're leaving again. my fucking bad.#i asked why he thought it was ok to treat me this way and he said#'i never said it was okay. i can treat you however i want. you decide whether or not to tolerate it'#so now i'm in the bathroom. because i have no privacy otherwise#and honestly if he wants me away that bad? fine! great!#why the fuck would i waste my time wanting to be around you when you yourself admit you clearly don't want to be around me#i struggle with stuff like this because i feel betrayed when we don't work out an issue instantly. it feels like he is going out of his way#to make this painful for me#but i know he's not. that's my angry brain talking.#he has his own feelings and needs to be given space for them when he asks (like i'm doing now! yay me!)#it doesn't mean the world is going to blow up or my life is over#it means i probably need to leave him alone all day today
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I was thinking and wondering about how 141 and könig would react if their s/o started breaking down whenever they dropped a plate or fucked up in some way like leaving something on the stove and their s/o completely breaks down. Apologizing and crying and saying “pls don’t be mad at me” stuff like that.
Or reader accidentally says “ok” I’m a kinda of snippy voice and they genuinely didn’t hear reader, and say “what?” And reader responds with “yes sir” or some shit like that as a trauma response? Srry if this is confusing lol
If this makes you uncomfortable pls ignore
Hey there! I can do this, no problem.
141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma
Warnings: mentions of past trauma, abuse, crying, feelings of unworthiness, swearing - ENDS IN FLUFF!!!
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Nothing was going your way today. You spilled coffee on yourself first thing this morning, stepped in a muddy puddle with your brand new shoes, and your boss was in a horrible mood, and you were his target.
You made it home later that night, and it took everything in you not to break down. Simon would be home soon, and you knew he'd be hungry, so you mustered what energy you could to head to the kitchen and start cooking.
~
"Hey babe, I'm home." You heard Simon's voice call from the front door.
"Hey, dinner is ready." You turned a bit too quickly to greet your husband, and the plate of food in your hands slid from your grasp, smashing to the floor.
You both stood there for a moment, staring at the mess on the floor, before you let out a choked sob.
Simon quickly threw his gear to the floor and carefully made his way around the broken shards to you. "Baby, what's wrong? It's okay. We can clean it."
"Please don't be mad at me, Simon." You sobbed into his chest. "I didn't mean to it, it slipped."
Simon's eyes widened as he looked down at you, grasping your cheeks in his hands softly. "Sweetheart, why would I be mad at you? It was an accident."
"Because I broke the plate! And you were probably hungry, and now dinner is ruined, and I'm a terrible spouse." Your brain was going a mile a minute as the word vomit continued to pour out. "I'm so sorry, Simon. I'll be better."
Simon pulled you back into his chest as he tore through the thoughts in his head. Why were you so upset? It was just a plate. You two could order takeout? What kind of person would be mad over....oh. A lightbulb went off in Simon's head as he looked down at you.
"Y/N, sweetheart, look at me."
You slowly peeled your head from his chest as you looked up at him, your eyes puffy and red from crying.
Simon rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks gently before he spoke. "I'm not him. And you are a wonderful spouse. I couldn't have asked for anyone better to be by my side every day. I don't give a damn if you dropped a plate. We are all human, kid."
You let out another sob, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his words. It was known, Simon was a man of few words, but he always, always knew what to say to help you in the moment.
"I love you, Y/N, always. I'm always going to be here for you, and I promise you, I'm never going to get mad about trivial shit like this. You're okay."
Simon stayed holding you for some time, rubbing soothing circles in your back as you started to calm down. "Why don't we order some takeout, yeah? My treat."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
You and Johnny had just finished up dinner, and he was currently finishing up the dishes as you got the show you two were binging ready on the TV.
"Do you want any popcorn or anything babe?" He asked as he placed the last dish in the cupboard.
"Nah, only you and a buttload of cuddles." You said, turning to him with a warm smile.
Johnny leaned back, admiring you, as his hands rested on the stove behind him.
"FUCK!" He cried out, as there was a searing pain emitting from his hand. "Is the stove still on?"
You jumped up from your spot on the couch, alarmed at Johnny's cry of pain, and you went white as you realized you'd forgotten to turn the stove off after cooking dinner.
"Oh my God, Johnny. I'm so sorry." You mumbled, your heart beginning to race as you made your way over to your boyfriend slowly.
"Shite, that fucking hurts." Johnny waived his hand in the air, trying to shake away some of the pain, not realizing his quick movements had you hunched down in the corner, your arms over your head defensively.
"Y/N?" He asked, the pain in his hand long forgotten. "Baby, did you..did you think I was going to hit you?"
"I...I... I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to, I forgot I thought I turned it off." You cried out, tears now falling down your cheeks, your hands shaking violently.
"Did that..did that fucker hurt you?" Johnny began to put the pieces together in his brain. Before him, you were in a relationship with a man who liked to hurt you whenever you made a mistake.
You gave a small nod, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to prevent a small sob from escaping. Johnny slowly moved to sit on the floor next to to, and grabbed your hands gently.
"Y/N, I will never, and I mean never lay a finger on you like that. Any man who does has no right to be called a man. I am so sorry you went through that." Johnny rubbed soothing circles into your wrists as his eyes stared lovingly into yours. "Don't worry about the stove being left on. It happens. I do shit like that all the time. Plus, I've gotten way worse burns than this, this is child's play."
You let out a soft chuckle as you exhaled deeply. "I love you, Johnny. Thank you. Let me at least grab the burn cream for you."
"I love you too, babe." He have you a warm smile as you walked over to the medicine cabinet and watched as you fumbled with the contents.
Johnny made a silent promise to himself that day, that if he ever saw your ex, he'd teach him a lesson of his own.
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John Price-
"Hey, have you seen my white dress shirt? It's not in my closet." John asked, as he rummaged through your shared room. He had a gala tonight he was supposed to attend, and he couldn't find his favorite white shirt.
"Oh! I washed it, I knew you wanted to wear it, let me go grab it from the dryer." You called back, making your way to your laundry room.
You rummaged through the dryer, trying to find his shirt, and your heart dropped when you saw it. You pulled it out, revealing a giant ink stain on the front, and looked over to find a pen that had gone through the dryer along with it.
Your hand flew to your mouth as you let out a muffled sob. "No, no, no."
"Were you able to find it? I appriciate you washing-" John's voice was cut short as he took in the scene in front of him. "Is that my shirt?"
"John...I... I didn't know that it was..there was a pen." You started rambling, your voice trembling with each word.
John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he took in your state. "It's alright, love."
"No! No you're mad, I fucked up and now you're mad. I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was a pen, and..and.. please don't hate me." You sobbed, falling to your knees, your hands flying to your face.
John felt his heart shatter as he watched you crumble to the floor. He was very aware of the past you had with your family, a family that allowed for very few mistakes, and one that would punish you for any said mistakes.
"Y/N. Baby. It's okay." John crouched down beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I've got you, it's alright."
You choked out a sob as you threw your face into his chest, staining his shirt with your tears. "No, no, it's not. This was your favorite shirt and I fucked it up."
"Love, I was the one who left that pen in my pants. It's my fault, not yours. I promise you, honey, I'm not mad." He rubbed at your arms soothingly as he pressed kisses to your forehead.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you continued to clutch onto your husband's arms. "I should've looked, still. I'll buy you a new one."
"Aye, screw the shirt. I'm kind of glad it's ruined. I didn't want to go to that silly dress up party anyway. I'd much rather stay here with you."
"Really?" You asked, wiping away your tears.
"Really. I don't need some to be at some party with stuffy stuck-up pricks when I can be here with my pretty little partner. I'm gonna go order us some takeout. What do you say we get our pjs on and watch a movie, yeah?"
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
"Hey, babe. Can you keep me alive in this game for like 5 minutes? I have to go run to the bathroom, I can't pause it." Kyle called out.
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm not very good at those kinds of games but I can try." You gave him a sheepish smile as you walked over to him.
"It should be super easy. Just walk anywhere, but where the guys with red bars over their heads are. Those are the enemies." Kyle said, before placing a kiss on your head. "I'll be super quick, I promise."
You swallowed thickly as Kyle walked away, your hands shaking slightly as you held onto the controller.
You managed to do pretty well at first, avoiding all of the enemies that were wandering around you. Luck, however, was not on your side for long.
An enemy came out of nowhere as you were pacing back and forth in one of the corners of the map and managed to kill you with one hit.
"Thanks for watching it, babe. I hate how I can't save my progress in -" Kyle stopped mid sentence as he saw the "YOU DIED" message flicker across the TV screen.
"Kyle, I'm so sorry. He...he came out of nowhere, and I.. it was one hit, and there wasn't anything I could do." You started to hyperventilate, your breathing increasing rapidly as tears brimmed in the corner of your eyes. "I was doing well, and I didn't see him I.. I'm so sorry."
"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Kyle was quick to come over to you, taking the controller from your hands. "I'm not mad, baby."
"But you losy your progress and I fucked up, and now you hate me." Your thoughts were racing through your head faster than you could process, and you threw your face into your hands as you let out a sob.
"Y/N. Baby. I promise you, I couldn't ever hate you. It's a stupid video game. It's okay. You're safe. You're with me, not him." Kyle gently pulled you into his lap as he began to press kisses to your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Besides, it gives me a chance to go back and loot better shit anyway."
You looked up to him through your bleary eyes, and gave a wobbly smile. "I don't deserve you, Kyle Garrick."
"Bugger off with that, love. If anyone doesn't deserve anyone, it's me who doesn't deserve you."
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König-
You and König were cleaning up in the weapons/gear locker at the end of a brutal mission. The two of you moved in slow motion around the room, removing your gear and laying down your weapons to be cleaned.
"Maus, can you help me get this vest off? I can't seem to get the buckle." Königs voice shook you from your thoughts, and you turned to help your lover.
The strap of the vest seemed to be stuck, so you gave it a little tug. You evidently had put too much pressure, and it caused you to tear a hole in the fabric, leaving the strap useless.
Your mouth flew open, and you quickly ran over to grab one of the sewing kits on the table. You returned to him, and immediately started to thread at the fabric.
"Hey, hey, it's fine. It's just a tear. We can look at it later." König said, trying to grab at your frenzied hands.
"NO! No, I have to fix it!" You shoved him away as you continued to stitch at the torn fabric of his vest. "I have to fix it."
König watched helplessly as tears began to stream down your face, unable to do anything to console you.
He knew of your past boyfriend and how weak he made you feel. Any mistake you made would end with you being on the end of either physical, or mental abuse, and it made Königs blood boil thinking that anyone could harm someone like you.
"Maus." His voice was firm, catching your attention immediately. "Stop, please."
Your bottom lip wobbled, a whimper barely escaping your lips as you looked up at him. "But I ruined it."
"I don't care about the vest, schatz, it's military issued I can get another." He said gently, as he pulled your hands away from the vest. "I just need you to be okay."
"I'm..okay. Please don't me mad at me." You cried softly, looking back to the vest.
"I couldn't ever be mad at you for something like this. I'm not, and will not ever be like him, okay? You're alright, I promise you." His hands dropped yours and landed on the back of your neck, as he turned your head back to him.
"Tell me you're okay." He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"I'm okay." You repeated, your eyes fluttering shut.
"Tell me you're safe." Another kiss was pressed to your cheek.
"I'm safe."
"Tell me you're loved." A kiss was placed to your forehead.
"I am loved." You repeated once more as a final kiss was placed to your lips. König had started this "mantra" of sorts one of the very first panic attacks you had with him, and it had become a comfort for you ever since. He was always the best at calming you down.
"You are so beautiful, Maus. I love you so much. Let's get the rest of this gear off and go to sleep, alright? I've got you."
And he did, he always had you. He'd never, in his life, ever let you feel like you were anything less than wonderful.
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A/N: thanks for reading!
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asceluffy · 6 months
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How OP MEN would react if you told them to leave you while you’re wounded during a battle.
cw: mentions of blood and injuries. gn!reader
Luffy
“Luffy, leave me and continue fighting.” You’d say as you lay on ground with blood dripping out your fresh cuts.
He’d pause for a bit, brows knitted.
“Huh? Why would I? Are you stupid?” Blunt as ever.
You’d cough up some blood when you chuckle at his words, in which in turn would alarm him.
“Oi oi oi, stop! you’re hurting yourself more!” A panicked look on his face.
You’d push him away with all the strength left in you and he’d contemplate.
“Just—stay here ok? I’ll kick the enemy’s ass in 10 seconds and come back for you.” Then he’d take off, a surge of determination coursing through him.
Law
“Captain, leave me and continue to fight!” You’d say with shaky breath.
He would click his tongue, clearly pissed.
“Don’t give me that crap, (name)-ya! You’re clearly on the brink of death!” He’d sigh as he puts up his hand so he can start treating you with his powers.
You’d swat his hand in protest, folding it before he could say “Room…”
“Hurry, Law! The others need your aid, I’ll be fine!” He’d glare at you but sigh.
While gritting his teeth he’d say, “You better stick with your words.” Before joining the others in the battle.
He had to be quick, he can’t bear the thought of losing someone he loves dearly again.
Zoro
“Zoro! Don’t lower you guard and continue fighting!” You’d say as you clutch on your torso—probably 5-8 broken ribs if your hunch is true.
“You’re an like idiot like that cook!” He’d reprimand you, helping you lean on a wall. “No way in hell I’m leaving you to die here!”
You’d groan in pain, making his angry look dissolve into a worried one.
“C’mon, I’ll get you to Chopper.” He’d say, putting your arm around his shoulder. But before he could do that, you’d pull away.
“I said I’m fine, Zoro!” You’d argue, trying to mask the pain behind your voice. “Or are you underestimating me?”
At your last sentence he’d smirk, putting the hilt of Wado Ichimoji between his teeth and biting on it.
“If you die, I’ll kill you.” He’d say seriously, before turning his back to you and continue slashing the enemies.
Sanji
He’d immediately stop on his tracks when he heard a blood curdling scream from you.
Knowing that it was because you were trying to protect him from an enemy who was about to attack his unguarded back, it made him feel much much worse.
As swift as he was, he’d be able to catch you before you could even fall on the ground.
You’d look up at him as he asks you if you were ok, immediately scanning the room and screaming for Chopper’s aid.
“Sanji, I’ll be fine—please, save our allies.”
Then, you’d notice how his lips trembled a bit. That voice you just spoke with him just reminded him of his mother, so delicate, so comforting.
“No, no, no. I won’t leave you here.” He’d say with a soft voice, using Sky Walk so the two of you can leave in the midst of the battle.
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earthtooz · 10 months
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x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+゚
in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.
warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae
a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!
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you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.
yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.
“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 
“i know. i can see your suitcases.”
he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.
“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.
still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”
softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.
he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”
“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 
“can i just come in?”
the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”
“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”
“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”
“-i love you.”
the world stills.
the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 
but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.
“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”
in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 
“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 
instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 
“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 
he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.
sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 
sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 
“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.
the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.
“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 
“stop it.”
somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”
“sae-”
“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”
with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”
“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 
“you’ll hurt me again.”
“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”
you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”
“rin will, then.”
you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”
he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 
he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.
but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 
everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.
but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 
“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.
“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”
“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 
“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”
a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.
something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse
Ok, so I was in the mood to create something dealing with the news about Logan's car being traded for Alex. So, I thought, why not give Reputations a prologue. Now, this does not happen in 2024. This is set around the 2023 Brazil Grand Prix. Everything in this story is fake. I'm sorry I had to make some of the drivers mean - in no way do I think that they act like this. Yes, they could be nicer to Logan but because I don't know them personally, I have no real thoughts about what they do in their own lives.
All I know is that Logan deserves all the love and my heart hurts for him.
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Saturday, November 4, 2023 
“You want to do what?” 
James sighed as he hunched over his desk. Logan was in disbelief over the question that he was just asked. Alex sat to his right, chewing on his finger nails. 
“It’s just for one race Logan. It’s no big deal.” 
Logan’s brows pinched in annoyance. “No big deal? Two races ago, we scored our first double points. I have raced clean, I’ve shown you what I can do.” 
“That right now doesn’t matter Logan,” James pushed. “What matters is the team. And we need to keep pushing to get points.” 
“Then let me race. Let me prove to you that I can do it.” 
Alex coughed, but no one paid attention to him. The Thai’s eyes were pointed at the floor. His silence was deafening. Logan leaned back in his seat. 
“Are you asking me or telling me?” 
There wasn’t an answer from James, which gave Logan everything he needed to know. How dare they come to a circuit without an extra chassis. How dare they ask Logan to give up his car that he worked so hard to get in the first place. It was ridiculous. And even if Alex managed to score points, it wouldn’t really matter. There were only a few races left. 
Logan finally turned to his teammate. “What do you think about this?” 
Alex only replied, “I would do what was best for the team.” 
A scoff escaped the blonde’s lips.  
“So if I had crashed out, and they asked you to give your car to me, what would you say?” 
“It wouldn’t matter because they’d never ask me to do that. I’d still drive.” 
Logan’s jaw wanted to fall. Did Alex really just say that? The man who had been so confident in Logan. The one who encouraged him after every fault. The person who was supposed to be his teammate. 
Logan could only collapse against the back of the chair. In frustration, he threw his hands up. 
“Fine. Whatever it take for the team right?” he bit. 
“Thank you Logan.” 
However, the American was out the door before he could even hear James. He needed some air. As he walked around the paddock, he saw lots of people but thankfully (or sadly) they didn’t pay attention to him. After walking for a bit, he knew where he was automatically going to. 
The back of the Mercedes garage. 
George, bless his heart, had comforted him once after a particular bad DNF and told him that if he ever needed a place to just sit, he was always welcome there. The tall Briton was always nice to the American. Way nicer than anyone had really treated him. 
He sat on the wet-ish grass and pulled out his phone. Time to look like he was actually doing something. Maybe the weather in Madrid was nice, or maybe it was raining back home? The weather app was always his go to. 
It only took a matter of moments for the post to go live. His eyes followed the mass amount of comments that poured in. And most of them were not lovely. He wanted to cry, but he knew better. 
Footsteps made him aware that someone was coming. He quickly stood up and rounded a corner, putting his back flat against the wall. 
It was Alex, George, Lando, and Oscar. 
“Great,” he whispered when he realized that there was no way to escape without them seeing. Oh well, eavesdropping was one of his specialties. 
“He was not happy,” he heard Alex say. “I don’t blame him.” 
Lando scoffed, or well, he thought it was Lando. 
“This wouldn’t have happened if he was a better driver.” 
Yep, that was Lando. 
“Come on, don’t say that.” 
Thank you Oscar, Logan wanted to say. Thank you for standing up for me. 
“Mate, you were just saying yesterday about how he really isn’t fit for F1. You said that he should have stuck with Indy Car or something.” 
Ouch.
Logan wanted to throw up. 
“Shit, I was really mean to him in there. I should have said something.” That was Alex again. 
Logan could practically hear Lando roll his eyes. For some reason, George has stayed eerily quiet. 
“Alex, it’s his own fault. I’m just saying everything that everyone is thinking. I’m the only one who is brave enough to say it. Logan Sergeant has no business being in Formula 1.” 
Oscar stuttered out, “That’s enough Lando.” 
“Right sorry, forgot you two were close.” 
Come on Oscar. 
“Not that close. He exaggerates a bit. To be honest, I just felt bad for him. He kind of stuck to me and I just let him.” 
Oh.
Alex sighed. “He wanted to prove something so much. But there’s really no need.” 
“No need?” Logan whispered to himself. 
“James isn’t extending his contract. Williams is going with whoever wins this year’s Formula 2 championship.” 
There was silence for a bit. Logan took the time to reign in his breaths that were quickly getting faster and faster. He did not need to have a panic attack here and now. 
“We have to go, Andrea is texting me.” 
“I’ll go with. My engineers have to look over Logan’s car to change some things.” 
He heard footsteps start to walk away. The lone Williams driver let out a deep sigh and sank to the ground. His head was automatically in his hands as he finally let his tears shed. What he didn’t see was a 6-foot Briton walking his way. 
The blonde gasped when he felt a food nudge his. His head shot up and was faced with George. 
“Oh hey. Didn’t see you coming.” 
“I know you were listening.” 
Red flushed Logan’s face as the idea of being caught. 
“It’s not eavesdropping if everyone talks so loudly.” 
George sighed. “I’m not mad Logan. I’m worried for you.” 
A scoff escaped from Logan. 
“You’d be the first.” 
George felt his heart drop at the sentence. 
“I try and try, and no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.” 
“Mate, you can’t get anywhere in a Williams. Did you even see my rookie year? It was bloody awful.” 
Logan looked back down. “But you’re now in Mercedes. You won the Formula 2 championship. I wasn’t even runner up or third place. Williams is all I have, er, well, had I guess.” 
“I’m truly sorry Logan.” 
“Sure.” 
George started to walk away, knowing that trying to convince the American that he was good enough was a lost cause. Logan waited until the Briton left before standing up to make his way back to the garage. 
He could feel the eyes on him now as he made the journey back to Williams. His eyes caught George standing with Lewis, Max, and Charles. They looked sad as they watched him walk. 
Whatever, Logan did want or need their pity. 
The American kept on walking, only stopping to ask for a car to take him back to his hotel. Man, did he wish Benny were here. It would make everything so much better. His phone had been blowing up with so many notifications. Multiple messages from his friends back home, along with his parents, had been nothing less than supportive. 
However, one message caught his eye as he was going through the long list. He was surprised, but there was a warm, fuzzy feeling at the sight of your name. He knew that you were also having a hard time adjusting to everything. Except for the fact that you had won a race for Arrow a few weeks prior. Hell, he was even at your celebration party. But he remembered the looks on your team’s faces as you celebrated. 
One good word would be jealousy. 
And it wasn’t just your team: it was everyone. 
He sent you a quick text saying that he’d call you when he got back to his room. A fast “I’ll be waiting” brought the warm feelings back.
 He quickly walked through the hotel doors and into the elevator. It was going to be so nice when he could change into his sweatpants and t-shirt.
Logan mulled over the entire thing as he showered. 
He could have stayed home in Florida. He wasn’t needed here anyway. He could be in his childhood room, in his own comfy bed instead of the stuffy hotel room that he knew was smaller than the one that Alex got. He had seen the Thai’s pictures from Instagram and their rooms did not look the same. 
He quickly glanced in the mirror, just to see if his hair looked fine. He was thinking of growing it out, but hesitated to. He didn’t want to be made fun of even more than he already was. With a jump into the bed, he was ready. 
He sent you a quick text, only to be met with the FaceTime screen ready. He rolled his eyes, you had always been so impatient to talk to people. When he pressed the green button, he was met with a big smile and an oh so familiar and safe face. 
“Hi Logan.” 
How he missed your voice. You were always so soft spoken, but could yell at people if you needed to. He had been on the wrong side of your yell one too many times. But, he could listen to you for hours if he could. 
“Hello? Earth to Logan?” 
He quickly shook his head. 
“Hi Y/n,” he murmured, laying his head on his bicep as he just looked into the camera. You had a sad smile as you looked at the blonde. 
You could see his eyebags and his pale completion through the small screen. His red eyes signified that he probably cried when he took his shower (you knew because his hair was still soaked). 
You cleared your voice. “How are you holding up?” 
Logan’s shoulders only raised before dropping back down. 
“I’ve been better.” 
“Of course you have.” 
“Overheard that I’m not going to be resigned for next year.” 
A gasp echoed through the room before you sighed. Your hand ran through your hair. When you and Logan were little, people always mistook you for twins or very close siblings. That always annoyed you because you claimed that Logan was your boyfriend, not your brother. The moms and dads would just laugh. 
Looking back, you always wished you cherished those moments more than you had. The “relationship” only lasted for three days or until you saw Logan give Jessica his extra fruit roll up instead of you. After that, you claimed that you could only be his best friend since he didn’t love you as much as you loved him. You were over it as soon as you gave Michael your extra fruit roll up. 
You looked down at your fingers in your lap and bit your lip. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
You sighed again. “If it helps, I’m not getting resigned either.” 
Logan’s eyes widened as he scoffed. 
“That’s ridiculous. You have given them 1 out of their 2 wins this season.” 
“And Logan, you scored points as the first American in like 30 years. Nothing in motorsports is ever fair.” 
Logan leaned back, but kept his face visible. 
“Remember when we were kids? And we always said that we would make it to our dreams together?” 
A quiet hum sounded from his phone. 
“Have we made it yet?” 
Silence was his answer. 
“I don’t think we have.” 
“What do you mean by that?” 
“Logan, is driving in a Williams really your dream?” 
The male thought for a moment. Did he accomplish his dream of getting and making it to Formula 1? To the outside world, yes, yes he did. He drove for an F1 team. He ‘made it’ even if it wasn’t the best. But is it really making it if you finished 21st in a 22 driver line up? 
No, that was not making it. That was barely getting by. 
“I guess my dream was just to show everyone that I could do it. That I’d be good at it. But, now I haven’t done that.” 
“Then why have you given up?” 
“Because everyone wants me to. No one has ever liked me for me.” 
“I do.” 
Logan inhaled sharply. He finally turned his head to see you looking right at him through the screen. He felt a tear run down his face. 
When had that gotten there? 
“Logan, listen to me.” 
A hum from him made you laugh. You guessed that’s what you were going to get out of him. 
“You have the talent, Williams saw that. They just couldn’t give you a car to maximize your potential. And who cares if no one likes you. You don’t have to make them like you, but at the same time you do. You can’t be green-eyed lady whisperer Charles Leclerc or World Champion Max Verstappen.” 
He rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Y/n.” 
Your giggles filled the air. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, please continue about Charles’s green eyes.” 
“Dude I could write a whole biography on his eyes alone. But I don’t want to. I’d rather write a whole novel about yours.” 
What was that supposed to mean? 
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say Logan, is that you have to believe in yourself and show them that they need to like you because you are you. Say it with me please? Like you’re talking to a hater. ‘You must like me for me’.” 
Logan whispered back, trying to believe his words. 
“You must like me for me.” 
He shot up from the bed as soon as he said the words. 
“Isn’t that a Taylor Swift lyric?” 
His eyes narrowed at you through the phone. You only smirked back at him. 
“Quite possibly. Now, you are going to go to bed, sleep so well, and then keep smiling. Show them that they haven’t destroyed your spirit just yet.” 
Logan put his head on a pillow. 
“Oh, so they are going to destroy my spirit at some point.” 
“Yep!,” you popped the ‘p,’ “but not right now. That can come later.” 
He smiled dopily at you. 
“You’re the best you know? I know that I say that Oscar is my best friend, but it’s actually you.” 
A whine-like noise came from your throat. 
“You’re my best friend too. I’ll see you in a couple of months ok? Still have to beat Dalton at football this summer.” 
“You say that every year!” 
“Ok and?” 
“Goodnight Y/n.” 
“Night Logan. Sweet dreams.” 
You hung up the phone, leaving Logan alone in his little hotel apartment. He thought about what you had said. What’s the point in trying to make them believe in him anyway. They were going to throw him away like trash soon. 
But you were also right. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He just needed to show them what he could do, and they could feel bad about it later. 
Logan set his alarms for the morning and got under the covers. 
He’d show them. 
His reputation has never been worse, so what’s a bit of fun until the end? 
logansargeant has posted
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logansargeant if I didn't have a day job, I'd spend every moment listening to you, come visit me soon - your best friend
liked by georgerussell63, williamsracing, racer.y/n, and 493,206 others
logiebear oooooo girl in the pictures - have something to tell us mr. American 🤨
lolo2024 what they did to him this weekend was unfair
sargeant2 this was my first Grand Prix and I came from Spain just to watch him! I'm so sad that now I won't get to... :(
logansargeant hey! sorry about that - let me know what you're wearing and I'll try to find you, thank you for the support 💙
sargeant2 OH MY GOSH
racer.y/n I'll see you soon ok! sorry, my day job is also taking up all my time 🧡 *liked by logansargeant*
indyxf1 HELLO Y/N L/N??
log4_ever who is she?
indyxf1 so she like grew up grew up with Logan and she currently races for McLaren Arrow (their IndyCar entry) - she's won half of their races (1/2)
sarg4president they don't deserve you Logan!
loscar_812 I thought Oscar was your best friend hmmmm??
logan&y/n uhhhh haven't you seen that Oscar has been drifting since he's gotten closer with Lando??
loscar_812 oh. yeah. :(
billsracing and I thought williams was different - not them creeping in the likes 🙄
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora
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slasher-male-wife · 10 months
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Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'
I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.
Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section
Doomhead
He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".
When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.
"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.
He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.
The Grabber
Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.
He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.
He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.
Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.
Mark Hoffman
You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.
When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."
He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.
He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.
Peter Strahm
You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.
He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.
Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.
He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.
Hannibal Lecter
You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.
You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."
He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.
The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.
Bo Sinclair
You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.
When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.
"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.
You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
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Her touch
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: he only craves her touch
a/n I'm in a cheerful mood. please send in your fluffiest (or even smuttiest) requests my way
Warning: implied smut. Az becoming the biggest simp.
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Azriel has been alive for over 500 years and has had multiple lovers throughout those years. Yet, it’s your touch that has him weak in the knees; and you weren’t even aware of it.
The first time it happened was a complete accident. You were helping Elain with bringing the dinner out for everyone when you accidentally placed your hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Oh, sorry sugar. I thought I was holding your chair,” you apologized, removing your hand from his shoulder and disappearing into the kitchen.
Azriel didn’t know why, but he found himself becoming flustered with not only the nickname you gave him but also feeling your hand on his shoulder. Even if it only lasted a few seconds. 
Everyone around the table noticed as well, but opted not to say anything; they knew better than to tease the spymaster. But they made a mental note to keep an eye on you for future interactions between you two.
The second time it happened was at the court of nightmares. Rhysand had business to take care of there and decided to bring all of you along.
Unfortunately, you got separated from the rest of the group and ultimately started getting pestered by one of Keir’s men.
You were praying to the mother that you find one of your friends to help you when you spotted Azriel leaning against a pillar. You ran towards him and whispered: “Please pretend I’m your mate. He won’t leave me alone.”
Azriel didn’t hesitate to get in front of you and shield you from the male making you uncomfortable. It took everything in Azriel not to kill the male that was in front of him because Rhysand clearly stated he didn’t want any deaths while they were there. “The female is my mate,” Azriel warned: “If I see you anywhere near her, I will gut you like a fish in front of everyone.”
The male huffed at Azriel’s threat but ultimately left.
As soon as he was gone, he turned to look at you. He was about to ask if you were ok when you wrapped your arms around him and repeatedly thanked him for what he did. “It’s ok. You’re ok. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Azriel tried to soothe you, his hand resting around your waist.
When you finally pulled away, you pulled Azriel down and kissed him on his cheek: “My hero.”
Azriel swore his heart stopped beating when your lips made contact with his cheek. Before he could respond, Rhysand announced that they were leaving. You immediately went to Mors' side and quickly left the court of nightmares.
After that night, Azriel tried to get you to touch him any chance he got. His body craved your touch and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
The others noticed Azriel’s efforts and started placing bets on how long it would take before he got the balls to tell you how he felt about you.
You, on the other hand, were obviously to the entire thing. Mor would tease you for your cluelessness and beg you to open your eyes to what Azriel was doing. She wanted you to be happy and knew Azriel would treat you right.
It wasn’t until one night when you and Azriel were alone at the house of wind that Azriel finally got what his body desperately craved. What was supposed to be light rain turned into a thunderstorm. Seeing as you hated thunderstorms so much, you quickly ran and lightly knocked on Azriel’s door and asked if you could stay with him. He agreed and brought you inside. He couldn’t help but smile as you curled up against him on his bed, and it took everything in him not to kiss you.
“I love this,” you started, taking his hands into yours: “I always feel safe with you around. Like I know you’ll kill anything and anyone who dares to threaten me.”
“Because I would,” Azriel whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips: “I would go as far as burning all of Prythian if you asked me to. Just to make you happy.”
You stared in shock at Azriel’s comment. None of the males you’ve been with in the past has ever expressed themselves the way Azriel has. Before you allowed yourself to second guess what you were about to do, you leaned in and kissed Azriel.
The moment your lips landed on Azriel’s, an overwhelming amount of lust rushed through Azriel’s body, and before he knew it, he found himself on top of you. His callous hands roamed your body, squeezing every inch of you as if he were making sure you were actually real.
As if you read his mind, you whimper: “Real, I’m real Az.”
That drove Azriel to groan before he began attacking your neck with kisses and slipping his hands under your nightgown. “Yes, you are,” Azriel lightly bit your collarbone before he finally removed your nightgown, and you lay naked beneath him: “So fucking gorgeous.”
Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as Azriel fucked you in every position he knew. Not stopping until you begged him to; too overwhelmed from the multiple orgasms you had thanks to Azriel.
There was silence for several minutes while you both basked in the post-orgasm bliss. Both of you wanted to speak but were too worried about breaking the silence until Azriel was brave enough to do it: “Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?” you asked, looking up at him.
“Regret what we just did,” Azriel replied, gently stroking your cheek.
“No, I don’t,” you stared at Azriel with nothing but love in your eyes: “If I have any regrets, it’s that I didn’t listen to Mor when she told me you had feelings towards me a few months ago. I know about the crush you harbored on her for centuries, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. I just thought you would never go for someone like me. Someone so bland and boring.”
There was a pain in Azriel’s eyes as he listened to the way you spoke about yourself. “Never speak about yourself in that manner. You are everything to me. You are the female that has my heart completely, and you are the female I choose to love.”
You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Azriel’s scarred hands brushing away the tears running down your cheeks. “I choose to love you too,” you murmured as you rested your head on his chest and drifted off to sleep.
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coeurify · 10 months
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I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real
UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!
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⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)
⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)
⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.
⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”
⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”
⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”
⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.
⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.
⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.
⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.
⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.
⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.
⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”
⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.
⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.
⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.
⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.
⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”
⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.
⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.
⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.
⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”
⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”
⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.
⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.
⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”
⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.
⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.
⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.
⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.
⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?
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atinystraynstay · 3 months
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Game Night - Yoon Jeonghan
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Synopsis: Jeonghan was the type of guy who joked around, the type to be not so serious. I guess that's why you never took his flirting to be anything more than him trying to get you to laugh. Jeonghan was now determined to make you see differently.
Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem reader
Genre: friends to lovers! playful competitiveness with Jeonghan
Word Count: 1.8k
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"So, y/n, what are the chances of you letting me be yours for the night?" Jeonghan asked teasingly. "Maybe when you learn to stop cheating at Guess Who!" You groaned.
It was a typical Sunday night for you and Jeonghan. You two always had game nights together, ever since you can remember. Both of you were quite competitive, so you were equal competitors for one another. At this point, most of the members have given up on playing against Jeonghan anyways.
Jeonghan and you had become good friends over the past few years. However, you never believed Jeonghan was into you. He sometimes liked to flirt with people because he thrived on making people feel uncomfortable for a second before making them laugh. He definitely was a trickster.
Recently though, Jeonghan didn't see his flirting towards you as just teasing. He was starting to realize he was starting to like you. More than a friend. It took a lot to scare Jeonghan but what scared him the most was you ever finding out about his little secret. If anything, he amplified his flirting with you to try to keep his crush concealed for a little bit longer.
He was sure he would tell you eventually. He just didn't know when.
"I can't help that you are bad at dropping hints. Seriously, y/n. You make it too easy for me!"
You rolled your eyes at Jeonghan's antics. To anyone, they might find his confidence insufferable. However, to you, you found it endearing. Jeonghan was the man who could be silent when he needed to be, especially when encountering new experiences and new people. When he was comfortable and relaxed, he let his true colors shine.
You were just blessed to be one of the lucky ones who got to experience his entire rainbow.
"Okay, let's actually play this time. Honest and fair." "Honest and fair."
I his mind, the gears were turning. Sure, he wanted to win the game but he had an alternative motive. A lot was on the line.
"Have you selected who I am going to guess right?" You asked challengingly.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes playfully but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Whenever he was around you, he found himself smiling brighter than ever before. You just managed to pull that side out of him oh so easily.
He also has never encountered someone who was maybe just as competitive as he was.
"Yeah, angel. I'm ready to watch you get frustrated. You're really cute when you get flustered, you know? I always love the way your nose scrunches up and you get a bit red in the face." "That doesn't happen,' you lied. "Oh right, it doesn't when it is with anyone else. I guess I just have that effect over you," he snickered.
You could feel your cheeks heating up the more he spoke. It didn't help he was staring you down with that smug grin on his face.
God, why does he have to be so damn attractive?
"Shut up," you muttered. "Let's just play, ok?"
He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was easily amused by how easily he could make you crumble.
One of the very first things that Jeonghan noticed about you was how independent you were. You weren't afraid to call people out on their bullshit, and always felt the freedom to voice your opinion. You weren't the type of person who needed to rely on others to do something.
It was quite the treat to watch you lose your train of thought if he just looked at you. You often forgot what you were going to say the moment Jeonghan said something flirtatious to you. He almost didn't register the possibility of you liking him back until he noticed how you looked away to try to conceal the wide smile on your lips and pink blush coating your cheeks.
The two of you have been doing this waltz around confessing your feelings for a while now. And frankly, Jeonghan was getting tired of playing that game. He wanted something new.
"Pretty ladies first," Jeonghan announced.
There you go again, blushing at his words. It was almost too easy.
"Does your person have facial hair?"
He took a moment to act as if he he had to think about it. You raised an eyebrow, knowing that he was up to something but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.
"Oh come on, Hannie, we just started. There's no way you forgot already who your character is," you teased.
His heart fluttered every time you called him that petname. A lot of people called him Hannie. But when you say it? It was music to his ears. It made him feel all warm and tingly at the prospective of him being exclusively yours and you being all his.
"No, my character doesn't. I was just trying to make you annoyed again," he snickered.
You rolled your eyes but kept a light smile on your lips. Anyone else would be underneath your skin, but he just had this way of finding his antics endearing. Your pointer finger got to work at flipping down the 8 characters you successfully eliminated.
"So, my sweet girl," he began. Oh, here we go. "Does your character have glasses?"
You smirked as he guessed incorrectly. You looked up at him with this look of amusement on your face. Honestly, he has never found you more attractive than when you let your competitive side free. He liked a challenge.
And getting to be your man was his greatest challenge yet.
"No strike, buddy. Better luck next time."
You and Jeonghan continued going back and forth like this for a few rounds. Jeonghan had still had six character cards flipped up, whereas you only had one. You were about to go in for the kill.
"Is your person Charlotte?"
Finally! You beat Jeonghan!
"Oh, I'm sorry. That's incorrect," he smirked.
Your eyes grew wide as they flickered between the game board and Jeonghan. That was impossible. You had literally one character card left. Your eyes narrowed on him as he just sat there with a wide grin on his lips. He had his elbows resting on the table as he watched I amusement.
"You said honest and fair this time," you whined. "And I have been honest! You were asking for my person, and all the things you were asking did not match up with who I selected." "Oh really now? Okay smartass, prove it."
Gladly.
Very slowly, Jeonghan got up to make his way over to you. You raised an eyebrow, but with each step he took towards you, your heart beats faster and harder. What was he doing? You wanted to question him but you were drawn speechless. Again. Only Yoon Jeonghan could make you tongue-tied. It was as if you were glued to your seat too as you watched him make the short journey from his end of the table towards yours.
"I'll describe my person to you. Maybe you accidentally flipped them down."
His voice was now softer, almost deeper. What is going on? All you could do was nod your head, eyes trained on him in anticipation.
"My person also has these eyes that quite literally are like two disco balls. They capture whatever light is reflected into them. I can't even tell you what color their eyes are because I've never see a shade like it before. But it is my favorite color." He had now approached your side the table, leaning against it as he looked down at you. "And just as bright of a smile to match."
You wanted to melt into a puddle before him with how warm and fuzzy he makes you feel by just doing the simplest of things. It wasn't fair.
"My person has long hair. Sometimes they curl it, somewhat they straighten it. Each time though, I want to run my fingers through it."
As he spoke, he lifted on hand to run through your hair. He tucked a few strands behind your ear. His fingertips moved forward until they grazed against your cheek. He didn't miss the opportunity to cup your cheek, keeping your head tilted up towards him so you couldn't look away no matter how badly you got flustered.
"My person also has this infectious laughter that makes me want to know every little joke, every little secret they might have. She also has this adventurous, competitive side of her that is so attractive. I think you two would get along just fine," he winked.
Your lips were slightly parted as you gazed up at him. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way this was actually happening.
"Y/n, you asked for my person. It's been you this whole time," he whispered.
For the first time, he seemed almost at a loss for words. It as if he couldn't believe he actually confessed to you. And now that his feelings were out in the open, he was afraid of the repercussions of being so vulnerable with you. His biggest fear was losing you, and he was afraid he was heading in that direction.
Slowly, you stood up. In fear, Jeonghan removed his hand from your face. Fuck, how can I fix this?
Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he didn't hesitate to hold your waist. He looked at you with excitement now in eyes, almost like a little boy on Christmas Day. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he looked.
"What are you waiting for, Hannie? You've got me where you've always wanted to me," you whispered.
He didn't need to be told twice. Ever so gently, as if you were made out of glass, he pressed his lips against yours. He couldn't fight the smile that grew on his lips. He squeezed your hips affectionately before pulling you in closer. You tilted your head at the right angle to kiss him deeply, without holding back anymore.
The feeling was indescribable. It was a mixture of joy and relief, knowing that years of pining after you finally amounted to this moment. He could really let every emotion, every thought of you free and not just dwell in his mind. And the best part was that it was reciprocated.
You were the one to break the kiss at first but kept your face close to his. You wore a similar goofy smile, just as in disbelief that you kissed not only your best but but the man of your dreams.
"I can't believe you used a board game to confess your feelings to me." "But it looks like I won after all," he smirked.
You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up to press your lips against his again.
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luvsfics · 3 months
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ok so slytherin boys and female / nb reader royal au 😩 (separately?)
SLYTHERIN BOYS ROYALTY AU —
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Different royalty tropes that I think fit with the slytherin boys!
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DRACO MALFOY — servant x prince
“Good evening, my prince.” You said as you began to make up his messy bed, as he had just awaken from a long night of council meetings with his father and lords that resided in the kingdom.
“Evening, sweet girl.” He said with a smirk as he tugged on a robe to give him some modesty as he was only wearing sleeping shorts.
He poured himself some wine and sat down beside his fireplace and watched as the flames flickered and burned the wood.
“How was your sleep?” You asked, fluffing out the pillows before organizing them on the big bed.
“It was fine, though that council meeting was exhausting.” He mentioned.
“Well, it will prepare you to be king.” You added. You picked up some of his dirty clothes off the floor and tossed them in a linen basket to clean.
He only huffed at your words. During your affections, he would mention how he didn’t think he would be a good king, how the people loved his father too much.
You set the basket on the bed and stepped towards the man in the chair. You stood in front of him and watched as he looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours.
You sat yourself down onto his lap, taking his face into your grasp, “you will be a good king, I know it.”
“When I am king, I will marry you.” He said, pressing a kiss onto your palm.
“You cannot marry me, I am merely a maid.” You said with a saddened expression, your brows furrowed.
“That doesn’t matter to me, the only thing that matters is my love for you.” He placed a hand over yours.
You smashed your lips onto his, his hands traveling down to your hips to pull you closer. If only he could become king quicker so you both could be each others.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE — arranged marriage
“Hello, husband.” You said as you walked into your husband’s rather large office. He was studying books and accounts of other lords in the country.
“Hello, sweet wife.” He said as his attention stayed on his studies.
You approached the back of his chair, you hands found their way to his shoulders. You began to massage his tense shoulders, he let out a huff, tossing the pen down and relaxing into the chair, letting you work your magic on his sore muscles.
You both had been married for a few months are he had courted you for a few months before that. Your family was wealthy and as was his, that’s why your fathers had decided on the marriage.
You had become good friends and grown to care for each other. That had blossomed into love soon after the marriage ceremony, making both of your families proud that the marriage wouldn’t be a fail.
“You must come to bed with me, it is late.” You said as you rubbed out a knot in his muscles.
“I will, my love. I just have to get this done.” He said before picking up the pen again.
You took your hands away and pulled him from the chair. It took you a minute to actually get him out of the chair but you did.
“Our fathers would be quite upset if you weren’t giving your wife the attention she deserves.” You smiled.
“You love using that against me,” he said as he pecked your soft lips, his hands trailing down to your hips.
You only smiled as you pressed another gentle kiss on his lips.
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THEODORE NOTT — princess x stable boy
“Good morning, princess.” Theo, the stable boy, said with a wink. You approached him as he was brushing one of the many horses the stable held, as your family could afford so many.
“Good morning to you, Theodore.” You said with a smile. You move towards the basket of carrots behind the man, grabbing one for the large brown horse.
You bring it up to its mouth, offering the carrot as a treat. The horse takes the vegetable and chewed it up into small pieces. You pet the top of the horses muzzle.
“She likes you.” He said as he stared at you, his thoughts telling him you were the most beautiful girl he had ever come across.
He continued to brush the horse, with a smirk on his lips as you gazed at each other.
You turned around, looking to see if anyone was nearby. Thankfully, the stable area was empty, leaving the two of you alone.
You stepped closer to him, “I have missed you, Theo.” You shyly played with your fingers.
He took one of his fingers and tilted your head up to look him in the eye, “I have missed you too, sweet princess.”
“We have not had a lesson in a while,” you pointed out.
“Perhaps we should have one soon.” He said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, remembering the times you both shared falling in love.
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BLAISE ZABINI — princess x knight
“Come back, princess!” Your personal knight, Blaise shouted as you ran through the halls of your family’s castle.
You giggled at the sound of him huffing and picking up his own feet to chase after you.
You raced through the corridors as the men in armor ran after you, you liked this game of cat and mouse, it excited you.
“Princess!” He called out down the hall, his exasperated expression only made you giggle harder, your dress flowing behind you in the wind as you ran.
You found your way to a small and empty hall, which overlooked a Great Lake, a beautiful sight to see in the sunset.
You panted as you saw the sun reflecting off of the gorgeous waters, the mountains in the background giving the view an everlasting beauty that you have never seen before.
“Princess, you must not run from me.” Blaise huffed, hands on his hips as he began to scold you.
Before he does, your lips smash onto his. Since the halls were empty, you could show your affections without judgment.
His hands gripped your waist and pulled you in, pressing himself into you and your lips touched in the most sensual way before slowly pulling away.
“You are…such a pain!” He cried.
“But you love me,” you smiled.
“That, I do.”
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE — princess x baker
“I’m in need of pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts, sandwiches, and pumpkin juice.” You said as you read off the list you had written earlier on parchment.
Enzo wiped off his hands with a rag after he had finished washing them, “anything else, princess?”
You shook your head, handing him the piece of parchment before grabbing your basket that you brought with you. You scanned through the shelves full of fresh fruit like apples and berries, picking out the best looking ones for your picnic with your friends.
The Berkshire’s were bakers for the castle, they baked every pastry and sweets for events and whenever the royal family wanted.
What your parents, the king and queen, didn’t know is that you and the bakers son had a secret relationship you had hidden away.
You felt a pair of lips on your neck, startling you. A pair of strong arms crept around your waist and pulled you against their chest.
“Enzo!” You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips on your skin.
“You’re supposed to be baking my sweets!” You said as you playfully pushed his face away from you.
He huffed, “but you are the sweetest thing in this room.” He smiled as he spun you around and took your chin into his grasp, placing a delicate kiss on your soft lips.
“You charm me, my love.” You smile.
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houseofoddballs · 3 months
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Fuck it. Trauma bond Ghoap with a forgotten reader because all I can write is angst. Final word count is about 3,700, enjoy! Sorry about the lackluster ending and fair warning that Soap is a bit of a dick and fairly OOC.
Tw: Emptional neglect, light nsfw, mentions of torture. (Tell me if there are any more to add!)
You had never heard of trauma bonding, not before your 6'2 masked boyfriend brought back his Scottish best friend. Ghost was never one to be shy or sheepish, but the way that he bowed his head as he told you that he had fallen in love with Soap during their capture and torture, well, it broke your heart a bit. You thought that was going to be the end of it, that he was going to choose the mowhawked muscle over you (and you couldn't really blame him after the small tidbits about the incident you had heard) but then Ghost dropped to one knee and held your hands in his own as he looked you dead in the eyes and begged you not to make him choose, because he still loved you too. And how were you supposed to turn him down?
So, that's how you ended up living with two discharged military men. At first, things were a little rocky. You and Soap were getting along and getting to know each other after all. You weren't exactly dating Soap, but the threesomes made it hard to understand what exactly you were. Polygamy? It didn't matter, though, because Ghost was the one you loved. Ghost was the man who had stolen your heart and treated it like a golden retriever treats eggs. Gently, softly, sweetly. And you had done your best to do the same.
But Soap? Soap was... different. Where Simon was quiet and calm, Soap was loud and boisterous. Where Simon was introverted and kept to himself, Soap was ambiverted (at best) and loved social media. They were like night and day in a lot of ways, and it made your head spin. Another difference? Soap was SO *clingy*.
It was ok at first. Apparently, Simon and Soap had been captured for nearly a week and took turns watching each other get tortured. In the dead of night, when they got any reprieve, they spent that time whispering sweet words to each other just to keep them level-headed and alive. Trauma bonding. Ghost and Soap were bound to be connected at the hip for at least a bit. Right?
Well, 'just a bit' turned into months. Inseparable. You couldn't get five seconds alone with your boyfriend unless Soap was in the bathroom because he refused to do anything without Ghost.
That would have been OK if you didn't see how much it was wearing on your sweet Simon. Any time you got a minute alone together, he would gently hold your face and apologize to you. Murmur to you with his brows knit up about how exhausting Soap could be and how soothing your quiet company was.
He was burnt-out. No other way to put it. In the fleeting moments you got where you could hold Ghost and do things with him, he was simply exhausted and worn-out from Johnny clinging so tightly to him and making him a part of everything in his life. Simon was definitely an introvert, and hardly ever got time to recharge those batteries on touch and the like.
So what did you do? You gave him space. The time you got to spend alone was spent at a distance, small conversations about the things that interested Ghost, since Soap hardly ever talked about those. You had asked why Johnny was still here if he was really making Ghost so miserable, and all he had told you was that he couldn't leave Johnny, couldn't hurt him. So, you relented and just tried to be supportive. You could be happy like this.
Except you weren't. One can only live on table scraps for so long, but you were willing to try for Ghost, and even for Soap. So when Johnny told Simon that it was irritating how little alone time the two of them got because you were always hanging around and asked him to have a talk with you about it, what did he do? Well, he didn't defend you, that's for sure.
Groceries. How pathetic. Soap finally let you and Ghost get *Groceries* together, just the two of you, and your heart utterly soared. Just you and Simon, for possibly an hour. How long had it been since you could do this? How long had it been since you had even hugged or been hugged by your boyfriend? You had no idea.
But all of that went cold as you finished loading your haul into the trunk. Simon turned to you, dark eyes peeking out from behind his Skull balaclava that he only took off at home. He looked so tired, so exhausted.
"Listen, love... Johnny-..." You froze. Of course, you should have known better. No way Soap would let you and Ghost go somewhere together alone while he just sat at home scrolling through short clips on his phone. Of course, there was a condition, a caviot. But this was Simon, your Ghost, so you heard him out. "Johnny was wondering if you could... give us a bit more space. He feels like he doesn't get enough alone time with me. I'm sorry, love, I promise that I'll make it up to you."
If your heart hadn't sunk into your stomach, you would have had to resist the urge to laugh. Soap wasn't getting enough time with Ghost? The same Soap who had been draining every ounce of willpower out of Ghost until your strong-willed Simon was just complacent? The same Soap who drug Simon wherever he went and whined when you wanted to come with? The same Soap who had kicked you out of your shared room for reasons that you still don't know how he convinced Simon? And yet, he didn't get enough alone time with Simon.
You wanted to scream, to cry, to do or say anything to fight back. But one more look into Simon's weary, amber eyes shut down all of your complaints. He was slowly being worn down, and you didn't know what you could do to help. So, you just nodded.
The entire drive back was silent. At some point, you had reached over and gently held Simon's hand on the center console to let him know that you weren't mad, and he had let you. Your first physical contact with Simon in ages. You helped carry in and put away the groceries, acutely aware of Soaps eyes boring into and watching you for your next move, and then you simply retreated to your room. Alone.
That night, you had to listen as the two made love. Headboard banging against the wall, soft moans permeating through your headphones and into your ears, vibrations buzzing and echoing through the halls. You cred that night, just like so many other nights.
You were being forgotten, forced into invisibility in your own house.
And that's how so many months passed by. With you hiding away in your room and only coming out to eat or eagerly take Johnny's table scraps of Ghost's time. But Ghost hardly ever got any time to himself, so, sometimes you would just let him be and relax. Maybe it was simply time for you to move on.
That's when the texts came. Any time Johnny was gracious enough to give Ghost a moment of peace and you either didn't know or just let him relax, he would text you. "Johnny's still at work." "I miss you, love." "I'm on the couch." "Come see me?"
He was making you feel loved, needed even. Even though most of that time spent was him complaining about Soap, every time he would look at you with those soft brown heart melting eyes and thank you for being so understanding and supportive. He would tell you that he loved you so much and that you didn't know how much having you there kept him sane. And how could you leave him like that?
You wished that you had made Simon choose. Nearly five years of this neglect. Simon was so physically overstimulated by Johnny's constant need to be touching him, that something as small as resting your hand on his thigh made him irritable. Johnny would openly complain about you right in front of you, and Ghost would just sigh and let Johnny think he was having his way because it was better than fighting and dealing with Johnny being bitter and whiny.
It was fucking torture. Do you know what that's like? To be slowly isolated and forgotten in your own household? Yes, you do. Because Johnny has made sure of that. Are you going out too much? Johnny is complaining. Are you working too much? Johnny is complaining. You watch too many shows with them? Johnny is complaining. It was getting to the point where you only left your room to eat and when Simon texted you, period. Soap had insisted that with him and Ghost working civilian jobs, you should stay home to keep things tidy and make life a little easier. All it had taken was for Ghost to agree that that would make things easier for you to relent since your job wasn't the best anyway. But the pure isolation that you felt from only interacting with the two of them unless Johnny was gracious enough to let you come with them on an errand?
It was debilitating.
Finally, everything came to a head. "Hey Johnny, would you go to the corner store and pick up some soda?" "Would you come with?" "I would have bloody come with three hours ago right after work. Now I'm in my fuckin' pajamas. Not goin' anywhere like this." "Well, you know I dinnae like going right after work, Simon."
This was your opportunity, your chance. Soap was nose deep in some book he was reading and only half paying attention while you sat next to Simon on the couch, his feet propped up on your lap.
"I would go with you?" Simon's eyes flicked to you, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah, love, that would be great. Mind makin' a list for me so I know what all we need to pick up?" A task. You loved when Simon gave you things to do, because whith those things to do was always some form of praise or appreciation upon completion. You ate it up whole and completely. "Of course, Si. I'll be ready by five tomorrow." "It's a date then, love."
And so, that's how you flitted around the house all day, straightening up and making a list of what you needed, absolutely giddy and buzzing wirh hopeless excitement. Soap got home early that day, which wasn't much of a shock, just made you retreat into your room early. Nothing new. Simon would text you when he was ready, right?
You sat by your phone eagerly with baited breath. 5:30. You guessed that work had kept Simon late again. It wasn't that big of a deal. But you sent him a text just to let him know that you hadn't forgotten about him. "I'm ready whenever you get off work, no rush. I love you."
5:30 turned to 6:00 and that's when you finally got the message. "I'm here." Short, sweet, to the point. That was Simon for you. You practically threw yourself off of your bed and ran to the garage with a large grin on your face. Even if it was as simple as groceries, you cherished every moment of time you got with Simon as if it were spending time with God himself. Because, in a way, Simon was your God. You looked up to him, depended on him, revered him, practically worshipped the ground he walked on; because he deserved it in your eyes.
Your grin fell at the sight before you. "Oh, hey Bonnie." Soap was hopping out of the passenger seat of Ghost's Jeep, going around to the trunk and popping it to pull out several grocery bags. Hurt, confusion, and betrayal all pooled together in your gut as you watched him take the bags inside all in one go. But, what about your list? Your phone felt heavier in your pocket as your stomach churned at the realization that to bring up the completion of the task would be pointless now.
"Hop in." Ghosts voice shook you from your haze, and you slowly took Soap's empty seat beside Ghost. Why? The question swam through your head in several versions and variations, like fish in a barrel, trying desperately to find the freedom to burst forth from your lips. But, you just couldn't ask, too afraid of the answer.
"Where do you want to go?" The question almost caught you off-guard. Where did you want to go? Did he mean Groceries? Were there some left? Or did he mean just in general? Was he offering to do something with you? "I um, I don't know." You admitted, eyes flicking between Simon and the road.
"...'M sorry love." He admitted with a sigh, shoulders sagging with the weight of the world placed upon them. "There was a bit of a mix-up, ya see? I got home and texted Johnny to ask if he would ask if you were coming-" Of course, the plan had been to bring Soap all along. That hurt a bit. "- and he told me 'no' so I thought he meant that you didn't want to come."
"I didn't get your message until we were already in the bloody market, and when I asked Johnny about it, he told me that he had told me that he didn't ask you. I felt so plum bad because I knew that you wanted to come with. 'M so sorry, love."
You were so close to losing it. Hot tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall when Simon was trying so hard, going so far as to take you for an extra drive just to make sure you had some time with him and felt loved.
"I already told Johnny, so he knows that I'm spending some time with you. Tried to throw a fit, but I shut him down." Simon sighed and ran a hand down his mask as he looked over at you while stopped at a red light. "It's ok, Simon, really. I'm just happy to spend this time together with you. That's all I can ask for. Even though you're tired after work and going for groceries, you're still taking the time to make it up to me even though it wasn't your fault. I really appreciate it."
Simon didn't pull away as you clasped his hand in your own, softly running your fingers over the back of his knuckles. He looked so grateful and relieved, as if so much pressure had just been released. He had been so worried about how you were going to take it, about if this small bit of time would be enough.
"Thank you, love. You have no idea how much I appreciate you and how-" Simon was cut off by a loud click and a light being turned on on his dashboard. "Bloody hell, check engine? I'm so sorry. It doesn't seem too big a deal, but I should probably check it out before it becomes an issue. Is that OK, love?"
What were you supposed to say? 'No!' 'For the first time in months, I get some time alone with you, and it's just 20 minutes in a car!?' 'I miss you' 'please don't!' You couldn't. Simon was tired enough as it was with Soap clinging to him. You simply felt dejected as you tried to smile and reassure him that it was ok and that you enjoyed your time together.
When you got home, Simon muttered about checking the engine tomorrow as he herded you inside, plopping down on the couch next to Soap. The sight made your heart hurt even more. You were ready to just head to your cold, lonely room to cry out your frustration when Simon piped up. "Hey, love, mind cooking up some chips for me? I'm bloody starving, and they sound wonderful."
How could you say no? Sitting in your kitchen waiting for the French fries to bake, you couldn't do it anymore. You sobbed quietly into your open palm as you clasped your hand over your mouth to quiet any noises. What were you supposed to do? Staying was only wearing you down and tearing you apart. You felt more like the ghost in this household, forgotten and lost. You were losing yourself, touch starved beyond belief and to the point of isolation where you were starting to sleep more than you were awake because it made the pain go away for a bit.
But leaving would be just as hard. You hadn't been employed for so long because the boys took care of you, which wasn't going to look good on a resume, and you had nowhere to go. But worst of all?
Worst of all was how you knew your leaving would affect Simon. Johnny was consuming all of him and leaving mere shreds, and the only time that Ghost got to indulge in his own interests was with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Johnny. You were his support system, his pillar.
You knew this, and yet, it still felt so unfair. Simon was everything to you. When you had been at your worst, he had held you and told you that you were beautiful. When he had been deployed for months at a time, you always texted him and told him how much you loved and missed him. He gave all of himself that he had to give to you before Soap came and statched that all away.
And you couldn't blame Simon for how badly the trauma had messed him up! He still had nightmares about that week. Being tortured and having to watch Soap get tortured as well. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night to one of them screaming and waking up on a picnic only for the other to softly murmur and reassure them that they were ok and alive. You couldn't do that, not for Simon, not like Soap could.
A sharp 'ding' cut off your thoughts as the oven beeped, signaling the end of the potato strings furnace treatment. You pulled them out of the oven and put them on a plate, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up. The time for your little mental breakdown was up. Now you had to go take the fries to Simon like you weren't just bawling, like you were perfectly fine and happy, like you didn't want to scream and shout and beg for things to be different, to change. But that would be selfish of you to do, and Simon couldn't deal with you and Soap both being selfish.
God, you looked like shit. Bags were heavy under your puffy eyes, your nose was red and runny, your face all splochy from your crying, tear streaks running down your cheeks. This wouldn't do. You sighed as you splashed some cold water on your face and took a deep breath, trying desperately to distance yourself and disassociate from these awful feelings.
Once you were sure you looked fine once more, you towled your face off and grabbed the plate, plastering on your 'I'm fine' smile as you took the french fries to Ghost. The way he smiled so softly and gently at you made it all worth it, made you temporarily forget all of that pain. "Thank you, love. You're welcome to stay?"
"No, thank you, I think I'm going to try and catch up in some games. Thank you, though." Ghost didn't press any, didn't ask again. You wished he would ask again, would even try just a bit to make you feel like he loved you a shred as much as you revered him. But you had to remind yourself that you were getting greedy. He had just taken you for a car ride just the two of you, he had just stood up to Soap so you two could have a bit of time alone, he had just done exactly what you were asking him for. And yet you still wanted more.
The realization that you felt terrible for wanting the bare minimum amount of attention and affection for a relationship was just another reminder of how unhealthy this was for you.
"I love you." Simon said, his eyes so soft and sweet. "I love you too." You had to hold back tears as your smile grew a little bit, and you turned. You couldn't even wait until you made it back to your room to start crying. It wasn't fair. You did everything right, did everything Simon asked, and asked nothing in return, you loved him unconditionally with all of your heart and gave all of yourself to him; meanwhile Soap didn't even care enough to give Simon personal space when they were together because it made HIM feel better. And yet, Soap was the one who got all of Simon's time and love simply because it was easier for Simon to cave to his whims than put up with his bitching. You couldn't handle it anymore! Couldn't take it!
But what were you supposed to do? What could you do? Nothing. The only thing you could do was throw a fit, and that would just wear Simon even thinner and wouldn't accomplish anything because things would be the same again within a month.
And so, you did the only thing you could do. You fell asleep crying again, clutching your pillow to your chest, wishing desperately that Simon would finally come to his senses and put you first for once. But you didn't fool yourself into believing it.
Only shooting stars Grant wishes, and all of yours had been shot down.
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onlyswan · 11 months
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summary: in which you don’t want to give up on jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).
> idol!jungkook x reader, angst, fluff / word count: 7k
> warnings: tears overflowing </3 mentions of cheating (but again no one did it ok !!), heh judgemental family members amirite, is giving lipstick marks a warning ?
> in which masterlist!
note: anniversary reveal! and more of oc’s pov :( in the aftermath of in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much left to give !! it’s up to u which one to read first if u haven’t. the in which series is a puzzle 😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts after reading <3 hugs and kisses <3
“i feel like this shouldn’t be taking this long.” jungkook jokingly remarks as he pushes the shopping cart with folded arms, tiptoeing and tracing your steps as your eyes wander around the entire shelf of feline necessities.
“leave me alone. there’s too many options.” a huff escapes your mouth as your index finger underlines the flavors of cat treats, aiding you in reading the small words.
he pulls back the cart before it could collide with your hip, resting his chin on top of his arms as he impatiently waits for you to pick out a small gift for your friend’s cat, who you will be catsitting tomorrow.
“just pick the one with the happiest looking cat. that should make it easy, right?”
“jungkook!”
entertained by his own humor, his bright giggles harmonize with yours. eventually, you’re forced to sit on your toes so you can scan the other products shoved in the lowermost shelf.
“surprisingly, many of them don’t look that happy.” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself.
“baby?”
“yes?”
“i’m getting bored.” jungkook pouts sulkily, bouncing his leg. in the midst of spacing out, he spits out the first question that pops in his mind. “what crime would you get arrested for?”
“arson,” you answer with a shrug, perhaps a little too quickly. the most adorable packaging you’ve seen so far steals your attention, and it’s almost as if you’re being beckoned by the colorful jars of cat cookies.
tuna? salmon? or chicken?
“oh?” he perks up in intrigue, mouth gaping in surprise. “why didn’t i expect that? why arson?“
“i mean, nothing special. it just sounds efficient? it takes little work but creates colossal damage.”
his face lights up when you stand back on your feet, relieved that grocery shopping is almost over. you place the jar of your chosen flavor, tuna, in an unoccupied space in the shopping cart.
“but realistically? i’d probably burn down my building with my forgetfulness and then get framed for it. i imagine that sometimes when i cook.”
“who would frame you?! tell me, baby.“ he angrily yells in a whisper, a cheeky smile growing on his face. “i’ll investigate and take care of them. that’s what i will get arrested for.”
“damn, how romantic.” you reply teasingly, granting his lips a loving peck. afterwards, you whisper to him as if you’re trading a well-kept secret, hushed voice and squinted eyes. “later. i’ll show you which of my neighbors i suspect.”
“baby?” jungkook chirps the pet name one more time, seizing your hand and putting it under his so that he’s pushing the cart while holding hands with you.
you hum in acknowledgement, sparing him a short glance as you look around, just incase you find something else you need while you’re on your way to the counter.
“have you thought of anything you want for our second anniversary?” he asks with sparkling eyes, his excitement uncontainable as more days get crossed out from the calendar. “a gift? and where you want to go?”
and that’s when your calmness completely shifts into chaos. his questions are giant buckets filled with ice, callously dunked over your head without any sign or warning. your walking pace gradually slows down as his words sink in, and you drown in the tornado swirling violently in your chest.
“our… anniversary?” you choke out.
your evident confusion is met by jungkook’s disappointment, halting on his tracks as to not leave you behind. “yes, february 25. that’s in three months… have you forgotten?”
“excuse me-”
a middle-aged woman rudely pushes your back, and you apologize in panic as you face your boyfriend to provide her the space to pass through. your heart drops to your stomach when you notice his stoic expression, hurt and distant, before you allow yourself to be whisked away from the center of the aisles.
“babe, please don’t be mad. i swear, i didn’t forget!” you cling to his muscular arm, hugging it to your chest as you stand behind a long line of overflowing shopping carts. “i literally have all the 25th marked in my calendar. how could i forget?”
“ugh, you tell me.” he frowns at you, lightly bumping his head against yours.
“i just didn’t realize it’s that near already.” the half-lie, half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. “have you ever thought that time moves too fast when you’re happy and having fun? that’s exactly how i feel when i’m with you.”
yes, jungkook have thought of it a million times.
“fuck, alright, i’m not mad. you’re pretty good at this, huh?”
your sweet smile is pleasantly contagious. a flushed-face jungkook unconsciously copies you. he becomes pliant as you raise his arm to wrap it around you, stealing his body warmth this chilly november afternoon.
“i want to see a waterfalls with you. can we go there?”
he presses a kiss to your temple, unmoving for seconds, before he pulls away with a distinct smooching sound that fills your stomach with butterflies. “mhmm, niagara?”
you fail to hold back an amused snort, covering your mouth to prevent unwanted attention from strangers. “be serious. think local! we barely even go out of town!”
“but i’m serious.” he blinks at you. “we can just take pictures, have a dinner date, then go home!”
“you do know that it’s at the other side of the pacific, right?”
the cold breeze engulfs you in a big embrace as soon as you step out of the grocery store, carefree and unaware of its thorns prickling your skin. hand in hand, you and jungkook walk to his car parked two blocks away, carrying a plastic bag while he took the heavier two.
after putting out the small fire, your tumultuous emotions clamber to the surface, and it becomes increasingly difficult to hold them down the longer he’s around. the clouds are dark gray, as if they’re writing in pencil beforehand, my tears are about to fall. you feel stupidly envious of their ability to weep anytime they need to, in the face of the casualties. how nice would it be if you allowed yourself to be the same?
“this wasn’t here before. when did they open? let’s go inside for a bit.”
distracted by your stream of thoughts, you are guided inside an establishment with you only noticing belatedly. jungkook lets go of your hand to marvel at the collection of sunglasses displayed in extended rows. you stay idle by his side, watching him check himself out in the mirror as he tries them on one by one.
“that one looks good on you.” the praise automatically slips from your mouth when he wears a rectangle-shaped brown frame, more on the bigger side. as expected from your extremely handsome boyfriend, he makes it appear more stylish than it originally looked on the shelf.
“really? should i buy it?” he wears a radiant beam, repeatedly lifting it up and down as he inspects your face with and without the filtered lens.
“hm, i think so.” you skip over the grocery bags on the floor, squeezing in yourself in the small mirror. “here, look here again.”
jungkook rests his head on yours as he smiles at your reflections, tight-lipped, bringing out the most endearing set of dimples you’ve ever seen.
“why are you acting cute today?”
“i was just born this way.” he grins proudly. “and i guess i missed you.”
the ever-present sincerity in his voice adds weight to the heaviness chained to your heart, and you reward a kiss on his cheek to conceal your uneasiness, leaving a conspicuous lipstick mark in your wake.
“yah!” he lightheartedly scolds you with a chuckle, pushing up the sunglasses over his hair to examine his face.
you reflexively seize his wrist with an offended gasp. “hello? are you about to wipe off my kiss?”
“you can give me a thousand more in the car.“
“but that defeats the purpose.” you defeatedly answer as you let him go, witnessing your lipstick turn into a faint blush that compliments his honey skin. “oh, fine! i guess i’ll go window shopping over there.”
“where’s ‘over there’?”
he whips his head around to discover that you’ve disappeared.
you don’t flinch when you feel someone hold your waist. maybe you know it’s jungkook. maybe you know jungkook will die before he lets anyone else touch you in his presence.
“are you sure you won’t get anything?”
“i won’t. i just saw the hot air balloon two months ago.” you timidly shake your head as you return the sixth eyeglasses you tried on. “are we going home?”
your boyfriend responds by intertwining your fingers together.
“let me take this again then.” you reclaim the grocery bag you were with earlier, taking it upon yourself to hold the paper bag of his new sunnies as well, just to lighten his load. how the hell did he manage to carry everything in one hand?
your eyelids briefly flutter shut when he kisses your cheek. “thank you.”
when jungkook pushes the door open do you only hear the raindrops crashing on the pavement, splashes of cold water staining your denim pants as you stand under the canopy roof.
“shit, it’s so cold.” he shivers with a laugh as you simultaneously pull your hoods over your heads. “carry the bags on your other side.”
“why?” you ask innocently, but you do as he says anyway, not seeing any reason not to.
“just because.” he transfers to your right, capturing your free hand to put it inside the front pocket of his hoodie along with his. “let’s go!”
and you know the probability of you buying cold medicine for two in twenty-four hours is high, but this moment feels like it could last forever — running under the rain with him and feeling overwhelmingly alive, heart and soul; realizing halfway that he switched positions so he’d be the one closer to the busy and slippery road. they have wild similarities: nature and jungkook. a breath of fresh air. stars. the candied scent of flowers. dulcet sounds. warmth. home. resourcefulness. whimsical. unstoppable force. they devastate you catastrophically without meaning to. sometimes you overthink that they do. sometimes you know them and sometimes you don’t. you’re part of the problem but it’s hard to admit.
jungkook drives ten times more carefully. the rain is pouring harder as the seconds fly by, giving the radio speakers of his car a run for their money. the twenty-five minute drive to your apartment is nothing short of torturous, tinted windows too blurry and too reminiscent of memories you’ve been trying to push into the recesses of your mind. but they’re out of control, ceaselessly replaying in your head, and you can still see his tear-stained face even when you close your eyes. the windshield wipers are working hard but the sky is remorseless.
“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”
“i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”
he’s wrong. you so strongly wish that he’s wrong.
you swallow the lump in your throat, chewing your bottom lip harshly, but the thread you’ve been hanging on has been snipped. you begin to cry silently, curled up on the passenger seat and face hidden by the hood you haven’t taken off. you pretend to be asleep as jungkook softly hums the tune of the songs playing in the radio. you feel so fucking suffocated. you hate this car. you hate the rain. you hate that you’re being this way. you feel guilty that your boyfriend is excited for your second anniversary while you’re stuck up in the past. you feel ashamed of feeling, almost.
you don’t know how to tell him that you’re sad because you love him. and even sadder when he thoughtfully wraps you in a blanket in the middle of a red light, stroking your back as he whispers. “my baby must be so tired.”
the rain has become a clement drizzle by the time you arrive at your destination. standing before your apartment unit, jungkook sets down the grocery bags on the floor to take off the wax cord necklace hidden underneath his clothing. he uses the pendant, his copy of your house key, to unlock the front door.
you slip off the loose sneakers on your feet by the floor mat before heading straight to the bedroom. you hang your boyfriend’s backpack on your study chair and place his paper bag on top of your desk. he enters the room when you’re already pulling the thick hoodie over your head, leaving you in a navy blue body-hugging top.
“love, are you okay?” he asks as he brings out fresh clothes from his backpack, looking over your sprawled out figure on the bed, eyes shut and breathing heavy.
“i’m alright.” you force yourself to sit up, sliding off the bed to stand on your feet. your head is pounding and you want to puke your guts out. is it normal to experience such heartache that you feel physically sick? “i’ll put away the groceries.”
“okay. i’ll be there to start cooking dinner!”
you merely nod, brushing past him.
you begin with restocking the fridge. meat, eggs, yogurt, almond milk, fruits, and the like. jungkook arrives when you’re already unpacking the second bag, and his first instinct is to affectionately hug you from behind. after too many days physically apart, he’ll be damned if he’ll allow even an inch of distance between your bodies.
your actions are put on halt when his palm presses on your neck, and then the back of it. “why do you feel so warm? don’t you feel sick?”
it was the final blow. to be honest, it’s been long overdue. you’re frozen in place, defeated as one by one, the tears finally drip from your damp eyelashes. they roll down your cheeks, some crashing on the table and seeping into the wood to form tiny circles of a darker shade of brown. the rest of them rolls down to the hand that is checking your temperature. you sniffle before he can question the new sensation on his skin.
“hey- hey, what’s wrong? are you crying?“ he moves to your side for a better view of your face, but you shake your head in denial. “what happened? baby?”
“nothing.” you mutter, brushing him off.
you gather the bottles of soy sauce and vinegar, wiggling out his hold to place them in the shelf above the stove. you return to the table to pick up the stuff that goes in the cabinets, but jungkook catches your wrist, removing the pack of sliced bread from your hand.
“i thought we’re not supposed to shut each other out.” he whispers, pulling you closer and guiding your arms around his waist. “it breaks my heart when you cry, baby.”
his doe eyes are pleading as he tilts up your chin to meet his gaze, thumb softly drawing circles on the apple of your cheek. you feel so utterly lost, overwhelmed by his gestures of kindness and affection. and yet you cry, because if he loved you that much, how did breaking up became an option he was willing to choose?
“our anniversary…” you trail off, ripping apart at the seams. “it still counts.”
neither of you knows if it’s a statement or a question.
“it still counts.” he nods slowly, repeating your words. “sh-should it not?”
his heart races in his chest as fear creeps up on him, dreading your answer. did he fuck up again? but your response only leaves him with more questions floating above his head.
“if we only had a pause- does that mean you… didn’t try looking for someone else? right? you didn’t sleep with anyone? while we were…”
for a moment, jungkook forgets how to speak as silence reigns over. his forehead creases in confusion, a sharp pang digging in his heart like a dagger as you wait with bated breath.
“no. why would you ev- no. no, i didn’t. where is this coming from?” his round, agitated eyes search for a clue in your expression but you don’t allow him that privilege, impassive as you withdraw from the close proximity between you.
“it doesn’t matter, that’s all i needed. thank you for answering.” you sigh heavily, turning on your heel to head to the bathroom. “i’m going to wash up.“
“____, come on. don’t walk away from me.” he almost begs out of desperation as his fingers curl around your arm, itching to embrace you because serrated trepidation is gnawing at his insides. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he won’t let you slip away.
you sigh. “let go, jungkook.”
“how can i let you walk away after learning that you think i cheated on you?” he frustratedly blurts out, the words revolting on his tongue. this was never supposed to happen. he was supposed to be a partner who never gave you any reason to question his faithfulness. “that doesn’t matter?”
“it doesn’t.” you assert firmly.
jungkook is scared. he doesn’t understand how you can look at him like this, pretend you’re not wounded and bleeding. he doesn’t know if you’re giving him a pass or if you’re punishing him.
“either way, you broke up with me, jungkook… i would hate it, but it wouldn’t have been cheating.”
“it is to me.” his hauntingly angelic voice shatters, along with your fragile hearts as he says- “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.”
sorrow seeps into the silence, permeating the cold air, thick with heartache and tension. you walk away from him wordlessly, and jungkook is taken aback, vision blurred and unfocused as his hand drops to his side, devastatingly dejected.
“____!” your name fades into a muffled noise.
the doorknob clicks when you lock it. numb as your feet carry you to the sink, numb as you twist the faucet until you can’t anymore. the strong pressure of the water hitting the porcelain echoes throughout the dimly-lit bathroom. you tightly grip the edge of the sink as you fall apart disastrously, like a wave blazing past the shore and destroying everything in its path with ferociousness — because it’s the only thing left it knows how to do. your endless tears turn the cold tap water into saltwater. it inevitably overflows, spilling over the edges and soaking your trembling hands.
when he broke up with you, it opened the door to many other possibilities that hurts you to think about. you thought you knew, too. but the seed of doubt was planted in your mind when you were forsaken, and it kept growing as a wildflower even when he came back and laid beside you after not reaching out for weeks.
the last time you cried like this, you begged him to allow you to keep loving him.
your weak knees give in to the pull of gravity, heedless of nasty bruises as you cover your mouth to restrain your afflicted sobbing, nails scratching the porcelain as your lone hand insists on holding you up. sometimes love is not a warm comforting embrace. sometimes love is teeth. sometimes love is biting and perversely holding on. were you not worth fighting for? this time around, can he sacrifice something else instead of you? does that make you sound selfish? what if you don’t care that it does? and you wonder if it’s alright for two people to be in a relationship despite having different ideas of what loving means. you wonder if you’ve truly changed his mind.
outside, jungkook anxiously paces back and forth. the piercing sob that tears itself from your throat and crawls through the small cracks of the door is a direct, forceful punch to his gut. he swallows thickly, wiping away the tears brimming his eyes. he can’t cry, not right now. four months have passed, but it isn’t time’s job to heal all wounds. it’s his.
“what are you making?”
jungkook’s bubble pops when he hears your voice. he didn’t even realize when the shower stopped running, too absorbed in the kitchen so that he won’t intrude into your boundaries despite his restlessness. he takes you in, clad in your silk pajamas, before looking back at the bowl of dark brown batter he’s been tirelessly stirring and folding to incorporate the ingredients together.
“brownies.”
“all of a sudden? thought you were going to make dinner.” you leave no space between the two of you as you dip in the tip of your pinky finger for a taste.
that was the original plan, but he knows that you like to consume sweets when you’re feeling down.
“i’m about to. are you hungry?“ he speaks in a subdued voice, gingerly rubbing your lower back. “i’m putting this in the oven now.“
“can i help?”
jungkook dies a little inside when your eyes meet and he notices that yours are swollen, yet still gleaming with affection.
“you can, uhm, peel the potatoes?”
you curiously look back to see the ingredients for gamjatang, pork bone soup, laid out on the dining table. “okay.”
as you begin to diligently do the task you were assigned, he transfers the batter to the pan covered with parchment paper before pushing it inside the pre-heated oven. the faint pitter-patter of the rain fills the apartment as the clouds squall once more. he occupies the seat next to you, entire body facing you as his arm rests on top of the backrest of your chair.
“don’t you want to talk about it?”
you frown, briefly pausing as you ponder so you won’t cut yourself. “no, i want to… i just needed time to think.”
he grows quiet, biting at his nails as he watches your hands smoothly peel off the skin of a potato using a paring knife.
“it matters to me.” he’s been dying to say. “____, you know that i love you, right?”
you thought you had no tears left in you, but your face is feeling hot yet again.
“i know.”
“i did a shitty job at showing it because i was stupid, but it never stopped being true.” he says, steady and sure, doe eyes longing to read your mind. “i love you so much, hm…? i love you.”
“i know. that’s why i’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
a small bitter smile appears on your face as you pick up another potato to peel.
“the other day, your aunt told me you went on dates… she even showed me old pictures of you and the girl together then apologized to me-” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “for setting you up, because she thought i got what i wanted from you and finally backed off. but none of your friends ever mentioned this person to me… or you… that’s why i couldn’t- i couldn’t… it was embarrassing.”
it’s hilarious, really, how you were scared shitless of jungkook’s parents not approving of you, but you failed to consider his relatives. you can’t shake off the subtle looks indicating that you were dirt on her shoe, the honeyed condescending tone that made you feel small and hollow as you sat with her at the bus stop, completely clueless as she rambled. you wanted to laugh, cry, and curse up a storm. and you would’ve chased after her when she went to ride the bus without giving you the opportunity to stand up for yourself, but you had to remind yourself that your actions might taint people’s perception of jungkook, and you couldn’t risk that.
“baby- baby, look at me. please.”
he carefully pries away the potato and the knife from your hands, cupping your face in his big palms. you gaze at him wide-eyed as you ground yourself by clutching onto his wrist. your loud heartbeat pounds in your ears because it’s not always that you can look at each other like this, meeting halfway, seeing more than feeling.
his eyebrows are closely knitted, nose scrunching and barely blinking as he sets the record straight.
“it was one time. she’s been trying to set us up since forever, then… then she planned a date during the time we weren’t talking without even confirming with me… it was a place outside the company, so i just went to say it was a misunderstanding and i’m taken! i felt embarrassed because it’s a family friend. nothing more…” he caresses you tenderly, feeling a pinch in his chest as he tries to put himself in your shoes. “i promise, love, i left after like two minutes. why would i go on dates when i was losing my mind, hm? i was missing you like crazy.”
you melt into him when he crosses the short distance between you, pressing his soft lips on yours for a kiss that makes the whole world quiet. your noses brush each other before he withdraws.
“she left out that part, didn’t she?” he rhetorically asks with venom stirred in his otherwise dulcet voice.
you purse your lips into a thin line.
“seriously, this- this is ridiculous… this is bullshit. she really did it this time. ah, i’m angry! does this even make sense? what’s the point of all that?” jungkook huffs with a sarcastic chuckle as he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing and tugging to release his growing frustration somehow.
this is why his lover has been doubtful of his devotion? he has known his aunt since he learned how to recognize faces, and he knows that it takes a whole lot for you to reach this breaking point. he can only imagine the interaction that took place, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.
you’ve seen the good and the bad, and you focus on the good, and you stay with him despite despite despite.
he takes a deep breath to compose himself, and then his tongue prods the inside of his cheek as his determined eyes search for his phone. he quickly snatches it from the table and stands up, the screen coming to life as he unlocks it with his thumb’s fingerprint. “i’ll be right back, baby.”
“jungkook,” you call out his name as a warning, grasping his wrist before he can go too far. “don’t act rashly.”
“i’m not! i’d go to busan but i’ll put that off because i’d rather spend my day-off with you.”
you don’t know what you were expecting his reaction would be, but it’s not a great leap to say that he is furious, pending to explode.
“i’ve been nothing but polite even though she was fucking badgering me non-stop, but i won’t let her think that it’s okay to treat you like that… she doesn’t have the right to meddle with my life, and she can’t disrespect the most important person to me. i-i-” he pauses to breathe, chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. “i won’t allow it.”
you are his calmness and he is the storm.
his voice wavers by the end of his sentence, doe eyes turning glassy as he sincerely confesses, which is probably why this isn’t the right time for you to smile like a lovesick highschooler with a crush. this is exactly what you tried to avoid, making a mess and a series of uncomfortable holidays, so why does it have to feel good to hear him say that?
you nod with understanding as you free his wrist. “okay. don’t take too long.”
jungkook heads to the front door before his anger can be erased by his adoration for you, so endearing as you peel small potatoes like you had all the time in the world.
as he steps outside, the raucous rain rings in your ears and its distinct smell mixed with the soil enters the apartment.
you cluelessly blink at the ingredients surrounding you as you mutter to yourself. “how many of these am i supposed to peel again?”
jungkook returns after a phone call that went longer than planned, but not before wiping the wet floor from both sides of your front door to avoid accidents. he discovers you squatting infront of the unlocked kitchen oven.
“what are you doing?” he asks with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“it’s baked…” you raise the toothpick you poked the brownie with, tilting your head to the side. “right?“
“oh, it is! let’s take it out.”
he rushes to the counter to wear oven mitts, and you stand aside so he can carry out the pan from the oven. you follow him as he places it on top of the wooden table mat on the table, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to gain his attention.
“what happened?” you interrogate him worriedly as he pulls off the oven mitts from his hands.
“huh?” you’re coaxed to move closer when he caresses your nape, sliding down to the smooth expanse of your back. “my mom will call you soon.”
“what? why?!”
“she wants to cook for you. to apologize for what her son and her sister did.” he scrunches his nose with a guilty chuckle, scratching his head. “let’s go home for dinner one of these days, okay? we’ll cook your favorites.”
“but i thought…” you chew on your bottom lip, hand balling in a fist and crumpling the fabric of your boyfriend’s t-shirt. “did you call your mom too? i don’t want to cause trouble.”
“what do you mean? you’re doing nothing of the sort.” he gives you a disapproving look, gently squeezing your tense hand to quell your worries. “and it just turns out she was listening the whole time i was talking. they’re hanging out together. uh, besides, she would’ve found out one way or the other.”
“but they can’t be fighting, right?”
“aigoo, don’t worry about it anymore. stop hurting your brain. it’s mean.” he strokes your head lovingly with a small smile that suggests an answer to your question. “your mother-in-law loves you. everything’s okay. it’s cold so let’s just eat our dinner then cuddle in bed, hm, baby?”
oh. your mother-in-law?
“you’re so annoying.” you mutter half-heartedly, burying your face in your hands as the tears surge in once more.
god, you feel so relieved.
you crash against jungkook’s body when he tugs you closer to envelope you in his arms. maybe, just maybe, if he does it long enough, you will be pieced back together. even though he, himself, breaks when you weakly pound at his chest with clenched fists.
“i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.” you chant like a broken record in between sobs, glitching in cracks and pauses and stutters. the more you say the same three words, the more they lose their meaning.
he squeezes his eyes shut, enduring the heart-splitting pain and embracing you tighter. “i know- i know.” he repeats your words from earlier.
he hates himself, too. he needs to get his shit together. he understands — he has to grow up if he wants to keep you.
“but i love you, and i’m scared you’ll leave again and i won’t beg you anymore.” you ramble without thinking, brain on auto-pilot mode. “i’m not that kind of person, jungkook. that’s not me. i don’t have to prove it, do i?”
you feel so utterly exposed, disgustingly vulnerable. nevertheless, before jungkook is anything else, he is your best friend.
“t-they think i’m using you.” you hiccup, forearm covering your stinging eyes. you taste the salt in your own tears as you speak. “but that’s unfair, so unfair. i only accept what i’m given. i barely ask you for anything. it was only one time, o-only one time. i asked you to come back, because i missed you. i want to be with you because you make me happy.”
jungkook’s jaw clenches in anger, no longer able to withhold his tears. he sniffles, wiping his wet cheek on his shoulder. you’ve suffered more than enough because of him. if anything, he should be the one getting the lashings from his side and yours. this is wrong. this is all wrong.
“shh- shhh. breathe, baby.” he coos as he pushes down your arm, brushing away the tears on your face. “come here.”
you whimper when he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the living room. he sits on the sofa, and he sits you on his lap. you slide off him, just a tiny bit for your back to reach the armrest, pulling him along with you.
“hug me,” you demand quietly.
he fails to defy the urge to smile, abruptly pulling you in for a passionate kiss that steals the air from your lungs. your eyelids flutter shut, tense body relaxing into him as your lips follow his lead in this delicate dance of enigmatic intimacy. your fingers graze his jaw shakily, afraid it might cut you and you’ll be awoken from this enduring dream. they desperately tangle themselves with his hair, digging to keep him glued onto you.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
he makes a whispered promise carved into the walls of your apartment, sealed by his lips pressing to your knuckles, and you’re left to wonder forever if he kissed your left ring finger on purpose.
jungkook is soft-spoken, slow and careful with his words that could make or break you.
“i’m so sorry that i hurt you. and i’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me. i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry. but…” he inhales, and exhales, licking his lips. “the noise might never stop. i know it’s not as easy to say, but i hope we don’t let them get into our heads. just because we can hear them, doesn’t mean we have to listen, you know?”
and as much as it kills him to admit-
“we’re fragile right now, so i want to protect what we have.”
you profusely nod your head, and his thumbs sweep over your cheeks to catch your teardrops.
“let’s be happy, and love each other for a very long time, hm…? i know you’re not that kind of person, so you can ask me for anything. or you can even take them without asking me. i don’t care. what about it?” he says with passion and conviction, galaxy-filled eyes expanding as he shakes his head. “but never me, or my love. you shouldn’t feel like you have to ask for it. do you know why?”
you arch an eyebrow at him, still switching between fiddling with his long and slender fingers and tracing the veins running along his arms. “why?”
“because i’m yours. every single second of everyday. i love you. you deserve all the love i can give. that’s my number one responsibility as your boyfriend… but i failed you. i know you forgive me but… but i-i want to love you better. i won’t get tired of fighting for us, and showing you that i mean everything i say.”
“don’t say things like that.” at last, you crack a genuine smile, giggling as you lightly hit his chest. “i’ll become greedy.”
“good. that’s what i want.” he retorts with a chuckle, but he means it wholeheartedly.
he wants to be inconvenienced by you. he wants to make impulsively confrontational phone calls he will overthink before bed. he wants you to wake him up in the middle of the night clawing for snuggles. he wants you to jump on his back when you’re exhausted of walking. he wants to charm the owner of your favorite restaurant into cooking one more meal before closing because you always ask him to make a quick stop when he visits you. he wants his life to be influenced by yours in every possible way, two different colors mixed in a palette to create a new one that matches the sky.
“thank you.” you smile sheepishly. “and i’m sorry too, for everything. i don’t handle these things well… i’m still learning.”
“mhmm-hmm.” he shakes his head in disagreement, before leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. “i love you.” he smells like romance and comfort, sugar and cocoa from the brownies — the cure to your nausea. you still taste a hint of the sweet flavor when your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips, traces from your taste test and his.
“babe?” you whisper after minutes that felt like hours, drowsy and cozy cuddled up with your boyfriend in the corner of your sofa.
he hums in question, sleepily nuzzling his face on your neck.
“i’m so hungry. i think i’m going to die.”
“ah, yes. i can hear that.”
“should i slice the onions next?” you question in a sing-song voice as you enter the kitchen, immediately regaining possession of knife.
“stay away from them. i don’t want you to cry again.”
you pout, clicking your tongue. “you’re right. then what else can i do…? why do you look scared?”
you study jungkook’s wary stance in amusement, taking a glance at your hand where his shaking pupils are trained.
he playfully puts up his arms in surrender, laughter laced with nervousness. “baby, stop waving the knife around.”
“i’m not!”
“yes, you are! just put it down. i’ll do everything, okay?”
you place it back on the table with a scoff, slumping on the chair and crossing your arms. “and then what?”
“then have the brownies for appetizer.” with a self-satisfied grin, he cuts out a slice of brownie that has cooled down during the time it was left unattended.
“i don’t think this is how it works.”
“shhh, baby.“ he menacingly hushes you with his pointer finger over his lips. “don’t say anything. just taste it first. ahhh-“
you take a small bite from the piece that he’s holding out for you, and then another after deeming it too small.
“how is it?” he gulps as he anticipates your reply.
“yummy!”
“really?” he giggles when you chomp on the remaining dessert and accidentally bite his poor fingers.
“don’t know what makes a good brownie exactly, but it’s perfect to me.” you nod your head enthusiastically, somewhat feeling better with the prospect of having your stomach filled with more of your boyfriend’s cooking.
your jaw slacks open in offense when he slaps your hand in the middle of your attempt to pick up the knife, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he threateningly looks at you.
“what was that for? i just want more brownies!” you cry out, lightly kicking his shin from under the table.
“oh- ow!” he cracks up in hearty laughter, corners of his eyes crinkling as he rubs the affected area. “sorry, i’m sorry for my fault! they’re all yours! please forgive me! i’m sorry!”
you send him a scowl before pouring all your focus into slicing the rest of the dessert into bite-sized squares.
he bends down to your eye-level, cutely tilting his head to the side as he speaks lowly. “i’ll cook dinner now. just wait a little more… maybe two hours?”
“please tell me you’re joking.”
not long after, you hop on the vacant counter space with the brownies for a better view of the kitchen scene. you leisurely swing your legs as you watch jungkook freely move around your kitchen, occasionally getting lost as he converses with himself. if your calculations are correct, he has asked himself the questions “oing? what was i supposed to do again? what did i come here for?” twice so far. it’s a good thing he talks to himself out loud so you can remember things for him.
he stirs the pot of stew, leaves to gather more ingredients, then comes back to dump them in. the cycle ends with nods of satisfaction, before he waddles over to your spot for a snack break. straight away, you greet his parted lips with the chocolate-y goodness that was reaped from his sweat and tears.
as he chews on the brownie, he turns his face to the other direction and pokes his cheek for another request. with your thighs caging his hips and your hands grasping his collar, you tug him closer to your body. your plushy lips plant gentle but full kisses on his cheek, trailing down to his defined jaw and neck when you run out of space. the tingling sensation shooting up his spine prompts his fingers to dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, breathing gradually getting heavier with your every electrifying touch. the final kiss is granted to his adam’s apple, more prominent as he swallows.
you straighten back up while fixing your hair, and jungkook’s starry eyes follow your red lips in a hypnotized daze. there’s no one else who can make his heart flutter quite like you do. your breathy giggles are music to his ears as you take in the sight of both his cheeks adorned with scattered lipstick marks, appearing like watercolor on paper.
“what’s that for?” he eyed you suspiciously while you were painting your lips, but it’s him who kept coming back to you for more although you were already happy with one.
“you look so funny.”
but if this arrangement goes: he can make you laugh by granting you the permission to leave marks where your lips have been, he will happily live with that.
“can i take a picture?”
but you don’t even have to ask. your phone is still charging in the bedroom, so he proposes his for your convenience.
“here. just airdrop them to yourself.” he hands it to you with a cool shrug, nonchalant on the surface but giddy inside.
taglist in the reblogs! send a message/ask if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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maroonsoul · 4 months
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YIPPIE. Ok first idea as 🗣anon
Stoic Business men. (I imagine Nanami, Shiu and perhaps even Kusakabe…smth about him gives off that vibe..probably the way he dresses) those fine tall beefy men that probably tower everyone around them (Nanami is 6’5, i cant find Kusakabe height but if I had to guess probably around nanamis height) stressed out men who once he gets home is immediately on the bed begging to be fucked till he cant think and is just babbling about every nasty thought in their empty heads that they normally would never say…
Also Kusakabe Eats lollipops because he’s trying to find alternatives then smoking and in almost every scene he’s in he has a lolipop so…..do u get it…
rubs hands together like a fly, we’re gonna get along you and me
cw : sub!nanami, dom!male!reader, anal play, dirty talking, a bit of cock stepping.
the working life was hard, tiring even. and kento often wondered how much more he could last living that way, if it wasn’t for you. you who weren’t even his proper lover, his official boyfriend. you who were more of his guilty pleasure. his little treat from a long week of torture. usually he came over to you on Fridays, to get the stress fucked out of him. but today must’ve been an exception.
it was only Tuesday and there he was, at your front door waiting for you to open. he didn’t even know if you were home or not but he had to try. you opened the door with nothing but a simple t-shirt and shorts, hair all messy and a tired look on your face. you raised an eyebrow at the sight of him ; he looked rough, as if someone completely drained the life out of him. some strands of hair covered his forehead in contrast to his usual slicked hairstyle, his tie was loose and his jacket not even properly worn.
“are you okay Kento ?” you asked, not letting him come in yet. he sighed and kept his eyes on the ground.
“do I look okay to you ?” he took a step closer, his breathing pattern slowly increasing. “can you let me come in ? please..?” his tone was softer than ever, almost like a whisper and you’d be a fool not to comply to his words. he looked up and down at your figure, if he had no manners he would be ripping your clothes and get fucked raw in the corridor.
however, Kento slowly walks inside your apartment that he knows so well, and stands completely still in front of you, probably too embarrassed to talk. you sit down on the couch, a flopping sound echoing in the room as you observe him from there. he continues to stare, bulge visible in his pants as he tried not to act like a complete slut. “why are you here Kento ? missed me ?” you say calmly.
he stays quiet for a moment before finally taking a few steps toward the couch. “I needed you.” he says softly. you furrow your eyebrows and try to hide your smile. it was unlike him to express his wants that clearly. “so badly.” he continues.
at your surprise, he kneeled down in the space between your legs, and looked up at you. you could almost see a frown on his face, his cheeks visibly heating up from the situation. you tried your hardest to stay composed, this huge mass of a man was completely offering himself to you, at your mercy and command. “can you help me ?” Kento whispered.
you passed a hand through his hair then went down to rub his cheek, he leaned into the touch and breathed softly. “tell me what you want me to do.” you say calmly, your heel massaging his hard crotch.
“I need you to fuck me, y/n.” he whispers, closing his eyes from the soft caress of your hand. kento instinctively parted his lips and you took the opportunity to slide a thumb inside his mouth. he sucked on it gently, quiet pants coming out of his throat. “fuck..” he swore under his breath as he felt the pressure from your heel on his cock. “I missed you.. s’much..”
“poor baby.” you coo. “wanna go to the bedroom ?”
obviously you ended up giving him what he wanted most without refutation and there he was ; bent over your mattress completely naked, ass bouncing at each and every thrust you gave him. your pace was fast and harsh, almost hateful but he could take it. at least he said he could.
while your cock worked inside his hole, Kento felt chattier than usual and kept on babbling praises for your efforts. “so good, so good, so good..” kept coming out like a chant. your grip on his waist was firm, giving his well built hips a few squeezes. he wasn’t even present at the moment, his mind completely blank as his primal instincts took over, arching his back more and more to feel you deeper inside him.
deeper, that’s what he kept saying over and over, drool coming out of his mouth and spilling all over on your pillow. he came multiple times already but it wasn’t enough, he needed more. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..” he whispered. you pulled out of his hole and took a second to breathe. he protested, his ass now feeling emptier than ever, until you flipped him over on his back and what a sight it was.
Kento looked completely stupid, red flush spread all over his face and dried tears sitting on the corner of his eyes. he looked up at you, hot hands resting on the side of your waist, and showed a faint smile. you leaned down and kissed him, something you usually never did on your usual Fridays sex sessions. “Kento.. my sweet baby.” you laughed.
he turned his face to the side until you grabbed his chin to make him face you. “don’t look away from me.” you cooed while bending his legs on his chest. your mouth automatically glueing itself to his, he panted and moaned loudly as you went back inside and for him, it felt even deeper and better. he sunk his nails on your back, making you hiss at the pain, and you responded by only fucking him faster. your face found it’s place in the crook of his neck, and you whispered close to his ear. “you’re perfect baby.”
and at that, Kento could only respond with a whimper, “I should visit more often.” he thought.
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ineffable-suffering · 6 months
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INEFFABLE META MASTERPOST
Because I'm slowly losing count and need to organize. So, here's all my self-written metas or ones that I reblogged with my own added theories and commentary! In rainbow colours, naturally.
1 – Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why. My most lengthy and proudest meta about the Final Fifteen and why I think Aziraphale lied on purpose. (Also: The absolute darling @esthermitchell-author bravely fought their way through it and wrote up some more interesting points and different takes on what I came up with. If you want to go down a S2 rabbit hole with us, go read it here.)
2 – Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator (links below) A three-part meta in which I try to analyse and explain that all of the minisodes in Season 2 are not objective narrations but actually Aziraphale's memories.
Part 1: The Story of Job
Part 2: The Story of wee Morag
Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941
3 – The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie A meta in which I go into unnecessarily great detail about how the Whickber Street Meeting Cotillion Ball was meant to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley.
4 – Crowley & Aziraphale were never free (reblog) A reblog of @baggvinshield's post in which I explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.
5 – In Defense of Aziraphale (double reblog) A double try at explaining why I think Aziraphale's POV in the Final Fifteen is just as horrible as Crowley's and why I don't think him "choosing" to go back to Heaven was the only point of his character journey.
6 – The Art of Miscommunication: Ineffable Edition A meta in which i once again explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.
7– Season 2 Bookshop Shot Meta A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a single bookshop frame in Season 2.
8 – What if it wasn't Aziraphale and Crowley who performed the 25 Lazarii miracle? A mini-meta in which I propose the theory that Jimbriel helped with the miracle to hide himself away from Heaven & Hell.
9 – Things in Good Omens Season 2 I still find weird (reblog) A reblog of @ok-sims and many other great OPs' thoughts on the weird loose strings in Season 2 and what unanswered questions I still have myself.
10 – The Deleted Bookshop Scene (reblog) A reblog of @skirtdyke's video and @i-only-ever-asked-questions' smart thoughts on it, with my own overly-excited 'what that could have meant for the "It's too late" line'-theroy.
11 – The Bentley Handle Easter Egg A meta I can proudly say has been liked by none other than Mr. Neil Gaiman himself about Crowley's Bentley handle that might have existed before the Bentley ever did.
12 – The F*cking Eccles Cakes A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a pastry. (Addendum: People said very smart things in the comments of the post!)
14 – Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley" A meta in which I make myself sad by connecting that infamous line to Aziraphale assuming Crowley wanted the Holy Water as a suicide pill.
13 – Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles A meta on why Crowley treats his plants the way that he does.
14 – Demonic Mental Health Awareness Post In which I talk about why I want to get Crowley a therapy voucher.
15 – The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens A meta on why the Flaming Sword has no deeper meaning. Or does it? (Updated: here's a reblog from @queerfables who did a wonderfully exellent job at calmly explaining all the swordy questions I was yelling about! Consider this meta solved.)
16 – Ceci n'est pas une plume A meta in which I'm a bit of a nerd for language and also explain why learning French and magic the human way says so much about Aziraphale as a character.
17 – The meaning of "I forgive you" A meta in which I explain what both "I forgive you"s mean and why Aziraphale will always fight for what is right until he wins. Also, the lovely @sharksbeerr translated it to Chinese on Weibo!
18 – Memory, or the lack thereof, in Season 2 A little reblog on how memory is a big and unresolved, leaky-bucket theme in Season 2.
Addendum:
The one non-spoiler-y ask I could come up with about S2 that was actually answered by Neil, yay!
Also, this wholesome little post I added to that Mr. Gaiman also reblogged. :‘)
*** This is a work in progress and will get updated every time I post a new meta! ***
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