#I had this plan for continuing Spellbound
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keferon · 24 days ago
Note
step one: read spellbound au
step two: try not to cry
step three: cry allot
Ah dammit I still have my drafts for more stories in this universe. I need to get back to it after I'm done with Mecha. There's so much more crying potential you have no idea
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rubyuji · 15 days ago
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She got the Ruby ๋࣭ ⭑🎸⊹ ࣪ ˖
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“No way. I never knew how much I needed this kind of chaos until you showed up.” ᝰ.ᐟ
Genre: Slowburn, Fluff
AU: University AU
Pairing: Music Major!Woozi x Afab!Reader
Warnings: None
Synopsis: Jihoon had never been one for romance or dating—no one had ever truly caught his eye. But everything changed when he saw you bathed in the glow of red light at Soonyoung’s party, your ruby lips captivating him and making his heart race like never before. Why could you, a stranger, leave him so utterly spellbound?
Note: User rubyuji finally publishing a fic about her bias?! LMAO to be completely honest, this fic had been in my google docs for so long that I'm surprised it made it out despite the writer's block. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Don't forget to like + reblog as form of support!
W.C: 8.3k
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Dating was never an option for someone in Jihoon’s league. His packed schedule aside, he barely left the house most of the time. Whenever his friends—emphasis on tried—attempted to introduce him to someone, the feedback was always the same: he was either too busy or seemed completely uninterested. 
It wasn’t entirely his fault, though. Jihoon had never quite found his footing in the dating world. Either the idea simply hadn’t appealed to him, or the person his friends introduced was too different for him to find common ground.
“Oh, come on! We’ve introduced you to, like, six people already, and you didn’t like any of them! You’re hopeless, Jihoon,” Soonyoung whined, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside his friend.
Jihoon barely spared him a glance, rolling his eyes as his fingers continued to move across the keyboard.
Soonyoung was a great friend—Jihoon couldn’t deny that. Even if he didn’t always show it, he cared about the guy a lot. But sometimes, Soonyoung could be a handful. His intentions were always good, sure, but Jihoon wasn’t ready to dive into the complicated world of relationships or love. Not now, not when all he could focus on was graduating, as if his entire life depended on it.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but being in a relationship is the least of my worries right now,” Jihoon sighed, closing his laptop with a faint click.
As if on cue, his other friend, Wonwoo, emerged from Jihoon’s room, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed after a long nap.
“You barely leave the house and hole up here like a damn hermit. You should take some time to relax once in a while, you know?” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe.
Jihoon rubbed his temples, his brows knitting together in mild frustration. He knew his friends meant well, but their constant prodding was starting to feel like a broken record.
Soonyoung suddenly gasped, drawing curious looks from the other two men. “How about this? We’re heading to my frat tonight—I’ve got a party planned. Maybe Jihoon could find someone to mingle with. It wouldn’t hurt, right? And if you end up hating it or don’t meet anyone, you can leave. No pressure.”
Jihoon’s mouth fell open like a fish out of water at Soonyoung’s suggestion.
He didn’t mind parties per se, but Soonyoung’s events were... something else. Case in point: Soonyoung had once woken up on the frat’s lawn after one of his infamous ragers and called Jihoon to help clean up the trashed house. But that was a story for another day.
Still, Jihoon found himself considering the idea. He hadn’t left his apartment in nearly a week, and after working nonstop, a change of scenery might not be the worst thing in the world.
Jihoon wasn’t a prude—far from it. He simply preferred to conserve his energy and steer clear of activities that drained him too much.
It was just part of his nature, and honestly, one of the reasons he couldn’t see himself dating someone too outgoing or high-energy. Still, this party might be an opportunity to step outside his usual bubble and meet someone new—someone who wasn’t just a direct connection to his friends.
“I’ll go this once, I guess. But if it’s a bust, I’m leaving immediately, like we agreed,” Jihoon sighed, his tone resigned.
From the kitchen, he heard the unmistakable sound of Wonwoo spitting out his water in shock, while Soonyoung erupted into cheers, dancing around the room like he’d just won the lottery.
Jihoon rolled his eyes but knew he couldn’t show up looking like a mess. If he was going to meet someone, he might as well make himself look presentable.
On the other hand, you weren’t exactly a fan of the party scene either. So why were you at Junhui’s frat, holding a red Solo cup, half-listening to Mingyu and Seokmin discuss some new workout Mingyu had discovered?
“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Mingyu huffed, snapping you out of your daze with an exasperated look.
You smirked, taking a sip from your cup. “Mingyu, you’re the biggest gym rat I know—besides Chan and Seungcheol. And Seok, don’t think you’re safe either. I’m not even surprised you found another workout to torture us with next week at the gym.”
Mingyu groaned dramatically while Seokmin burst out laughing at your comment. Shaking your head, you got up from your spot on the couch.
“Alright, I’m gonna go look for Saerom,” you announced, giving them a playful wave before weaving through the party crowd.
“If you see Minghao, let him know I’m looking for him,” Mingyu called after you. You gave a casual two-finger salute in response before heading to the kitchen, relishing the sudden drop in noise and the smaller crowd.
Saerom was leaning against the counter, deep in conversation with Jihyo. When they spotted you, both waved you over.
“Hey, have you guys seen Minghao anywhere?” you asked as you joined them.
Jihyo shrugged, and Saerom shook her head. “Mingyu’s looking for him, right? Well, no sign of him yet,” Saerom replied.
“Figures,” you chuckled. “Also, can you believe the party’s host is MIA? Imagine Soonyoung being late to one of his own ragers for once. That’s wild.”
Saerom laughed as she refilled your cup, the three of you slipping easily back into lighthearted conversation.
Before your friends can give out another remark, you guys hear Soonyoung’s boisterous laughter coming from the living room. “Looks like I spoke too soon?” You pout in faux disappointment. 
“Hey, isn’t that Lee Jihoon? Isn’t he in your class, Rom?” Jihyo pointed out, her finger directed toward the familiar face standing beside Seungcheol. Your brows raised in surprise.
As far as you know, Jihoon, along with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Mingyu, lived off-campus. So seeing him here was unusual—he was practically an anomaly in these parties, appearing only on rare occasions.
“That’s crazy, he’s actually at a party right now,” Saerom giggled. “We should go over to Soonyoung and see what’s up.”
You found yourself following your friends without much thought, a sudden interest in Jihoon sparking inside you.
He looks insanely good in that black button-up, and those forearms— The thought immediately made you snap back to reality, shaking your head slightly as you tried to regain focus.
“Y/N! Saerom, Jihyo! Looks like you made it too,” Soonyoung laughed, his voice bright as he spotted the three of you. Your friends rolled their eyes playfully, clearly used to Soonyoung’s usual antics.
“Yeah, we know she’s your favorite,” Jihyo teased, raising an eyebrow. “But seriously, how did you manage to convince THE Lee Jihoon to come to one of your wild frat parties?”
Soonyoung shrugged casually, glancing over at Jihoon, who was deep in conversation with Wonwoo and Junhui across the room.
“I don’t know. We talked about the party a while ago when we were at his place. I mentioned it, and he’s been holed up in his apartment all week, so I thought maybe he could use a break,” Soonyoung explained, reaching for a random Solo cup Jeonghan handed him, the latter seamlessly inserting himself into the conversation. 
“We also kinda wanted him to meet someone, but... that’s out of the question for now.” Soonyoung almost sighed as he said this, clearly not expecting much.
Your friends laughed at his comment, their attention drifting back to the conversation, leaving you free to let your gaze wander. It landed on Jihoon, just as it had moments ago.
You couldn’t deny it—Jihoon was undeniably attractive, and he was definitely your type. But you had no idea how to approach him, especially since you’d barely exchanged a word with the guy.
“Interested in Jihoon, huh? Can’t blame you. Soonyoung, Cheol, and practically everyone else has been on his case about getting a girlfriend—or at least starting to date someone,” Chan suddenly appeared beside you, causing you to jump in surprise. You hit his shoulder playfully, and he chuckled.
“I’ve barely spoken to him,” you sighed dramatically. “The only other time I’ve seen him was at Mingyu’s birthday, and the most we exchanged was him passing me a plate and me saying ‘thank you.’ I highly doubt he remembers that, considering he barely even looked at me.”
Chan laughed again, but this time he grabbed your arm and started pulling you toward the dance floor as the music grew louder and the crowd tipsier.
“Fine, take a moment to think about it. But for now, let’s dance! Give it your all—you didn’t take all of Soonyoung’s and my classes for nothing, right?” Chan yelled over the music, his grin wide.
You couldn’t help but laugh as Chan spun you into a playful dance battle, challenging you to keep up. Just then, the lights suddenly flickered off, and Junhui’s makeshift spotlights sprang to life, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors.
While you and Chan lost yourselves to the beat, Jihoon made his way over to where Jeonghan, Wonwoo, and Minghao were lounging, the latter two likely too lazy to join the chaos on the dance floor. He plopped down onto the beanbag next to Jeonghan, who glanced at him with mild curiosity.
“I didn’t expect to see you here. What made you change your mind?” Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jihoon shrugged casually, taking a sip from his Solo cup filled with Coke Zero. He wasn’t much of a drinker, so he had opted out of anything stronger.
“Soonyoung and Seungcheol insisted I needed to get out of the apartment and let loose a bit. I’d been holed up there all week, just going back and forth between home, university, and the gym, so I figured I’d give it a shot,” Jihoon explained, his gaze drifting to the dance floor.
His eyes found Mingyu in the middle of the dance circle before flitting over to you.
As you danced alongside Chan, Jihoon’s eyes lingered on you, captivated by your movements. Seokmin and Seungkwan were in the middle of their own dance battle nearby, but Jihoon couldn’t tear his focus away from you.
You looked... familiar. He was sure you had been at Mingyu’s birthday party, and he had seen you with Soonyoung around campus, but he never really paid much attention until now.
It was almost as if everything slowed down for Jihoon at that moment. He took in every detail—how you looked so effortlessly good while dancing, how the red light seemed to make you glow. Red was his favorite color, and seeing the hue reflected in the lipstick on your lips only made things worse as he tried to hide how drawn to you he felt.
“Dude, why are you so thirsty?” Soonyoung’s voice snapped Jihoon out of his daze, and he immediately felt heat rush to his face. Wonwoo laughed, clearly noticing Jihoon’s flushed ears, while Minghao tried to suppress a smile.
Jihoon was finally making progress in his love life, and his friends couldn’t be more proud of him for stepping out of his shell.
“Finally, someone’s caught your attention,” Soonyoung teased, his grin widening. “Do you want me to bring Y/N over?”
Soonyoung’s plan was falling into place perfectly. The fact that Jihoon was showing interest in you—of all people—was just ideal.
You were everything Jihoon needed. Well, almost. You weren’t big on the party scene and preferred staying in, though you did go out more often than him if invited by the right people (the ‘right people’ being Mingyu).
You had a personality that could easily draw people in, and on top of that, you were the full package: pretty, smart, and kind. But being as perfect as you were also meant that you had no shortage of admirers.
“You know, Y/N’s great. She’s practically Seungcheol’s other half,” Jeonghan said, clapping his hands enthusiastically.
Everyone around them was practically buzzing with excitement, seeing Jihoon finally step out of his comfort zone. Honestly, Jihoon felt a strange surge of courage; for once, he was ready to take a risk.
“I mean, if she’s that amazing, why not? But how do I even approach her?” Jihoon asked, glancing over again. This time, he saw you dancing with Mingyu, your smile outshining every light in the room.
“Y/N’s laid-back. She can talk to anyone if you just let her be herself,” Wonwoo chimed in. “She’s a bit of a yapper, but in the best way possible—everyone feels comfortable around her.”
Jihoon didn’t get a chance to respond because, just then, you and Mingyu started making your way toward their group, which set off an eruption of teasing from all sides.
You waved at the guys before gently ushering Mingyu off to have fun with the others, then settled on the couch beside Wonwoo. It just so happened to be the seat directly across from Jihoon.
“Y/N! You’re not really into the party scene. What made you come?” Soonyoung called out loudly. You shot him a questioning glance and laughed.
He knew you enjoyed a party every now and then, but then your eyes caught sight of Jihoon sitting next to him, and suddenly, you understood.
“You know I enjoy the occasional party, Soonyoung. Today’s no different—I just wanted to let loose a bit,” you replied, leaning forward on the couch to grab an empty red cup from the table. You filled it with whatever concoction was in the bowl nearby.
“Is this spiked, by the way? Don’t wanna end up drugged or anything,” you joked, raising an eyebrow. Wonwoo shook his head to signal that it was safe and that you trusted his judgment.
“Oh, and Y/N,” Jeonghan chimed in, “Jihoon here actually wanted to talk to you. Why don’t you two take a moment?”
A smile tugged at your lips as you realized this was your chance. Chan’s words echoed in your mind—a lot of people sought after you, but no one had ever really stood out—until now.
Jihoon caught your attention in a way that felt different, and with a little liquid courage in your system, you felt ready to take that first step. You were grateful for the alcohol, knowing that without it, you might’ve been a complete mess by now.
“Well, we’ll leave you two alone then,” Jeonghan smirked, causing you to flush. You noticed Jihoon looked just as flustered as your friends began to leave the room one by one.
An awkward silence settled between you, and you decided to make the first move, choosing to go with the flow.
After all, what did you have to lose—other than your dignity if Jihoon didn’t respond?
“I take it you’re not the most sociable type? Or a huge partygoer?” you chuckled awkwardly.
Jihoon chuckled too, nodding as he noticed your flustered demeanor. Just moments ago, you had seemed so confident, but now seeing you shy around him gave him a strange sense of comfort.
He wasn’t used to many women approaching him, especially since he had no experience in the dating scene. Soonyoung and Seungcheol had quite literally thrown him into the deep end.
Jihoon scratched the back of his neck nervously, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since the awkward silence.
"I guess you could say that," he said, his voice soft but a bit unsure.
"I’m more of a quiet type, not really into the whole party scene. But Soonyoung and Seungcheol… they’ve been pushing me to get out more. I’m not used to this kind of thing."
He gave you a small, sheepish smile, as if trying to lighten the moment. There was a warmth in his expression, a vulnerability that surprised you. It made you feel like you weren’t the only one navigating uncharted waters.
You couldn’t help but smile back, your own nervousness easing a little. "I get it. I’m not really a party person either," you replied with a chuckle.
"I like the idea of letting loose, but it always seems a bit overwhelming. I’m more of the 'quiet drink in the corner' type myself."
Jihoon laughed softly at that, the tension between you both melting away just a little bit more. It was strange, but in that moment, you both seemed to find common ground in your shared discomfort.
There was something about the way Jihoon looked at you now, something less guarded, as if he was starting to feel more comfortable.
"Yeah, I get what you mean," he said, his tone a little more relaxed.
"I’d rather be at home, with my laptop and music. At least there, I don’t have to deal with—" He paused for a moment, glancing around the chaotic party. "All this."
You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. There’s something peaceful about just being at home, away from all the noise. But hey, at least we’re both getting out, right?"
"True," Jihoon said with a smile that made your heart flutter. "I guess we’re both stepping out of our comfort zones."
You looked around for a moment, the buzz of the party now seeming a little more tolerable. "I wouldn’t say I’m exactly ‘stepping out’—more like ‘dragged out’," you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Jihoon chuckled at that, and you noticed how his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than usual.
The playful banter seemed to ease the nerves you were both feeling. It was refreshing to talk to someone who understood that sometimes, a quiet escape was more appealing than all the loud distractions in the world.
As if to prove his point, Jihoon glanced toward the dance floor, where his friends were causing even more chaos, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh.
"I swear, they get louder every time. I feel like I might go deaf just by being around them."
You laughed at that, and before you knew it, you were both talking more comfortably, sharing little details about yourselves. You were beginning to realize that maybe, just maybe, this night wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought.
"By the way," Jihoon said after a beat, suddenly looking a little hesitant again.
"I hope I’m not being too forward, but… if you’re not busy later, maybe we could grab a drink or something? I mean, I know this place is kind of… well, loud, but it could be nice to talk more, you know?"
Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and you tried to hide your surprise with a smile. "Yeah," you replied, a little more confidently than you felt. "I’d like that."
The moment hung between you two, and for the first time that night, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of quiet connection.
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The next day, you found yourself sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan at a quiet café, the bright morning sun filtering through the windows.
You had been eager to tell Mingyu about your interaction with Jihoon the night before, especially after how much your friends had teased you about it.
Seungkwan, ever the curious one, was also there, sipping his coffee with a raised eyebrow, clearly interested in hearing what had happened.
"So," Mingyu started, leaning forward with a grin.
"How was last night? Did you end up talking to Jihoon like you said you would?" He shot you a knowing look, clearly trying not to make it too obvious that he was playing matchmaker in his own way.
You chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish at the memory.
"Yeah, we actually did talk. I mean, it wasn’t anything super exciting or dramatic, but we had a decent conversation. He's... surprisingly easy to talk to, you know?"
Seungkwan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I thought Jihoon was like the silent, brooding type. What did you guys even talk about?"
You shrugged, a smile playing at your lips as you recalled the night.
"We mostly talked about how neither of us are really into the party scene. We ended up bonding over how much we’d rather stay home than deal with all the noise. It was actually kind of nice, just... quiet, you know?" You caught Mingyu’s knowing smirk and rolled your eyes.
"Stop it. I’m just saying we connected a little more than I expected."
Mingyu and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, and Seungkwan raised his cup in a mock toast. "Well, looks like you’re in the clear then. It’s not every day someone gets Jihoon out of his shell."
"Right?" You laughed, trying not to let your excitement show too much. "I didn’t expect it either. But I guess he’s not as intimidating as I thought."
Just as Seungkwan was about to say something else, your phone buzzed on the table. You grabbed it, expecting a random message, but when you saw the name on the screen, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Jihoon.
Hey, it’s Jihoon. I got your number from Cheol. Would you be free to hang out after your classes are done today?
You couldn’t help but smile as you read the message. Your friends were watching you closely, no doubt noticing the shift in your demeanor.
"You okay there, Y/n?" Mingyu asked, a teasing grin on his face. "Something got you smiling like that?"
You bit your lip, quickly typing out a reply, trying not to let your excitement show too much. Sure, I’d like that. I finish class around 4. How about then?
As you hit send, you glanced up at your friends. Seungkwan was grinning widely, clearly having caught onto what was happening. "Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with mischief. "Looks like someone’s got a date on their hands."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.
"We’re just hanging out," you said, trying to play it cool. "But yeah, I guess we’ll see how it goes."
Mingyu raised his cup again, his grin widening. "You know, I always knew Jihoon had it in him. I’m just glad someone finally got him to make a move. Let’s see where this goes."
You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought. Jihoon had actually asked you to hang out. After everything that had happened last night, this felt like the beginning of something new—and you were more than curious to see where it would lead.
The afternoon passed in a blur, and as soon as your last class ended, you hurriedly made your way back to your apartment to get ready for your date with Jihoon. You were a bit nervous but also excited—this was a new experience for both of you, and the idea of spending time together in a more intimate setting had you feeling hopeful.
As you walked into your apartment, you were greeted by the sound of music blaring from the living room. Yerin, your roommate, was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
“Whoa, slow down there!” Yerin called out with a teasing grin as she looked up from her phone. “A date tonight? Are you rushing to see him or something?” She raised an eyebrow and put down her phone, clearly enjoying the playful jab.
You froze for a second, a flush creeping up your neck. “I’m not rushing! I just... want to look good, okay?” You quickly grabbed your clothes for the evening from your closet, trying to brush off Yerin’s teasing.
Yerin sat up on the couch and leaned forward with a sly smile.
“Uh-huh, sure. You know, I was starting to wonder if Jihoon was actually real or if he was just a figment of your imagination. But now it looks like you’re actually getting ready for him.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Shut up, Yerin. I’m just trying to make sure everything goes well tonight.”
Yerin laughed, crossing her arms. “I’ll be here, waiting to hear all the details when you get back! I’m expecting the full scoop.”
You quickly finished getting ready, making sure to choose a stylish but comfortable outfit. You knew Jihoon wasn’t exactly the flashy type, so you opted for something that felt both casual and a little special.
Once you were done, you grabbed your bag and walked out of your room. As you stepped out into the living room, Yerin was still lounging on the couch, her eyes glinting with mischief.
“I’m serious, I want the full report later,” she called as you made your way to the door. “Have fun, and don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way back!”
You chuckled, throwing her a playful wave before stepping out the door.
When you arrived at the restaurant, Jihoon was already waiting for you outside. He looked a little nervous but also endearingly handsome, standing there in a smart button-up and dark jeans. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and his expression softened into a smile.
“Hey,” Jihoon greeted, stepping forward. “I hope this place is okay. I figured it might be more... private for our first time hanging out like this.”
You smiled back, feeling a surge of affection for how thoughtful he was. “It looks perfect. Very cozy, just what I needed after a long day.” You gently bumped your shoulder against his as you greeted him.
Jihoon seemed to hesitate for a moment, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small bouquet of red roses. Your heart skipped a beat as he offered them to you, his cheeks turning slightly pink.
“I... I thought these might brighten your day.”
You were momentarily taken aback by the gesture. Jihoon wasn’t the most outwardly romantic person, but the red roses made it clear how much he was putting himself into this. “Jihoon, these are beautiful. Thank you,” you said, your voice softer than usual.
“Of course,” Jihoon mumbled, his ears tinged with pink. “I wanted to make tonight a little special.”
You took the flowers, your heartwarming at the gesture. "You definitely did."
Jihoon led you into the restaurant, a sleek, modern spot known for its great ambiance and exquisite food. As you stepped inside, the dim lighting, soft music, and cozy atmosphere made it feel like the perfect setting for a first date. You quickly spotted the table he had reserved, a secluded spot with a view of the rest of the restaurant.
You sat down, and for a moment, there was a brief, awkward silence.
"So," you started, trying to ease the tension, "you’ve clearly got some taste. This place is nice."
Jihoon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I actually googled a few places... and picked one that looked like it wouldn't make me look too much like a rookie. Not that I’m exactly experienced in this stuff," he admitted with a sheepish smile.
You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. "Don’t worry, Jihoon. I’m definitely not an expert either. We’re both figuring this out, right?"
Jihoon nodded, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and nervousness.
"Yeah, we’re in this together."
The waiter approached, and after a brief moment of looking over the menu, you and Jihoon placed your orders. As the waiter left, Jihoon met your gaze again, his expression softening.
"So," he said, leaning in a little, his tone quieter now, "what’s been keeping you busy lately? Besides... school, obviously."
You laughed softly, feeling more comfortable now that the initial awkwardness had passed. "Honestly? Between classes and spending time with friends, I’ve just been trying to make some time for myself. It’s been a lot of balancing everything, you know?"
Jihoon nodded, his eyes reflecting a deeper understanding.
"Yeah, I get that. I’ve been stuck in my routine lately, just going to class, the gym, and back home. It feels like the same thing every day, so I figured... maybe it was time to break out of that a little."
You smiled, a soft laugh escaping you. "Well, you definitely made the right decision tonight. It’s nice to step out of the routine every once in a while."
Jihoon smiled back, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. "Yeah. And I’m glad it’s with you."
The words hung in the air between you, but instead of making things feel heavy, they only added to the warmth between you both. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics as the evening progressed.
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As the weeks passed, Jihoon and you began to fall into a comfortable routine.
After each of your classes, you’d find yourself grabbing a quick bite to eat at the diner near campus, or sometimes just walking home together, talking about everything from random observations to deeper conversations about life.
 It had started off a bit awkward, but now, it felt effortless, like you had both found something meaningful in the mundane moments.
Jihoon was starting to appreciate the routine. It wasn’t something that had ever appealed to him before—he’d always been the kind to keep to himself, going through the motions of class, gym, and home without seeking much beyond that. But with you, he found himself looking forward to these little moments. 
He loved hearing about your day, even the small things you thought were unimportant. Your laughter became a highlight of his afternoon, and as silly as it might’ve sounded, he loved walking beside you, his hand brushing against yours as you talked.
One particular day, after a long class, Jihoon met you outside the building, your usual spot. His eyes softened when he saw you, and despite the crowds, he only had eyes for you. You were wearing a loose sweater and jeans, your hair tucked into a messy bun, looking effortlessly cute.
“Hey, ready to go?” Jihoon asked, offering you a small smile. You nodded, pulling your bag over your shoulder.
“Yeah, just finished my last lecture. Let’s get food, I’m starving.”
“Same here,” Jihoon replied, glancing down at his phone. “How about that diner? I’m craving their fries today.”
You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder as the two of you started walking. “You and your fries. But sure, that works for me.”
The walk to the diner was filled with comfortable conversation, the two of you easily slipping into familiar banter.
As you entered the diner, you found your usual booth by the window and sat down, already chatting about how your day had gone. Jihoon, for the first time in a while, felt completely at ease.
Then as you two dug into your food, Jihoon noticed something he hadn’t before—how he found himself looking forward to this part of his day.
He was actually looking forward to seeing you, to sharing these moments. And it wasn’t just about the food or the walk anymore; it was about spending time with you.
Later that week, Soonyoung, who had been hanging out with Jihoon more recently, couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in his friend’s behavior.
Jihoon, who used to brush off talks about relationships or showing any kind of emotion, had been smiling more, his mood noticeably lighter. Soonyoung wasn’t exactly one to shy away from calling things as they were, and it didn’t take long for him to notice what was happening.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Soonyoung asked one day, leaning against the doorframe of Jihoon’s room, a teasing smile on his face.
Jihoon, who had been lounging on his bed with his laptop open, looked up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You’re different,” Soonyoung said, crossing his arms. “You’re actually smiling. You’re not as... grumpy anymore. Did you get a new pet or something?”
Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no new pet. Just... you know. Life’s good.”
Soonyoung raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk forming. “Uh-huh. So, it’s ‘life’s good,’ huh? Is this about Y/n?”
Jihoon froze for a second, his eyes widening. He wasn’t exactly trying to keep things a secret, but Soonyoung was quick to catch on. “What?” Jihoon tried to brush it off, but it was no use.
“I knew it,” Soonyoung said, grinning. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”
Jihoon let out a frustrated sigh, but a soft smile tugged at his lips. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been hanging out a lot lately. I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“Oh, please,” Soonyoung laughed, throwing himself onto Jihoon’s bed.
“I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re crushing on someone. You’ve been acting differently, Jihoon. You actually care about your schedule now. You used to skip meals like it was nothing, but now I see you going to class early, and I even saw you texting Y/n before your last lecture yesterday.”
Jihoon felt his cheeks heat up. “Okay, okay, you got me. But it’s not a big deal.”
Soonyoung sat up, his grin never fading. “You’re so obvious, man. You’re just making it worse by trying to act like it’s nothing. Just admit it: you like her.”
Jihoon sighed but couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face.
“Fine, I like her. Happy now?”
Soonyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “I knew it! Jihoon’s got a crush! You two are so cute. But seriously, don’t mess it up.”
Jihoon ran a hand through his hair, the smile still on his face. “I’m trying not to. It’s just... I’ve never really done this before, you know?”
Soonyoung patted Jihoon’s back. “It’s all good. Just take it easy. You’re doing fine. Just keep being yourself.”
As the conversation ended, Jihoon found himself thinking about how much he had changed over the past few weeks.
He wasn’t just going through the motions anymore; he was actually living, enjoying these moments with you. And he couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—there was something more to explore between the two of you.
It was a Friday night, and you were at your apartment with Yerin and Jennie, sprawled across your couch with snacks, blankets, and plenty of gossip.
The three of you had been best friends for what felt like forever, and sleepovers were a tradition. You’d all gathered to catch up, share some laughs, and spill some tea—this time, about your not-so-secret crush.
Yerin was curled up with her phone, scrolling through TikTok, while Jennie, ever the gossip queen, was snuggled under a blanket beside you, eagerly waiting for you to spill the details.
“So,” Jennie said, raising an eyebrow and giving you a mischievous smile. “How’s Jihoon? Been seeing each other a lot lately?”
You paused for a moment, unsure if you were ready to admit just how much you liked him yet. But you knew your best friends well, and there was no point in holding back.
They’d seen you go through a million crushes, and they weren’t about to let you keep this one under wraps for long.
“I mean…” you began, glancing at Yerin for support, “It’s been nice, really nice. We’ve been hanging out a lot lately—like, almost every day after class.”
Jennie’s eyes immediately widened. “Wait, what? Every day? Are you telling me that you two have become, like, regulars at that diner near campus?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” you chuckled. “We get dinner there after classes, talk about anything and everything. It’s kind of become our thing.”
Yerin, who had been half-paying attention, looked up from her phone at the mention of Jihoon. “Wait a second, hold on. I thought Jihoon was this… grumpy, antisocial guy. You know, the one who never really goes out?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” you said with a small laugh. “But honestly? I think he’s just been waiting for the right person. And I guess… maybe I’m that person.”
Jennie grinned widely, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh my god, I knew it! I saw the way you two were around each other last time, and I was like, ‘Something’s going on here.’ You two just click.”
Yerin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, how does he feel about you? You’ve been spending all this time with him. Have you two… talked about anything serious yet?”
You took a deep breath, feeling the fluttering in your chest as you thought about Jihoon.
“We haven’t really defined anything yet. I think we’re both just taking things slow. But honestly, I feel like there’s a connection there, something real.”
Yerin smiled knowingly, setting her phone down. “I can tell you like him, Y/n. And I’m glad he’s making you happy. Just make sure to take it slow and enjoy the ride. You don’t have to rush into anything.”
Jennie, ever the romantic, added, “Yeah, but also, when are you two going to make it official? I’m dying to hear how this all goes down.”
You laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. “I don’t know if we’re at that point yet. We’re still just figuring things out.”
“Right, right,” Jennie teased. “But I know how you are, Y/n. You’re gonna make him fall for you, and it’s going to be cute. You two are a total power couple in the making.”
You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you appreciated their support. “I’m just trying to enjoy these moments with him right now. But… I don’t know. I think I’m starting to like him more than I expected.”
Yerin leaned back, resting her head on the pillow, clearly satisfied with the conversation.
“You’re allowed to like him, Y/n. Honestly, I think Jihoon’s a good match for you. He’s different from the guys you usually go for. He seems like he genuinely cares.”
Jennie gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m already calling dibs on being your maid of honor whenever you two get married.”
Yerin snorted, throwing a pillow at Jennie. “Are you trying to jinx it already? Slow down, lovebird.”
You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest as your best friends teased you. It felt good to talk about Jihoon, to let someone else in on what you were feeling. It was different from all the other crushes you’d had, and you knew that it was only the beginning of something special.
But for now, you were content to take it one step at a time, with your friends by your side and Jihoon slowly making his way into your heart.
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After a long and stressful week of finals, you were finally free. The relief that flooded over you was immense, and the anticipation of meeting Jihoon made it even sweeter.
You had both been texting throughout the week, but with finals consuming all of your time, you hadn't been able to meet up. Tonight, though, was different.
Jihoon had messaged you earlier, asking if you wanted to meet up once you were done with everything. You could already feel the excitement building in your chest.
As you walked out of the library, the crisp night air greeted you, and your phone buzzed in your pocket. Jihoon’s message appeared on the screen:
Jihoon: "Hey, I was thinking we could grab dinner. You deserve a break after finals. I’ll meet you at that place we like near campus, yeah?"
You smiled at the message and quickly typed back:
You: "Sounds perfect. I’ll be there in 15 minutes."
You quickly made your way to the restaurant, the weight of finals lifting off your shoulders with each step.
When you arrived, you spotted Jihoon waiting for you outside, his usual shy smile lighting up his face as soon as he saw you. He looked great, as always, but there was something about him tonight—something more confident, like he had been looking forward to this just as much as you had.
“Hey,” you greeted, your voice already filled with warmth.
“Hey, Y/n. How was the last exam?” Jihoon asked, his voice a little more relaxed than usual, but still filled with genuine interest.
“It was tough, but I’m just happy it’s over. I could finally breathe,” you said with a smile.
Jihoon chuckled softly, pushing open the door to the restaurant and letting you go in first. The place was cozy, with dim lighting and soft jazz music playing in the background.
You’d been here a few times before, and it always felt like the perfect spot to relax and enjoy good food.
“So, what’s the plan now that finals are done?” Jihoon asked as you both sat down. He’d already taken the liberty of ordering a drink for you, something you’d mentioned you liked in passing weeks ago. It was a small gesture, but one that made your heart flutter.
“Honestly, I just want to take it easy and catch up with you,” you said, your voice gentle. “I’ve missed this.”
Jihoon smiled, and you could tell he felt the same. “Same here. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
After you both ordered your meals, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It was easy with Jihoon, like you didn’t have to worry about the awkward pauses or overthinking what you said. It just felt natural.
You talked about how your finals had gone, the stress, and everything in between. Jihoon, despite his quiet nature, opened up more than usual, and you could tell the weight of the past week had lifted from his shoulders as well.
As the evening went on, Jihoon casually leaned back in his chair and seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost as if gathering his thoughts. You didn’t mind the pause, enjoying the quiet comfort of just being in each other’s company.
“I know we’ve been through a lot recently with exams and everything, but… I’ve been thinking about something,” Jihoon began, his voice soft.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”
Jihoon took a deep breath, and you could see the hint of nervousness in his expression. “I’ve really enjoyed these past few weeks with you, Y/n. More than I expected, honestly. I know we’re both busy, but I want to see you more. Not just as a friend… but as something more.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. “Jihoon…”
He smiled shyly. “I’m not good with words, but… I really like you. A lot. I want to be with you. Would you be my girlfriend?”
The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the realization hitting you hard. You had felt the same way, but hearing him say it out loud made everything feel more real.
A smile spread across your face as you reached out, taking his hand across the table. “Yes, Jihoon. I’d love to.”
The relief on his face was instant, and you could see the happiness in his eyes. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”
And in that moment, with the lights of the restaurant casting a soft glow around you, everything felt right. It was the perfect end to a stressful week—and the beginning of something even more beautiful.
After dinner, Jihoon suggested that you both head to his place. He had mentioned before that he had a small studio where he worked on his music, and tonight, it seemed like the perfect time to finally show you what he’d been working on.
“You know, I was thinking of taking you to my studio,” Jihoon said as you walked side by side toward his apartment building. “I’ve been working on something… and I think it’s time I share it with you.”
You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Something? What is it?”
Jihoon just smiled, his gaze a little more secretive. “You’ll see.”
Once you arrived at his place, Jihoon led you up to the small studio in the corner of the building. The space was cozy, but you could immediately tell it was filled with character.
There were posters of old-school musicians on the walls, a few vintage records stacked neatly in one corner, and the warm light from a desk lamp illuminated a red guitar leaning against a chair.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Jihoon said, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll just grab my guitar.”
You sat down, looking around the room, the quiet hum of anticipation settling in your chest. Jihoon moved around the room, picking up the guitar and tuning it for a moment before sitting down beside you.
His fingers brushed the strings, testing them one last time, before he looked at you, his expression soft and sincere.
“I wrote this song a while ago,” Jihoon began, his voice low, almost as if he were gathering courage. “And honestly, I didn’t know if I would ever share it with anyone. But when I started to really think about it, I realized… you’re the inspiration for it. I wanted to play it for you.”
You watched him, your heart already fluttering. “Jihoon…”
With a soft breath, he started playing, the chords flowing from the guitar as if they had been meant for this moment. The melody was gentle at first, and as he sang the lyrics, his voice blended effortlessly with the soothing tune.
It was clear that every word was carefully chosen, every note filled with emotion. And as the song progressed, you could feel the weight of his words hitting deep.
The lyrics were simple but beautiful, each line a reflection of how Jihoon saw you—his "ruby"—his muse, his heart’s desire.
As the last note faded, Jihoon set the guitar down beside him and looked at you, his eyes slightly unsure. “I… I know it’s a lot, but I wanted you to hear it. Because you’re the one who inspired it.”
You were silent for a moment, taking in everything—the song, his vulnerability, and the realization that Jihoon had really opened up to you in a way he hadn’t with anyone else. It took you a second to gather your thoughts, but when you finally spoke, your voice was soft, filled with sincerity.
“That was beautiful, Jihoon,” you whispered, your heart swelling. “I can’t believe you wrote that for me.”
Jihoon’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know how to tell you. But now, I guess there’s no hiding it anymore.”
You smiled, reaching out to touch his hand. “I’m really glad you did.”
There was a brief silence, but this time it was comfortable, filled with the weight of the connection you shared. Jihoon looked at you, his eyes full of warmth and something deeper. It was clear to you now—he had fallen for you, and he had done it in the most beautiful way possible.
After a few beats, Jihoon spoke again, his voice quiet but steady.
“You know,” he began, his tone playful but filled with sincerity, “you really have a way of turning my entire routine upside down.”
You raised an eyebrow, still feeling the warmth of the music and his words. “Oh really? What do you mean by that?”
Jihoon chuckled softly, the sound low and comfortable.
“I mean, my life was pretty predictable before you came around. Gym, classes, music, rinse and repeat. But now, it’s like—” he trailed off for a second, gathering his thoughts, “—I actually look forward to getting out of bed in the morning, you know? To seeing you.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. “Oh, so I’m just some distraction now, huh? Are you telling me I’ve become the highlight of your boring routine?”
Jihoon’s eyes softened, a smile curling at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping just a little. “If that makes me sound like I’m complaining, then yes. You’re the perfect distraction. The best one I never knew I needed.”
You let out a small laugh, not able to hide how happy that made you feel. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or worried.”
“You should definitely feel flattered,” Jihoon teased, tapping the back of his hand against your knee. “But seriously, I’m really glad you’re in my life now. It’s like... you’ve made everything a little more exciting.”
You met his gaze, the playful air between you both still hanging, but something deeper flickered in his eyes now—something genuine, something real.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not just some distraction then,” you said, shifting slightly to face him fully. “And here I thought you were going to tell me I was ruining your carefully planned life.”
Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I never knew how much I needed this kind of chaos until you showed up.”
There was a brief pause, and then Jihoon leaned in a little closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, it’s nice having someone who actually doesn’t mind the mess I call my life.”
“Well, good thing I’m here then,” you replied with a wink. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Jihoon smiled, a mix of playfulness and tenderness in his expression. “Good. Because I kind of like this version of my life now. With you in it.”
With that, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and as he did, you both shared a quiet moment, the atmosphere charged with the kind of ease that came only with truly being yourselves around each other.
The hum of his guitar, still resting by his side, seemed to match the rhythm of the moment. And as Jihoon leaned back into his seat, he added with a cheeky grin, “Also, just so you know… if you ever need a song to get stuck in your head, you’ve got the perfect one now.”
You laughed, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, I think that’s gonna be stuck in my head for a while. Especially when it’s your fault.”
Jihoon’s grin widened. “You’re welcome,” he teased.
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© rubyuji 2025’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.
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lordofdestructionm · 1 year ago
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Wick Sable
The odd duck in the guilded cage
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Despite this being a feral Mordecai and Viktor account I do occasionally like to dig into the others.
Wick is a character Lackadaisy fans love but don't talk about very much. He just the rich friendly geologist with a love of illicit beverages and a crush on Mitzi. Indeed he is all those things. But I want to dig a little into what may be hidden depth (geography joke haha)
Professional dissatisfaction
When we first meet Wick he is behind his desk looking very tired and beaten down. Forcing himself to keep working late into the night with excessive coffee. Attending to a large pile of paper work for tomorrow.
His expression shifts slightly when he sees the Lackadaisy pins fall out of the envelope and realises the letter is an invitation to him (and his fellow aristocrats) to the speakeasy.
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This hatred of paper work and the administrative side of his business is a recurring issue for Wick. Making the reason for his reliance on the capable and attentive Lacy very obvious. Exhaustian and too much alchohol are no doubt partly to blame, but it seems to be something that puts him in a very depressed state of mind.
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But when actually on the job, overseeing the hands on work of blasting a new quarry, his mood is much more positive. Indeed he has a very real and sincere love for geology and the nitty gritty work of his business. When he first went to the Lackadaisy he was spellbound by the lime caverns themselves as much by Mitzi's charm.
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Its his special interest and he will go on long unprompted monologues on the topic if given the chance. Meaning it is specifically the being trapped in his office dealing with the red tape that makes him so unhappy not the industry itself.
Its almost sad that he is the one in charge of the company rather than in a role that puts him closer to the action which seems to bring him real joy. Like someone who loves cooking being in charge of a restuarant or someone that loves drawing running an animation studio.
They love the product/industry but that doesn't mean they enjoy their specific place in it.
Unimpressed Peers
Despite Wicks enthusiasm it proves not be infectious with his fellow elite, who complain about being dragged out of town to watch something, that while very important to Wick, they clearly could not care less about (even not that quietly mocking him and his love for rocks and construction)
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When the evening doesn't go to plan due to the uninvited pig farmers Wick has an interesting exchange with Edmund Church, seemingly the most prominent of the St Louis upper crust in the group. Warning him about getting any more involved with an unsavoury crowd, especially Mitzi, outside of simply enjoying the occasional drink.
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Wick doesn't take kindly to the snarky criticism and borderline threat to his reputation and responds with a much more direct statement on his peers sour nature
Tracy has mentioned that Church has a role yet to play in the story and it seems safe to assume from this it may well involve Wick in a less than friendly way if he continues to associate with his "lessers" as Church and the others see things.
Despite needing to remain on civil terms to keep them invested in his business, Wick clearly has little love for them, a feeling that is mutual as they have little respect for him and see him as an oddball, only tolerating him because his talent in his field can help make them a tidy profit.
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But while he doesn't appreciate Church's sniping Wick IS concerned about his reputation, but not entirely for his own sake or that of his elitist associates, but for the many people who rely on him for employment, who could be hurt by extension of he gets pulled too deep into the less than repectable world of bootlegging
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Romantic life
Outside of the crush he has had on Mitzi since first meeting her at the Speakeasy, we have very little information about Wicks love life before this. Being a handsome and wealthy gentleman from a good family, you would think he would he fighting women off with a stick, maybe even be a bit of a playboy.
Instead you get the impression Wick is pretty far away from being a ladies man. Mentioning to Mitzi that he doesn't even really know how to talk to women unless its about rocks, bugs or limestone.
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He is clearly attracted to her and is tempted by her to risk his reputation and by extension his business to get closer to her, but so far his fear of the very real consequences are deterring him from taking that gamble.
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Though there is that personal aspect to it, it seems that in a more abstract sense Mitzi's appeal to Wick is not just in her beauty and seductive personality, but in the excitement and thrill of her Speakeasy and bootlegging operations.
In that sense Mitzi represents that touch of danger and excitement that during prohibition many otherwise law abiding citizens enjoyed indulging in illegal drinking establishments. Being* just* naughty enough to give them a fun thrill while being detached from the more brutal blood soaked aspects.
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Wick is a good natured person (the worst thing he has done is shoot a duck in his youth which he was forced to do) living a very "respectable" life, but that makes the superficial glamour of the world of underground drinking establishments and secret booze stashes even more appealing. Thats why despite his concerns and responsibilities he keeps going back ,not just to Mitzi, but to the Lackadaisy specifically. It has pretty geography, a pretty owner, and an open door to a more exciting avenue of life
Its for that same reason he doesn't seem to be overly uncomfortable with lovable bi disaster Zib flirting with him at the bar. He may have no intention of reciprocating, but it couldn't be a more different experience to the world he is used to
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Even if he doesn't yet want to take the full plunge it all excites him enough to keep him circling the edges.
Because despite having so much going for him there are things about his life that not only bore him but make him unhappy. Whether its piles of paperwork, dealing with much stuffier "conventional" fellow aristocrats and not wanting to be like them, or just a general lack of true passion in his life, he is clearly a man looking for something more satisfying
Whether or not he remains a "tourist" or decides to take that gamble, throw his reservations to the wind, and take a more active role in the gang, is yet to be seen...
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Assuming Rocky doesn't set fire to him first of course XD
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blackynsupremacy · 1 month ago
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TEASE ME, TEACH ME,
TOUCH ME
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pairing: cooper koch x black!fem!reader
summary: cooper has such a comfortable friendship with his roommate, but something unexpected happens between them in that comfortability.
contains: based off this request, 18+ content mdni, smut, friendly teasing, swearing, making out, intimate dancing, grinding, first time roommates/friends with benefits, groping, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, kitchen counter sex, creampie, praise, after care.
taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy
a/n: my first official cooper smut! i’m not trying to hear that shit because this is purely fiction. ya’ll know i respect cooper with everything in me and love him as he is. it’s okay to fantasize! if you got a problem, don’t read it or make the content that fits your needs regarding cooper. i’m just giving the people what they want! also, shoutout to my haitians for this beautiful music.
you and cooper’s friendship was interesting in the view of others. you both lived together in your shared apartment, but the bond between you was much stronger to say the least. you’ve known each other since high school and after graduation, you decided to move to l.a. together to pursue your respective careers. the longer you lived together, the closer you got, which felt so easy. it wasn’t a secret that you both glowed up over time and you never were afraid to compliment each other.
“damn, you look good in those jeans.” cooper had complimented you one day while leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom as you were trying on some new clothes. at first it would startle you, but with a heated face, you coolly chuckled before looking back at your friend and responding.
“take a picture it’ll last longer.” you retort.
“if i walked past an ass that looked like that—shit, i might as well.” to others this may seem as if you two talking like lovers, but this was just your daily banter. you’d dissolve into laughter and go on your merry way.
you both firmly believed that men and women can live and commune together without any sexual tension. you were comfortable around him and he, around you. simple. for example, you and cooper can walk around each other in just a towel with no inhibitions or sometimes, you can just lounge around in your undergarments and there would be no qualms, but for some reason, on this particular day this particular set you were wearing had cooper feeling— different.
he came home, exhausted from a long day on set. his plan was to talk with you, have dinner, maybe watch some television, and go right to bed. that plan was altered when he stepped in the door to hear your upbeat music blaring through the apartment. he knew the root of it was from the kitchen because you had a habit of listening to music when you wanna cook dinner for both, so he followed the sound to routinely greet you, but what cooper found was a sight for sore eyes.
there you were preparing a meal like usual, but you were in this satin, lemon two-piece lingerie set with frills at the end. the vibrant yellow of the fabric accentuated the exposed areas of your glowing, smooth brown skin. not only were you prepping for dinner, but you were slowly whining your hips to the beat, only to pause briefly to continue your task. the lyrics were in french, but you were still vibing to the song by humming the melody. cooper’s hazel eyes were absolutely spellbound by the way you fluidly moved to the music. he figured you didn’t hear him come through the door as you haven’t even noticed that he was watching you. he knew that sometimes you liked to dance for humorous purposes and just for the hell of it, but judging by the deliberate whine of your circling hips, there was a focus you had that caused cooper’s mind to wander. the longer he observed your sensual movements, the redder his cheeks grew as with that familiar tightness within his jeans. cooper was trying figure out what the actual hell was going on with him because he felt like a creep, a pervert even. yeah, flirting and teasing with one another was part of your daily communication, but cooper respected you as a woman, a person, and a good friend— or so he thought.
you were in the heat of the moment, enraptured by the rhythm of the song playing. it was one of your favorites thanks to a friend from haiti who introduced you to the artist. the genre itself represented the intimate closeness of two engaging in a sensual dance. the instrumental bridge was the most aurally addictive part of the whole song and you just let it take over you while you let the food simmer. your friend taught you the basics and practiced with you, but you were craving for a new partner to experiment with. who else better than your roommate? just when you spun around, you find cooper, leaning against the arched threshold with his eyes already glued to your figure as if he were in a trance. internally, you were bashful, but why did that certain look in his eyes encourage you to deliberately sway in his direction? your arm extended forward with an open palm of invitation. your hand takes ahold of his larger one to gently tug him closer to you. cooper didn’t want to impose, he thought you looked absolutely perfect in your own element as you danced, but he was still gravitating towards you as he couldn’t resist every dip and roll of your hips that matched the smooth rhythm. a smirk rises on your pouty lips, you take both of his hands in yours to place them on your whining waist. from what you practiced, you bring your hips close to his as possible before placing your left leg between his, you spread the other, so that one of his legs was between yours.
from another point of view, it looked like you were practically riding his thigh. the position itself had you feeling drunk with anticipation when the rough fabric of his jeans brushed against your satin clothed crotch. you shifted your gaze down at where you were connected, licking your lips before you peer into his bright, hazel eyes.
“is this okay?” you inquire to him in a low voice, your faces inches from each other. you could clearly see the tanned skin of cheeks flushed to a faint red. cooper swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat before he proceeded to answer,
“yes.”
“good—move with me.”
with your arms wrapped securely around cooper’s neck, you proceeded to roll your hips, slowly whining your lower region closer in proximity to his. he began to move, seeming hesitant at first. you grin, trying to give him a boost,
“that’s it, just meet me in the middle. like this—take it nice and slow.”
you demonstrated by moving your hips closer. being the quick learner that he was, he followed your lead as his hands gripped on your exposed waist tighter than before to bring you closer until you both were whining in sync. he smirked, shooting a half-lidded gaze down at your hips. cooper was now getting the vibe of this new sound and this new feeling. it was like being so high in this fantasy that he never wanted to descend into reality, but it wasn’t just the music nor solely the dancing—it was you.
“like this?” he questioned, rolling his hips closer, still at the slow tempo. you could’ve sworn you felt the muscle of his thigh brush against your sensitive bud, but you couldn’t let him know that. you keep telling yourself that it was an accident. he was really catching on nonetheless,
“oh, yeah, just like that, cooper. you’re a fast learner.” you compliment, your hands move a little to hold to the back of his neck. his plush, chocolate curls at the nape graze your fingertips.
“well, you’re quite the teacher—i’d like to learn more, that’s only if you’re willing.” he expressed with such an expression of expectancy. you could honestly melt, all of the banter aside, you always found cooper to be insanely attractive. you have a sliver of hope that he would perceive you in the same way. you were both in the heat of the moment, so why the hell not? you weren’t afraid of taking risks with someone you trust.
“alright, keep moving like this, but hold my leg up to your hip and slowly dip me lower—nice and easy.” you start to raise your leg up for his hand to leave your waist and grasp onto your thigh. goosebumps spiked up your skin as he held on with such a firm squeeze to attach it to the side of his torso. cooper’s other hand stayed flat against the small of your back, his fingertips practically grazing right above your ass. he just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall when he proceeded to dip you lower within his grasp, your hips never ceasing their previous movements.
the line between friendship and something beyond that was damn near invisible the longer you two engaged this dance. your faces were getting so close, that you rested your forehead up against cooper’s, the ends of his curls tickled your skin. your eyes flutter shut as your entire being rose in temperature, especially deep down in your yellow satin panties. for a first timer, cooper had this dance down and with the way his hips were whining in perfect harmony with yours, you wouldn’t be mad if this tension between you lead to one thing after another. cooper didn’t dare to take his eyes off of you. this was another opportunity for him to take in the vision beheld. he observed your lips that were full, pouty, and slightly agape. cooper continued his stare down to the glistening, melanated skin of your entire chest, he didn’t miss the erected points of your nipples greeting him underneath the lemon satin fabric, and those itty bitty matching panties that rolled atop of his jeans. fuck, if you would be okay with it, he’d take you right now with no doubt. you were both adults with needs, so perhaps you both needed to get this out of your system. the concept of friends having a moment of passion had never been foreign. cooper softly called out for your name. when you opened your eyes, he was closer than he had ever been before. the distance between you two was minimal at this point. when he rolled his hips deeper, you felt him poking right where you craved him the most.
“cooper.” you whispered, meeting his amorous, half lidded gaze that darted between each of your eyes before they stop at your lips and end where they started. he leaned his face in closer with his lips ghosting over yours briefly—and he went for it. it started as a soft kiss that was tender and kind, but he stopped to see if you were ready to step over the line with him. this was more than just a dance between friends. your hands cupped his sculpted jaw that was starting grow some stubble to return your lips back to his in a more fervent manner to let him know of your approval. as the kiss progressed, cooper grasped onto your other leg, signaling for you to jump up. you followed his lead, wrapping your legs securely around his waist, a hum erupted from you both once his palms cupped the underside of your ass. cooper embraced you flush against his body as he strode across the kitchen to place you on the counter. his large hands spread your legs apart, so that he could stand in between them. cooper wanted some clarity from you on this situation, but once your lips started their affection on his, he just couldn’t pull away completely.
“fuck, what are we doing?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in closer, your lips barely touching.
you swallowed, your heart racing as your chest heaved with anticipation . “i—i don’t know.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper before sprinkling kisses along his jawline and up to his ear, “but i know one thing—i don’t want you to stop.” you replied, your fingers tangling in his chestnut tresses as you pulled him back in for another kiss in which he instinctively reciprocates by squeezing your ass as he rolls his clothed arousal into yours.
“ah, cooper—mmph!” the cry of his name from your lips drives him to slide his tongue within your mouth. it doesn’t take long for yours to follow his lead as the heat between you was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building with every passing second, touch, and kiss. cooper pulled away from your lips and he kissed down your neck. you gasped, feeling his lips and tongue work in tandem by leaving a glistening trail of saliva along your collarbone and just right above your heaving breasts.
“fuck—you’re so beautiful.” he murmured against your skin, inhaling your sweet, natural scent as if it were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “ and it’s not just your looks either.”
with your head leaning back at his affection, your brown cheeks heated at his words. you felt that this had to be a dream as a mix of embarrassment and excitement flooded through you. “coop, you’re just saying that,” you protested, but could sense the sincerity in his tone. he shook his head.
“mm-mm. no. i mean it,” he insisted, taking a step back to examine your figure that was still scantily clad in the lemon two-piece. with steady hands, he gently went under the hem of your top to caress the smooth exposed skin of your torso. cooper snickered and you raise a brow in question,
“what’s so funny, huh?” you challenge, his contagious smile instantly infecting you to do so.
“i’m just wondering if this—” he paused, referencing to your attire, “was your entire plan to seduce me. if so, consider it successful.” you softly chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes. no matter what moment it may be, cooper always found a way to tease you. you could feel his fingers grip onto the edge of the fabric to hike it up on your navel, he stopped to peer at you in silent permission before going any further. when you give him the green light, the shirt is already above your head and discarded to the floor, your upper half bare for cooper to marvel at.
“goddamnit, you’re stunning.” he praised, still staring in a trance.
“touch me, cooper.” you say to break him out as you couldn’t stand to continue to have the itch that only he could scratch right now. you sigh in pleasure once his palms envelope and massage your breasts. you yelp a bit when he pinches the sensitive, dark points of your nipples before giving each one the proper amount of suckling. he popped your nipple out of his mouth intrigued, grinning as you writhe under his touch,
“sensitive, are we?”
“ngh—shut up and fuck me, cooper.” you demand, squirming and rutting your hips into his. damn him and his relentless teasing, your hands reach down to pull his shirt over his head to reveal his well-fit body that you would just give a brief passing glance to without embarrassing yourself on previous occasions, but now you could fully appreciate the body he’s worked so hard on and whatever he did paid off in the end because it wasn’t long before you started to eagerly make your mark all over his toned skin with your fiery kisses. your hand travels lower until it reaches the stiff tent buried in his jeans, rewarding it with a squeeze.
“damn. remember what you taught me—nice and easy.” cooper reiterated, stopping you briefly before sliding the yellow panties down your legs. after using his hands to divide your thighs, he hisses in ecstasy at the sight of your delicious, wet core. his index and middle fingers don’t hesitate to deliberately move vertically along the slit before making a “v” shape to spread the wet folds of skin apart, the scent of your arousal causing his cock to ache in his pants. cooper leans down his lips ghost over to place a soft kiss on your swollen clit, causing you to whine for him to go further—and so he did. as your pussy is completely enveloped by his mouth, you moan out to place a hand on his head for him to delve deeper. cooper had many talents and gifts you knew of, but he was a fucking master at using his tongue for pleasure by the way he eased his tongue inside of you. you arched your back off the counter as he was jutting the muscle in and out of you with such skill.
“oh my fucking god—cooper!” you exclaimed, your eyes meeting the fluorescent lights of the ceiling before they meet his own that held a slight hint of arrogance. cooper took his tongue out and pressed it flat against the bundle of nerves, nodding his head rapidly without breaking eye contact. your hips began to match the rhythm, the burning tension coiling within you, but you didn’t want to let go like this. cooper was doing phenomenally, but you needed him—all of him.
“coop—cooper, stop!” you stammered trying to articulate your need. “i wanna cum on you, baby.” at your request, it was like clockwork the way he promptly halted his movements to swiftly unbuckle his belt and rid himself of his jeans and boxers. once he revealed himself in all of his thick, hung glory to you for the first time, you can’t deny that cooper was—impressive. when he positioned himself between your legs, he put your thighs securely around his hips. after he aligned his leaking, red tip to your opening, he spoke.
“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to—” before he could finish, you captured his mouth again, the urgency of the moment taking over. your craving for him desperately increased.
“let’s not think about it, cooper—just give it to me.” you breathed against his lips, the thrill of the unknown pushing you both forward, you whine as you could feel the tip teasing at your clit. “yeah, let’s just—fuck it,” he murmured, and with a deliberate motion, his hand guided his cock inside. the thick, veiny shaft filled you up with every inch until cooper bottomed out. it only took a second for you both to adjust to this new sensation of each other.
“fuck, you’re so tight—m’gonna move now, okay?” he softly reassured, his hands hold onto your hips before his start to pull back and move forward, repeating the cycle. cooper brings you in closer, his face buried in the crevice of your shoulder, his light stubble tickled as he proceeded to plant sweet kisses along your hot skin. with each precise stroke of his pelvis he brings more drive, more power to it. he can tell by the repetitive euphoric sounds of his name rolling off your lips that his efforts to please you were not in vain. cooper’s muffled grunts and profanity vibrate against your skin when his cock is tightly hugged by your warm walls, your voice was getting higher in pitch and breathier when his tip finds that erogenous area deep within your cervix.
“ah, shit, right there—right there, cooper!” you whimper, practically begging for him aim in that spot. your legs wrap much tighter around his waist causing your heels dig into his lower back. your nails pierce into the toned muscles of his back as your hips start to move in tandem with his, he deserved to feel just as good as you did—what are friends for?
“fuck, you’re so amazing, sweetheart. you take my cock so well—always knew you would.” cooper praised after gazing down between you. the squelching melody of your pussy was like music to his ears as observed his cock fluidly moving in and out of you like this was supposed to happen from the start. his palms pressed firm into the plush flesh of your hips as your movements grow more desperate and sporadic. the volume of your lewd vocalizations increased as well as the repeated slap of your skin each time you connected. that fiery tension within you started to expand again.
“cooper, i can’t hold it—fuck, m’gonna cum!” the tension grew tighter within you. cooper was getting close also, but he wanted to confirm with you first.
“i get it, gorgeous—so you want me to…?” he trailed, meeting your eyes again, hoping you caught his drift and you instantly knew by hastily nodding. “yes! yes, cum with me, it’s okay.” cooper put one hand in between you for his thumb to instantly find your sensitive pleasure point. as he rapidly caressed the wet, puffy bud, it was enough for the tension to snap, sending multiple shockwaves of pleasure as your entire body arched off the counter then trembled to ooze out the pent up arousal that’s been dying to be released onto cooper’s cock. he still kept the same rapid pace when his orgasm rushed over him, guttural whimpers erupted from his mouth as he filled you so much to the brim. the sticky white substance overflowed out of you and leaked onto your thighs. as you come back down from such an intense high, the shallow pants of you both reverberated through the kitchen when cooper pulled out, your skin luminous in the afterglow of such a blissful experience between platonic roommates.
with an affectionate gaze and a gentle touch to your jaw, cooper placed a chaste kiss to your lips.
“you okay?” he murmured, awaiting your answer. you nod, kissing him back promptly. “mm-hm. m’good.” you two just stared each other down, not knowing how to address the obvious elephant in the room.
“cooper—will things change between us now? i don’t know what this is, but just know i never want to lose you.” you stated, taking his hand within yours to place a kiss to his open palm. cooper simpered, he always loved this vulnerable, tender side of you. you genuinely seemed content, despite the uncertainty of the future. he stood in between your legs again, taking both of your hands in his with a soft, warm grip.
“i won’t lie to you and say this won’t change things between us, but i never want to lose you either. if you want, we can do this just for the hell of it. if not, that’s perfectly fine.” he pecked the top of your head, his nostrils briefly catches the natural, sweet aroma of your hair products. “we’ll work it out because we go together.” he quips with a wink and you giggle,
“boy, i know you did not just quote grease right now!”
then suddenly you sniff the air, your stomach drops in realization.
“fuck, cooper! help get me down before this place catches fire.” moving with such haste, cooper helps you down, aiding you in turning off the stove and covering your hands to retrieve the food. you both laugh out loud as it appears to be slightly burnt.
“ah, damn.” cooper chuckled, “i guess you can’t cook, dance, and fuck simultaneously anymore.” you playfully roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder.
“shut up, coop!”
you and cooper were both worn out from your previous encounter, so you settled for a caring shared shower, chinese takeout, and a horror movie. the night didn’t end without him teasing you though.
“y’know since we’ve fucked, we can now walk naked around each other without any problems.” he comments with his cheeky grin.
all you could do was laugh with a heated face before taking a pillow from the couch and whacking cooper with it.
“cooper, i’m gonna beat your freaky ass!”
“please do!”
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cheeksofstars · 1 month ago
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spellbound. ೨ৎ e. x reader
𐙚˚ ekko x fem!reader. fluff. 0.8k words.
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✦ ekko had always been good at multitasking. he had to be, considering his role as the leader of the firelights and the countless things that demanded his attention. but whenever you started talking, it was like the rest of the world faded into the background.
it didn’t matter if you were telling a story, explaining a plan, or simply rambling about something that had caught your attention—ekko couldn’t help himself. his eyes would lock onto you, his head tilting slightly as he leaned closer, soaking up every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world.
and of course, today was no different.
you were sitting across from him in the firelights’ hideout, animatedly discussing an idea you had about improving their communication system. your hands moved as you spoke, drawing invisible diagrams in the air, and your voice was filled with that infectious enthusiasm that ekko adored.
he had started the conversation by tinkering with one of his gadgets, but at some point, the screwdriver in his hand had been forgotten. now, he was just… watching you.
the way your eyes lit up when you got excited, the slight furrow of your brow when you were concentrating, the way your lips curved when you smiled—it was all utterly captivating.
“ekko? are you even listening?”
your voice snapped him out of his trance. he blinked, realizing too late that he’d been staring.
“uh, yeah!” he said quickly, though the faint blush creeping up his neck gave him away.
you narrowed your eyes at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “really? then what did i just say?”  
“something about, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck, trying, and failing, to come up with an answer. “you know, communication… stuff?”
you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “wow. i pour my heart into this idea, and you’re just sitting there zoning out.”
“i wasn’t zoning out!” he protested, his cheeks burning now. “i was… focused."
“on what, exactly?”
he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before meeting yours again. “on you.”
that caught you off guard. your teasing smile faltered, replaced by a softer expression. “oh.”
ekko rubbed the back of his neck again, his usual confidence faltering under your gaze. “i mean, you’re just… really easy to listen to. i like the way you talk, the way you explain things. it’s… nice.”
a warm blush spread across your cheeks, and you looked away, suddenly shy under his intense gaze. “well… thanks, i guess.”
the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the air between you charged with unspoken emotions. then, ekko cleared his throat, breaking the tension.
“so, uh… communication system, huh? tell me more about it.”
you smiled, the warmth in his voice giving you the confidence to continue. and this time, when you started talking, you noticed the way ekko’s eyes stayed on you—soft, attentive, and completely captivated.
as you continued talking, a newfound shyness crept into your words. you tried to keep your focus on the communication system idea, but ekko’s unwavering attention made it difficult. his eyes didn’t just watch you; they studied you, memorized you, as if you were the only thing worth focusing on in the room.
eventually, you paused, rubbing the back of your neck. “okay, now you’re making it hard to think.”
ekko grinned, leaning back in his chair with a boyish charm that made your heart skip a beat. “why’s that?”
“because you’re staring at me like i’m some kind of science experiment,” you teased, trying to regain your composure.
“not an experiment,” he replied smoothly, his grin softening into something more genuine. “more like… art.”
your face warmed, and you let out a nervous laugh. “you’re terrible at this, you know that?”
“at what?”
“at flirting.”
that earned a laugh from him, and for a moment, the tension dissolved into something lighter. ekko leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between you. “okay, maybe i’m not great at it. but i’m serious about this.”
“serious about what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.
“you,” he said simply, his tone steady and earnest. “you’ve always been amazing, but every time you talk, every time you get excited about something... i feel like i’m seeing you all over again. and i can’t stop looking. it’s a problem.”
his words hung in the air, your heart pounding in your chest as you searched his face for any sign that he might be joking. but there was nothing but honesty in his eyes.
“what're you going to do about it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
ekko smirked, leaning just a little closer. “i don’t know. maybe i’ll keep staring. unless you want to stop me.”
you shook your head, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “i don’t think i want to stop you.”
and in that moment, the noise of the hideout faded away, leaving just the two of you. ekko didn’t need to say anything more—his eyes, his smile, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world—said everything he couldn’t put into words.
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beauiestars · 1 month ago
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Logan Howlett x Reader
(Part One/Part Two)
Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Fem!Reader
PROMPT: "You've been alive for over a century, but you still don't know how to ask someone out?"
SUMMARY: You're a new teacher at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and the school's resident grumpy teacher has fallen head over heels for you. Unfortunately, has no idea how to show it.
WORD COUNT: 1.6K
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The sound of Logan's heavy footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, accompanied by the faint chatter from nearby classrooms. He had dismissed his class early under the guise of a bad hangover, which led him to take a stroll on the second floor. Coincidentally—though everyone knew the real reason, they allowed him to believe he was being slick—the second floor just happened to be where your classroom was.
As he neared the door, his steps slowed, anticipation stirring within him.
He peeked inside, and his chest tightened at the sight of you. You were in your element, perched cross-legged on your desk, your hands moving expressively as you spoke. Your words and body language held your class spellbound. They hung on your every word, soaking up everything you said like sponges.
Logan found himself equally entranced.
Before he knew it, he was leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on you. You were so absorbed in your lesson that you didn't even notice him standing there. But that allowed him more time to take you in, uninterrupted.
You were breathtaking.
Though you'd only been teaching at the school for a few months, you had already captured the hearts of students and staff alike. And Logan? He was a goner. There was something magnetic about you, something that drew him in and left him aching for more.
At first, it was your looks that caught his attention. The moment you'd stepped into view, he'd been stunned. Your face was a work of art—astoundingly beautiful. Your figure left him breathless, igniting thoughts he couldn't suppress, no matter how hard he tried.
But then you spoke, and you had him whipped. You were intelligent, witty, and undeniably funny—a combination that left him trembling.
Even when he'd been brusque and dismissive toward you at first—a bad habit—you had held your ground. You'd called him out without hesitation, putting him firmly in his place. You challenged him like very few others had, and Logan loved a challenge.
Now, watching you command the room with such ease, he couldn't help but marvel at you. You had him wrapped around your delicate, manicured finger—and Logan wouldn't have had it any other way.
"Alright, class," you said, drawing your rant to a close. You placed your palms on your thighs in a casual movement, but Logan's sharp eyes tracked them as they slid down to the fabric of your trousers. The way they clung to you had him swallowing hard, an intrusive thought flashing through his mind about cutting them off you entirely.
"That's all for today, I think," you continued, oblivious to his wandering gaze. "Just make sure you read those chapters I assigned, and I'll see you all in the morning."
Logan had never seen a group of students so reluctant to leave. They dawdled, taking their time packing up, and several made their way to your desk—peppering you with questions. Some were about the lesson, but others were shamelessly trivial: questions about your weekend plans or your favourite coffee.
You answered each one with genuine interest, your smile never faltering as you indulged their curiosity before gently ushering them out.
Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, amused at the scene unfolding in front of him. He soaked up the final moments of being able to admire you—some of your students giving him odd looks as they passed by. Finally, as the last student exited, he crossed the threshold into your classroom.
"Some talent with the kids you've got there, bub," he remarked with an amused scoff, his deep voice cutting through the quiet room.
You turned to him, startled at first, before a smile spread across your face, softening your features. "Maybe not being grumpy and unapproachable all the time does wonders for teacher-student relations," you teased, a playful lilt in your voice.
Your jab hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of his carefully crafted composure. If he weren't so determined to keep up his rugged act, he might have blushed. There was nothing like an attractive woman with a razor-sharp wit to get Logan on his knees.
"Haha, very funny," he said, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance, though the grin tugging at his lips was impossible to hide. "Seriously, though—you've got a real gift with them."
You gasped theatrically, placing a hand over your chest as if he'd just said something scandalous. Logan's gaze followed the movement shamelessly, the way your fingers brushed against your collarbone practically hypnotic.
"Was that a real compliment from Mister Howlett?" you asked, voice dripping with mock disbelief. "Raven, is that you?"
Your laughter bubbled out of you, light and infectious, like you couldn't contain it. Logan stood no chance; his grin broke free, and he let himself enjoy the moment. You had him, and he didn't even mind.
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got jokes, huh? Don't get used to the compliments, sweetheart. They're in short supply."
"That's a shame," you quipped, tilting your head at him with a sly smile. "I think I could get used to hearing them from you."
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. The playful banter between the two of you was something he found he couldn't go without after having a taste of it. "Careful, darlin'. Keep talking like that, and people might think you've got a soft spot for me."
You scoffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against your desk. "A soft spot for you? Please. You've spent half the semester pretending I don't exist, and the other half grumbling at me in the teachers' lounge."
"Grumbling?" he repeated with mock offense, taking a step closer. "I don't grumble."
"Oh, you do," you teased, mimicking his low, gravelly tone. "'Mornin'. Coffee tastes like ass again.' 'Kids these days don't know respect.' 'Who the hell called this faculty meeting?' Classic Logan Howlett." You placed your hand over your mouth to suppress a fit of giggles escaping you.
His laugh rumbled deep in his chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish despite himself. "Alright, fine. Maybe I'm a little grumbly. But you're not exactly innocent, you know. Always throwing those big words around like you're trying to confuse me."
You smirked. "I think you're confusing yourself, Mister Howlett. I'm just speaking plain English."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Plain English, huh? Then why do I feel like every word outta your mouth is some kinda challenge?"
Your breath hitched, but you didn't let him see you falter. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze head-on. "Maybe you just like a challenge."
Logan's lips curved into a slow, knowing grin, and for a moment, the tension hung thick in the air, electric and undeniable.
Logan cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to the floor before quickly snapping back to you. The easy smirk he usually wore faltered, replaced by a shift in posture that screamed unease.
"Anyway," he started, his voice a bit rougher than normal, "I, uh... I was thinkin'..."
You raised an eyebrow, stifling a grin. "Dangerous," you teased, watching him squirm.
He shot you a quick look, lips pressing into a thin line, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Right, well—" He fumbled with his words, clearly struggling to keep his usual tough demeanor. "So, you wanna... grab a beer sometime? Or... dinner. If you're into that."
You tilted your head, genuinely entertained by his discomfort. "Oh, I see." You smirked, crossing your arms, letting the silence stretch on a beat too long. You loved to keep a man—especially one so strong and self-assured as Logan—on his toes. "You're trying to ask me out, aren't you?"
Logan's eyes widened just slightly, the colour rising in his cheeks as he muttered, "No. I mean—yeah. I guess." He huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's not... well, I'm usually better at this."
You chuckled softly, leaning back against your desk as you watched him fumble. You found it quite adorable, really. "Logan," you began, your tone light and teasing, "you've been alive for over a century, but you still don't know how to ask someone out?"
His face twisted in annoyance, but the blush still lingered, making him look even more endearing in his discomfort. "Yeah, yeah. Real funny," he grumbled, voice low. "Look, it's not like I've had time to work on my dating skills, alright?"
"Oh, I'm sure," you replied, still holding back a smile. "The whole brooding, grumpy loner thing must've really worked in your favour, huh?"
"Shut up," he muttered, though there was no heat behind it. He tried to look away, but his gaze flickered back to you, as if he couldn't help himself. "So... what's it gonna be? You in for that beer or what?"
You tilted your head, letting the silence hang a little longer just to make him sweat. Then, finally, you leaned forward with a grin. "Alright, Logan," you said, voice almost too sweet. "I'll grab that beer with you."
His shoulders visibly relaxed, and the slight smirk returned to his lips. "Good. I wasn't gonna stop askin' till you said yes."
You shook your head, unable to suppress your amusement. "Persistent and charming. Who knew?"
He shot you a sideways glance, a playful glint in his eye. "You're lucky you're cute when you're mocking me, or I might've just left you hanging."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," you teased, crossing your arms. "You still don't know how to ask someone out."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head, and went about the rest of his day itching to take you on that date.
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆
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loulou-land · 6 days ago
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5 Times Buck Realized He Could Be Clingy + 1 Time Tommy was the Clingy One
Day 4 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Clingy Boyfriends | 4,076 words
(1) Before a Shift
Mornings like these were always the hardest for Buck. 
After days spent together—wrapped up in each other, tucked away from the world—it was too easy to get used to having Tommy there. Waking up beside him, getting to roll over to steal lazy kisses, lingering in bed until the sun had well and truly come up. Then, moving to the kitchen, sharing warm coffee, leaning into each other's spaces as they made breakfast, coming up with half-baked plans for the day that they may or may not follow through on. 
Buck had done a bit of the domesticity thing with Taylor, but it wasn’t anywhere close to what this was. He had never felt as comfortable as he did with Tommy.  And the most incredible part? How seamlessly they had fallen into it, without a second thought. 
But eventually, reality came knocking. 
And Buck hated it. 
The soft glow of their cozy bubble would be ripped away by ringing alarms and the harsh reality of shifts that wouldn't align for a while. And today, it was Tommy’s turn to leave for a shift while Buck still had the rest of the day off. 
Buck tried to be normal about it. He really did. 
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He'd stayed curled up in bed, watching as Tommy moved through his morning routine—brushing his teeth while Buck sleepily watched from the pillow; buttoning up his uniform with practiced ease, Buck following the movement of his hands spellbound; sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots, just within his reach. 
Okay, time to be cool. Rein it in, Buck thought. Wish him a good day and go back to sleep. 
Instead, before Tommy could make a move to stand, Buck latched on. 
Nothing dramatic—just a small tug at the fabric of Tommy’s shirt—just enough to stall him. 
Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh, and Buck immediately backtracked. 
“ Sorry ,” Buck laughed, sheepish. “Just…fixing your shirt. All good now.” 
It was pathetic, but his fingers still didn’t let go. 
Tommy hummed, turning slightly, looking at him consideringly. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 
And Buck…he definitely should've let go by now. He didn't want to make Tommy late. Instead, his finger tightened in the fabric, just slightly. 
Tommy noticed. He always noticed. 
But he didn't call him out on his dramatics. Didn't tease him. He just reached down, cupped the side of Buck’s face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, right over his birthmark. 
“I'll text you between calls.” Tommy promised. 
Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing himself to nod. “ Be safe .” 
Tommy kissed him again, slower this time—lingering, reassuring—before heading for the door. 
A little while later, Buck decided to brave the day. He had barely finished pouring his coffee when his phone buzzed. 
8:55 am
Tommy: Lucy brought donuts today :) (attached image: Tommy biting into a glazed donut, blue eyes sparkling happily) 
Buck huffed out a startled laugh, shaking his head at his boyfriend's massive sweet tooth. 
Buck: Looks delicious. But not as delicious as the man holding it ;) 
Tommy: Evan…behave 😤 
And that was only the beginning. 
9:47am 
Tommy: you have competition, look at how adorable he is (attached image: a orange tabby stretched out on the concrete taking a nap) 
Buck: I’m more adorable tho 🥺 right?
Buck: Tommy?? 
Buck: right?!!
10:05 am
Buck: I just watched that new documentary on black holes.
Buck: Did you know a black hole could fit in your pocket? 🤯
Tommy: That must be why I’m always losing stuff after I’ve put them in my pockets…
Buck: dork 🙄
Tommy: only for you ❤️ 
10:58am
Tommy: I’m going to kill the newbie
Buck: why? 
Buck: please don’t. I need you here, not in jail. 
Tommy: he keeps using my coffee mug 😑
Buck: wow, brave man…
11:05 am
Buck: (attached image: Buck in front of the mirror, wearing form fitting workout clothes and smirking into the camera) 
Tommy: Baby 😍  
Tommy: You don’t play fair. But two can play this game
Tommy: (attached image: Tommy wearing aviator glasses, smiling smugly, sitting in the cockpit of the helicopter) 
Buck: …you win 🥵
They continued texting every moment they could throughout the day. Tommy telling him about an interesting call they'd gotten about a naked hiker stuck up in a tree, how he regretted asking the guy how it happened, how Lucy kept teasing him for texting so much and how he couldn’t wait to see him again.  
Buck loved it.
And somewhere in the back and forth of messages, Buck realized something. 
 Tommy really was unlike anyone he'd ever met. 
Because Tommy didn't just tolerate Buck’s need to share every thought, every feeling, every random little moment—he truly wanted it. 
(2) Holding Hands
Buck was a touchy person. 
But it wasn't something he'd ever really thought about—until he started dating tommy. 
Because now, whenever they were on a date, every time they were out together, Buck found himself hyper-aware of the way their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. The way Tommy’s warmth bled into him, a steady presence, grounding, there. 
Buck relished it. Enjoyed being close to Tommy. 
But what he really loved? 
Holding Tommy’s hand. 
There was something addicting about the feeling of it—calloused and strong, big enough to make Buck’s fingers feel almost small in comparison. It was ridiculous how much he liked that, how obsessed he was with the way his hand fit so perfectly in Tommy’s. 
It had been a revelation the first time it happened. They were walking through a farmer’s market on a lazy Sunday morning, sipping coffee and browsing fresh produce. Buck had been excitedly telling Tommy about the health benefits of squash while Tommy listened intently. It had been natural, the way Buck’s hand had found Tommy’s—automatic, easy, just right. 
And then he’d looked down at them. At their fingers interlaced together, Tommy’s grip was firm and warm. Confident and sure. 
Buck hadn't meant to stare at them, completely oblivious to the world around him. But he was amazed at how perfect it felt, like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place. Then Tommy squeezed his hand, and Buck had looked up—face flushing, embarrassed at being caught. 
Without a word, Tommy lifted their joined hands and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to Buck’s hand. 
Buck tripped. 
It was just a small misstep, but Tommy definitely spotted it. 
“You good, Evan?” Tommy said grinning. 
“Yeah. Totally. That wasn't—” Buck stammered, clearing his throat. “Just, uh, uneven pavement.” 
Tommy smirked. “Mhm,” 
Buck glared at him, but it was hard to look indignant when his heart was currently doing flips inside his chest. 
That moment had opened the floodgates.  
After that Buck would reach for Tommy’s hand without even thinking about it. His fingers sliding between Tommy’s, intertwining, squeezing just slightly. Holding on for as long as he could. 
If Tommy needed to open a door, reach for something or take out his wallet Buck would relinquish his hold for a few seconds before immediately latching on again. 
Tommy always smiled, a small little pleased thing. 
So Buck kept doing it. He reached for him when walking together. When they were waiting in line for coffee. In the car, driving to places. While out at the bar with their family and friends. At home, snuggling on the couch or laying in bed.  
And every time, Tommy let him. 
No teasing. No hesitation. 
Just a gentle squeeze back, like he never wanted to let go either. 
(3) After a Bad Call
Some shifts turned out bad.
Buck had accepted that a long time ago.
But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.
It didn’t make it easier when a call went south, when a victim slipped away no matter how hard they tried. It didn’t make it easier when he could still hear the sounds of screaming or see the way that life slipped through his fingers.
It didn’t make it easier when the self-doubt crept in, making its home in him, when his chest tightened with the weight of it all, when the voices whispered in his ear—you should’ve done more, you should’ve been better, you should’ve saved them.
Sometimes, those voices sounded exactly like his parents.
Other times, it was just his own.
And on those nights, Buck needed something solid. He craved something warm. Something that told him he was still here. That he still mattered. 
But asking for comfort had never been easy for him. Especially when Buck felt like he didn’t deserve it. When he felt like he was making things once again all about himself. 
So when he walked through the door, carrying the weight of that night’s failure, he didn’t say anything.
Buck dropped his keys on the counter. Stood with his hands flat on it as he stared unseeing at the grainy dots of the countertop. Then he rubbed a hand over his face like that would somehow scrub the frustration off of him.
Buck tensed when he felt strong arms circle his waist and got pulled into a steady chest. He matched his breathing to Tommy’s and felt himself slowly relaxing and letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 
It helped that Tommy didn’t ask.
He just took one look at Buck and knew.
Knew what Buck needed, even if he couldn’t say it.
“C’mere .”
Buck didn’t even hesitate.
He turned around and let himself be pulled in, let himself be wrapped up in Tommy’s arms.
And for a while, he just stood there, breathing Tommy in, grounding himself in the warmth of his chest, not thinking about anything other than Tommy Tommy Tommy . 
Eventually, Tommy kissed his temple, then nudged him toward the bathroom.
“Hot shower first. Then I’ve got you.”
And Buck froze for a second, completely amazed at the concept that someone had him. 
After the shower, Buck found his favorite sweatpants and hoodie waiting for him. The ones that were soft and well-worn, the ones that felt safe. The ones he’d hide in when he was feeling particularly raw and bereft. His heart picked up speed at the thought that Tommy had picked up on that. Had remembered. 
There was a cup of soothing tea on the nightstand.
But most importantly?
There was Tommy.
Sitting on the bed, waiting with open arms, like he already knew exactly where Buck needed to be.
Buck didn’t fight it anymore. 
He climbed into bed, curled into Tommy’s chest, let himself feel it— the warmth, the comfort, the weight of arms holding him together when he felt like he was falling apart at the seams. 
Tommy didn’t say anything, just rubbed slow circles into his back, a steady touch that anchored him, that reminded him he was here.
At some point, Buck let the pain in him crack open.
He exhaled shakily, pressed his face into Tommy’s neck, wrapped his fingers in his shirt and let himself cry.
And Tommy just held him.
Didn’t judge him, didn’t rush him, didn’t tell him to pull himself together, didn’t make him feel any less for showing emotions, didn’t say it was fine because it wasn’t.
Tommy just held on tighter to Buck. 
And when Buck’s breathing evened out, when the exhaustion started creeping in, Tommy finally spoke—low, soft, certain.
“You did everything you could, baby.”
“You’re a damn good firefighter, Evan.”
“I’ve got you. I’m here.” 
And Buck—warm and safe, pressed against the only person who had ever made him feel like he could just be, that he didn’t have to hold it all in—let himself believe it.
(4) In Public
Buck had never really been big on PDA.
Not because he was uncomfortable with it—he just hadn’t really been the type. With past partners, he’d hold hands, drape an arm around their shoulder, maybe rest a hand on their lower back. A quick kiss on the cheeks or lips. But that was it. 
With Tommy, it was different. He just— wanted. All the time.  
It was like some switch had flipped in his brain. Like his body just instinctively sought Tommy out. Tommy was Earth, and Buck was his moon, caught in his orbit. 
He couldn’t help it.
Wherever they were, Buck was aware of him.
Tommy could be across the room, deep in conversation with Bobby, or standing at the truck joking around with Eddie, and Buck would still know exactly where he was at all times.
(Chimney had once called it his Built-In Tommy Radar™.)
Which, granted, was very dramatic.
But also, not entirely untrue.
And really, he blamed Tommy. He’d totally conditioned Buck. Because every time their eyes met across the room, Tommy would give him that smile.
The soft, scrunchy one, the one that was just for him.
And Buck?
Buck was a lost cause. 
What else was he supposed to do but make his way to Tommy? To kiss that smile that was his and his alone, to sigh happily into his mouth, to melt under Tommy’s touch—the warm press of his hands on Buck’s hips, the rest of the world fading away. 
So yeah. Maybe he was a PDA guy.
Maybe he did like having Tommy’s arms around him, the way he got pulled in effortlessly as Tommy talked to Chim, Hen or Eddie, like it was second nature, like he was proud to have Buck in his arms. 
And maybe he did like the steady hand on his lower back when walking through a crowd, the way Tommy would subtly shift in front of him, protective without even thinking about it (and though Buck could take care of himself, there was something about the action that made him feel cared for), the soft kiss to the side of his head when there was a lull in conversation. 
He also loved the dorky, completely endearing compliments Tommy gave Buck regardless of whoever was standing within listening distance, they always left him grinning like an idiot. 
 He doesn’t ever remember being as giddy as he gets when Tommy flirts with him—making him feel as nervous as their very first date. 
And maybe—just maybe—he was a little obsessed with Tommy’s hugs.
(Okay, a lot obsessed.)
Because Tommy gave the best hugs.
Big and warm, arms wrapped around him like a shield, like Buck was something precious.
So yeah, he sought them out. Constantly. And maybe that happened to be when they were around people. So what. It was always a good time to get a Tommy hug. 
And Tommy never denied him.
So Buck kept doing it. 
One time, Buck had been trapped in a long-winded Chimney movie rant, which was fine, except he really missed Tommy and wanted to be in his arms. 
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fascinating. Uh…excuse me, I gotta go ask Tommy something…” he said, turning in the direction of where he knew Tommy was. 
Chimney stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” 
Buck blinked. “Hmm? What?’
Chimney sighed. “Go on. Find Tommy. I’m stealing him later.” He pointed a finger at Buck. “Heactually appreciates my movie discussions.” 
Buck snorted. “Good luck with that.” He patted Chim’s shoulder and happily took off. 
He found Tommy in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine and talking to Hen. Without hesitation, Buck slotted himself into his side.
Tommy didn't even pause—just wrapped an arm around him, tugged him in closer, and kept talking.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world, to have a Buck shaped limpet attached to his side. 
Which, to be fair, it kind of was now.
Hen just raised an eyebrow. “You really can’t go five minutes without touching him, huh?”
“Nope,” Buck said easily.
Tommy just smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, and kept rubbing slow circles into his back.
Buck grinned, nuzzling into Tommy’s neck, unable to mask the joy he felt in simple moments like this—where he objectively knew he was maybe being a bit too much, but had learned that in Tommy’s eyes? 
It was never enough. 
(5) After the Breakup 
After the breakup—and after Tommy realized his mistake, and after Buck ignored what everyone else was telling him and went to get his man back, and after the screaming-crying match outside Tommy’s house, followed by clothes ripping, up against the door, we’re-having-sex-and-getting-back-together moment—Buck’s clinginess ramped up. 
Not in a bad way. Not in a suffocating, unhealthy way.
Just in a he-knows-what-life-without-Tommy-feels-like-and-doesn’t-want-to-go-through-that-ever-again way.
And luckily for him, Tommy felt exactly the same.
Which was why, after a week of barely seeing each other because of their shifts, Buck was on the verge of losing it. He needed his Tommy time. It was a necessity at this point. 
Buck was so ready to make up for lost time.
Usually, when this happened, they’d spend a full 48 hours wrapped up in each other. No interruptions, no responsibilities—just them.
But this time?
This time, the universe had conspired against them. 
Buck didn’t know what god's he’d pissed off, but he’d love to make them an offering because this? This was just unfair. 
Instead of catching up properly—with a nice dinner (Tommy for desert), a relaxing movie (which they wouldn’t really watch, because Buck would be riding Tommy), a long shower (where Tommy would suck him dry), and finally going to bed (making love until they wrung a couple of orgasm of each other)—they’d fallen asleep. 
They’d both come off exhausting shifts that had gone into overtime, stumbled into bed, shared a sleepy kiss, and promptly passed out. 
Of course, the next morning, they’d overslept.
Which meant no lazy morning kisses, no waking Tommy up with a blowjob, no time to soak each other in, and—worst of all—no shower quickie.
Nope. Rather, they’d had to rush out the door to make it to Bobby and Athena’s BBQ. 
“Can’t we just stay in this time?” Buck pouted. “I can just tell them I got sick.”
Tommy chuckled, “Baby, we did that last time. And they didn’t believe it.” 
“Well, how was I supposed to know you were such a bad actor? Buck huffed. “I told you to sound nasally, not British.” 
Tommy shrugged, throwing him a long-suffering smile. “Well, now you know why I’m a pilot and not an actor,” he said drily. 
Buck slumped in the passenger seat, fidgeting with Tommy’s fingers “I just want you all to myself. I feel like I haven’t seen in forever,” he whined. 
“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” Tommy squeezed his hand. “But if we don’t make an appearance, we’re getting disowned.”
“Fine,” Buck grumbled. 
And now, Buck was suffering.
He was pretty sure his family had conspired to ruin his life. Because tell him why everyone kept stealing Tommy away.
First, Chimney cornered him to talk about the greatest horror movies of the ‘90s (Who cares, Buck thought viciously.) 
Then, Eddie pulled him aside for car talk. (C’mon man, you guys have your own bro day for this!) 
After that, Maddie and Karen had claimed him, dragging him into a corner with wine and gossip (And okay, fine, Buck couldn’t compete with that right now—Tommy did love juicy gossip.) 
But Buck? 
Buck was two seconds away from doing some maiming. 
He tried to be patient.
Tried to play it cool.
But after an hour of barely seeing Tommy? When they’d come here together? 
Enough was enough.
So when they finally sat down to eat, Buck plopped himself right into Tommy’s lap.
Just. Dropped right in.
Complete silence around the table. 
Until— 
“Oh my god.” Chimney, squawked. 
“Can you two be normal for five minutes?” Eddie sighed.
“Buckaroo, you do know there’s an empty chair right there?” Athena said, dryly. 
“I’m surprised he lasted this long without touching Tommy,” Hen smirked. 
Bobby just shook his head and passed the potatoes to Maddie. 
“I think it’s sweet,” Maddie said, completely unbothered.
Tommy just laughed, wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Missed me, babe?”
“You have no idea,” Buck sighed dramatically, melting against him.
The table collectively groaned.
“Disgusting.” Hen.
“Sickening.” Chimney.
“Truly vile.” Eddie.
“You’re all just jealous,” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder.
Tommy chuckled, dropping a kiss to the side of Buck’s head, keeping one hand on his waist and pulling their plate closer to share. 
Buck grinned.
Yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. 
(+1) After the Breakup - Tommy’s Version
Tommy woke up first.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself staring at Evan. 
Evan, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, face soft and relaxed, his lips curved into the smallest, barely-there smile.
His head was pillowed on Tommy’s arm, his fingers curled loosely around Tommy’s waist, even in sleep still holding on.
Tommy exhaled, slow and careful, like if he moved too fast, it would all disappear.
Because some part of him—the stupid, still-scared part of him—was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was all a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of his own mind.
How could Evan really be here—in his house, in his bed, in his arms?
But no. He remembered.
Tommy remembered opening the door yesterday and coming face to face with an angry, teary-eyed Evan.
He remembered the way Evan had yelled at him—loud and emotional and so heartbreakingly honest.
“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Tommy! You don’t get to decide that you won’t be my last!”
And Tommy had broken down. Had said things he never meant to say out loud.
Had told Evan that he deserved better.
And Evan had shouted right back—loud, frustrated but completely sure of himself.
“I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you. Not some mythical, perfect person out there. You—Tommy. You’re already my perfectly imperfect guy. I love you.”
And Tommy—God.
Tommy had wanted to believe him. Had wanted to trust it.
So he’d made a choice. Because living without Evan had been the worst experience of his life.
And now, here they were.
Evan made a soft sound, stirring awake.
Tommy watched as his eyelashes fluttered, as his breathing shifted, as blue eyes slowly blinked open.
And then Evan saw him. And smiled, bright and beaming and easy, like he’d never once doubted Tommy was going to be here.
God.
How could Tommy have ever let this go?
He lifted a hand, fingers tracing the shape of Evan’s lips, his nose, the sharp line of his jaw. He followed the slope of his eyebrow, the curve of the pink mark above it.
Evan hummed happily, leaning into his touch.
And something in Tommy cracked wide open. Now that he could finally touch again, he couldn’t stop.
Not in the desperate, frantic way they had last night, when their hands had been all urgency, all need, all pent-up longing and desperation.
No. This was softer.
This was Tommy relearning Evan—as if he could ever truly forget him—his hands traveling slowly, memorizing and rediscovering all at once.
The curve of Evan’s hip. The dip of his spine. The warmth of his skin under Tommy’s palm.
Evan preened under the attention, sighing happily, and Tommy just soaked him in.
They lay there for a while, watching each other, saying everything without really saying a word.
Until finally, Evan made a move to sit up.
Tommy hadn’t even realized he made a noise—something small, something desperate, something aching—until Evan stopped instantly.
“Hey.” Evan’s voice was soft, questioning. “What’s wrong?”
Tommy swallowed.
His throat felt tight.
“Just—” He hesitated, but only for a second, then let himself be honest.
“Stay. A little while longer. Please.”
Evan smiled, soft and knowing. “Of course, honey.”
He opened his arms, and Tommy fell into them, into warmth and safety and home. Fell into the one place he never wanted to leave again.
Evan’s arms came up around him, holding him just as tightly as Tommy was holding on to him.
Tommy pressed his face into the crook of Evan’s neck, exhaling slow, letting himself breathe, letting himself believe.
He had Evan.
Because Evan had chosen him.
And this time?
Tommy wasn’t letting him go.
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anatay004 · 1 year ago
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ꜰɪɴɴɪᴄᴋ ᴏᴅᴀɪʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ (part four)
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ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 70ᴛʜ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ — ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ-ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʙʏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡ.
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"YOU LOOK ETHEREAL."
Your stylist's voice filled the room, but your mind was too preoccupied with scrutinizing the stranger who stared back at you in the mirror. You didn't recognize yourself underneath all of the makeup and expensive fabric that lingered on your skin. You felt unrecognizable.
Your stylist had outdone himself.
Your hair cascaded down your back in voluminous waves that could've stolen the show on their own. But the dress — that's what made you hold back your breath, it was absolutely beautiful. It resembled a mermaid, an old tale of District Four that was often whispered to children during bedtime stories. It was a white-blue dress that wrapped around your frame perfectly, from top to bottom. It was adorned with bits of crystals and the illusion of scales, albeit it was a little too revealing for your liking, but you supposed it was all part of the show.
"Snow requested the dress himself." Your stylist informed me when he noticed the curious look on your face. You didn't reply right away, too pensive to word a phrase out. If Snow was putting such an effort into your attire, it could only mean he wanted you to outshine the rest of the tributes. Win the sponsors. You supposed he was doing his part of the deal after all.
"It's beautiful." You managed to whisper at last, to which your stylist only chuckled.
"You are beautiful." He corrected, taking a few steps closer to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "The dress is merely an accessory."
"Thank you." You smiled at him, feeling suddenly grateful for his kindness. It wasn't often when you got to come across generous people in the games, but you were lucky to have him.
"Go on," He beckoned you gently out of the room. "People are waiting for you, princess."
You smiled at him before following his instructions and making your way to the carriages. Most of the tributes were already there, waiting by their horses with extravagant attires and spellbound features that made it quite hard for you to not stare. After a few minutes, you eventually glanced over your shoulder in search of Finnick, but an annoyed expression quickly settled over your face when you realized he was talking to Katniss.
A little too close to your liking.
"A mermaid," Peeta's voice suddenly slid into your thoughts and you instinctively turned to face him. He was standing a few feet away from you, offering a harmless smile as he continued, "I didn't know mermaids were part of District Four's contribution to the Capitol."
"That's because you haven't heard about our bedtime stories," You replied, returning your attention back to the horses in front of you. It was more than evident you didn't want to encourage the interaction between the two of you, but Peeta, somehow, chose to ignore it.
"You mean the bedtime stories where the mermaids seduced the sailors who tried to escape District Four and were dragged down to the bottom of the sea."
For a moment, you went quiet as you realized he knew exactly what he was talking about. "How do you know that?" You asked curiously, turning back to face him again.
Peeta simply shrugged. "I did my research."
His answer seemed harmless, but you couldn't help, but narrow your eyes at him. Was he trying to fool you? Manipulate you? Did he know about Snow's plan to eliminate him and Katniss through Finnick and you?
Did he know anything at all?
Or was he simply being nice?
But before you could coherent an answer, he softly added, "You look beautiful, by the way."
You were taken aback by his words, and given by the sheepish look on his face, it showed. But, before you could thank him, Finnick's frame unexpectedly appeared next to you, and, given by the expression on his face, he was not content.
"Peeta." Finnick greeted dryly.
"Finnick." Peeta returned nonchalantly, before offering you another smile and retracing his steps back to his carriage, where Katniss waited.
"What did he want?" Finnick asked suddenly, once Peeta was out of your line of vision.
"He asked about the old mermaid tales from back home." You explained, trying to ignore the evident brittleness in his voice.
"Oh, yeah?" Finnick scoffed, and you noticed a visible tick in his jaw when you looked up to meet his gaze. "Then why are you blushing?"
You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words quickly froze on the tip of your tongue when you felt the heat in your face.
"Tributes, you may now board your carriages."
"Didn't know lover boy made you nervous." Finnick taunted, examining your face very carefully as if he almost wanted to catch every single expression that flitted across your features in that minute.
"He doesn't." You argued back, but your words were merely just words to Finnick. And he remained awfully quiet when you eventually climbed inside the carriage and went on with the show.
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The elevator ride to the fifth floor of the training center was painfully awkward. After the tribute parade had ended, you were instructed to go back to your floor to rest for the night. What you didn't expect, however, was to be stuck in the elevator with no other than the lovers from District Twelve, Haymitch Abernathy, and a very pissed Finnick Odair standing right behind you.
The tribute parade was a success on your part. With your attire and Finnick's charm, the crowd went wild in your presence. You'd stolen the show, as your stylist had stated. Hence the reason you supposed Katniss was glaring at you from the far end corner of the elevator.
You knew she was not content. Snow had succeeded in taking the spotlight off the lovers from District Twelve by placing you and Finnick in the games. And, by the funny look on Haymitch's face, you were almost certain he was well aware of what was happening.
"Nice job out there, kids." Haymitch congratulated, breaking the straining silence in the elevator. You threw him a faint smile over your shoulder but didn't reply, afraid that you might just ruin the fleeting moment of peace.
Until Finnick decided to open his mouth.
"Thanks," Finnick replied, but you were quick to register the general air of boredom in his tone. "I found your presence quite heartwarming, considering the obvious."
"What's the obvious?" Peeta suddenly challenged.
"He doesn't mean anything — " You began, stretching your hand back to grab Finnick's arm in silent indication for him to shut up.
" — You know what's the obvious." Finnick continued, ignoring your gesture.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Guys, let's just calm down, okay?" Haymich interjected, raising his hands in defeat. "It's been a long day for everyone, maybe it would be better to cool down and leave it at that, alright?"
You agreed and, unconsciously, turned to look at Peeta, hoping to see a much calmer demeanor on him. But, to your surprise, he was already looking at you — examining you, as if he almost wanted to piece something together. You blinked, caught off guard, before snapping your eyes to the side.
Sheepishly.
Finnick scoffed behind you.
"Whatever you say," Finnick responded as the elevator's door parted. You made to take a step forward and exit the insufferable elevator quickly, but your muscles faltered when Finnick placed a hand behind your back as he blurted out. "Wanna join me in the shower?"
You almost stumbled forward when you heard the words roll out of Finnick's mouth. He'd done it on purpose for Peeta to hear, you were certain, but it didn't make the matter any less flustering. And you silently glared at him, trying to stifle the flush that tinged the skin of your cheeks as you made your way out the elevator.
But Finnick only smirked, dimples creasing the side of his cheeks as he followed behind.
At least, he'd made you flush harder than Peeta.
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"You're a child."
"Because I embarrassed you in front of lover boy?" Finnick quipped once you'd both stepped inside your shared floor in the building. Your mouth fell almost agape at his accusation — you looked at him incredibly. Because you couldn't believe him, of all people, could even possibly question the love you'd for him.
After everything you'd both been through. After everything you’d planned on sacrificing for him. It was infuriating, it made your blood boil and you couldn't help, but clench your jaw tightly. "Would you stop that?"
"It was just an observation," He argued, dismissing the frosty look you threw at him. "It's not my fault you can't be discreet."
You scoffed. "You're crazy."
"Am I?" Finnick questioned, tilting his head to look at you squarely in the face. You were standing a few feet from each other, inhaling the suffocating tension that lingered inside the room. "Because I could've sworn you look at Peeta strangely in the same way you look at me."
You wanted to open your mouth and argue against his stupid point. Highlighting that it was almost impossible for you to look at anyone else in the same loving way you looked at him. That no one could ever compare to Finnick, that your love for him was not something finite — but rather eternal, something that was necessary for you to survive; like air to your lungs.
But you didn't none of that.
The anger that retaliated in the pit of your stomach made you bite back your tongue. For some reason, you didn't feel like fueling his enormous ego. So, instead, you crossed your arms over your chest and lowly spat, "Well, you did break up with me."
That made his jaw tick.
"Last time I checked," You added, taking a few deliberate steps towards his frame. "I can look at whoever I want in whatever way I damn want. So, sleep with that in mind, Finnick."
You made to walk away, but his fingers latched onto your wrist before you could even take another step forward. And, within a blink of an eye, your back was pressed against the nearest wall, and your arms were pinned to your sides.
"You're a liar." Finnick expressed, holding you in place as his lips parted to expose his perfect teeth. "A terrible one, actually.”
"Am I?" You challenged, lifting your head to meet his gaze evenly. He was right, of course, you were a terrible liar, but you didn't feel like losing this fight without pushing down his bottoms.
"I can bet on it."
"Get over yourself."
"You're so pretty when you talk back." Finnick grinned, leaning forward until the tip of his nose was brushing against yours. You swallowed hard at the short proximity between your faces, his breath pressed against your flushed skin shamelessly; hot and unapologetic. He took a moment to take you in, to scrutinize you whole — from head to toes, until you practically felt naked under his gaze. "So pretty..."
Your breath stilled in your throat when his hands traveled down to your hips, slowly anchoring themselves on your skin. You opened your mouth to protest, but your words died down when he brushed his lips over yours — very faintly. Parting his mouth just enough so he could taste the shaky breaths rushing out your lungs.
"Join me in the shower." He suddenly repeated.
Your head got love-struck as you tried to coherent an answer. His lips were tempting, the grip on your hips felt worshiping, and the desperate crack in his voice sounded almost like an altar. You should've said no, pushed him away, and walked away. You should've ignored the addicting feeling that sank in your stomach, the adrenaline that pumped in your blood, and the heat between your legs.
But you, somehow, couldn't.
So, you ended up joining Finnick in the shower.
And you don't remember exactly how you got there or how you got undressed. But you remember being pressed against the wall as his hand gripped the back of your thigh and hooked your leg around his waist. As the water cascaded down your naked bodies and washed away the moans that ricocheted off the walls of the room.
You remember his hips rolling against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimpered his name. And, it was at that moment, when you belatedly realized something. It didn't matter how much he pushed you away or how badly you wanted to forget about him — you would always run back to each other.
Whether you like to admit it or not.
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To say you were confused the next day was an understatement. You were trapped, swallowed whole by an enigma that felt far from being elucidated. You thought something had finally knitted together after sleeping with Finnick, but — to your disbelief, it wasn't necessarily the case.
You woke up alone that morning to Mags shaking you awake for breakfast. And, after you'd blinked the bleariness away, you subconsciously turned to Finnick's side; only to find it empty and cold. You'd asked Magd about him, but she was as perplexed as you were and you decided not to push the matter. But, it wasn't until you were beckoned to the training center that evening that you eventually saw him.
He was chatting with Katniss across the room.
You watched him silently as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. You supposed he was trying to get something out of her — a secret, perhaps, or anything that could benefit you both. But there was just something about the way that he boyishly smiled at her that made you tense.
So, you decided to look away.
You'd been specifically instructed to search for allies by Mags. Given the circumstances and the obvious disadvantages at hand, your chances of survival were higher if you stuck with a few of the tributes for a few days inside the arena.
You hated the idea, but you decided not to argue against her indications. So, you scanned the different stations in the training center and paid close attention to the tributes inside the room. You weren't overwhelmed by your choices, except for maybe Johanna, whom you had a friendship with prior to the games and were more than sure would be your ally, but you supposed you'd to start somewhere else too.
So, you decided to walk over to the knot-tying station. You were good with knots, after growing up in District Four, you'd learn to make fishing nets and other traps commonly used in the area. And you were so deep in thought, forming loops at the end of ropes when someone approached you from behind.
"Hi." Peeta smiled, establishing a comfortable distance between you.
"Hi." You returned, a little quiet when you turned to face him.
"You look like you could use a friend." He expressed, walking over to the knot-tying station to accommodate himself next to you. He seemed rather clueless when he took a rope in his hand and you couldn't help, but feel a little bad for him. So, despite your better judgment, you leaned a little closer to guide him.
"We're not friends." You reminded him, before taking his hand and guiding his fingers around the ropes, until he was crossing two and forming a decent half-knot. "There."
"That's not what I remember." He argued, before examining the knot quietly with a smile.
"What?" You asked, completely confused.
"I remember, you know?" He elaborated, and your shoulders slumped in realization. "The night at the Capitol, when Snow threw that ridiculous party in our honor to celebrate our victory. I remember you, standing there alone in the corner of the room. You were dressed in the prettiest shade of orange I've ever seen before and I remember thinking, 'How could a girl like her be possibly alone tonight' because you were like a beam of light across the room."
"Peeta..." You began, as your chest tightened with his words, but he dismissed you.
"But then you came back from the mansion somewhere after midnight. After you'd been gone for what felt like hours — and you were crying, face damped with tears that you’d tried so hard to clean as Finnick trailed behind you. But you looked like you wanted to hide, so, I asked you to dance and you took my hand without hesitation."
You faltered at his words, remembering the scene vividly. It’d happened after you’d discovered Finnick with another woman; before you’d even known that he was forced into prostitution by President Snow. When you’d thought that he’d betrayed you just for fun and Peeta’s arms had seemed like the safest shelter. When you’d dance with him for the rest of the night and he’d rubbed your back in silent comfort when you shook from anger.
When he’d the best thing at the party.
"I remember," Peeta repeated, examining your features very carefully as if he almost wanted to elucidate something in his head. “So, yeah, I think it's safe to say we're friends, (Y/N)."
You opened your mouth to say something, but the words never managed to escape your mouth. And, when you’d finally coherent something, Peeta’s face hardened as he looked past your shoulder at something — someone. “Just think about it.” He offered, before smiling at you and tracing his steps back to Katniss.
You didn't need to be a genius to know Finnick was standing right behind you. If looks could have killed, you’d been three feet underground. But, in that moment, despite you knowing better — you couldn't take your eyes off Peeta Mellark.
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(A/N)
So, Finnick Odair x reader x Peeta Mellark…maybe? I’ll love to read your thoughts on it, comments are very much appreciated in this blog.
@serrendiipty @avoxrising @queerqueenlynn @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @stayc-a-I-m @chaoticcoffeequeen @wonderland2425 @leilani788 @nexxus13 @whatsupb18 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @syd649 @flavorofsalt @wisewidowweasley-blog @meikoo @mozz-are-lla @nomorespahgetti @aestheticOcherryblossom
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sissylittlefeather · 11 months ago
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It Feels So Right (how can it be wrong?): Part 1
A/N: a new 3-part mini-series that was supposed to be a one-shot but got too long 😂. This is gonna be a fun one. I hate to give too much away up here, but just know we've got Austin filming Elvis, ghost Elvis, and you...
Shoutout to my beloved @ccab for hatching this one with me one late night. I love you, bestie.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! This is gonna stay dirty. Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Word count: ~3.2k
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Honestly, you're a glorified assistant. Your job has a technical title, but you spend most of your time getting coffee and running errands for anyone on set who asks you. It's very rarely the actors. Usually, you're at the whim of everyone behind the cameras. You've been graduated from college for five years and you're just waiting for your shot in the film industry. In a lot of ways, you're blessed just to be on the set of this movie, so you swallow your pride and fetch lattes for every grip and sound guy that hollers for one.
Admittedly, you don't know as much about it as you probably should, but watching the filming has you convinced this Austin Butler will be up for an Oscar. You know Elvis and this guy has him nailed. You've seen footage of him a thousand times and Austin's performance seems to line up perfectly.
What you don't know, what no one but Austin knows, is Elvis is there. He stands and watches, not far from you actually, and in crucial moments, he takes over. Usually, he doesn't leave the sanctuary of Graceland, but when he heard about this movie, he knew it was an opportunity. And when he saw Austin and his dedication to the role, he knew that he'd be open enough for him to step in when he wanted. The first time he tried it, he shifted from one foot to the other for a few seconds and jumped, not knowing exactly what would happen. He opened his eyes and looked at his hands. They were close, similar long fingers, but not quite right. His body was thinner, more cut, and his face felt different. He called for a break and made his way to a place with a mirror. When he cautiously chanced a glance, he was shocked to see Austin's face looking back at him. It worked. He knew possession was possible, he was a ghost after all, but he'd never tried it before this. After the scene was finished, he decided the experience was so satisfying, he'd try it again. So he did. Over and over again throughout the filming process Austin would wake up with no memory of doing certain scenes. He figured out quickly what was happening and didn't seem to mind, so when he turned on set and saw Elvis, he wasn't even alarmed. Elvis had been surprised to be seen after all these years, but it didn't take the two long to strike up a friendship.
By the time Elvis noticed you, he'd been talking to Austin and possessing him regularly for weeks.
You come back from your morning coffee run and set the tray on a table.
"Coffee's here, guys!" You holler to everyone whose order you diligently fetched. For some reason, this time, you catch Elvis's attention. He watches, amused, as you sarcastically deliver all the coffees.
"Who is she?" He whispers to Austin.
"I'm not sure. I think her name is y/n. She gets coffee for the behind-camera guys." Austin answers nonchalantly.
"Have you actually looked at her?"
"I'm way ahead of you, man."
"You asked her out?"
"Not yet, but-"
"What are you waiting for?!" Austin looks at Elvis exasperated.
"I've been a bit busy."
"Can I?"
"Can you what?"
"Take her out." Austin laughs quietly.
"I don't know. Can you?" Elvis sighs.
"Can I use your body, I mean?"
"To go on a date? With a living girl? I'm not sure that's a reasonable plan." Elvis nods, defeated, and Austin walks back out on set to continue filming.
But Elvis can't stop watching you. He hovers around you, longing to be seen. You have an undeniable grace that has him damn-near spellbound. Austin pretends not to notice Elvis's preoccupation with you. He has plans to ask you out himself, eventually.
But Elvis gets tired of waiting. There's not too much left to film and he doesn't want to miss his chance. So one day, he jumps into Austin to film a scene during the '68 Special and just... doesn't leave. Instead, he swallows his nervousness and walks up to you at the end of the day.
"Hi. I'm... Austin." He holds a hand out for you to shake.
"Oh, gosh, I know, I'm y/n." You can't believe one of the actors knows you exist, much less is talking to you. And it's Austin Butler in black leather.
"I've been watching you. And I- okay that sounds creepy. You're just very pretty and I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to go out with me? Tonight?"
"Oh wow... tonight?" You have a bed with your name on it and a pizza you plan to order, but this is Austin Butler and he's asking you out.
"Yeah..." Elvis isn't going to take the chance that Austin might refuse to let him take you out.
"Sure? I mean. Yes. I'd love to go out with you." A warm smile spreads across Austin's face and you can't believe how relieved he seems. Truly, it's Elvis, but you don't know that.
"Okay! Great! Can I pick you up in a couple hours?" Elvis isn't sure how he'll stay in Austin for this long, but he's going to try his best.
You nod and give Austin your address. Then, you make your way home completely in awe of the fact that you have a date with Austin Butler tonight.
******
Later that night, there's a knock on your door and you put the last minute touches on your makeup and walk to it to open it. When you do, you're a little shocked to find Austin with his hair fixed like Elvis, in a suit with the shirt unbuttoned half way down his chest and a thick gold cross sitting on his sternum. For some reason, this outfit doesn't feel like him. And it's not; it's 100% Elvis, but you have no way of knowing that.
"You ready, doll?" Why does he even sound like Elvis?
"Yeah, lemme just grab my purse."
You spend the rest of the evening on one of the best first dates you've ever experienced. Conversation comes easily to both of you, and you think it's unbelievably endearing that he takes you to a diner, and a movie, and a roller skating rink.
You've never been good at roller skating, so you spend most of the time hanging on him and trying to keep your balance.
Elvis is in heaven. He hasn't had this much fun in almost 5 decades. And the feeling of your hands on his skin and your body pressed up against his, even if it's not exactly his, is something he's desperately missed. When it's time to take you home, he's dying to take you inside and feel more of you on him, but he doesn't want to push you or take advantage of you in any way. Instead, he walks you to the door and stands with you awkwardly under the awning of your apartment complex.
"This was really fun." You want to ask him inside, but you're not sure if that would be too slutty. Still, he's a movie star, he has to be used to that. Right?
"Yeah, it was." You notice his eyes flick down to your lips, so you turn your face up to signal that he can kiss you. Elvis gets suddenly nervous. He hasn't kissed anyone in a very long time. After a few seconds, you realize he's not going to kiss you, so you step back.
"Oh... I'm sorry..." Elvis wants to kick himself for missing the window.
"For what, doll?"
"Nothing, I just thought... it's nothing." He takes a deep breath and remembers who he is. Then, he reaches out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you into him. He crashes his lips into yours and kisses you deeply. It's weird to kiss with someone else's mouth, but it doesn't take him long to figure it out.
You revel in the fact that Austin Butler is kissing you. You.
After you make out on the porch for a good fifteen minutes, you pull back from the kiss and look up into his eyes.
"Do you... wanna come in...?"
"Can I?" Elvis is shocked that you'd ask that so soon. Then, he remembers that it's not 1956 anymore. 1969 happened... he was there... and women are different now.
"Yeah... if you want to..." You start to get nervous that maybe you've made him uncomfortable. "You don't have to-"
"Yes. Please. I'd like that." You nod and smile and turn to open the door. He swallows deeply as you lead him into your apartment. It's been a long time since he's kissed someone, but it's been even longer since he did this. And kissing is easier to do well without practice.
You turn to him and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom. Is it possible that Austin is shy? He seems a little nervous to be headed that way with you.
"Do you not want to do this?" You stand facing each other next to the bed and look up into his eyes as he nods fervently.
"I do. I really do. I just... haven't... in a while..."
"Oh. Well, that's okay." Elvis smiles with Austin's face. He reaches out and fiddles with your shirt on your shoulder. Then, he moves his hand up to your cheek and runs his thumb over your lips.
"I just never thought this would be possible."
"What do you mean?" Elvis's heart jumps.
"Oh, umm, just, I've been watching you for a long time. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me." You smile and Elvis relaxes. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to yours again. He's surprised by how easy it is to fall back into a rhythm with you as the kissing ramps up and his hands, Austin's hands, begin to roam over your body. Without thinking, he slides them up under your shirt, dragging them across your back. He wants to lift your shirt and pull it off, but again, he's not sure just how far you're willing to go. Seemingly reading his mind, you remove your shirt for him.
You're shocked at how shy Austin is. You assumed he'd take the lead, but he seems reluctant even to take your shirt off. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and it falls to the ground. Your fingers go to the buttons and you take his shirt off too.
"Wow..." It comes out of you as a whisper while you run your fingertips over Austin's rippling abdominal muscles. Elvis looks down at himself and flexes his stomach as you touch him. This is different, but seeing the way you look at him, he's not exactly complaining. Bodies like this weren't common in his day, but he's thankful for Austin's dedication to diet and exercise in this moment. Something about it boosts his confidence and he reaches behind your back to remove your bra, but his fingers fumble. He peeks over your shoulder and eventually figures it out, pulling your bra forward off of you and dropping it to the floor. His hands slide to your breasts hungrily and he realizes how much he's missed the softness of a woman's skin against him. He pulls you in close and his kisses reach a fever pitch as he begins to move his mouth down your body. You revel in the sensation of his tongue on your nipple, throwing your head back in pleasure.
He turns you and lays you down on the bed, scooting you backwards and crawling on top of you. You arch your back as he kisses your stomach gently, finally landing at the place between your bellybutton and the top of your skirt. He hooks his fingers under your waistline and looks up at you, blue eyes wide with lust.
"Can I?"
"Yes. Please." He smiles softly and slides your skirt down your legs, removing your shoes at the same time.
"Mmmm." He groans as he holds one of your feet in his hand and kisses your ankle. You have beautiful feet and this is just another thing Elvis has missed about being with a woman. He feels his erection throbbing where it presses against the fabric of his pants. This creates a new sense of urgency in him and he hooks your panties with one finger between your legs and drags them off, quickly tossing them to the side. Now you're completely naked and he just stares at you for a minute. He was right to take this chance. You're worth it.
"What?"
"Nothing. You're just incredibly beautiful. I don't think I've ever wanted a woman this badly." You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your core. He's unbelievable and if he's not careful, he'll have you head over heels for him. You sit up and begin to unbutton his pants, but he stops you. "This first, honey. Come here." He lays with his head on your pillow and pulls you to him, situating your hips above his face. He puts both hands on your ass and pulls your clit to his lips.
"Oh, fuck!" You grab the headboard while he goes to work licking and sucking you like his life depends on it. His tongue makes tantalizing circles on your sensitive button and you want to scream it feels so good. Elvis can tell by your reaction that he hasn't lost his touch, even if he is technically using someone else's mouth to do it. You look down at Austin with his face buried in your pussy, eyes closed like he's truly enjoying what he's doing. He slides first one and then two fingers into you and pumps them in and out while his tongue moves on you fervently.
"Oh, God, Austin, I'm gonna cum!" For a second, he forgets that he's Austin and his eyes pop open, but he adjusts quickly as your orgasm slams into you and your walls pulse around his fingers. Electricity explodes in your core and shoots lightning bolts to your fingertips in exquisite waves. When you finally come back down, you fall sideways off of him and lay on the bed. He wipes his face with his hand and sits up next to you.
"How was that, doll?"
"Oh. My. God." That's all you can get out and he smiles widely. He's still got it.
He stands up next to the bed, kicks off his shoes, and drops his pants and underwear. This is the first time he's looked down at himself and seen Austin's cock. Elvis is a little in shock. Not only is it huge, it's circumcised. He hopes it'll work the same way. Before he has too much more time to think about it, though, he looks up and you're on your knees in front of him.
You hold the base of him with one hand, put the other on his ass, and lick a circle around the tip.
"Fuck, y/n." Yep, it works the same way.
You slide as much of him as you can stand into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat. His head falls back and his mouth opens as you continue to work on him, bouncing and sucking and running your tongue along his shaft. Elvis is in heaven with your mouth around him and as much as he never wants it to stop, he wants to feel the rest of you too. Still, he reaches down and takes a handful of your hair as you let him thrust gently into your mouth for a bit. Then, he stops and stands you up, looking down into your eyes.
"Can I make love to you?" Your heart skips. No one has ever asked you that before.
"Yes. Yes, please." You lay back down on the bed together and he lines himself up with your entrance. His heart is pounding in anticipation. It's been so long.
He begins to push into you slowly, letting you stretch to accommodate his size. You moan softly as the sensation almost overwhelms you. When he's fully filling you, he pulls back slowly and thrusts forward again, groaning at the feeling of your tightness around him. He picks up a steady pace of fucking into you and you wrap your legs around his waist. Elvis is impressed with Austin's body and his ability to thrust without getting tired. It's been a very long time since he had that kind of youthful vitality.
"Yes, yes, yes!" You cry out breathlessly as he pounds you.
"God, y/n, it's so good." He moans again and kisses you deeply, feeling his orgasm begin to build in his hips. You're teetering just on the edge too, breasts bouncing with his rhythm. His cock is perfect to hit just the right spot inside you as he drives into you.
You feel him tense up as he slams into you one last time, throwing you over the edge into oblivion as well. You throb around him as he shoots you full of his warmth and shudders his hips into you. He relaxes and sets his head on your shoulder, both of you sweating and breathing heavily. After a few seconds, he slides out of you and lays next to you on the bed.
He's dying to tell you that he's Elvis and not Austin. He wants you to know that it's him. But he's afraid that would freak you out too much, so he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he turns to look at you and you look back into Austin's face.
"That was amazing." You say, smiling. He smiles in return.
"It really was."
"Do you wanna... stay...?" You feel like you should know better than to ask, but you do anyway. Elvis knows he can't hold onto Austin when he sleeps, though. He'd be shocked to wake up here with you with no memory of how he got here.
"I wish I could, doll, but I can't. I'd love to do this again sometime, though."
"Yeah?" He rolls over and runs his fingertips down the side of your face.
"Yes. I really would." He leans in and kisses your lips softly. Then, he sighs deeply and rolls over, getting out of bed and putting his clothes on. It doesn't seem like he wants to leave, but he does anyway. He kisses you at the door again, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
"I'll see you soon, doll." You think to yourself that you'll see him tomorrow at work, but you don't say that part out loud. He walks through the door and you close it softly behind him.
He stays in Austin just long enough to get him home and in bed, laying there for a bit thinking about the encounter he just had with you. Elvis hasn't had a better day in over 50 years. Finally, his eyes close and Elvis pulls himself out, letting Austin sleep.
He's nervous about how he'll react when he finds out Elvis used his body to go out with you, but what's done is done. And he has every intention of begging to let it happen again.
******
Until part 2. Thoughts?
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Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax
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witchezandwonderz · 3 months ago
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In the Shadows of Her Heart
Pairing: Aethelstan x Reader
Word Count: 948
Summary: After a drunken night, you admit to having feelings for someone after being questioned. When Aethelstan hears that the woman he loves might have eyes for another, he’s compelled to follow her home, determined to uncover the truth.
A/N- Helloooooo, I am a new page and love writing, especially about Aethelstan! However, I would love to write for other characters also. My requests are open, so if you have anything specific you would like me to write, please just ask! :)
If you enjoy my writing please could you like or reblog- this will help me find new accounts and mutuals to follow and enjoy others work. Thank you <3
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Under the dim glow of a half-hidden moon, Aethelstan moved carefully along the worn path to your modest home, his cloak pulled tight against the chill, his every breath heavy with a question he feared to answer. Yet he had to know the truth, even if it broke his heart. Never had he imagined he would be creeping through the night on your account, feeling embarrassed, anxious, jealous—and more than a little afraid of being caught.
You had known Aethelstan for some years now. You rarely stayed in one place long enough to form deep ties, yet here in Rumcofa, you lingered, drawn by something that felt like belonging. While you had grown close to Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric, Aethelstan was different. He held a quiet allure that took your breath away, though you did not realise how much he felt the same for you.
That evening, the hours had passed in the alehouse with laughter, drinking, and jests. As usual, you and Aethelstan found yourselves absorbed in your own quiet conversation, only joining the others when their voices drew you back. But then Sihtric, emboldened by drink, cast a bold question that changed the course of the night.
"So, Y/N, a question we have all pondered." He grinned, pausing with a mischievous glance at Finan before continuing. "When will you find yourself a man, then? Have you already? Is there someone?"
His tone was light, yet the question took you off guard, and a strange warmth rose to your cheeks. You felt Aethelstan’s gaze, though he looked away when you met his eyes.
Shall I confess that I care for Aethelstan? No—not here.
Shall I claim I’ve already found another? But would that end my chances with him… or open them?
The thoughts tumbled through your mind until, finally, you replied, "Sihtric, if you must know, perhaps there is someone I’ve had my eye on." With a playful wink, you finished your drink and took your leave. Aethelstan’s farewell felt strange, distant, though you brushed it off, thinking it only the wine.
As soon as you left, Finan nudged Aethelstan and joked, "Bad news for you, my friend. Close, but not close enough." Aethelstan’s face grew dark, and Finan’s laughter faded. "I meant no harm," he added quickly, but Aethelstan had already risen, cloak in hand, and left.
Troubled by wine and jealousy, his mind spun wild with every possibility. He had to know whom you’d meant, whom you truly cared for. And so, without much thought, he followed you home, his plan half-formed: he would hide nearby, wait, and see if another came to join you.
So it was that he sat below your window an hour later, his thoughts hazy yet transfixed by the sight of you inside, weaving your hair into a loose braid. You hummed softly to yourself, bare feet rubbing the furs on your bed for warmth, oblivious to his watchful gaze. Aethelstan was spellbound, his heart stirred by this quiet, unguarded glimpse of you.
This is madness, he thought, his head clearing as he realized the foolishness of his plan. He moved to leave, but as he shifted, a twig snapped underfoot, louder than thunder in the night’s silence. The sound startled you, and in an instant, you had seized your sword and darted to the window.
"Who’s there?" you called sharply.
To your utter surprise, Aethelstan’s face appeared from the shadows, wide-eyed and sheepish, like a child caught in mischief. Your brow furrowed as you lowered your sword. "Aethelstan? Why are you crouching outside my window?"
Struggling to find his words, he stammered until you held up a hand. "Enough—come inside."
He followed you in, every step burdened with self-doubt as his mind raced with the many reasons he should have turned back. Yet you, already sensing his purpose, hid your smile as you waited for him to speak first. He entered awkwardly, standing like a boy unsure of his welcome. You gestured to the bed beside you, and he sat, fidgeting as you took his cold hands in yours.
"You must be freezing," you said gently, keeping your gaze averted. When you looked up at last, your eyes held a trace of amusement. "Now, Aethelstan, will you tell me what brings you here?"
Taking a breath, he blurted out, "This man you spoke of... Is he a Saxon?" His voice shook as he repeated the question, his eyes searching yours.
A soft laugh escaped you. "He hardly knows himself," you replied, heat rising to your cheeks.
Aethelstan’s expression shifted, and he pulled his hands from yours. “It seems he has your affections well enough; you can scarcely speak of him without blushing.” Rising, he turned as if to leave. "I should go."
"Did you come all this way just to ask me that?" you called softly. He nodded, his face now tinged with colour.
Enough, you thought.
"Aethelstan," you said, your voice low, "I was speaking of you."
You lowered your gaze, heart pounding in the silence until you sensed him step closer. Looking up, you found him only inches away.
"You spoke of me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, a small smile breaking through his astonishment.
"I did." Your voice was steady, though your heart was not.
Relief softened his expression as his hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. The look between you held steady, an unspoken pull neither could resist. He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours, soft and tentative, as though savoring a long-awaited answer. His hands found your face, drawing you closer as though this kiss might unlock every unspoken feeling held between you.
When he pulled back, he looked at you with a small, almost bashful laugh. “So... I haven’t come too late?”
With a smile, you replied, “No—I’ve been waiting for you.”
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rainbowmoonstonestories · 1 year ago
Text
Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 3
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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."
Divider by firefly-graphics
Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️
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Note: This chapter took me some time because I wanted it to be just right, being focused on the forming bond between Sanji and the Reader before the next part. I do not plan to make a long story out of this, but the chapters might all be quite big and detailed.
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Over the next hour, you wrestled with your pounding heart, striving to push away the notion of remaining on the Baratie ship till the next day. Sanji, with an air of casualness, mentioned that a room was already set and ready for your use, extending the offer without a hint of complication.
When Sanji inquired if you wished for him to accompany you, you swiftly declined, asserting that you weren't weary enough to call it a night yet. Instead, you proposed to enjoy a rejuvenating drink at the bar, an idea to which Sanji cheerfully concurred, flashing one of his charming (and irresistible) smiles.
The sky was captivating, filled with infinite stars that seemed too numerous to count. The evening air was cool against your skin, but there was a noticeable uptick in humidity. The lounge area inside the fish's mouth was near deserted, with only a handful of patrons left, lost in their intoxication and slumped over the bar counter.
Sanji escorted you to the round grouping of couches situated against the mouth of the ship, skillfully uncorking a bottle of blueberry-lemonade rum. You had never considered yourself much of a drinker, rarely finding pleasure in the taste of alcohol and turning to it only when your emotions plunged into a pit of despair. However, given the heightened stress you had endured that night and your present state of restlessness, you felt that a touch of rum was more than justified.
You found comfort in the enveloping silence as you both settled on the couch, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other. The alcohol successfully soothed your mind and, even though your heart continued to flutter in response to his aroma permeating your senses, you felt more serene and less tense.
You looked up, gently pressing your lips against the glass, and found yourself spellbound by the immense, dark blue spectacle stretching out before your eyes.
"This feels good," you commented aloud. "I can't recall the last time I took a moment for myself.”
Sanji gazed at you, his smile never fading. "A beautiful woman like you should be pampered all day.”
With your head nestled against the back of the couch, you subtly turned your neck to face him. His smile broadened even further in response, and after a fleeting moment of thought, you broke into a tender chuckle. Sanji chimed in, his shoulders easing as he swirled his glass in his hand.
"You certainly have a way with words when it comes to charming a lady, don't you?" you asked playfully.
"And you haven't seen the best of me yet," he replied with a wink.
Raising an eyebrow, you moved to the side, supporting yourself with your elbow on the couch. "A man of great confidence, I see.”
He snickered, adjusting his position and tilting his head slightly. "That marine was clueless about the treasure he possessed," he remarked.
You couldn't keep track of the number of times your heart had skipped a beat in his presence.
Casting your eyes downward, a blush of embarrassment mixed with appreciation tinged your cheeks. "I'm no treasure, Sanji. I'm merely a woman who's been treated like a puppet for far too long. And I let that happen without putting up any fight," you confessed.
"I wouldn't call your actions tonight 'any fight',” he declared.
You tightened your lips together. "It certainly took me quite a while, didn't it?”
"I'm not in a position to judge. And I would never do that to you.”
Your eyes shimmered, a warmth akin to molten honey spread throughout your chest, and a swarm of butterflies fluttered in your belly.
"Honestly, the things you say... they might be the kindest words I’ve ever heard.”
His expression mellowed, transforming into one of sorrow. "How could anyone be cruel to someone like you?”
"You should ask that to my family.”
"I witnessed enough two weeks ago.”
"Right. My father put on quite a show, didn't he?”
"He wasn’t as bad as your fiancé.”
You shuddered. "I really detest that word. I mean, he wasn't exactly my fiancé. Not in my eyes.”
"Not in mine either.”
At that, you laughed once more, and unconsciously, you found yourself inching even closer to the cook.
"Thank you for what you did. Seeing him getting a good kick in the butt for once was absolutely priceless.”
Sanji took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and stretching his arm out to set the half-drunk glass on the table in front of the couch. “I can’t deny that I enjoyed it.”
"Oh, you were certainly invested in it. Your moves were rather impressive.”
He allowed himself to sink back onto the softness of the seat, staring at his hands as he began to absentmindedly fiddle with his ring.
"I couldn't bear to watch him hit and threaten you as he did," he said, his jaw tightening at the memory.
You responded with a sincere smile. "He was known for having an anger problem, but... well.”
Sanji's attention moved to your cheek, and you had to exert control over your reactions as he gently swept his thumb across your skin to inspect it.
"Is it causing pain?”
As his finger traced the irritated spot, all you felt was a comforting caress.
“No, it isn’t.”
"The swelling has gone down.”
"Thankfully you happened to have that salmon available.”
It was quite astonishing to see how both of you couldn't contain your laughter while conversing with each other. When he drew back, the absence of his touch left you feeling instantly hollow. Something in his mouth reflected the soft glow of the lanterns, causing you to notice he might have a piercing situated just beneath his tongue.
When you noticed that you were zoning out as your thoughts momentarily derailed, you cleared your throat and shifted your focus back to the stars. Sanji stayed quiet, a satisfied look on his face as he turned his gaze skyward. From his pocket, he retrieved a cigarette and a lighter, sparking it into life and savoring the nicotine-filled inhalation. As he breathed out, a cloud of smoke ascended, dissipating gradually into the darkened atmosphere.
Remaining there, in silence, with a man you were just getting to know yet felt inexplicably at ease with, you discovered the therapeutic potential of simply sitting in good company. Sanji was chivalrous, respectful, affable, and empathetic. His flirting occasionally teetered on the edge of being excessive, yet his attentions, though most likely extended to the opposite sex in general, didn't bother you in the slightest.
With your drink now fully consumed, your eyelids started to droop. His voice, calling out your name, seemed distant as you found yourself slowly giving in to the lull of sleep right in your current spot.
"Y/N," he gently repeated. "Come on, beautiful, you can’t keep your eyes open.”
"Mh..? What? Oh." After a moment of disorientation, you rubbed your temple and sat up straight, all while he took the glass from your hand, placed it next to his own on the table, and rose to his feet.
When he offered his hand to you, you accepted it, allowing him to aid you in standing up. His closeness made you feel self-aware, especially considering how his lips were now mere inches from your forehead.
"I'll take you to your room.”
You nodded, mirroring his movements as he pivoted and headed towards the entrance. His steps were unhurried and confident, and all you could do was marvel once more at the outline of his broad shoulders and expansive back.
The Baratie was practically empty, and you trailed behind him through the dining hall, along a corridor, and up a flight of wooden stairs. There was an incredibly calming quality to the sounds produced by the ship, as the planks creaked in a gentle rhythm.
Upon arriving at your destination, Sanji pushed open the door and ushered you into a cozy cabin. As he lit the lantern situated on the bedside table, your eyes began to sweep across the room, absorbing the diverse array of objects. The cabin was neat and orderly, with maps, and notes decorating the table positioned beneath the window. You could discern a few cookbooks, an ashtray, and a packet of cigarettes that looked very familiar.
In that moment, it dawned on you that the room he was offering wasn't just a spare one kept for potential guests or new recruits. The cabin had an overwhelming sense of him, exuding an immediate assurance that it was indeed his personal space.
"Wait, Sanji.”
When you pivoted on your heels to face him, you caught the slightly bashful expression on his face. "Apologies, love. The other cabins are currently being used for storage.”
"I see... but-"
"This one is yours for the night."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "What about you?”
"Don't worry about me, I'll manage.”
"Sanji, no," you moved a step closer, gently touching his forearm. "I can't inconvenience you further after everything you've done for me.”
"Nah, you're not an inconvenience at all. Besides, I can't let you sleep on the kitchen floor.”
"I could sleep on the couch outside. It's comfortable enough," you suggested.
"I can't allow you to do that.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but found yourself at a loss for words. His disarming smile made it impossible for you to decline his offer. The orange hue emanating from the lantern cast a spectacular light against his perfect jaw.
"I guess I owe you another one.”
"You don't owe me anything.”
"Yes, I do.”
He chuckled softly under his breath, glancing downward and swallowing subtly in response to the sudden intimacy.
"Good night, Y/N," he said, pulling away from you and reaching for the door handle.
You wished you could have said more, but a lump in your throat held back your words. "Good night, Sanji," was all you could master.
As he stepped out of the cabin, carefully closing the door behind him, you released a long, deep breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.
Another man might have exploited such a situation. You were there, alone with him, nowhere else but in his very own quarters. He had saved you from Christopher's onslaught, cooked a delectable meal for you, and even relinquished his bed for your convenience. Given your insistence on repaying him, there was just one thing he could have requested from you.
Because, as a matter of fact, that's what they all wanted.
Everyone, except for him.
For a fleeting moment, you contemplated whether you should have allowed him to stay.
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Despite your extreme fatigue, sleep seemed elusive. Perhaps it was the knowledge that you were in Sanji's bed, coupled with the realization that he was spending the night elsewhere, stripped of his usual comforts because of you. Alternatively, it might have been the fear of what awaited you upon your return home, grappling with the reality that, sooner or later, you would have to confront the repercussions of your defiance.
When you awoke, dawn had already bathed the ship in its golden hues. The makeup around your eyes felt uncomfortably dry, and you were eager to shed your current attire in favor of something more fitting. With a reluctant push, you forced yourself to sit up, attempting to tame your bed hair with your fingers and smooth out the creases in your dress. You voiced a grunt of disapproval, regarding the heels positioned in front of the bed with a look of distaste.
You abandoned the comfort of the mattress and traversed the lukewarm floor barefoot, your vision trained on the ocean beyond as you squinted against the intense sunlight. Not far away, you noticed a small ship that was immediately recognizable, and a smile played on your lips as you watched it sail closer to the Baratie. Mari and the others had arrived.
Immediately, you ensured the bed was neatly made, quickly slipped into your shoes, and hurried towards the door. Carefully avoiding any missteps, you descended the staircase, retracing your path from the previous night in reverse. You entered the serene dining hall, with the sounds of chopping and boiling echoing from the kitchen. Sanji was notably absent, and although seeing his face first thing in the morning would have been pleasant, the discomfort of wearing the same clothes from the previous day was too bothersome to disregard.
As you stepped outside, the sea-salted air filled your lungs. A shroud of morning fog masked the horizon, but the outline of your friends' ship, now almost docked, remained visible.
When the ship came to a standstill, Mari surfaced from the lower deck, her face lighting up. She agilely hopped down, dashing towards you with her arms outstretched. You had to brace yourself as she crashed into you, wrapping your shoulders in a firm embrace.
"Y/N! I'm so incredibly proud of you!”
You laughed in surprise, "Come on, I didn't really do that much.”
"Are you kidding me?" She retorted, "You finally managed to get rid of Nutty after all this time.”
"But it's not over yet.”
"Yes, it is. Because I won't let you get near him ever again.”
With a sigh, a wave of gratitude washed over you for her unfaltering support and protection. Marlo, Rory, and Rubio also made their appearance, waving at you from the bow of the ship.
"I brought you some clothes. I can't stand seeing you in that skimpy dress and those stilettos. How do you even manage to walk?”
You grinned. "You eventually get used to it. But, I admit my feet are really aching now.”
Mari made a sound of disgust, seizing your hand and pulling you aboard their vessel. “Honestly, what would you even do without me?”
“I’d be lost as hell.”
Her determination over the smallest details was both amusing and inspiring. She behaved like a true bodyguard, prepared to confront anything that might obstruct your path.
The moment you set foot onto the main deck, Rubio engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, Rory clapped her hands in celebration of your successful outcome, and Marlo gave you such a hearty pat on the shoulder that it almost sent you teetering to the other side. Damn him for being a muscular giant.
The affection they demonstrated was something you would cherish for the rest of your life.
"I hate to come off as a freeloader, but would you guys mind if I take a quick bath? I feel like all the food they cooked in there has seeped into me.”
"Ah, so you are the source of this delightful steak aroma," Marlo observed, rubbing his stomach in anticipation and punctuating it with a suggestive lick of his lips.
“Screw you.”
As their jubilant cries reverberated through the ship, you maneuvered your way to the wooden tub, shaking your head in amusement.
The area designated for personal hygiene was quite compact, with a modest collection of rugs and towels, meticulously folded and stacked on a stool. While the tub could only accommodate one person at a time, it proved ample for washing away the sea salt and lingering kitchen odors from your skin. As amazing as the Baratie's cooking was, carrying its scent was not part of your agenda.
You let the dress drop onto the floor before unceremoniously tossing it into your personal clothes box. You picked out one of the outfits that Mari had discreetly tucked away in your hidden storage, preparing it and setting it aside for later use. Evidently, Mari had anticipated your needs and had already filled the tub for you with suitably warmed water. None of your friends expressed any complain, giving you the freedom to luxuriate in it for as long as you desired.
And so, you took your time, employing a coarse sponge to scrub away any lingering traces of oil and food that might have resulted from Christopher's tumultuous outburst. The warmth enveloping your body was comforting, and the entire room was now filled with steam.
The moment you slipped into your trousers, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The comfort of casual daily wear far surpassed that of any sophisticated dress and high-heeled shoes. Even your hair boasted a different style now, and the shirt you opted for allowed for better movement. The leather jacket added that touch of edginess you were seeking - a look your family would never wish to see on you.
When you finally converged with your friends in the kitchen cabin, they were astonished at how distinct, yet improved, you looked in your characteristic appearance. Feeling rejuvenated and more comfortable with yourself, you settled into a seat and accepted the cup of coffee they had set aside for you.
Mari didn’t waste any time and immediately inquired about the juicy details of your night at the Baratie, as well as how things with your now ex-fiancé took such a dramatic turn. By the end of your tale, Marlo was laughing so hard that he was brought to tears at the mental picture of Christopher being forcefully kicked by a waiter (not a waiter - a cook, you corrected him), while Rory squealed in excitement. Rubio conveyed his deepest solidarity concerning your immediate refusal, but Mari was staring at you in total disbelief.
"Wait, Y/N. Please tell me you didn't do it,” she said.
"Huh? Didn't do what? You already knew that I rejected him.”
She shook her head. "That's not what I meant.”
"What did you mean, then?”
She scoffed. "Did you seriously spend the night into that cook’s bed… without inviting him to stay with you? For real?”
You raised an eyebrow. "Mari, don't go there.”
"Oh, come on! After all he's done for you, you didn't even give him a kiss? If I were in your place, I would have certainly made a move, straight to his d-”
“Mari!”
A collective bout of laughter erupted once again, and you facepalmed so hard that you nearly struck yourself in the process.
"What's wrong with that? How long has it been since you last hooked up with a decent man?”
You rolled your eyes. "Too long ago to remember. And I don't think it was with anyone decent.”
"She has a point," Marlo chimed in. "He was such a skinny loser."
"Pretty sure that wasn't the reason why I dumped him," you clarified. "Stop thinking like the muscular beast that you are."
He responded with a toothy grin, playfully flaunting the size of his bicep.
"Seriously though, I'm impressed he didn't actually try to sleep with you," Mari persisted. "And from what you've told us about this Sanji, I believe you might have stumbled upon a rare gem this time.”
"Isn't he just toying around, though?" Rory inquired. "He's a gentleman alright, but what if he does this with every attractive lady he comes across?”
"Without even trying to put his hands on her? No, it's clear he took her situation to heart," Mari concluded. "He kicked her fiancé in the butt without hesitation, in his own workplace.”
"Well, either way, all this talk about him just made me want to meet the guy in person," Marlo declared.
"Oh, I agree," Rory interjected.
“Good thing we don't have to wait for that.”
Confused, you turned to Mari again, giving her a questioning look.
"Oh, didn't I tell you? Oopsie.”
Judging by her joyful expression, you realized that she was scheming something behind your back. “Mari. What are you talking about?”
A grin of absolute satisfaction spread across her face. "You see, we managed to book a table for brunch today.”
“…at the Baratie.”
“Yes, at the Baratie. Where else?”
Silence descended upon the room as you blinked a few times. “Wait. That must be a joke. There’s no way you could find a spot so easily.”
Mari proudly flicked her red hair off her shoulder. "Y/N, who do you think you're talking to? You know I have means to get what I want.”
Your jaw dropped in utter disbelief.
"Don't ask her. Not even we know the details," Marlo whispered into your ear, stifling another fit of laughter at your reaction.
Eventually, you let it go, as arguing with someone like Mari was as futile as trying to converse with a wall.
"You guys are insane.”
Rory stood up, darting towards you and wrapping her arms around your neck, pressing her warm cheek against yours. "And you love us this way!”
Indeed, you absolutely wouldn't have them any differently.
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Entering the Baratie was becoming a routine for you. The grandeur of its elegant dining room, with its polished aesthetics and sophisticated ambiance, was now incredibly familiar. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen had become a sensory marker you eagerly anticipated. Even seeing the fishman's face at the entrance had become a delightful and comforting sight.
Brunch time was as bustling as dinner typically was. The number of people flocking to the floating restaurant was astounding, with an influx of ships docking alongside your friends', seemingly materializing out of nowhere. The fact that Mari secured a reservation so quickly was still a shock to you, but you chose to heed Marlo's advice and simply savour the good fortune you had received.
As you were led to your table, your eyes inadvertently drifted to a corner adjacent to the kitchen. The blonde cook was right there, and his mere presence in your peripheral sight was enough to cause your heart to flutter.
Caught in a moment of starstruck awe, you remained rooted to the spot in the middle of the dining room, motionless as your friends continued ahead.
"Y/N, what's the hold-up?" Mari questioned, halting halfway.
Barely shifting your gaze towards her, you raised your hand in acknowledgment. "Sorry, I'll join you in a moment.”
You then turned and walked away, striding purposefully towards Sanji. He appeared to be engrossed in folding napkins and arranging food and drinks on a silver tray, dressed in his chef's uniform and casually flicking his hair away from his face with a slight toss of his head.
It didn't take long for him to notice you. The moment his gaze locked with yours, his face lit up, and the smile you cherished so much spread widely across his lips.
"Hey you," you greeted him, mirroring his joy with equal fervor.
"Hey! I'm surprised to see you're still here. You look... different," he commented, appraising you from head to toe. "Undeniably gorgeous.”
You grinned in response, by now accustomed to his compliments and playful flirtations, but still appreciating every bit of it. "Between you and me, I don't usually like wearing dresses. This is the real me.”
"Honestly, sweetheart, you could even wear a bag and still look beautiful in it.”
You let out a laugh. "Oh, stop it. I wanted to thank you for letting me stay in your room. I hope I didn't inconvenience you to the extent of sleeping somewhere uncomfortable.”
“I managed just fine. And you’re very welcome.”
For an instant, it seemed as though the atmosphere around you had charged with electricity. An unbroken silence descended upon the two of you as your eyes stayed intertwined. There was something extraordinary about Sanji, something more profound than mere attraction towards the opposite sex. You noticed the passion in his mannerisms when he had prepared a meal for you the previous night, and the tangible rage etched on his features when Christopher posed a threat to you. His talks about Zeff and the hurdles he was encountering, the mournful twinkle you spotted in his eyes when he confessed that standing up to the man was a complex ordeal.
Sanji was more than just a good-looking cook playing the role of Prince Charming. The more you observed him, the stronger grew your desire to unravel his enigma.
The booming voice of Mari, beckoning you from the table, abruptly pulled you back to the present moment. As you pivoted, you caught sight of your friends watching you, their faces illuminated with wide grins of satisfaction.
"Are you with them?" Sanji inquired.
"Yes, they're here to pick me up. My friend over there somehow reserved a table without even informing me. I have no idea how she pulled it off.”
Sanji let out a chuckle. "Well, it seems that you're in good hands today.”
"I am. Uhm... I should go join them now. Will we meet again later?”
You didn't want to seem excessively clingy, but the moment you voiced that question, a part of you plummeted into a pit of embarrassment.
Yet, your words only served to widen his smile even more. "Absolutely, sweetheart.”
As you nodded and retreated a step, you were convinced that your cheeks were flaming. You observed him lift the tray and take it to the closest table, all the while you ambled away, caught up in your whimsical thoughts.
The moment you sat down, you immediately sensed four pairs of piercing eyes fixated on you.
"Okay, I have to admit it," Mari started, "That guy is attractive as fuck.”
“He’s definitely a handsome one, good shot Y/N!” Rory exclaimed.
"More handsome than me?" Marlo queried, "Come on, I'm way more appealing than him.”
"Oh, don't be jealous now. Of course, you're the best.”
Marlo wasn't entirely convinced, but he draped a muscular arm around Rory’s shoulder, wearing a smug expression.
"I mean, as a man, I can't exactly be objective about his appearance,” Rubio started, "But he was practically devouring you with his eyes alone.”
You cleared your throat. "Was he really?”
"Honestly, Y/N, how clueless can you get?” Mari groaned. “That cook would be all over you if he could.”
"That's not true.”
"Actually, my dear, she's quite right," Marlo chimed in.
“Guys, seriously! You've barely seen him for two minutes from here. He’s not like that.”
"Yeah, what sets him apart at least, is that he seems to respect your boundaries.”
Rory, Marlo, and Rubio all nodded in unison.
You sighed. "Whatever. Can we change the topic, please?”
"Oh wow, look at how flushed your face is!”
"Awww, how adorable. Our dear Y/N has a crush.”
"Shhh, lower your voices!”
When they burst into another round of snickers, you shook your head, suppressing a smirk that was beginning to form. It was extraordinary how different and comfortable you felt with them, compared to the other times you had found yourself in that very same room. Just the night before, you had been wishing to escape as soon as you arrived, and now, you desired nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with your friends, savoring the most delectable cuisine that could be found in all of East Blue (and perhaps, in the entire world).
If anything, this only solidified that you were perilously close to completely upending your life, and the prospect of returning home invoked the most dreadful sense of fear you could ever experience.
You all ate to such an extent that you felt on the verge of bursting. Rory was almost moved to tears, thrilled by the outstanding cuisine, while Marlo consumed everything he had ordered with astonishing eagerness. Rubio was making a determined effort to relish his dessert, wishing it would never end, while Mari was so delighted with her meal that she would have licked her plate clean if it wasn't considered as such an indiscretion.
Throughout your brunch, Sanji had surfaced at your table, meticulously detailing each dish with commendable sentiment. Rory and Mari, both remarkably beautiful, didn't elude the cook's attention, and he lavished them with a cascade of compliments and charming banter. However, the exchange of smiles and whispered words between you and Sanji seemed to single you out, making you feel distinctively special. At one juncture, he slipped out of the kitchen with a dish he didn't want Zeff to see, placing it before you with a gentle touch on your shoulder as he whispered into your ear. You blushed continuously for ten minutes when your friends began to tease you affectionately about the gesture.
As lunchtime passed and the early afternoon sun began to shift its position, the dining room slowly started to empty. You could hear the music emanating from the bar outside, coupled with the increasing volume of your friends' voices echoing throughout the space. The tranquility of the instance felt entirely dreamlike, a stark contrast to the habitual family turmoil and incessant demands you were accustomed to.
You had been seated there for a few hours, yet, there was not a single moment where you felt an urge to leave the table.
Only when your stomachs were satiated and your meals entirely consumed, did your friends place the necessary quantity of Berries on the silver tray accompanying the bill. You had proposed to reimburse them later with the funds from your private storage, but they remained unyielding in their decision to indulge you.
You were so immersed in your complaint, that Mari's exit from the group escaped your attention. Only upon sensing her missing presence beside you, did you scan the surroundings in an attempt to locate your friend. The instant you did, all color drained from your face.
"Guys...? What is she up to?”
Marlo was already breaking into muted chuckles, while Rory dismissed it nonchalantly with a wave of her hand. Rubio slung an arm around your shoulder as your attention fixated on Mari, who was engaging in a cheerful conversation with none other than Sanji himself, who had emerged from the kitchen to gather the settled bills.
You managed to hear Mari expressing her gratitude aloud before she spun on her heels and returned, and you scarcely registered Sanji's smile aimed in your direction when she did.
"Mari," your voice came out stern and low. "What was that?”
"Relax! I was merely engaging his services for the day.”
"Wait, you did what?”
"Considering it will take us a while to return, I thought we could take advantage of his culinary expertise. Nothing overly extravagant, just a packed dinner for our journey.”
“Oh, you’re brilliant!”
“Indeed, good thinking Mari!”
You rubbed your temple, taking deep breaths to soothe your frayed nerves. Given the amount of food your group consumed, it seemed highly unlikely that any of you would feel sufficiently hungry to partake in dinner by day's end. Mari's move was merely a pretext to invite Sanji aboard their ship, observe him closely and, without a doubt, provide an opportunity for you to spend additional time with him away from his usual environment.
"Did he agree?" You asked her.
“Oh yes.”
Well, shit.
You were torn between feeling grateful, or extremely anxious. The mere notion of having him so near to you and your soul family, without Zeff, Patty, or any other colleague on standby to yank him away, caused your entire face to be flushed with a deep shade of crimson once more.
Yet, deep within, your mind was silently shrieking with exhilaration.
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As you waited for Sanji aboard your friends' ship, your heart was racing so fast that you felt like a teenager on her first date. Even though it wasn't intended to be a private encounter between the two of you, with Mari and the others around, you knew that privacy was not an option anyway.
And yet, the anticipation was killing you.
Upon Sanji's arrival, it came to your attention that he had discarded his chef's uniform, not even opting for his signature black jacket. The sight of his button-down shirt, tightly embracing his upper body, and the visible flex of his lower arm muscles as he lugged kitchen supplies and utensils, only intensified your emotional unrest.
Mari led him to the stove, and without hesitation, he settled in, rolling his sleeves up even further. Rubio, who had recently taken a fond interest in cooking, attempted to glean some useful instructions from the chef. Despite his playful refusal to reveal his culinary secrets, Sanji still provided a few practical pointers that your friend eagerly jotted down.
A smile found its way onto your face as you relaxed your shoulders and comfortably leaned against the dining table. Your smile wasn't particularly intended for Sanji, yet the moment he caught sight of it, he responded with a radiant grin of his own, one that became increasingly endearing to you with each passing moment.
Clearing your throat, you approached him, fully aware of your friends' attentive eyes watching your every move. "Can I assist you with anything?”
"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're not expected to do the work.”
You shook your head. "Still, please. Let me help you.”
"Yes, she's quite good actually. She's been dedicating a lot of time to practice.”
You shot Marlo a stern look, silently urging him to drop the subject. Unfortunately, your friends showed no signs of letting up.
"Oh right, she did! If you two join forces, I have no doubt it's going to result in the best dinner we've ever had!”
Rory's enthusiasm was so overwhelming that you almost felt the urge to scream and bolt. Sanji regarded you with a curious expression and a raised eyebrow, a look you quickly tried to dismiss. "It's not like that. I was forced to... I mean.... just, may I?”
Recognizing your growing desperation, Sanji didn't have the heart to turn you down.
"All right, love. Could you chop the carrots for me?”
Somewhat shyly, you nodded, washing your hands and picking up the knife from the table. Mari's barely suppressed giggle could be heard, and she met your playfully threatening glare with an innocent look.
"So, Sanji. How long have you been a cook?" Rubio asked, watching as you began to slice the vegetable.
His voice echoed with delight and pride as he replied, "I've been training since I was a child.”
"Impressive. It runs in your blood, then. Can you cook, like, anything?”
“I can make anything.”
“Now I’m jealous!”
The atmosphere became noticeably lighter and more carefree. Your friends were at ease, engaging in leisurely conversation and warmly interacting with the man who had clearly piqued your interest. The more you collaborated with the cook, the more your deep, meaningful glances with him became frequent.
Convinced that it was best to leave the two of you to your own tasks, Mari stood up and stretched her arms. "I believe it's time for a little rest. I've eaten so much that I'm starting to feel drowsy. What do you say, guys? Shall we let them finish the preparations?”
Immediately catching on, they all nodded in agreement and vacated their seats with lightning speed.
"Looks like the kitchen is in capable hands, catch you later," Marlo announced as he departed, throwing you a playful wink.
As they all withdrew, an awkward silence seemed to descend upon you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of a knife chopping and water boiling. Alone with Sanji again, you could feel the warmth radiating from his shoulder, so close to yours that they were almost touching.
Swallowing nervously, you apologized, "I'm sorry for their behavior. I hope they didn't make you feel uncomfortable.”
"Not at all. They seem like nice people.”
You allowed the freshly cut carrots to tumble into the simmering pot. "They truly are. I honestly don't know what I'd do without them.”
"You seem happier when you're with them," he observed.
"I am. We've been together since our childhood days. My parents never really approved of them, so I always had to come up with an excuse to sneak out and meet them.”
Your hand grazed against his as you handed him the ladle.
"Life hasn't been easy for you, has it?”
"No, not really.”
You watched him with admiration as he skillfully stirred the contents in the pot. The tantalizing aroma of the stew wafted up, tickling your nostrils and igniting your appetite once again.
"So, what's this about you training in cooking?" He inquired.
“It’s not what you think,” you replied, a chuckle escaping your lips. "My family wanted me to become the ideal wife, so they sort of nudged me into the kitchen to prepare meals suitable for a husband. I like cooking, but my skills are quite avarage, really.”
“You’re actually doing well.”
"All I'm doing is chopping vegetables, sprinkling some seasoning, and staring as you do all the heavy lifting.”
Your attention was more drawn to his arms and hands for entirely different reasons, but that was a piece of information he didn't need to know.
"It's not every day I get the opportunity to cook alongside a woman as pretty and intelligent as you.”
It was difficult to hold back your blush.
"I'm not that clever. If I were, I wouldn't have ended up here with that guy in the first place.”
Sanji's smile faltered only for a fleeting moment, before returning just as bright as before. "You certainly didn't deserve any of that, but… I'm glad it led to our paths crossing.”
In that moment, your mind was swarming with doubts and questions. Did he extend this level of kindness to any attractive woman he encountered at the Baratie? Were you developing feelings for the wrong man, someone who showered you with compliments while possibly having a multitude of women waiting in the wings?
The more you mulled it over, the less fearful you became as your impressions of him persisted. Could someone as gentle and courteous as he seemingly was, be the flirtatious player as Rory had insinuated?
Admittedly, your limited experience wasn't much to draw from, especially considering the sparse past relationships you had managed to keep concealed from your family. And yet, in Sanji's presence, you felt a sense of freedom and security that not even Mari and the others could provide.
"It might seem like an obvious thing to say, but I'm glad too.”
Underneath his hair, you could see his lips curling into a confident grin. And before you could utter another word, he turned towards you, a spoon filled with warm stew in his hand, gently pressing it against your lips.
"Would you mind tasting this for me, beautiful? It might be a bit hot, so be careful.”
Using the counter for support as your knees seemed to weaken, you held one hand under the spoon and gently blew on it to cool the meat down. The moment you brought your lips to it and allowed the stew to slide into your mouth, it instantly melted on your tongue, causing your taste buds to burst with joy.
"Oh, wow," you exclaimed. "This is delicious. But honestly, everything you make is perfect.”
"I had a good assistant.”
"You did most of it.”
"You have a precise knack for chopping, an acute sense of smell, and an excellent eye for seasoning. You're more talented than you give yourself credit for.”
You shrugged. "I never considered it to be something praise-worthy, but thank you.”
With the stew fully prepared, Sanji ladled generous portions into different bowls, sealing them with tinfoil to retain their warmth and prevent any foreign substances from contaminating the food. Between moments of laughter and diverse talks that allowed you to get to know each other a little better, you spent the afternoon preparing a variety of dishes, ranging from your friends' favorites to some of his specialties. By the time you finished, you estimated there would be enough food to last even through the next day, if not longer.
YYou had never experienced this much joy while preparing a meal before.
As you cleaned your hands with a towel, you looked at him with uncertainty, feeling a question bubbling up within you but hesitant to put it into words. Finally, having settled down next to him with a glass of water, you decided to take a leap of faith and speak your mind.
"Hey Sanji, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything you want,” he responded gently.
"So, I assure you I didn't rummage through your things, but I couldn't help noticing a few notes and maps on your desk. This place, the Baratie, it's not really where you want to be, is it?”
While his smile didn't fade, it was evident that your question had struck a chord.
"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer tha-”
"Have you ever heard of the All Blue?”
His question took you by surprise, but as it was a name you faintly recognized, it still had you deep in thought. No, it wasn't new at all. You were absolutely certain that you had come across it at some point. Perhaps it was mentioned in a story during one of your tedious dinners with Marines and notable figures. Or maybe it was something you found in a novel of some sort.
You searched your memory until something finally clicked. "I think I have. Isn't it a sea of legend, said to be the only place in the world where the North Blue, South Blue, East Blue, and West Blue seas intersect?”
Sanji looked at you with a surprised, yet pleased look.
You chuckled. "Yeah, I’m a bookworm.”
"Beautiful, intelligent, and impressively well-informed.”
"Oh, come on, really. Is this All Blue what you're searching for?”
Sanji's face turned solemn, tinged with a melancholic air. "There are fish from each of the four seas. It’s the ultimate dream of every chef.”
You nodded understandingly. "I can see why.”
"The All Blue is rumored to be located somewhere in the Grand Line. Yet, no one has ever found it.”
"And you believe it's not real?”
Sanji lifted his eyes from the table. "What about you?”
You didn't need to think it over. "I don't see why it shouldn't be. Whether it's legendary or not, the fact that it's known suggests there's some element of truth to it.”
Once again, his lips widened into the most beautiful of smiles, leaving you momentarily breathless.
"I know it's real. It has to be.”
"So... are you planning on setting out soon?”
Sanji let out a heavy sigh. "No.”
"But... I don't understand. I thought you wanted to find it?”
"I have responsibilities here, sweetheart. I can't just abandon Zeff.”
Your hands came together on the table. "So this is what you were referring to when you mentioned things were complicated?”
"Yeah.”
Despite your belief that he had every right to pursue the All Blue, you held back voicing your opinion on the matter. After all, you knew very little about his relationship with Zeff, and the fact that he was willing to sacrifice his dream for this man suggested their bond was far deeper than you initially perceived.
As if sensing your internal deliberation, Sanji continued speaking.
"He saved me, Y/N. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. I owe him my life.”
As he delved deeper into the story, and as much as you wished to know more, his explanation was enough for you to fully grasp his standpoint.
"And you?”
“Me?”
“Is there anything that you want to do?”
In that moment, you knew that he was asking about your dreams, wondering if you had one so intense that you'd consider setting sail into the open sea.
For the first time, as no one had ever asked you such a question, you found yourself at a loss.
"I'm not really sure," you replied. "The only thing I've ever wanted was to break free from the strict rules and impositions of my family. I've never really paused to consider what else could be out there for me.”
"I would call that a dream. One that you've just managed to fulfill.”
"Not really, no.” You absentmindedly fiddled with your fingers. "Perhaps in part, but there's still so much left to do. I'll never truly be free as long as they continue to expect my return.”
Sanji seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he nudged his chair a bit closer to you, just enough to be able to place his hand on yours.
"Then don't.”
Without any hint of embarrassment, you affectionately squeezed his wrist. "I have to. Otherwise, I'll just be hiding, and that's not what I want. I need closure.”
He pursed his lips together, nodding in silence, but maintaining his comforting grip on you. His touch was gentle yet firm, so incredibly grounding that you wished it could last forever.
Sadly, as the kitchen door swung open, you had to abruptly pull back and move slightly further from him.
"How's it going, guys? This room smells heavenly!”
You glanced down and ran your fingers across your forehead, while Sanji subtly cleared his throat into his hand. Mari looked at you, her smile broad and knowing, her eyebrows raised so high they seemed to touch the sky.
"It's all ready," Sanji responded, his voice slightly hoarse.
Unable to resist, Marlo immediately approached the covered stew, peeling back part of the tinfoil to take in its scent. "Holy cow, man. You're incredible.”
"Y/N deserves just as much praise.”
"Oh, I'm sure," Mari said, draping her arms around your shoulders from behind and squeezing a bit too tightly for comfort. "I want the deets later," she whispered into your ear.
Rubio stepped forward, giving Sanji's back a friendly pat and expressing his gratitude for the remarkable service. As dusk approached, it dawned on you how much time you both had devoted in that isolated chamber, and how rapidly the hours had slipped away in his company.
For the second time that day, your friends refused to allow you to dip into your savings, even though you were more than ready to compensate Sanji for all his efforts. Every single one of them.
But in the end, would money even suffice? You still felt a lingering indebtedness towards him, and you made a solemn vow to yourself that one day, somehow, you would reciprocate his kindness in a much grander, more significant way.
Mari persisted for a solid fifteen minutes, trying to convince him to accept the payment. Sanji was adamant that he didn't require any compensation, asserting that his joy stemmed from ensuring all of you were content and well-prepared for your journey home. However, no one could ever win against Mari’s obstinacy, and he was compelled to accept the payment with a slight reverance as he reluctantly took their Berries.
The mere idea of returning to your hometown felt like a weight on your heart, and the prospect of bidding farewell was agonizingly painful.
Recognizing that he needed to return to his duties at the Baratie, you proposed walking with him, not wanting him to endure Zeff's criticism for his extended absence. Naturally, Mari and the rest didn't oppose, silently motivating you to seize this chance.
Thus, both of you disembarked from the ship, strolling side by side down the wooden pier. The sea breeze brought a pleasant salty touch to your skin, and you were at a loss for words, unable to interrupt the serene quiet.
In the end, he was the one to shatter it.
"Will you be all right, love? Truly?”
His concern was moving, and it only made you want to stay and never leave.
"Yes," you replied with assurance. "Truly.”
“You do realize that you're stronger than you think, right?”
You smiled. "I do now, thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
You stopped, pivoting to face him and sweeping your hair away from your face. "You did a lot, actually. Maybe you don't even recognize it, but the way you speak has a way of calming a lady's heart. It certainly worked with me.”
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Believe me. With you, it’s natural.”
"If that's the case, I'm flattered.”
You resumed your walk, moving forward until the entrance to the Baratie stood directly in front of you. A part of you longed to grip onto him and beseech him to let you stay, to grant you employment at the restaurant, to protect you from any potential danger you might face at home.
Because, at the end of the day, you never learned how to stand on your own two feet. The reason it took you such a long time to finally break free from your family's control was that you had spent your entire life craving their love and approval. You sought validation, a confirmation that you were enough. But all you were met with were cruel words and expectations that shaped you into a person you didn't identify with, nor you wanted to be.
Sanji helped you understand that you weren't someone to be despised. You were deserving of protection and care, and your true value far surpassed the worth your family had ascribed to you.
"Will I see you again?" He asked, resting a hand on the door without pushing it open.
"As if I could go on without ever tasting your cooking again.”
You both shared another bout of laughter, trading one last look before you retreated a step. "Take care, Sanji. I'll see you soon.”
Without awaiting his reply, you turned and initiated your departure, taking a few steps along the pier as more ships began to approach.
But as you forced yourself to reach your friends, your body seemed to resist, decelerating until you came to a complete standstill, unsure of your subsequent action.
"Oh, come on! After all he's done for you, you didn't even give him a kiss?”
Mari's words reverberated in your mind, and although you had initially cast aside the notion as dreadfully improper, now your hands quivered with the urge that was overtaking you.
You swiveled your head, sneaking a look back at Sanji who had stayed exactly where you left him, motionless, observing as you walked away. Summoning a spontaneous burst of bravery, you made long strides to return to his side. His lips began to part to say something, but you halted him by resting your hand on his chest and pressing a modest, tender kiss onto his cheek.
It was cautious, as gentle as the touch of a feather. But the way he traced his fingers along your arm to grasp your wrist was an unmistakable indication of his appreciation for your gesture.
You barely locked eyes with him as you pulled back, your cheeks blushing at the sight of them. You didn't even stop to consider what you had just done, turning and darting off, making a beeline for your cabin with the intent to confine yourself and never come out. Only when you reached the main deck did you dare to look at the Baratie, realizing that the door was fully open and Sanji was nowhere in sight.
Throughout your voyage, your friends teased about the palpable tension and electric atmosphere that seemed to spark whenever you and Sanji were near each other. They highlighted the unmistakable mutual attraction, causing your cheeks to heat up even more. It was now impossible to deny that there was some form of connection between the two of you, but with the unresolved situation back home looming over you, you opted to shelf those thoughts as there were more pressing matters at hand.
The feeling was sickening, excruciating, and completely daunting. As you stared at the town materializing in the distance with a cup of coffee in your shaking hand, you promised yourself that this time, regardless of the potential fallout, you would stand up for your own welfare.
Now, unlike ever before, you knew exactly what to do. And for the first time, you had a clear objective to accomplish - you desired to see Sanji's face again above all else in the world.
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Final note: I didn't fully describe my OCs because I thought it would be fun for the readers to come up with their own vision and interpretation, so you are free to see them however you please, only using my little details as an indication.
Also, people have speculated that Sanji has a piercing just below his tongue, considering that something shiny seems to show up there in a couple of scenes. Someone confirmed that Taz Skylar, Sanji's actor, actually has one irl, so I thought it would be nice to include it here! 😆
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Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 4 ->
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danpuff-ao3 · 1 month ago
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2024 in review - recs & fics & more
Thanks for the tag @sitp-recs!
I started the year strong with a few rec lists, though I didn't do nearly as many as I have in years past. Still, I made 2 Snarry rec lists (Jealous Snape & Bottom Snape) and one non-snarry list (Valentine's themed).
Okay maybe I lied in that last one because I did have 2 big rec projects for this year: fest themed rec lists. I made a Top 5 list for every year of Snarry-a-Thon and Snarry AUctober Fest. I plan to add to them each year, and I'd also like to make similar lists for other fests, but we shall see!
I finally finished and posted Good Daddy, an addition to the Yes, Daddy series I've been talking about for years. (In fact my first podcast interview was with Snape Chat back in July 2021 and I'm pretty sure I mentioned it at the end of that episode...yikes!)
I continued my tradition of once a year posting on smile with sweet surprise, and one of the chapters I've been most excited for. Which means I get to wrap up the fic for good in 2025!
I ran HP Chan Fest again this year, and even participated with a fic called The Forbidden Fruit (part of the same 'verse as the prior year's The Virgin Bride).
Continued posting on 2 WIPs: Wasted for Love and Sugar, Honey.
I took a fandom break over summer which was helpful, and probably something I'll need to do in the future, as well. I hid all of my works and stepped away from socials. I get so in my head sometimes, and question my place in fandom, so it helps to take a breather and give myself some grace.
I ventured into the world of Snarriet, with help from my dear friend @loneamaryllis and her rec lists. I've inhaled a ton of @spicedlantern's fics because of it. This new step has given me a greater appreciation for my OTP in ways I didn't think possible, and now I have so many extra feelings about Snarry as a whole.
Because of my new love of Snarriet, I played around more with genderbending in my own writing. I wrote my own Snarriet fic called The Whispers in Your Eyes (which I love and am super proud of), a current Snarriet WIP called Hopes of the Heart (which I'm excited to continue next year), a fem!Snape fic called The First Date (which was a lot of fun and I really need to find more fem!Snape fics out there...)
PLUS a femslash Snarry fic (which I first did years ago with Take Heed, Dear Heart) called She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not for Snarry AUctober Fest. I've so wanted to participate in AUctober Fest for a while, so it's funny that when I finally did it was pretty much on a whim last minute.
(Funny story, the fic was inspired by an episode of Worst Roommate Ever and my muse took OVER) (In the episode, this lady was slowly poisoned and made sick by her so-called BFF, which inspired the "what if people were made sick by Hanahaki?)
(Oh also I edited Take Heed, Dear Heart to change Harry's name from Holly to Harriet, to fit my current preferences). (I think I also changed Hermione's name from Hercule to Herman?) (Not that anyone cares but still.)
I finished another fic that's been knocking around in my head for years: The Enemy's Bed. I've had the opening few paragraphs done for a while, but I was only able to finally make headway this year for Kinktober.
Speaking of, I also finished 2 other fics that I've had in mind for a while, these 2 part of the Love, Your Enemy series (also affectionately known as Contempt-verse). The first was Spellbound, which takes place in the immediate aftermath of Contempt. The other is Snowfall, a Christmas ficlet (first envisioned last year when I wrote the Valentine's Day ficlet, Lovestruck).
I've also been running @hprecfest with dear @coconutice22 and even participating in it myself here.
Fandom aside, I've also made strides in my personal life, between getting my home in order and also taking care of my health. I took a 2 week break from work, which was much needed. And I'll continue to prioritize myself and my wellbeing into the new year. With luck, that will benefit my fandom life, but if not...at least I'll be focused on what matters most.
Oh also I've been reading actual books for the first time in a while this year. I started off with some trashy romantacy books (which I love and are great), and now am in the middle of the Super Powereds books (for anyone interested).
Tagging whoever wants to play!
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wurm-food · 2 years ago
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Smolder | Smoker x G/N!Reader
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prompt inspiration from @bulle-blackhole: "An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose."
wc: 1.2k | cw: mutual pining, smoking, shot gunning, drinking (not excessive), suggestive at the end but still SFW | read this on ao3!
a/n: ok ok ok you all got me, I'm in to Smokey now. this prompt felt so perfect for him and it kind of wrote itself. enjoy!
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The sounds of clinking glasses and soft music drifted into the cool, nighttime breeze. The last of the men from G-5 could be heard pouring back out into the streets, continuing their night of debauchery. It was a hard fought day, so naturally there was a need to celebrate. Captain Tashigi had left on her own to get a well deserved night of sleep, it was exhausting to keep the wildest of the Marines in line. 
Vice Admiral Smoker hunched over the bar, pulling a fresh cigar from his coat to light. Smoke billowing from his lips, he turned his gaze back to you from across the room. You waited patiently on the balcony ledge just outside, chin in your hand as you looked out at the sea. He figured you’d have your own plans for the evening, but you decided to keep him company for another drink. You’d always had your own motivations. Whatever those were, he was glad you’d stayed behind. Two crystal tumblers of whiskey appeared with a thud against the bar, breaking his focus on you. Placing his cigar between his teeth, he made his way back to you with drinks in tow. 
He wasn’t sure what to make of you when you were first assigned to him all those years ago. New Marines were typically too green or too foolish to stand on their own, not without firm guidance and a good kick in the ass. But you learned quickly, took pride in your duties, and became a fine Marine quickly. So much so, you were whisked away by former Captain Hina for your talents. He’d hear a passing word about you from time to time, admiration from your superiors, even your ascension to officer ranks. As you rose higher and blossomed in your career, he pushed an unnameable feeling deeper within himself.
And now here you were, back in his life after all this time. He handed you your glass as you smiled, silently raising it towards his own before tilting your head back for a gulp. Observing you out of the corner of his eye, he noted the curve of your jaw, the flex in your neck, the subtle remnants of liquor that lingered on your lips as you pulled the glass away. A curious, confident grin spread across your face as you swirled your whiskey glass between your fingertips. That sinking, burning feeling returned in his chest stronger than ever.
“Mind if I try?” you nodded towards the cigar that he held between his teeth. Smoker raised an eyebrow at your request, taking another drag before exhaling over his shoulder.
“Didn’t take you for the type.” he commented, maintaining his eye contact with you before offering the cigar between his fingers. 
“Yeah, well… spending time with Rear Admiral Hina must have rubbed off on me.” You plucked the burning roll of tobacco from his gloved hand, grazing his fingers along the way. You watched his eyes follow your hand to your mouth, your heart drumming in your chest. After all, it was your idea to be reassigned to G-5 and reunite with the man who taught you everything you knew, the man who never ceased to cross your mind.
“Old habits die hard, I guess.”
He swallowed hard at your remark, breathlessly following the smoldering cigar as it connected to your lips, spellbound through the lingering cloud of smoke. 
Unfortunately for you, your time as a smooth talker was over as you took the overly ambitious drag of his cigar. Fire spread through your lungs as you coughed, hot tears welling up in your eyes. “Fuck–” you reached for your glass of whiskey to ease your suffering. “How can you stand those?”
“Heh,” he scoffed, a smile curling at his lips as he reclaimed his cigar. Your face was red with anguish and embarrassment, eyes glassy with tears below your furrowed brows. “You can’t be good at everything, Rookie.”
“Vice Admiral,” you croaked, glaring at the name you could never shake from him. “With all due respect. Shut up.”
Smoker belly laughed, taking another puff triumphantly. You were never afraid to push his buttons, even as a subordinate. You had guts and he admired that about you greatly. As you finally broke from your frustration with a weak chuckle, he couldn’t help but note how his heart swelled, that feeling that only came from you. He took a swig from his whiskey glass before turning to face you fully.
“You know, I can help you. If you want.”
You took your last sip from your glass before setting it down. You carefully observed the gentleness of his features, the softness around his tired eyes.
“Alright, I’m listening.”
Smoker took a few puffs of his cigar, eyes not leaving yours. He reached his hand out in front of your face and motioned you closer. Your eyes widened, but you complied. His large hands were gentle to the touch, cradling your chin between his fingers while his thumb ever so slightly pushed your jaw further open. 
Your lips drew close to inhale the tobacco Smoker passed to you. The tinge of liquor off his breath and warmth of his skin millimeters away intoxicated you, the intimacy made it hard for you to even breathe over the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.
As you drew away to exhale, your bottom lip grazed against his accidentally. His lips were softer than you imagined, even the fleeting touch sent your head spiraling. You opened your eyes to meet his warm umber gaze, your face still held in his hand like a precious object. You turned your head slightly to exhale, but didn’t leave his grip. His eyes flickered down to your lips, a slight pink tinging his face below heavy lidded eyes. A moment had presented itself and you decided to seize it.
But before you had the chance to make your move, Smoker’s lips enveloped yours, the scratchiness of his stubble striking against your skin. He was tender and purposeful, every inch of contact savored as years of pining from the both of you finally came to a sweet conclusion. You ran your fingers through his ashen hair as he pulled you closer, melting under your touch. The two of you had long forgotten the world around you, all there was to do was to pour yourselves into each other.
You broke your kiss for a much needed breath, only to find Smoker’s eyes widened in panic. He smoothed his hair back and took a final swig of his drink, cheeks fully reddened. “That was– I shouldn’t have– we–”
“Hey,” you reached for his hand that kept messing his hair. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
All you could do was smile at the flustered man, his eyes calculating his next move. He ashed his cigar in the balcony ledge before returning your smile, pulling you by the hand from the bar and into the night.
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labselkie · 5 months ago
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i saw a post about agatha that i’m trying not to go crazy about so im gonna shove this in everyone’s face and hope to get my mind off of it
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She looked like an angel from the very beginning. Drowned in gray, seated furthest away from the magic show’s gazebo. She was alone, at her own little table, surrounded by ones with just one or two people. No one paid attention, everyone knew everyone in this town, and they all knew Marie wasn’t anything special.
Vision’s act busted, but Agatha still found amusement in it. She planned to just disappear for the rest of the acts, she had her target in mind, but something else caught her eye. A handful of pure white doves emerged from the Maximoff’s cabinet of mysteries when Dottie stepped out, soft feathers falling over the crowd.
Even Marie stood to applaud, the thick fabric bow on her tight-backed dress swishing with her movements. Was that a normal thing to focus on..? The crowd settled down, the happy couple bowed and left, and the doves continued their aimless fluttering. All until one landed, right in front of the now seated Marie.
In her spellbound stupor, the young woman lit up. The dove cooed quietly, tilting its little head this way and that as the other two made a beeline to their friend. No one noticed, except for Agatha. One of the doves lands on the back of Marie’s garden chair, the third sits in the middle of the table, and the first one hops closer and leans toward Marie’s rising hand. As the second dove behind her pecks at her curly hair, the first one that landed leans its head forward, trusting her enough to let her pet it. Marie giggles quietly, gently stroking its soft head with her index finger. She looks elated, like this was the first thing that brought her true joy even in the spell.
Agatha turned in her seat, the only person in the shallow sea of people looking away from the stage. She rises from her seat and slinks forward, snatching up her handbag as she went. Marie looked as joyous as a child as she pet the little bird, and the other two quick to hop closer and puff up their feathers.
Although, the two doves not being pet panic when Agatha approach, fluttering over to sit behind Marie. The young woman does look up, but only gives a small smile as she continues petting the little animal.
“Well, look at this!” Agnes exclaims, pulling back one of the metal chairs, “Were these sweethearts your pets before the show? I lended the lovebirds my sweet Scratchy, but they must’ve figured he’d steal the show.”
Marie looked up as Agnes spoke, leaning forward some, in a somewhat antisocial manner. Yet she still smiles, and brings her free hand up to lean her cheek on. “No… They aren’t, actually.” She looks back down to the dove, continuing to scratch just behind its head.
“Mhm, but you can’t blame me for thinking that,” The witch takes a seat, smoothing out her dress as she goes. With her elbow on the table, she attempts to reach out to the last dove on the table. The other two, still perched on Marie’s metal chair, cower closer to each other, like they sense something from the sweet neighbor.
“No, I can’t…” Marie snickers faintly, looking up to study Agnes. Her eyes linger on the large brooch pinned to the otherwise monochrome dress. She looks back up and smiles, sitting up to speak again, “But they’re so sweet! I have no clue where they got such cuties!”
Agnes lowers her hand fully, a dark painted nail barely brushing past a few ruffled feathers on the bird’s head. It recoils and puffs up, hopping back to Marie’s side with some quick coos. The witch sits up, eyes barely widening at the animal’s reluctance. Marie just keeps her smile on, mind still fuzzy from the Hex.
Agnes tilts her head some, almost in time with the bird before her. “Have I seen you around, hon?”
“Hm?” Marie chirps, her hands lowering as her focus finally tore away from the dove. “Yes! Actually… I heard Mrs. Maximoff talk about you, I’m just across the street from your house.”
Agnes nodded along, clasping her hands in front of her chest. It took her a moment, but she remembered to feign shock, as her bright eyes lit up with her smile. “Oh, you’re that Marie!” She jokes, waving a hand as she chuckles, “The one staying with her brother, correct?”
“Oh, yeah.. How did you-“ Marie is cut off by an even louder laugh from Agnes, and the sound of clapping as another group finished their act for the talent show.
“Word gets around! Nothing wrong with that!”
Marie’s brows rose, a touch of worry rising to those soft features. Agnes noticed this, of course she does! So, to try and quell the little thing’s concern, she lowers a hand and tries to scoot the dove on the table closer. The two perched behind Marie have long since fallen asleep, but thankfully this little diversion works. A sweet smile cracks across her face, and she moves to stroke the bird’s head once more.
“Well, I’m sure it does..”
Agnes’s smile softens, ever so slightly. She pulls her hand back and fidgets with her little purse. “Say.. You do like birds, correct?”
The question was rhetorical, so Marie’s nodding was expected. Agnes leans forward, crossing her legs and lowering her voice. “My dear husband just adores birdwatching, how about I see if he can set up a little club?”
Marie’s head shot up, accidentally waking up the birds behind her. The crowd begins to applaud once more, the talent show should be coming to a close soon. “He does? You’d do that?!” Marie exclaims.
“Why wouldn’t I?” A hint of an accent seeps into Agnes’s tone, even through her fit of giggles, “Dearie, you know I’d always love to help a neighbor!”
The witch knew she’d have to make her exit soon, too, especially to get her sweet rabbit back from Wanda. She takes her purse back, still smiling kindly. “Now, I’ll go tell him, and maybe we can plan a nice brunch too!”
When Agnes stands, Marie almost does as well, but she quickly realizes that she shouldn’t. Her excitement was getting the better of her, but it wasn’t long until she’d be lulled back under the hex. “Right, right-“ She replied, “I’ll see you there, then..? I can bring some books-“
Agnes steps up, rounding Marie’s seat to go past. But just before, she stops, and ruffles the young woman’s curly hair. “I’ll see you there, hon.”
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the-reader-insert-gazette · 3 months ago
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Spellbound Shenanigans - F!Reader x Astarion
Baldurs Gate 3
When Reader discovers a magical pendant that grants wishes—with a twist—she and Astarion can't resist using it to stir up mischief.
TW: Characters experience brief loss of control over their actions through magical influence. While these moments are lighthearted and cause no harm, readers sensitive to themes of autonomy and control may wish to proceed with caution.
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The summer evening had just started its descent into dusk when [Name] stumbled upon the tiny, moss-covered chest beneath the roots of a twisted oak tree. She hadn’t planned to spend the night foraging this deep in the woodlands of Baldur’s Gate. Halsin had warned her to steer clear of areas known for their mischievous enchantments, but [Name], as always, had disregarded his advice, enticed by the promise of rare fungi growing only under the shade of ancient trees.
When she pried the chest open, something metallic glimmered back. Inside laid a small, golden pendant, twisted into the shape of a horned creature, with a tiny glinting ruby in the center. A shiver ran through her fingers as she brushed the dirt from its surface, and a faint voice echoed in her mind. The message was simple, almost a whisper: Wish for whatever your heart desires.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. Wishes weren’t her style—she preferred tangible rewards over fairy tales and magic promises. But something about this amulet tugged at her curiosity. Maybe, she thought, it’d be amusing to see just how reliable a “wish” could be.
“Oh, why not?” she muttered, more to the pendant than herself. Astarion would’ve had a good laugh at the idea of her buying into this. “Might as well start small. Alright, amulet, let’s see you work. I wish for… a strong drink waiting for me back at camp.” She scoffed, expecting nothing.
The moment she snapped the lid shut, there was a faint popping noise from somewhere to her right. She followed it, half-expecting to find nothing but shadows and forest noises. But instead, perched on a stump, was a delicately poured glass of red wine, the liquid rich and dark as the night sky.
Her brows furrowed as she examined the glass, sniffing it cautiously. “That… doesn’t smell like anything poisonous.” And as she took a sip, the wine’s taste was as fine as anything she’d nicked from the larders of Baldur’s Gate's wealthiest estates. She couldn’t help a small grin. “Alright, this could be interesting.”
With that, she pocketed the pendant and made her way back to camp, her curiosity now mingling with a giddy spark of amusement. But it wasn’t until she got close enough to see the campfire glow that she realized what had truly followed her.
Astarion was pacing near the fire, a flicker of frustration in his crimson gaze. “Well, there you are,” he snapped, turning as she approached. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off for good.”
“Relax, I was just…” She hesitated, deciding against the full truth. “Foraging.”
His eyes narrowed. “Right. And found anything of interest?”
“Oh, a few things.” She tossed him a coy smile, deciding to keep the amulet to herself. For now, anyway.
The night went on as usual, with [Name] ignoring the pendant and engaging in their typical banter with Astarion over the fire. But as the hour grew late, her fingers itched toward the amulet again, thoughts forming, playful and teasing in the back of her mind. Perhaps it was the wine—or maybe the night’s quiet that had her on edge—but [Name]'s focus drifted to Astarion, and, on impulse, she thought, I wish Astarion would… well, maybe smile a little more. Genuinely, just for once. She closed her fingers around the amulet, almost laughing at the absurdity of it.
Moments later, Astarion chuckled—a sound rare and softer than his usual sarcastic remarks. He turned to her, a strangely earnest grin spreading across his face. “You know, [Name], I’ve always thought you have a rather… charming presence.”
[Name]'s eyes widened as he continued, words pouring from him with alarming enthusiasm.
“And did I mention your wit?” he continued, inching closer to her on the log. “Positively dazzling. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated just how radiant you are in the moonlight.”
[Name], usually unfazed, felt heat rising to her cheeks. “Alright, Astarion, that’s enough.”
But Astarion leaned even closer, his gaze locked on her in a way that was both genuine and utterly unnerving. “Oh, but I could go on for hours. Your sharp tongue, your impeccable taste in foraging locations—”
“Astarion!” she yelped, pressing a hand to his chest to put some space between them. His hand caught hers, his gaze softening. Her heart hammered, and she suddenly understood that the amulet had a twisted sense of humor.
The next morning, [Name] was sorely tempted to throw the pendant into the nearest river, but her stubborn nature got the better of her. As she rolled it between her fingers, a thought struck her, another mischievous wish. I wish he’d leave me alone for once.
But when she emerged from her tent, Astarion was gone. And so was his tent. And his supplies. Her eyes widened as she realized he’d vanished entirely.
“Damn it,” she muttered, clutching the pendant tighter. “I didn’t mean that alone.”
It took her hours to find him. She combed through the forest until she spotted him perched under a tree, absently humming a tune. When he noticed her approach, he gave a lazy wave, completely unfazed by her worried expression. “[Name]! What a surprise to see you here. Did you get lonely?”
She glared at him. “I didn’t exactly mean for you to disappear without a trace.”
“Oh, but what a glorious night it was!” He winked, clearly amused by her distress. “I’m flattered you missed me, though. Really, you should say it more often.”
“Enough,” she growled, reaching for the pendant with a huff. But before she could utter another wish, Astarion’s hand shot out, plucking the amulet from her fingers.
“Oh, [Name],” he purred, eyes glinting with mischief as he examined the pendant. “And here I thought you weren’t one for whimsical magic.”
She reached for it, but he held it just out of her grasp. “Give it back.”
“Now, now,” he tutted, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to see what I wish for?”
[Name]'s heart raced. “Astarion—don’t you dare.”
But he merely held up a finger to his lips, pressing the pendant to his chest. “I wish…” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “For [Name] to be utterly enchanted with me. Just for a day, mind you.”
The effects were immediate and, to her horror, uncontrollable. [Name] felt a wave of warmth rise within her, a magnetic pull toward him she couldn’t resist, a sudden and irrational urge to… reach out and touch his face.
Astarion’s grin softened as she instinctively stepped closer, her fingers brushing his cheek. “Oh, I should have wished for this sooner,” he murmured, tilting his face into her hand.
Her hand jerked away, but her heart betrayed her, and she found herself leaning closer. She knew it was the pendant, yet in that moment, logic lost its hold. For the first time in all their sparring, their proximity, and their endless taunting, she didn’t have a snarky retort.
“[Name]…” he whispered, and it wasn’t the mocking tone she’d come to expect. There was something softer, raw. And it nearly undid her.
The pendant clattered to the ground, breaking the spell with its faint clink. [Name] blinked, regaining her senses. “That… that was a low blow,” she managed, stumbling back, cheeks aflame.
Astarion, who’d frozen in place, slowly straightened. His playful smile faltered as he met her gaze, something akin to hesitation flashing across his face. “Well… consider us even.”
The amulet, lying between them, pulsed faintly before dimming back into silence, as though content with the mayhem it had caused. [Name] knelt, slipping it into her pocket, her eyes lingering on him just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“A pity we didn’t get a real wish, hm?” she murmured, unable to keep the note of longing from her voice. “One that doesn’t come with consequences.”
He stepped closer, his gaze lingering, almost contemplative. “Maybe we don’t need one.”
[Name] felt her pulse quicken as she watched Astarion’s expression shift from playful to… something softer, something vulnerable. The kind of look he rarely allowed himself. His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before he looked away with a self-conscious chuckle.
“Don’t look at me like that, darling,” he said, forcing a smirk. “Or I might start to think this little wish of mine wasn’t all pretend.”
She felt herself flush, caught between the remnants of the enchantment and the stark realization that some part of her hadn’t wanted to resist it. Clearing her throat, she turned away, trying to gather her composure. “Pretend or not, I’d appreciate if you’d leave my wishes alone next time.”
Astarion laughed, but it was a quieter sound, lacking his usual bite. “Noted. Though, I’m not entirely convinced you hated it.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a murmur as he leaned in. “Or maybe you just don’t want to admit that for once, something actually worked in your favor.”
She opened her mouth to snap back, but he held up his hand, surprising her.
“No need to wound me with one of your verbal jabs.” His eyes softened, and he gave a light shrug. “I’ll spare you my devilish charms for now, [Name]. But,” he continued, raising an eyebrow, “it is a shame, don’t you think? Having a magic item like that and not making full use of it?”
[Name]'s fingers twitched as she felt the amulet’s weight in her pocket. Despite everything, curiosity and mischief warred in her mind. One more wish, a voice in her head whispered. Just to see. What would happen if she tried one more—without Astarion’s meddling this time?
She held the pendant out, eyeing it as if testing her own resolve. “Fine. One more. But no interruptions, understood?”
Astarion raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning as he took a step back. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Alright, she thought, focusing on the words she was about to say. “I wish…” she paused, her cheeks heating as she considered something utterly foolish, “I wish Astarion could show some affection without all his usual swagger.”
Astarion's smirk faltered as the pendant flashed in her hand, its magic humming around them. He blinked, a moment of confusion flashing across his face, before his gaze settled on her, softer and—dare she believe it—genuine.
He took a small step closer, his hand reaching out hesitantly. This time, there was no sly grin, no playful glint in his eyes. “You know, [Name],” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… quite remarkable. Even if you do have a penchant for dangerous enchantments and dubious wishes.”
[Name]'s heart pounded as he moved closer, his fingers grazing her cheek in a gesture so tender it nearly undid her. There was a vulnerability in his touch, a hesitance she hadn’t seen in him before, as if he feared the magic might break if he tried too hard. She swallowed, watching him, unable to find words.
“You, of all people,” he continued, his voice quiet and oddly reverent, “have a way of reminding me there’s more to this world than all the games we play. More than surviving.”
His hand dropped, and for a brief moment, she thought he’d step back, but he lingered, his gaze locked on hers, and his expression completely unguarded. “I’ve spent so long… existing in fragments of myself. Pieces I thought would hold forever. But somehow,” he paused, and his lips quirked in a soft, almost sad smile, “being around you… it’s like I can’t help but feel… whole.”
The words, so uncharacteristically earnest, hung between them like a suspended breath, the kind of confession that could only have been coaxed out by magic—or something beyond it.
She didn’t realize her own hand had moved until her fingers brushed his, her heart pounding loud enough that she was sure he could hear it. “Astarion…” she started, voice caught between awe and disbelief.
“Yes?” he replied, his tone so gentle she almost didn’t recognize it.
But then, the pendant’s light flickered, and the spell’s glow faded. As the magic dissipated, Astarion’s expression slowly shifted back to his usual guarded smirk, the vulnerability in his eyes slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
“Ah,” he sighed, stepping back, hands on his hips as if nothing had happened. “I suppose that’s the end of that, hmm?” He shot her a teasing grin, his walls firmly back in place. “Though, I have to say, I think I handled it with remarkable restraint, don’t you?”
[Name] huffed, trying to ignore the hollow ache in her chest at the sudden distance between them. “Restraint isn’t exactly what I’d call that performance, Astarion.”
His smile widened. “Come now, darling, you know me better than that. I’m an open book!” He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning innocence, but [Name] caught the flicker of something in his gaze—something that hadn’t entirely vanished with the magic.
She rolled her eyes, letting her own defenses slide back into place. “Well, if you’re an open book, then it’s one I’ve already read a hundred times over.”
“Oh, touché.” He gave a theatrical bow, but his gaze softened for just a moment. “But if you find yourself needing another ‘page-turner,’ you know where to find me.”
They shared a long look, one that held both mischief and a hint of the unspoken. She knew the magic had faded, the wish expired, yet a lingering spark remained, something neither of them could entirely brush off.
As they returned to camp, side by side but with a careful distance, [Name] glanced back at the pendant, her fingers brushing its surface thoughtfully. Perhaps she’d keep it around, not for the wishes it offered, but for the chance, however fleeting, to glimpse something true.
For in those brief, enchanted moments, she had seen the person he could be beneath the masks they both wore. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough to keep her wishing, long after the magic had faded.
The days following that strange evening passed in their usual rhythm—fights, foraging, campfire conversations, and the occasional magical mishap. Despite their tendency to quarrel, [Name] and Astarion found themselves naturally drifting back toward each other. The pendant, now tucked securely in [Name]'s satchel, pulsed with a faint, mischievous hum as if waiting for its next command.
A few nights later, as the campfire crackled and their companions relaxed after another hard-won battle, [Name] nudged Astarion, a smirk spreading across her face. The others had no idea about the pendant's existence or its strange magic, and she was itching to see what else it could do.
Astarion, catching her expression, raised a brow. “Something on your mind, darling?” he murmured, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Perhaps,” she whispered back, pulling out the pendant and giving it a meaningful shake. “Think they could use a bit of ‘wishful’ intervention?”
He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Their first target was Gale, who sat a few paces away, meticulously stirring a pot of stew over the fire. The wizard muttered to himself as he sprinkled in herbs, his eyes darting between his alchemy set and a collection of arcane ingredients.
Astarion leaned closer, whispering, “Something subtle for the esteemed wizard, don’t you think?”
[Name] grinned. “I wish Gale would share a rather embarrassing story about his life. Just… let it spill right out.”
The pendant flashed briefly, and they waited. Within moments, Gale blinked as if a stray thought had just crossed his mind.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to impress a group of sorcerers in Waterdeep?” he said suddenly, his voice louder than usual. The whole camp turned to him, caught off guard.
Astarion bit back a laugh as Gale continued, clearly unaware of his own volition. “I thought, you see, that a display of fireworks would showcase my ‘vast’ power. But something went wrong, and instead of a beautiful display, I accidentally conjured… well, hundreds of pigeons. Yes, pigeons. They swarmed everyone. Feathers everywhere.”
Tav burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. Shadowheart’s smirk was the closest to a full laugh any of them had seen from her in days.
“Oh, Gale,” Tav chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. “You? Chased out of Waterdeep by a flock of pigeons?”
Gale turned red, his mouth moving as though he couldn’t quite understand why he was recounting the story. “Yes… and, er… that’s enough about that.” He cleared his throat, looking suspiciously at the pendant in [Name]'s hands, though he said nothing more.
[Name] and Astarion exchanged a gleeful glance, their eyes landing next on Lae’zel, who sat by herself, sharpening her sword and scowling as always. Astarion’s grin turned wicked. “Shall we try our luck with our dear githyanki?”
“Oh, definitely,” [Name] replied, her fingers brushing the pendant as she thought up the next wish. “I wish Lae’zel would feel compelled to offer everyone in the camp a compliment. A genuine one.”
The pendant flashed again, and [Name] quickly slipped it into her pocket as Lae’zel’s head jerked up, her sharp gaze suddenly drifting over her companions. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then spoke as if the words had been wrenched from her.
“Tav,” she growled, her voice laced with reluctance, “your strength… is formidable. Few could stand as long as you do in battle.”
The entire camp fell silent, heads turning toward her in varying degrees of shock and amusement. Tav blinked, clearly at a loss. “Uh… thanks, Lae’zel.”
Lae’zel’s face twisted as she forced herself to look at Gale next. “You have… wisdom,” she said with difficulty, as though each word was an uphill battle. “Even if your spells are often… irrelevant.”
Gale, still recovering from his own magical slip, gave a dignified nod, though he couldn’t quite hide his smile. “Much appreciated, Lae’zel. Truly.”
Lae’zel’s gaze snapped to Astarion, her jaw clenched. “You… have survived this long despite your many… shortcomings. A testament to… adaptability.”
Astarion placed a hand to his chest, feigning surprise. “Why, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Do not test me,” she hissed, her face red with barely contained rage.
Finally, she turned to [Name], and her expression softened, if only slightly. “You possess a resilience worthy of admiration, [Name].” The words left her lips reluctantly, yet there was a sliver of sincerity in her tone.
[Name] smirked, offering a little bow. “Why, thank you, Lae’zel. I’m deeply touched.”
As the spell faded, Lae’zel scowled, her fingers tightening around her sword. “If any of you mention this again, I will personally end you.”
Tav raised her hands, still chuckling. “Not a word, Lae’zel. Promise.”
Shadowheart, who had been watching silently with a glint of amusement in her eyes, was the next obvious target. Astarion turned to [Name], his voice low. “Now, our darling Shadowheart. Any ideas?”
“Oh, plenty,” [Name] replied, a devilish smile on her face. “I wish Shadowheart would find herself compelled to dance by the fire. Just for a few moments.”
The pendant hummed in her pocket, and they waited, eyes on Shadowheart as she poured herself a cup of tea. Just as she lifted it to her lips, her foot began tapping to an unseen rhythm. Her expression twisted in surprise as her other foot joined, and soon enough, she was standing, her body swaying in an oddly graceful, if reluctant, rhythm.
The whole camp stared, mouths agape, as Shadowheart spun lightly, her movements precise and surprisingly elegant, despite the clear annoyance flashing in her eyes.
“Shadowheart, I didn’t know you were so light on your feet!” Tav teased, clapping in time to the beat of her steps.
Shadowheart glared daggers at her, even as her feet continued to dance. “I have no idea why I’m doing this. But rest assured, I do plan on finding out.”
[Name] stifled her laughter, nudging Astarion as the dance slowly came to an end. “I think that’s our cue to retire before anyone gets suspicious.”
The pair moved to their tents, trying to contain their laughter, though Astarion was practically doubled over. “Ah, darling, that was perfect. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
“Neither have I,” [Name] admitted, glancing back at the fire where the others were still laughing, and, despite her usual detachment, feeling a small, warm satisfaction at the shared laughter.
As they ducked into their tents, [Name] felt a faint, lingering pulse from the pendant, as if it, too, was pleased with the mischief it had caused. Maybe it had its downsides, but tonight had proven that with the right partners in crime, even magic gone awry could create moments worth holding on to.
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After starting 12 different campaigns going up to the middle of Act 2, I finally finished the game, taking the Astarion romance route (despite being a Gale girly). And which that comes... this?
Also don't mind me including Tav as a camp member, I just love their dialogue at times lol
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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 1 year ago
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heyo! architecture nerd here! i was thinking about (and maybe drawing too.....) the everdeen's house plan and also peeta's in spellbound, do you think they're twin homes? or do they have a different structure perhaps? do you have any specific room placements in mind? tbh i've been having trouble finding refs of cottage style homes big enough that fit my daydreams 🥲 that ain't stopping me though
Hey Anon! So ngl I have been holding onto this for awhile because while the layout of both their houses has existed in my head all this time, I've never put it to paper. I'll go ahead and confess that I ran into the same problem as you, so I decided screw it. They're custom built houses and therefore I can do what I want. Let me also caveat this by reminding everyone that I'm not an artist, and I'm not an architect. Scale is probably crap or nonexistent on these drawings lmao. As you will see, they are definitely not twin layouts. Also forgive the shitty quality, my scanner is not great.
Now, I encourage you to continue to dream whatever the heck you want and toss my drawings to the wind if you don't like them lol ;) Thanks for the interest!
First up! Peeta's house. So it's been a hot minute, so I don't expect anyone but myself to remember, but Peeta first slept in a different room because it was in better condition. I labeled it as such on the upstairs layout, but that could also be labeled as "Bedroom for future toastbaby" lol. EDIT: I just realized a huge mistake I made here so I may need to redo both layouts anyways. *sigh*
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Next up! Katniss and Prim's house. I can't remember whether or not I had them looking at something out of kitchen windows that would be made impossible by this layout. If I did, I think I'd rather edit the story than this layout... But I may need to anyways because I think I mentioned something in the story that I didn't include here... sigh.
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