#anyways.. thanks for reading and i hope you have a wonderful rest of the year... bc unless something else happens
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arkhamsbrat · 5 hours ago
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even before he met you jason knew he loved you. the little box hidden under the floorboards at Wayne manor was proof enough. the sheets were folded neatly, stacked in the order he wrote them in an old sneaker box. letter upon letter upon letter to his future spouse that were long forgotten after his death.
when he was younger, he hoped he’d be able to to give it to someone one day. sat and prayed for the day that the right person would come along that he could make happy.
when he came back, he still dreamed about it. jason just didn’t think he deserved it. a love worth those letters would never be in his cards.
then you came along, with your bright smile, sweet words, and patience. god, your patience had to be strong dealing with all of his baggage. he didn’t think he deserved it, but you refused to give him anything else.
was it patience or were you just too stubborn to let go of him? jason didn’t really care about the difference.
he spent nights with you, tangled in the sheets just letting you love him. his mind calms, slowly, with all of your words, your touches- you. it takes nearly a year for him to even believe you really do care about him, without any ulterior motives. he’d found himself too attached to you to worry if there were any, anyways. if he was going to die again, he’d hoped it would be you that killed him.
jason realized he loved you when he woke up to your fingers pressed gently against the pulse points on his neck. sweat beaded along your hairline, eyes wide. “what the-” he couldn’t help the twinge of fear in his gut. what the fuck were you doing?
his hands wrapped around your wrists rougher than he probably should have as he sat up, heart beating against his ribs. he took a deep breath, fighting off every single thought of how you could kill him so easily right now. there was no reason for him to think you’d hurt him, you would never.
your breathing was just as uneven, heart stuttering with every half second. “i-just… had a dream.” you whispered , barely audible against the buzzing of the ceiling fan. “you died. i needed to… make suure.” your eyes flickered away from him as your tears started to fall. the nightmares that plagued your mind normally stopped around jason, but they broke through your safe space tonight.
the look of shock he was giving you made your skin crawl. jason was normally so sweet to you. did you overestimate how much he could handle? you took a deep breath and wiped your cheeks. “i didnt mean to wake you up, i’ll-” jason shook his head and let your wrists go, pulling you to his chest.
he steadied his breathing and shut his eyes tight , chin resting against your head as you sobbed against him, apologizing over and over again because you might lose him now. the fear in your eyes wasn’t because you got caught. it was because you loved him. this was somehow his first realization that it was real for you too. your whispered apologies slowed as he soothed you to sleep ��not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” he whispered before you fully dozed off. “who’s gonna take care’a you if im gone?”
things between you two felt… different after that. better, but different. it wasn’t until two weeks later that it solidified. Alfred had called him to grab lunch together, and came with a beat up box. jason didn’t recognize it at all until Alfred opened it and pushed it towards him. “I thought it was Master Bruce’s at first, but…” jason scanned over the top letter, eying his old chicken scratch. he shut the box and pulled it close to his chest, wondering if you’d be home before him. “thank you, Alfred..” the old man nodded with a smile. jason knew you were it for him, no questions asked. the letters had always belonged to you.
the minute you were home he sat you down and set the box in front of you. “read them. please…” you eyed the box carefully before reaching out and grabbing the first letter. barely halfway through it and tears were streaming down your cheeks. before he even knew you, he wrote letter on letter on letter about how much he dreamed about being with you. how deep in his soul, he knew he’d find you no matter how long it took. it wasnt chance that these letters found their way to you- it was fate. everything in them perfectly described you, how you spoke to him, acted around him. everything about you is exactly what he’d always wanted.
he eyed you carefully from the opposite end of the couch, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. “so?” he mumbled once you finished. “so!?” you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “do you… like them?” you nodded once, fighting back the shock of it all. “jayce, these are…” he let out a nervous laugh. “cheesy? yeah. just thought the person i wanna spend the rest’a my life with should have ‘em.”
reading that was one thing, but jason saying it out loud? “are you sure?” you asked, scooting closer to him. he cupped your cheeks and smiled at you like you hung the stars just for him. “never been so sure about anything else.”
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messrsrarchives · 2 days ago
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Hi Robyn. I appreciate you taking the time to always articulate your thoughts on Rowling and topics like that. I was wondering if you have thoughts on this or an answer to this question:
In a recent post you said things like "there's no ethical way to engage" and that you're trying to do "the least amount of harm possible." A few years ago, I believed these things very literally and believed it was completely immoral to engage in HP at all or engage in the fandom at all, and therefore I did not. Now obviously my beliefs have changed and I no longer believe it's so immoral I can't interact with it, and obviously neither do you or any of the rest of us. Are you able to articulate why? If there's no ethical way to engage, how do you justify being in the fandom? If you're trying to do the least amount of harm possible, do you believe you're still doing harm by being in the fandom and how do you justify that? If this is all inherently unethical and harmful, why are we doing it? How is it morally justifiable to be in the HP fandom at all, to post about it and therefore "promote" it? How do you justify to yourself being in the fandom?
I don't know the answer to that, and since you're someone who often has thoughts on this sort of subject I hope you are able to articulate this in some way that makes sense. I know it's a big question that may not even really have an answer, but I would like to know your thoughts or feelings about it if you'd like to answer.
Secondly, have you ever written up one single list along the lines of "things I believe we should not do"? Like listing it all out in one post: don't watch the hbo show even if you have a subscription, don't post about the show, don't comment on fancasts' posts, don't spend money on merch, don't post merch even if you didn't pay for it, and so on.
Thank you so much <3
HIII !!! always here to yap about these things <33 this is going to be so long i'm sorry !
i think one of my pinned videos on tiktok talks about guilt. there's so much guilt for engaging here and i know that i'm not the only one who, not only feels that, but feels as though it's a lot heavier recently. regardless of how you're engaging, we're promoting her universe and we are complicit, and there's so much guilt that comes with that.
but i think sometimes guilt is useful. i think there's a certain amount of guilt in this scenario that,,, i don't know? makes you better?? i think if you feel a bit guilty for being here, then you're aware and you're more likely to be conscious about your engagement. i think if you're not feeling at least the slightest bit guilty for being here, chances are you're unaware about the effects (whether direct or not) and you're too comfortable. we see a lot of people say "well i'm queer she hates me anyway" or "well i read stories she would hate" or "this fandom is everything she hates" etc etc as if our mere existence here is,,, an act of protest? but i don't see it as that. i don't see me engaging here as an act of protest, i see everything else as one.
and i guess that's why i came back to these spaces. i was told about ATYD by a friend and i already knew the basics about JKR, so my first action was to reread the books for the first time in years and try to see if anything read differently - a lot more stood out because i was more aware, and i spent a solid two weeks just doing research and thinking "okay, if i go into this, what do i need to do?"
at that point, all i thought i had to do was boycott and not put the same ideals into fanfiction, but it's a lot more intense than that. there's the risk of promoting a fic of someone who doesn't stand with us, or of commenting on something in a promoting way, or of showing off old merch and not specifying etc etc - there's a lottt of hidden ways we promote her without realising. that's also why i don't tend to talk About the books unless i'm recalling canon information for a plotline. or the movies unless i'm doing the same.
i think where you say "how do you justify being in the fandom" the most important word there for me is You.
there's the basics, of course: don't profit her, don't post things that profit her, don't perpetuate her ideals, don't promote harry potter in random comment sections, don't talk about the reboot even if you aren't watching it etc etc.
and then everything else is You. once you've got the basics of ethical (as much as possible) engagement, the justification part comes down to you personally. what do you need to do? what will make it feel safer for you? what will make you feel more comfortable? what balances it out for You?
for me, that's talking about it. and it comes off very lecture-like and like i'm scolding people and on one hand,, yes. it's a lecture, it's education, it's demonstrating what to do. but on the other, it's for me? it's for Me. and for Me to justify being in this space, it's to be loud and vocal. i've always said not everyone needs to be loud about it! i think forced activism is harmful but for Me personally? it's the talking about it that justifies it. for every negative comment that i get, i get 10 people that didn't realise the impact. for every person that says "this is such a non-issue" i get a DM from someone else asking more questions or thanking me for talking about it.
for every person in the fandom that doesn't value trans lives and lets me know that, i get 10 trans people who thank me for being loud about it.
and i think that's it for me. formulating a safe bubble for me and everyone else that has been harmed feels like justification. i won't ever be able to change her views or make a mass change, i'm just one guy without much to offer, but i can get one dm from a trans person who is glad to have found a space and,,, yeah. i can make A difference. i'm glad.
and then that all comes together when it comes to me posting. posting even fics is promoting her but i like to think (maybe potentially ignorantly, i'm not sure) that if someone new(er) to the fandom fics a video i've made on the fyp and they want to know more, they'd swipe across to my account, hypothetically. and then they'd find the jkr playlist, they'd find the pinned videos, they'd find the yap playlist and the jkr powerpoint etc etc, and i - definitely ignorantly - like to think that it balances out somewhere. maybe. hopefully. it definitely does more than just posting about the fandom/studios/merch on something like tiktok with an incrediblyyyy loose algorithm and not mentioning anything at all.
it's a hard balance. it's a hard balance of wanting to educate but not wanting to come off kind of,,, like superior? dictorial? placing myself above everyone? but also not wanting to sit back. and i don't think i've found that balance yet, but that's okay! it's all a curve.
for someone else it could be that they add the disclaimers to their fics and don't talk about it publicly often. like here on tumblr is very different to over on tiktok, and i'm sure justification works different on a systemic level here than there. or for someone else it could be that they simply read someone else's talks about it and try to adapt. it could be anything really, it's so individual!
you can justify it however you need to, as long as you have the basics down and you're not causing harm. as long as your justification isn't rooted in assauging your guilt (by that i mean for example, "im queer and jkr hates me anyway so i'll go the studios in protest" because that causes harm)
but at the end of the day i think it comes down to not letting TERFs win. at the end of the day i think we all justify it by not letting them take away another thing we love, even if it's something as silly as a magical universe. it means a lot to us, we aren't going to give it up for someone like her.
so we make a change. we don't separate art from artist, that causes harm. we don't call it reclaiming, you can't reclaim IP of someone still living and profiting.
but we can claim a bubble within it, and we can surround ourselves with people that get it and some of us will step out of the bubble and try to get more people to join us, others will be happy just staying in there and enjoying their time, and we all just get to Breathe.
i don't know. this is long and rambly and i don't think i'll ever justify it fully. i think i'll always feel guilty and i'll always talk about it and i think i'll always have moments where i wonder if maybe i am doing more harm, or times where i feel like i'm screaming myself hoarse and people don't seem to get it but,,, i also have 20,000 people that i didn't have before. and lifelong friends. and communication skills i didn't have, and a rekindled love for something that dominated my childhood.
and i feel good, i think. about the way i've gone about it. i think the version of me that bought crusty and dusty falling to pieces books off of etsy and sat there highlighting things would be proud that this is the way we take it, and i think the 15 year old version of me that realised he was trans and threw everything away would be proud too.
and i think that's how i justify it.
am i making myself proud with this? am i proud of how i went about this, and will i be proud when everything unfolds and we see the harm reach it's peak? will i be proud of what i did to Try?
and i think that's the big question to be asking ourselves.
(and in terms of one post, i have a PDF powerpoint here that explains a Bit, but - not to just promote myself lmao but who's reading all of this actually - i will be releasing three episodes of my podcast this week ALLL about jkr! (1) things in the books (2) twitter, political action, robert galbraith books and (3) fandom responsibility - and that third one will contain everything. for now at least. it's constantly changing but for now, it will include everything we need to do to keep this space safe and comfortable and as ethical as possible)
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dreamlandxrunaway · 1 year ago
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it has been... a while since I posted anything on here... and tbh it seems it'll be that way for a while. I did update 1cdat masterlist to say that it's on a hiatus... a couple of months back. I just can't put my thoughts into words, it's so annoying. I have the whole chapter planned; hell, I have the whole story planned out, it's just really hard to sit down and write everything :')
If you've read 1cdat and enjoyed it, dw, I will come back and finish it one day – I promised myself that I would actually finish it.... so the story will reach its conclusion one day... but it probably won't be this year. The way things are, I honestly doubt it will be the next year, too, but it will be done.
Although I had a lot of plans and wanted to share so many stories with our STAYs.... 1 cloudy day at the time will probably be the only one I'll post on here :)
I'm not quiting writing, I'm just probably not gonna write another ff but rather my own story, with my own characters. I have so many ideas that I hope to share with people one day :')
So yeah, a little update on my life... it sucks but hopefully things will get better :'D
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nichuuu · 2 months ago
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From Eden
Jeon Heejin x M reader
(1st instalment of De Selby)
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PSA: This shit has not seen the editing board because I'm lazy. Fell off real hard. Sorry gang.
Word count: 10k
You liked to think that your first meeting with her after all those years was a fluke. 
As it went for most people who went their separate ways at a point in their lives: there was history between you and Jeon Heejin. It was a little more choppy than you’d like to admit, but it formed the crux of your relationship and you couldn’t just ignore it. She seemed to find no qualms in forgetting what happened between the two of you. And as you caught up with her at a booth seat in some club you guys bumped into each other at, you wondered if you’d overreacted when the two of you had your falling out.
She was possibly kinda bad company for the night – not exactly a face you wanted to see three beers in and ditched by the rest of your friends cause they all got too drunk and found themselves booted from this hellhole. But at the end of the day, they all say that it’s better to be in poor company than to be alone. 
***
To whatever gods that were out there, you thanked all of them collectively for the fact that the toilet that she’d dragged you into was empty. You hoped that the cubicle door was enough to keep whatever was happening in the bathroom privy to its occupants. The music that pulsed on outside the bathroom should be enough to cover you right? 
Heejin—as usual—had no qualms about skipping past the usual formalities of intimacy. Those deft hands were on your belt faster than you could utter her name, and your cock was in her hand before you even knew it. She was gentle with you, stroking you considerately as she laid a hand on your chest. Those fingers made you tingle from the tip down, pushing you to new levels of pleasure you’d no idea you could experience. They gripped you lightly yet firmly, applying pressure at all the right spots to make your toes curl in your shoes and your muscles tense throughout your body. You could only wonder: did she know what she was doing to you? Or was she just getting really lucky. However sordid this situation was, it felt right to you… and maybe to her as well.
“Jesus Heejin”--your hissing through your teeth. It sounds a little more aggressive than you’d like, but you know she’d have no qualms about it anyway–“you sure know your way around a dick.”
The smirk on her face was snitching on the fact that she definitely knew what she was doing. She leaned in, flushing herself against your chest while she continued to deliver languid strokes to the rock hard meat in her hand. “Thanks… He loves a nice handjob from time to time, though I always imagine myself giving it to you instead of him to get into it..”
You summoned the strength to look into her eyes – really gaze deep into those lustful, beautiful orbs she’d been blessed with. Past the want and need, there was an undeniable look of sincerity she held, a wordless soulful confession to you that she had always fantasised you in place of her ‘lover’. It drove you to push a little further, “and what are you thinking about now that I’m actually the one you’re giving it to?”
Heejin thought about it for a moment, almost as if she had a million and one answers that could express her carnal desires. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her to actually harbour a million and one answers. She was always a wild thinker in many aspects. She was also diligent, and that translated into the way her hand hadn’t stopped moving throughout the eternity (it was shorter than that, but it sure felt like it) she took to produce a congenial answer. 
“Now that you’re actually here,” she finally answered, making sure to hit you with a smile that blurred the distinct line between sweet and sultry, “I’m thinking about how good you’re gonna fill me with this pretty, thick cock.”
“Pretty?” you couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d heard and read of many ways that people described dicks, but never in your life would you ever expect the word ‘pretty’ to be amongst that mix. Heejin giggled – one of mischief and ‘know-it-all’ energy. It’s pretty – her grip around you tightened, squeezing you with pleasurable force as her movements quickened almost in sync with your breathing – because I like the way it feels in my hand… and I know that this cock is gonna be better than anything that he’ll ever give me. 
She stopped, putting a jarring halt to the pleasure that surged through your system. Her hand on your chest snaked up to your cheek – a sweet action that almost took the pure filth out of the words that followed. “I want you to fuck me–no, own me.”
It felt almost like a command in the way that you immediately wanted to fulfill her request. Her thumb traces circles on your face; her speech only gets filthier, “fuck me like I’m yours. Make me cum so hard that I forget all about him.”
You found yourself back in control of the part of your brain that controls the facilities of your speech and movement. You gingery held the wrist that was delivering those soft strokes of heaven just moments ago and pulled her hand off your throbbing shaft. As much as you’d love to have her jerk you off, there were more pressing matters at hand – namely the situation of her clothing and the fact that it was still on her. You wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close.
“Heejin darling,” you whispered, relishing the way she shivered as your warm breath made contact with her ear. “I can’t do much if you still have all of these damned clothes on.”
She quickly recognised the game that you were playing and was eager to match you step-for-step. She held your gaze as she hooked a finger into the top of the tube top that adorned that wonderful figure and—rather enthusiastically—pulled it down. The nipple covers were quickly discarded and her small, perky breasts caught your gaze. Judging from her smile, she loved that you were staring. 
“You’re nice”, she told you, moving some hair out her face like you were looking there of all places. “He’s always commanding me: take off your clothes, do this, do that… I could get very used to you.”
You couldn’t help but smile a little. Her constant comparison of you and the man she was supposed to be loving was making you feel a little better about yourself (even though you knew that was far from the intended effect). You’d like to return the favour; you began running kisses down her body – starting from her lips before making your way down to her collarbone. Her shuddering sighs told you that you were doing something right, and you endeavored to keep up your performance for the rest of… Well… Whatever this session was.
“God… you’re fucking perfect, you know?” you informed her, wondering if she ever knew how much you adored that body of hers. Yes, you were more wholesome at a younger age – looking at her soft features and dorky personality to decide that you liked her. However, innocence never stopped you from stealing a glance or two at her ass when she wore tight jeans or a quick look at her slim figure whenever she wore anything that hugged her body like a glove. You’d never know if she ever caught you looking, but now you’re glad she knows that you are giving her your fullest attention (it was hard not to really).
You weren’t sure if her cheeks were flushing because of your comment or if she was just getting turned on. Either way, she still had remarks to deliver, “perfect is a little strong, but I’ll take the comment because I’m just so humble.”
Mischief was and would always be her idiosyncrasy.
A creak made both of you freeze. Female voices filled the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of heels clacking against the floor as your little getaway location was patronised by unwelcome guests. 
“Ugh… This damned contact lens is not coming out,” an identified voice carped. It sounded like the woman who said it was just in front of the stall that you were in. Judging from the slight look of annoyance that crossed Heejin’s face, you deduced that those were fellow bridesmaids who were in there together with you. With the same expression lingering on her soft features, she reached down and unclasped her jeans. She unzipped them slightly before pulling them down – past the delightful curve of her waist and till they were halfway down her supple thighs.
“Do you need help?” another voice rings out. Heels striked against the floor as another female occupant moved to join the scene; Heejin moved to grab you by the cock and pull you closer (as if the two of you weren’t already skin to skin in that stall).
“Fuck me now,” she hissed, an almost angry look filling her eyes. It was like she was being fuelled by the annoyance that stemmed from the presence of her fellow bridesmaids – using it as an excuse to quickly get filled with cock and have it pumping in and out of her within the next few seconds or so. She was lucky that you were taught to never keep a girl waiting.
Your movements are quick and firm; grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Her gasp was telling of her surprise towards your sudden movements, but the grin that followed when she turned halfway around to you to watch as you pulled down her underwear told you that she liked how things were moving. Never in your life would you have imagined this: you and Jeon Heejin – each of you half naked in your own respects in a bathroom stall while people chatted freely beyond the wall of the stall. If the teenage version of yourself ever found out about this, you didn’t know how he’d respond.
Your right hand snaked down towards her crotch, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the slick wetness that could very well be running down the inside of her thigh. You could always check, but you liked to imagine. You took your shaft in your right hand. She bent slightly at the waist, her hands pressed against the white wall of the stall. The rest of her tight frame joined her hands soon after you parted the wet lips of her cunt and hilted yourself inside of her. 
Her insides felt like a warm embrace – better than you could’ve ever imagined it to be. It felt like a perfect fit; the throbbing meat within her walls filled her perfectly and felt every small movement the flesh could ever register. To call it heavenly would be downplaying the sheer pleasure she was bringing just by letting you be inside of her. Jeon Heejin felt like something unreal, unfathomable. You doubted that your hastily crafted description of her sweet wet cunt could allow one to process this taste of heaven.
Heejin let out a sharp gasp – loud enough for only the two of you to hear and loud enough for you to know that she too was unprepared for this new experience. From the way the muscles on her back tensed as her walls tightened around you, it felt as if her body was welcoming you. It was almost like she was subconsciously pulling you closer, deeper. You could get very used to this.
You revel in it a little, take in the feelings, the new sensation; the sound of the intentional soft breaths that the two of you were taking. This was certainly a novelty for you, and if you were being very honest with yourself: the events that led up to this moment felt a little too much like a fever dream. You half expected yourself to wake up in the next few seconds, or maybe—
“What are you waiting for?”–of course. It had to be her to really cement the fact that this whole thing was actually real. Sure, it’s inconceivable; but no imaginative power of yours could ever replicate the sarcasm (splashed with hunger) behind her voice, nor could you visualise the smouldering look in her eyes as she bit her lip–“your dick is in me. Do something with it.”
It felt like a challenge. She knew damn well that you always took up her challenges.
Withdrawing yourself from the warmth of her slick, you took a moment to cast your gaze downward. You appreciate the sight of your shaft glistening in her juices for a moment—and only a moment. There were pressing matters at hand—before thrusting back into her and reacquainting yourself with the warmth of her walls. You’d have loved to get into this slowly; unfortunately, Heejin chose the worst possible place to get it on. You’d have to live with her choices (and this isn’t exactly new for you).
And as a third voice joins the fray outside your stall—I think I have some eye drops here. Maybe that could help?—you began pumping yourself in and out of her, slow and controlled with full strokes that filled her to the brim. The voices continued to fill the bathroom as the three anonymous patrons struggled with one of their lenses; you struggled to keep yourself together inside of Heejin’s hot wet cunt. 
“F-Fuck yes,” she hissed. Don’t worry, it was soft. Or you could just be too absorbed by the delightful sound of wet squelching as your shaft appears and disappears between her legs to notice that she may be a tad loud. Even if it was, the trouble outside was enough to keep the other three  “I can’t believe I’m finally getting this dick. God… You’re so… Oh my god.”
It humoured you to see her in this state, though laughing at her would be the pot calling the kettle black; you yourself were trying to hold on to something tangible—that wasn’t her waist cause hot damn was your grip on it doing a number on you. Counterintuitive, but hot nonetheless—to keep you grounded in your senses. Slip up and you’d be dealing with the risk of being found in a girl’s bathroom. 
“Jesus Heejin”–you were trying your best to throw in some dirty talk. It would help to spice things up if it weren’t for the fact that your own words were failing you. Your mind was almost completely consumed by the warm squeeze of her pussy, the small twitches of her walls as you drilled yourself into her tight frame like you were slowly nailing a painting onto the wall of the cramped stall. Actually, you were nailing a painting to the wall of the stall: the way her body moved and responded to your thrusts could easily be considered fine art in your books; her body could be considered a canvas given its pale complexion and its smooth surface. Heejin was an art piece herself – a complicated mix of emotions that could take the place of colour and a mind so complex that no composition could ever capture its essence. Good god… You were hooked on this girl–”you have no idea how fucking good you feel around my cock.”
To be clear: from the moment you started fucking her, she hadn’t turned back to face the wall. This whole time she’d been facing you – eyes smoking under the fire of passion and her mouth slightly parted as if her soft moans and sighs were keeping them permanently open. Simply put – she was hot. If you were to discard the complications behind the sex, one could easily classify this as plain, passionate and simple fucking (in a highly risky scenario that could jeopardize both of your reputations, mainly Heejin’s) between two people who have longed for each other. But the plainness of that sounded unappealing to you; the enthralling fact about this was the complexity of the situation – the thrill behind the immorality of it and the sheer risk behind satisfying your own desires. As she gasped when your hands found purchase in her soft breasts, you wondered if she had the same thoughts running through your head as you (though from the looks of it, she was purely enjoying the sex and probably leaving her thoughts behind. Words fail in times like these – you’d be one to know).
Her voice is unsteady as she hissed through her teeth—harder. Fucking give it to me like I’m yours—to perversely request for more than what you were giving her. To see her this uncouth enthralled you to no end. With one hand on her left tit, you moved to secure her hair in a bunch in your other hand. Her hair was a little far from silky—no doubt from all the dye that it’d seen—but it provided friction for you to grip onto her strands with ease as you decreased the intervals between your thrusts. The sound of wet squelching began to permeate the stall, and it was starting to be accompanied by the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin as you struggled to control your desires to rail the girl before you. Thankfully, the cries of victory from the women outside masked the unsavoury sounds.
“Thank god!” one of them, presumably the one who had their contact lens stuck. You’d affectionately refer to them as ‘Eyes’. “I thought it’d be in there forever. Thanks guys.”
“No worries”, another chimed. It was the second voice you heard when all of them entered. She’d be ‘Two’. “Normally you could take this to Heejin. She’d get you fixed up in a flash.”
“Really?” the third asked. You’ll call her ‘Three’. “Do idols get their contacts stuck a lot?”
“Probably,” Eyes mused, “all that dancing on stage probably isn’t suited for glasses, and who knows what type of contacts their stylists have them on.”
Heejin catched your gaze. Struggling to control her breathing, she managed to confirm Eye’s statement—she’s… kinda right. Oh fuck…—before you pulled back firmly on her hair to shut her mouth. Don’t be mistaken: you loved her personality and all, but now really wasn’t the time for it to shine. For good measure, you sealed her lips with a kiss – sloppy and clumsy and hurried. You squeezed her breast a little harder. 
“Where is she anyway?” Three asked. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go talk to that friend of hers…”
A tongue click of disapproval could be heard. You could imagine that it was followed by a tongue wave of dismissal from the way Two commented, “leave her be. She rarely gets to get out of her schedule. Probably trying to catch up with some old friends or something…”
There was a hum of agreement; Heejin moaned straight into your mouth as you captured her nipple between your fingers and squeezed. If the women outside knew how Heejin was ‘catching up’ with you, you didn’t know how they’d react to the sight of her being fucked raw in a bathroom stall meters away from them. You didn’t know how she was getting away with this, but you weren’t exactly complaining. If it wasn’t for understanding bridesmaids, you wouldn't be able to make a wet mess out of her. Maybe you’d thank them later, but you’d decide on that after you were done with Heejin.
“Was that the guy she was talking about the other day?” Two inquired. You had no idea what she looked like, and it scared you a little that she’d seen your face.
There was a moment of pause before Eyes quipped, “what guy?”
Silence followed Eyes’ question. For a second, you were worried that they’d all picked up on the lewd sounds of you fucking the very girl that they were speaking of. You held your breath, but you didn’t stop pumping your shaft between Heejin’s legs. She was almost like a lifeline – a slick and wet and oh-so-hot one that was keeping grounded in your senses while hooking to the sensation of the slick thrusts inside her pussy. Miracle drug… Or maybe just a drug – either way: Heejin was everything to you right now. Listening in on their conversation was just so that you wouldn’t be found during your few minutes in heaven.
“Nevermind. I think I wasn’t supposed to talk about that,” Two muttered. “Let’s get out of here before someone spikes our drink or something.”
They began discussing more mundane things, and you couldn’t care less about them because all that really mattered was the fact that their voices were fading away. You waited till you heard the sound of the creaky door closing to relinquish Heejin’s lips from your possession. She let out a gasp of air, followed by a desperate cry – loud and pleading now that she had the freedom to speak.
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” she hissed. It was almost a snarl really. “Cum with me. Please.”
She was lucky that you: a) had a really big soft spot for her and; b) knew better than to turn a nice girl down.
With a grunt, the hand on her breast shoots to her throat, gripping it tightly as you frantically fuck Heejin to catch up with her imminent orgasm. She was into it, reciprocating by accompanying your hand on her throat and squeezing even tighter. She lets strained cries tumble from her mouth—Oh yes baby… I’m yours. Oh fuck… Oh my fucking god… You’re gonna make me cum so hard—her wells squeezing tighter and tighter around you. Husky was her voice as she pleaded with you to take your liberties—Fucking cum anywhere you like. I just want to be yours—with her, and she was practically shaking in your grasp as you drove yourself closer and closer to the point of no return inside her wet tight walls. Everything – your heart and soul and whatever – pointed you towards making a huge mess out of the women in your arms, and you endeavoured to achieve that goal one way or another.
The tingling at the base of your cock was steadily growing up your shaft. Your thoughts blurred together, nullifying and cancelling each other out till all you could think of was her. With every pump into her, you told yourself that she was yours to take. With every sigh that left her lips, you thought about how many times she pictured this moment in her head. With each gasp and sigh and moan and cry, you fought the urge to hiss through your teeth—Heejin, I love you so much—and admit your feelings for her and how much you’ve missed her touch; tell her how no one made you feel like she could; let her know that for all these years, you’d longed to reconnect with her and sort things out once and for all. Sweet thoughts; perverse desires. The latter wins – all that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”
And it happened. A little quicker than you’d have liked but there was no way to control the course that the lust of man would take you down. Your cock pops out of Heejin’s heat, glistening with her slick wetness as you pump yourself to completion with your free hand. The hand on Heejin’s throat was pulled down to her crotch, and she used your fingers to rub the swollen nub of her clit as the first ropes of semen shot out and landed on her lower back. She came as the second rope landed on the swell of her left ass cheek, and her knees buckled as the third and fourth spurts hit the fabric of her tube top and the right side of her lower back respectively. You lost track of the rest of your load as Heejin leaned against you, quaking as her orgasm struck her in waves and your load continued to streak her back. It all was so fast. You wondered how either you managed to process your actions in the moment. 
She panted against you, sweaty and spent as she closed her eyes and caught her breath. Your dick stayed flushed against the small of her back, slick with a mix of fluids from you and her. Your hand at her crotch slowly rubs circles into her clit, easing her off her peak and giving you something else to focus on other than how beautiful she looked. You feared that if you stared too long, you’d say something that you didn’t want her to know. The last thing you wanted was to have that moment of intimacy—facilitated by the afterglow of really good sex—to be ruined by some stupid feelings.
“Hey,” she whispered – all soft and tender as she opened her eyes to stare up at you. “That was fucking incredible.”
You managed a chuckle, restraining the urge to kiss her where she stood. She smiled, reached up to cup your cheek as you stared deep into her eyes. For a moment, the world went silent for you and her.
Then she pulled you down to her, kissed you where she stood. The position was a little awkward, your noses bumping each other at odd spots on your faces as she let the sweet nectar that was her lips grace your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, different from the kiss you’d given her in the midst of fucking her. It felt so right, so tender.
She released your lips with a soft smack, positively glowing as she gazed into your eyes for a little bit longer. 
“Keep this between us,” she whispered, “I love you. I always have.”
***
You stared blankly at her. It was all you could do really.
“What part of this can’t you understand?” she asked. The anger behind her voice was potent, palpable. “I have a boyfriend. Stay away.”
In your hand, the note that you’d plan to hand her felt a little lighter than it had when you first approached. Wishful thinking had you delusional; there was no chance that she would ever go to that dance with you. 
You thought that maybe the friendship could coax her into it – that maybe the years of what almost felt like kinship would drive her to just hear you out for a little bit; yet you seemed to forget that love is blind and can cloud your judgement.
In a moment, it felt like everything you’d built with her had turned to ashes.
***
“Indulge me Heejin. Bring me through your thought process.”
On the bed of your apartment, Heejin tosses her phone aside. Languidly, she flips onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as her elbow dents the pillow. 
“I know,” she mutters, a little bit shamefully if you might add. “Dating another guy to make you jealous and confess is a classic fanfiction folly and all… But I was desperate.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You know that we could’ve just… talked, right?”
Her lips form a line. She sighs and lets her head flop back onto the pillow with a bit of a thump. To be very clear: you aren’t asking her all these questions to guilt trip her into an apology. You are genuinely curious to understand how she was thinking at the period in your lives. It’s a good point of reflection for the both of you considering you both screwed up in one way or another, and maybe even a good chance to offload some emotional baggage. You’ll admit – finding out that she’d dated the guy she was currently with just to get you to run to her and confess your love in highschool was a bit of a shocking discovery. It was foolish, yes… But you wondered why Heejin of all women would resort to such methods. She could be awfully blunt when she wanted to be, and somehow even more blunt when she was telling you that you looked like shit in skinny jeans. You never knew as one to shy away from a confrontation when necessary, and even though she could be a bit of a big dork, she was emotionally aware enough to understand that communication would easily have settled your feelings for each other.
Heejin rolls in the bed, moving close to you so that she can throw an arm around you as she asks, “you’re not mad right?”
“No. Just curious,” you tell her truthfully. She’s silent for a moment, then she looks you in the eyes and opens up: I always meant to talk to you about it. When I heard from Haesul that you liked me I… I was just ecstatic. You were everything I wanted in a man, and I really just wanted to make you mine. Believe me when I say that I wanted to just run to you after the school bell rang and tell you that I loved you too… and maybe ask you out on a date the next weekend.
Her thumb traces circles on your back. You can tell that she’s being sincere from the way she never shies from your gaze. She continues, “but as I’m running to your class down the hall… This guy comes up to me and just tells me that he’s been crushing on me for years and wants to date me. I want to tell him ‘no’ on the spot. I really did. But I see an opportunity to… I dunno… Spice things up a little.”
And you can guess the rest of the story, but you just want to hear her say it just to be sure. Sure enough, she tells you the exact line that you predicted out of her—one thing led to another and then… well, here we are—and you can’t help but chuckle. The whole thing is pretty damn foolish to be honest, and you recognise the fact that if you’d just acted a little less rashly, maybe you wouldn’t have had to go down the path that you did. It’s a folly of the past but it does bring some shame to your present.
“I’m sorry”—she surprises you with this one. You assumed that you guys are past the stage of reconciliation at this point. I mean… You did fuck in a bathroom before she texted you after the wedding she was attending, so it would be kinda right to just conclude that you guys pre-fired the make-up sex—“I was rash and stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologising again?” you ask her, “I thought we were through with the sob ‘sorry’s and what-nots.”
“Just for good measure,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes as she shifts around in your bed a little. “You can never be too careful when it comes to these types of things. Don’t want to make you an enemy again, do I?”
“That wouldn’t be too bad,” you reason, albeit playful rather than serious. She recognises that and scoffs as you continue, “they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“So what I’m hearing is: you’d stay for the hate sex,” she fires back. You smile.
“Not quite… But somewhat.”
Heejin sighs and slaps your leg. You secretly like pissing her off a little, but she didn’t need to know. 
“Now mister,” she says, hijacking the course of the conversation. “Indulge me and bring me through your thought process, and this isn’t about highschool by the way.”
She presses herself up against you, and you feel her hand slide down your torso and to your crotch.
“Tell me,” she whispers, a bit of smoky sultriness sneaking its way into her voice. “Why are you so fucking hard?”
It’s here that you realise that you’ve kinda walked into a trap. Not that what’s about to proceed is bad or anything, but it’s just that you’re a little disappointed that you hadn’t spotted this a little earlier. There were signs that you ignored when you saw her in your bed – namely the fact that she was wearing a see-through sleeveless dress that had a plunging neckline. If that wasn’t enough, she was blatantly playing with herself when you walked in, staring at her phone with this blanked out expression while her fingers worked between her thighs. If it weren’t for your questions about her relationship decisions, the two of you would probably have been naked and sweating in your bed right now. 
“Can I guy not be excited by a pretty girl?” you’re not trying to play innocent, but you are seeing how far it can get you in this situation just for fun.
“Not this guy.” Heejin’s fingers snake around your cock, gripping it lightly through your pants. “And definitely not when it comes to this girl.”
You chuckle softly and catch her hand at your crotch. You pull it away and lean in to whisper into her ear, “don’t worry Heejin. I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re wearing the easiest thing for me to fuck you in.”
Her eyes brighten. “So you did notice…”
And the kiss that follows is far from tame really. You’re at fault for this one since you initiated it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you from keeping your hands to yourself as you reach down and locate her pussy. Okay wait, you’re making it sound like it took you some effort to find it when you really only took about a second; it’s really easy considering that the panties she’s wearing were so sheer and thin that you could hardly consider it underwear. It was probably more like a concept of clothing than an actual, tangible thing. And her dress? The hem was a lot shorter than it looked. She probably hiked it up or something.
You’re unsurprised by the slick wetness of her cunt practically dripping out of her at this juncture. She’s probably been holding it in for a while now – suppressing all that lust and hunger to talk about feelings for some 30 minutes before she finally gets the chance to let loose on you. Hats off to her really: she had more control than you’d credit her for.
“Fuck baby,” you whisper, latheing your fingers in her juices by dipping them in between her undoubtedly flushed lips. “So wet for me already.”
“Wetter than I’ll ever be for him,” she sighs, almost breathlessly as she shuts her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers getting familiar with her warm cunt. “You should—mmph… you should be grateful that I’m actually attracted to you.”
“I feel honoured.” you’re being genuine with her, but right now it comes off more as a sarcastic passing comment that leans towards the more tame side of dirty talk. Either way, anything you say would probably end with her putting your dick into one—or maybe all—of her holes and using it to her liking. Not that you’re complaining or anything, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There’s no stopping Heejin’s desire, and there really isn’t a point to trying to stop it. You’d be missing out on, like, a lot. “Though, no pressure, I’d be more honoured if you actually did something about that attraction.”
She smiles, borderline sadistic and a bit more enthusiastic than you’re used to. Her hands are deft as she quickly undoes the knot that keeps your sweatpants around your waist, pulls it off eagerly and makes quick work of your boxers. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing as she slides out of bed to discard her dress. In record time, she’s between your legs and stroking your shaft with patient strokes of her hand. The cheeky comments that you had beforehand quickly sank back down your chest – replaced by an earthy groan that only Heejin was capable of drawing out of you. 
“You know… I was doing a bit of thinking,” she tells you.
“You do a lot of that.”
Heejin has no comments, only a cheeky little grin as she breathes warm air onto the tip of your cock. It makes you shudder, surging pleasure through your veins down to your bones. She’s oddly good at making you squirm, and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.
“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed by what she’d just done to you. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to suggest that maybe I could cross out one of my fantasies today.”
You’re no stranger to her wild thoughts that could probably fight that of Sabrina Carpenter. As you’d recently found out: fucking in a bathroom stall was one of many wild fantasies that she’d been wanting to cross out. Now that she had you, she’d been busy crossing more and more of them out. The whole infidelity thing was already a major part of her list considering the fact that she’s doing it with you instead of her ‘official’ partner, and things only get wilder from there. Sex with her can sometimes be like exposure therapy, not that you’ve done it before or anything. 
“And which one are we ruling out today?” you inquire, watching with great interest as she produces her phone from below the mattress and swipes through it eagerly. You never saw her grab the damn thing, but you figured that you were probably too preoccupied with the sight of her undressing to take notice. By the way: the entire time that the two of you had been talking? Yeah, she’s been stroking you through all of that. One can only imagine how you were feeling at the moment.
When you saw her phone, you thought that she was going to open her notes app and start looking through her kinks or something. Nothing prepares you for the sound of a dial tone, and you can only watch as she lays the phone next to your thigh, just out of your reach. 
“No prizes for guessing who I’m calling,” she grins, almost too innocently for your taste. “Try not to make too much noise okay?”
And before anything can be said, she slacks her jaw and draws you into the warm wet depths of her mouth. 
The dial tone only continues as Heejin goes still – adjusting to your size and length and taste and shape and whatever she needs to configure herself to. Frankly: if she’d just started sucking you off with that tight seal around your cock, you would’ve been in perdition in mere seconds after she starts. So you give a small thanks to whoever’s watching over you from up above, and you pray that the person on the other end of the line doesn't pick up. While you utter that silent prayer, Heejin’s tongue introduces itself to your tip, sliding almost gracefully over the head of your cock as her phone rings for the nth time. Another ring; her tongue flattens itself against the base of your dick and melts itself to the surface. You grit your teeth, fearful that the moment you make a sound, the other party would pick up and hear it. She slides up in a fluid motion, almost perfectly seamless if she hadn’t gone too far up too fast. Your cock ends up hitting her in the chin, and she smiles as if it were some cute thing that she was taking care of. 
“Heejin,” you grunt, keeping an eye on the phone screen in fear for both of your lives. “Let’s not—”
The caller chooses that moment to pick up, and this is where the game starts. Your lips shut so fast it feels almost automatic, and Heejin tears her eyes away from yours to focus on the other player of this perverse game. 
“Hi baby,” she greets her ‘lover’, all sweet and cute like she isn’t pumping your saliva-slick shaft in her hand as she calls him a pet name. “I was missing you, so I called.”
“Oh… I’m kinda busy now.” he sounds highly uninterested in her, tone dull and dry as Heejin takes a moment to give your cock a squeeze. “Can you call me back another time?”
For a moment, you’re ecstatic. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be subject to her games this time. 
“Quick chat. Promise,” Heejin fires back. She smiles wickedly, relishing the look on your face as you stare at her in a mix of shock and horror. “Just tell me about your day so far. It’s so hard to wait for you to get home to tell me about your day.”
There’s a moment of silence. Heejin takes advantage of the situation; she puts you back into her mouth and makes quick, sloppy work of your cock. The sound of slurping and gurgling is almost deafening, and there’s no way in hell that this man on the other side of the phone was not hearing all of this as Heejin blew you. You tilt your head back, clenching your teeth to prevent the guttural groan that’s building up deep within your chest from escaping your body. You’re hoping deep breaths of air can fill the space – block the desire to cry out in pleasure at the cusp of being translated into phonetics.
“Fine.” you’re almost grateful to hear that dull voice. “I’ve just been doing some filing and some paperwork… Nothing much really.” 
“Mhm,” Heejin mumbles, your cock still in her mouth. She frees it for a second to deliver a line—that sounds like super important work babe—that’s definitely sarcastic in her head and in concept, but masterfully manipulated to sound sincere and enthusiastic. “Anything else?”
“Uh… No.”
Heejin seems almost too gleeful between your legs. “Great. I’ll give you a quick run-down of my day then.”
She proceeds to give him utter bullshit, lying through her teeth about lazing around in her dorm and eating yoghurt. All the while she’s lazily delivering firm pumps to your cock, the sound of her spit squelching in her own hand a little too loud for your liking. Then she starts twisting, and you feel as if all hell is breaking loose inside of you. Your throat is pricked with the sharp gasps that are fighting to be let out of your mouth, skin tingling with the effervescence of pleasure racing through just about every vein in your body. You’re certain you have a knuckle-white grip on your sheets as uses her thumb to rub against the underside of your slit while her other fingers pull the skin around your head tight to keep the sensitive part of you exposed to her impending assault. 
“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, and you’re wondering what other lies she’s capable of generating right now. “I got a call from my old friend that I met at the club before the wedding… He says he wants to be my personal photographer.”
And now you’re shocked and stunned. What was a passing joke yesterday is now being used against you in a way that you can’t even fathom. Heejin revels in the silence—and all the emotions that could possibly be engendered by that single statement—as she smiles and licks you from base to tip. The layer of saliva around your cock thickens, and she uses that to get more aggressive with her motions. You didn’t know if she has limits to her cruelty, and you really hope that she’s reaching it soon. 
“You know how I feel about that guy…” he begins.
“I know, I know… I’m just telling you to keep you in the know.”—her dismissal of his worries is quick and almost genuine if it weren’t for the fact that she was going against his wishes while she assuages his worries—”wouldn’t want to fight with you again, would I?”
He grunts in agreement. “Stay away from him baby. He’s bad company.”
“Yeah,” she hums, locking eyes with you as she hovers her mouth over your tip. She gives it a swipe of her tongue, smiling as you grimace under the pressure that shoots up from your crotch. “He’s such a bad guy…”
Not that you’re into this or anything, but hearing that drawl—sinful and sultry; raunchy and earthy—made your breath hitch a little. Sure, you’re no stranger to Heejin’s sensual side; but this was a bit of her that you had yet to experience. It felt like she’d dug up a new side to her, something unearthed and unaired, and you’ll be the only one to see it. She could take your breath away in many ways and you’d just found another.
The man on the other end grunts once more. With a gruff “Alright. I’ll text you later”, he hangs up on Heejin, leaving you free to let out the breath that you’d been holding in up till that point. 
“Isn’t he a bundle of sunshine?” Heejin drops the facade almost instantly, using the hand that wasn’t occupied with your cock to retrieve her phone. “Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds… Huh. That’s longer than most of our calls.”
You can only pant and watch as she giggles and tosses her phone aside. She crawls back up the bed and takes your lips into hers, and you’d like to think that it’s a sweet apology for the hell she’d just put you through. Deep down you know it wasn’t, but you’re in the mood for some wishful thinking after what you went through.
“Not sure if I’m being greedy here,” Heejin whispers, “but I’d like you to indulge me just a little more…”
“I’d like to hear this one through first,” you quickly request, because no way in hell were you about to live through those 5 minutes and 27 seconds for a second time. “Can’t let you bite off more than you can chew.”
Heejin laughs, fully aware where this was coming from. 
“Don’t worry. I think you’ll like this one,” she assures you, placing a hand on your chest for good measure. “Hand on my heart, honest-to-god: you’ll love this one as much as the next guy.”
You couldn’t help it. You had to check her – match her step for step.
“Considering that I just saw you lie through your teeth, I think it’s fair to say that I don’t quite trust you,” you tell her as plainly as you can. And it’s not that you actually don’t, but more so the fact that you’re just baiting her into saying something really raunchy that’ll rile the two of you up to no end. Depravity is the root of really good sex after all.
“I promise you,” her lips tilt at an angle as she smiles, “when we're done with this one, I’ll let you cum in my mouth.”
***
You figured that she’d come to you with the news at some point – tell you that he’d found her out and that things are gonna happen and blah blah. What you didn’t expect was for her to show up in the middle of the night to be a bearer of bad news.
“Went back to get a sweater that I’d forgotten,” Heejin’s explaining, a can of beer in her hand and fry in the other. “Open the door and next thing I know, the fucker’s blowing up on me in my face.”
She takes a swig and sighs. “Never liked him anyway… We fought more than we talked. Before you ask, make-up sex was horrible.”
You can only frown and nod in sympathy. You’re complicit in this whole ordeal and so don’t have much of a say in this thing. Guilty as charged, red-handed and whatever. You’re just glad that he didn't come over and beat you up like she said he would. Heejin downs the rest of the beer in the can in a gulp and gently places it on your table.
“Is anything gonna happen to you?” you can’t help but ask out of concern. 
Her smile assures you a little, but her words don’t, “honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out if my publicist gives me hell tomorrow.”
She rises from her seat. “I’m just glad it’s over,” she says. “Don’t know how much longer I could’ve lived with that dry son of a bitch.”
Her sweater comes off her body. She tosses it at you. In her T-shirt, she struts towards the bedroom, stops in the doorway. With a look over her shoulder, she beckons you to join her—come make my night, would ya?—before slipping into the room.
Always a dance with her.
***
You’re starting to question where Heejin draws the line between her sex life and her regular life. 
(You’ve said this about a thousand times by now, but) Not that you’re carping or whatever, it’s just that sex on the kitchen counter while your instant noodles are clearly being overdone in the pot a few meters away is a bit of a safety hazard. You’re no chef, but bubble frothing out of a closed pot really isn’t a good sign.
“Heejin,” you say, struggling to fit her name between the ragged breaths and frantic thrusts. 
“I know,” she rasps in reply. “Ngh… We can… Turn it off later. I’m so close.”
Pretty solid reasoning in your opinion.
How you got into this situation is a bit more complicated that you’d care to explain, but let’s just say that a late night snack can quickly turn into a literal fuck-fest when Jeon Heejin palmed the shape of your boner as you put a pack of instant noodles into a boiling pot. You didn’t know what came over you really, but after the noodles went in and the pot lid was closed, you had her propped up on the counter and her panties around her ankles. You can figure out how you got to this point. 
Okay: to be fair to Heejin, you did kinda start this whole situation that might just put your lives on the line. You’re the perpetrator, criminal mastermind; yada-yada. But if you were to consider the technicalities, she did aggravate you to fuck her, and by so virtue of that you’re kinda both at fault. Does it make sense? Great, cause a situation where you’re both a little dirty minded makes for really great sex. 
Great… Now you just explained the complicated situation. Eh, who’s exempt from a little contradiction now and then. Anyway… Where were you?
“Oh my fucking god.” she’s moaning a lot louder than usual, loud enough to probably convert her voice into some sort of energy for the homeless or something. Between her thighs lay a wet mess that was the source of all this crying and keening, and your juice slicked cock is the thing that’s driving her wild with ecstasy as she wraps her legs around your waist and pulls you deeper into each thrust with her legs. “Fuck me harder please. I need to cum all over your pretty cock so badly I–”
She barely has it in her to finish her sentence. Her plea is truncated by a sharp cry, and it would be pretty funny if it weren’t for the fact that it's probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. The cry is almost delicate, fragile to the ear and almost like sweet music that plays in the dark. The keyword here is ‘almost’. Your description rings true, but the fact that she’s such a needy little bitch right now kind of ruins it. ‘Ruin’ is a little heavy handed; ‘taint’ would be a better word. 
Yeah… Her want taints the beauty behind her desire… But only a little.
“I’m cumming”—Heejin’s practically whimpering at this rate. God you’d have quite the mess to clean up later—”I’m fucking cumming on your cock daddy I–Oh… Oh god oh fuck.”
“Fucking cum,” you hiss, saliva flying past your teeth and maybe onto her ear. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Give me a nice and tight pussy to cum inside of.”
It feels weird, dirty even, referring to Heejin as a slut, but her reaction tells you she likes it. She loves being called your slut. You can see her mouth agape, tongue sticking out a little. She can barely keep her eyes open as the pleasure courses through her. Her nails dig into your back, and you think she might be drawing blood, but the pain doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters is the sight before you.
She cums hard, and you know this because her walls clamp down on you like a vice. If you could, you would have taken a picture. The sight is just that amazing, but you're also preoccupied. The pressure is just right. The rhythmic pulsing of her walls against your throbbing cock is too much for you to take. Your hips stutter to a stop as you release a deep moan, and she gasps as she’s filled with rope after rope of hot cum.
When you finally come down from your high, Heejin is still panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut, and legs still wrapped around your waist. You can't hold back the little smile that crosses your face as you watch her catch her breath. She looks so peaceful. It's hard to imagine her as a girl with the dirtiest mouth you've ever heard. 
She peeks an eye open to see you staring.
“The pot dummy,” she reminds you, and the horrors of reality come crashing back all at once.
***
So you do find a little bit of a charm behind really soggy Buldak in the wee hours of the night. It’s not the best thing you’ve tasted, but it had its appeal. The sauce helped to mask the depression in the sad, close-to-slimy strands of dough in your bowls, though it didn’t stop you from experiencing a new texture that was severely overcooked noodles.
“Still think we could’ve left it in a little longer,” Heejin muses, staring at the limp noodle trapped between her chopsticks. “Maybe from there we could reverse-engineer the noodle and re-cook it.”
“Yea. And maybe we don’t fuck when there’s clearly a four minute limit to this stuff,” you add befor slurping up the last few spicy, sad and soggy strands in your bowl. 
“Hey. I’m pretty sure the sex was good enough to offset this abomination,” she huffs, setting down her bowl next to yours. “Besides… We’re kinda both in the wrong this time. It’s not always just me you know?”
“Never said it was your fault.” you’re admiring the way her eyes glow in the dim light. At the right angle, it looked like the light was filling her pupils in the most adorable way. “You’re just inferring shit from a passing statement.”
“Wonder where I picked that up from…” she fired back, though it felt much more like she was conceding defeat than challenging further provocation. It was always a dance with her: unpredictable patterns in constant motion, and all you can do is follow her lead.
Maybe one day you’d find the time - make up for the dance you lost and dance with her for real.
Hi. Kinda posting here again because my therapist said that it was good for me to continue writing to regulate my emotions. This one is kinda messy and unedited cause I just wanted to get this out here for funsies. Anyway, I won't be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will drop by from time to time. No promises that I'm gonna be incredibly active and no promises that I won't disappear of the face of the earth again.
Cheers, Nichu
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lokidjarin-7567 · 2 months ago
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The Prophecy
Viktor x You When the friend of your youth, Viktor, sees you still living in the Undercity, and working in a strip club at that, he is determined to reconnect, and rekindle a childhood friendship that was rooted in something more. Contents: fem!reader, fluff, angst and smut all in one folks, 18+ MDNI, a few physical features described but still reader insert I think (hair colour and freckles), both Viktor and you POVs, long-ass one shot 8.1k words Taglist: @night-fall-moon @zsuzsu321 @sh1zhu @circeinspace @casualjagodek @retrokatz @am-3-thyst @xlittlemissydjx @sseleniaa @thefandomsfervent Hi guys, thanks for bearing with my while I've been working on this one!! I have been absolutely obsessed with this man ever since I finished Arcane, so I just had to write something about him! I also think a lot of people mischaracterise him, so I tried really hard to get his personality right - let me know if I actually have lol. Anyone who knows my works knows how slutty my smut can get lol, but this is actually quite tender so a new one for me too. Anyway, I'll stop waffling now, I hope you enjoy. TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3
DISCLAIMER: while this, in my opinion, is still classified as an ‘x you’ fic, a few physical features are described, namely ‘you’ having burgundy red hair that is, at one point, described as curly and having freckles, alongside a handful of super vague descriptors (eg. fluttering eyelashes, slope of her nose AKA things that can be applied to any and all faces) - basically everyone in the Arcane show has cool hair so I thought this would be a cute detail. It’s possible to ignore if you don’t want to think about have a different hair colour, but if you don’t want to, don’t read it! Almost every comment on this fic has been relating to this which, when I put hours of hard work and effort into something that I was proud of, is insanely demoralising. There has always been a disclaimer in the contents above, but I’m adding it here as well so it’s as clear as possible. Dead dove do not eat and all that. And I’m always open to constructive criticism, but there’s a way to go about it, and a way that will put someone in a slump for months, so please think before you comment! Anyway, not to put a downer before the work, thank you for the reposts and loves so far ❤️
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Viktor was lost in thought as he made his way back to Piltover, small tube of Shimmer tucked away in his satchel. He didn’t know what to do. Using it might stabilise the Hexcore, allowing it to keep the plants alive and accomplish everything he and Jayce had been working towards for years, maybe even curing this sickness that had taken over him, or…
Or it could end horribly.
The undercity was as dark and unpleasant as he remembered it. He had never fit in here in his youth - too scrawny, too bookish, and with his leg, he stood no chance. And now was no different.
The neon store signs stood out against the blackened buildings and muddy streets. This part of the city, deep in the underbelly of Zaun, seemed busier than the rest, roads bustling with call girls and salesmen and tourists from Topside taking their pick of unruly establishments. Hundreds of voices layered atop each other in a cacophony of harsh laughter, garish music and argumentative tones. There was barely space to walk, especially with his cane, and he was starting to wonder if this journey was even worth it.
Then something caught his eye. A flash of red, deep and vibrant, moving towards him on the far side of the lane. It was hair, bouncy and curly and his subconscious told him it was shorter than it should’ve been, but it was a colour he knew. Her face wasn’t one he could place at first, but as she got closer, he saw the freckles that smattered across her nose like a constellation, her pink lips that were perpetually curled into a soft frown, her eyes that she always accentuated with brown liner. It was her.
The only friend of his youth. A young girl who used to sit behind the foliage near the water where he tested his inventions. She was shy, even shyer than he used to be, too scared to ask him anything about what he was making for a long time, just watching with curious eyes. But he would never forget the day she moved closer. The way her long, burgundy locks flowed around her, almost touching the floor, the way she was trying her best to be confident, but there was a soft shake in her hand, and a slight stutter as she said hello. Then she produced a small invention of her own - a submarine, the same colour as her hair, designed to float perfectly so the periscope was the only thing that peeked out from the surface.
For years, they were inseparable. She was more artistic than him, always adding a flair to her designs that he didn’t have, so he’d let her ‘improve’ his too. They would play together, and then as they got older, build together, each creation more daring and experimental. And then they started to drift apart. They were in their mid teens when her mother got sick, and she couldn’t make it out as much. Viktor always offered to help, but she refused, not even allowing him to see where she lived. And so, when Professor Heimerdinger found him and offered him an opportunity to be his assistant, he couldn’t even tell her. He left a note, delicately placed under a rock where they would build together, telling her where to find him and how to get in touch, but he never heard anything.
And now here she was. He called out her name softly, not wanting to alarm her in this hostile city, but she didn’t hear. She’d walked past him now, so he turned, following but she was walking fast, faster than he could manage. He called out again, but it wasn’t until then that he noticed the headphones over her ears. She couldn’t hear a thing. He carried on, hoping she would stop but she didn’t. If it was anyone else, he would’ve gone home, given up, but now he’d caught a glimpse of her, he had to see her. To talk to her. To find out why she never got in touch. To apologise for leaving her behind.
She disappeared from view for a moment, and he panicked, thinking he’d lost her again, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, entering an alley beside a row of bars and clubs. He grimaced, following her to see the red locks just moving out of sight again, and a bouncer closing the door behind her. He tried to follow her into the building, but the man stopped him.
“Please…” he asked, out of breath, “it’s an old friend, I need to see her…”
“Staff entrance only, pal. You’ll have to go ‘round the front like everyone else.”
“But… she’s right there… I only need one moment, if she just saw me…” The words died on his lips. Would she even recognise you?
“Don’t make me ask you twice.”
It was dark inside the club, the lights low apart from on the stage and around the bar. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was near full of lowlifes just starting their evenings, sloshing their drinks and talking loudly. The neon from outside carried into this space too, strip lights around the platforms accentuating their presence. There were dancers atop each of them, but he averted his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here. This was so far from his comfort zone, loud and unruly, a long way away from his lab, but he had to see her. He couldn’t let her go again.
He found a stool by the bar, ordering a soda and waiting for her to start her shift. There was no way he could miss her again if he was right here when she started.
And then he saw her at the very edge of his vision, as though his eyes were programmed to search her out in any crowd. She was on stage, cherry red hair glowing in the soft lights, combined with the neon from below making her look like a ghost, ethereal. What was she doing up there?
***
“Afternoon, Joey.” You muttered to the bouncer, and he opened the door for you wordlessly as you slipped off your headphones, replacing your perfectly selected playlist with the sleazy music of the club. Just one of the many reasons you hated working here. You were running late, as per, throwing your things in your locker and quickly changing. Lacing up your shoes always took the longest time, and you barely even had a chance to check yourself in the mirror when you were finished. Your hair looked perfect at least, the naturally burgundy curls sitting at shoulder length. You missed the long hair of your youth, but it become impractical very quickly, and the memories it held… you ended up cutting it all off soon after your mum died. That was when you started working here too. You’d had dreams, of course you did, but growing up in the Undercity made it almost impossible to follow them. There were worse places to work though - for the most part, the patrons were respectful, and everyone who you worked with was kind, but it was still a strip club. At the end of the day, no little girl wanted to be an exotic dancer when they grew up. At least it just about paid the bills.
You had been put on a long shift today - late afternoon until the early hours. You didn’t mind though; it was exhausting, but more time meant more tips. And you needed the money. You were saving, slowly but surely. One day, it would be enough.
These shifts always started slow. Not many tips this early in the day. Not enough drunks - they were all too willing to part with their money, an exploit you knew how to use. After a while on stage, it was your turn to make your way into the crowd. You started away from the bar, smiling at a few, a couple of words of flirtation thrown around, but no one was loose enough for anything else yet. There was something different about the energy today though. You felt… exposed, on display, more than usual. Self conscious in a way you hadn’t been since your first week. By the time you got to the bar, you were already feeling frustrated at the lack of interest. But your favourite coworker was pouring the drinks tonight, and she had one ready for you already.
“Thanks, Katie” You crooned, knocking back the shot quickly and she immediately offered to refill - something you gratefully accepted.
“Thought you might need it. Slow start?”
“Yeah, not the best day so far.” You took your second, thanking her again, when you heard a voice call out your name. Your real name. It made you start, whipping your head around to find the source. You didn’t use that name here. You were expecting to see an ex, or an old boss, but instead you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in years.
His eyes hadn’t changed. Kind but tired, amber in colour and glowing like whiskey in sunlight. The curve of his nose was the same, the curl of his lips, the small moles like points on a map - one beneath his right eye and the other to the left of his lip. There was a cane tucked beside his stool, and he was dressed well. Too well to be in this part of town. A uniform of some sort, something a Topsider would wear: blue shirt accented with a cream ascot and waistcoat. It suited him.
As soon as you saw him, every fond memory of your childhood rushed back to you like a river. The gentleness when he explained his creations to you. His willingness when you asked if you could paint them pretty colours, or add cute designs. The way he held you as you cried about your mum falling ill. How quickly he offered you support, and how quickly you turned him down. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you regretted that choice as soon as he stopped showing up to your usual spot. You kept going for months before you gave up, still trying to find him. The last time you visited was to scatter your mum’s ashes - your stories of Viktor’s designs and the beautiful creek where you tested them out together being one of the last things that brought her comfort.
And now, he was here.
He’d made it out. He’d made it Topside. And you’d only fallen further down.
If there was one person you never wanted to see you like this, it was him. He was the only slither of your youth and innocence left, the only soul in the whole of Runeterra who knew the true version of yourself, the first version of yourself. The version you actually liked. And now, he had to see this. You couldn’t tell what you were feeling. Every emotion was vying for attention: joy, nostalgia, anger, envy…
He repeated your name in a questioning tone, and you realised you’d been staring at him, the rollercoaster of emotions you just went on likely visible on your face.
“Do you know him, darling? Or shall I grab Joe?” Katie asked from behind the bar, staring him down with a protective look. Viktor opened his mouth to speak, indignant look on his face, but you answered for him, never once being able to tear your eyes from him.
“Yeah I… cover for me? If anyone asks, he got a dance.”
“Of course.” Viktor’s gaze had returned you, confused, and you just muttered a ‘come on’, signalling him to follow you, and you lead him across the floor to one of the private rooms. They weren’t exactly the nicest places to talk, the whole room painted a hideous deep purple, a weirdly-shaped black velvet sofa the only thing to sit on. As soon as you closed the door, turning around to see the soft look on his face, every drop of anger seeped from you, replaced with relief. Relief that he was alive. Relief that he had done something with his life. Relief that you hadn’t lost him forever.
You couldn’t help it but let the tears fall as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tight.
***
He was surprised by her warm welcome. After all these years, he had always imagined she would resent him, but here she was, face pressed to his chest as she hugged him, tears falling onto his shirt. He didn’t even have to think about it, one arm naturally surrounding her as she cried, keeping her close, while the other held firm to his cane, ensuring it was stable for the both of them. He never wanted to let her go again.
She eventually pulled away though, wiping her tears with the shy smile he remembered so well.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.. on your fancy Topside shirt too.” She laughed nervously, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I… um, I imagined bumping into you one day, finding you again, but I never thought I would be dressed like this.” He finally let himself glance down at her when he said that, to take her in completely, safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t meeting his eyes. She looked beautiful - a black two-peice set, solid silk on the areas that counted, but the frills and accents were a sheer lace, stockings too, glittering beads woven into the delicate material. Even if the environment didn’t suit her, somehow the clothes still did, the same style he’d seen her develop in her teenage years. Simple in colour, beautiful in design - the cunning of her inventor’s mind applied to her other passion.
“What are you doing here, Viktor?” She sat down on the awkward sofa, curling her legs up onto it, and he followed suit, resting his cane against the arm.
“I could ask you the same thing.” It fell from his lips before he could stop it, and he winced, expecting her to be offended, but she just smiled sadly.
“You got out.” She stated as a shrouded question, ignoring his quip, and he nodded. He could explain, he should, but not yet.
“And you never wrote me.” He responded.
“Write you? Viktor, I didn’t know where you were.” She never got your letter.
“I left you a note by the creek. You never got it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve found you somehow, or…”
“It’s ok, Vik.” She shuffled closer on the loveseat, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. Hearing the name she used to call him sent a pang of pain to his heart. This is what he had been missing out on all these years, all because of a stupid letter. “If I was in your shoes, I’d have done the same. Besides, I never let you see where I lived, or anything else about me. And when mum… I fell off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t have let you in no matter how hard you tried.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know.”
***
You spent a long time asking about his life now. He was working in the academy, partners with Piltover’s favourite researcher, helping to create the HexTech that kept the whole city afloat… he had changed the fucking world. And you were… here. Still.
He said your name softly, as though trying to broach a subject carefully and you knew what was coming. You had seen the query floating in his eyes since the moment he saw you.
“What are you doing working here? I mean, you’re brilliant, more so than me, and yet…”
“I’m still stuck in the Lanes?” You sighed.
“Well, yes.” You’d never once thought of him as ignorant. Maybe he’d been living Topside for too long.
“I never got my break. You deserved what you got, of course you did, and you’re the smartest person I know, Viktor, but that doesn’t change the fact that you got lucky. And it’s not the same here as when we were kids. Sure, things weren’t great then, but now… There are no jobs, no money, housing is insanely competitive even though most of it is disgusting.. it’s a vicious cycle meant to keep you in the shitter. This is what I could get. It pays my bills and lets me save a little, the other girls are nice, it’s close to my apartment…”
“But…” You knew from the look on his face what he was going to say - a long speech about how much potential you have, and how much better you could have it. You dropped his hand.
“But what?” You couldn’t help but snap, defensive over the very job that you cursed daily. “But I’m better than selling myself to sleazy drunks? You think I don’t fucking know that? You think I want to be losing my sense of self every day just so I can keep the lights on? You think it’s my dream to feel like I’m a lesser human being because I will let someone pay me to take them into this room and…” You stood up then, starting to pace as silent tears fell. You never let yourself think about any part of your life longer than you had to. Not pondering on it was the only thing keeping you alive.
“You know I wasn’t saying that…”
“I know I’m sorry… I just…”
“I know… I know…” He stood up then too, wrapping you in his arms and letting you cry. Again. You felt so stupid. “I missed you.” He whispered, face nestled into your hair, barely audible.
“I missed you too.” The tender moment didn’t last for long though, as a sharp knock on the door startled you, jumping away from him and wiping your eyes.
“Vikki?” Joey’s voice called out, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You ok in there?” You put on your smiley voice, cooing back to him.
“Yeah, all good Joe, got a paying customer in here...”
“You got it, doll.” You heard him walk away, and turned back to see Viktor looking at you, head cocked, small smirk playing across his features.
“What?” You asked with a shy smile, wiping away the last of your tears.
“Vikki?” Oh.
“Well I couldn’t exactly use my real name.” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but giggle too. “That does mean we’ve been in here too long though, I should…”
“Yeah, no of course…” he moved to open the door, grabbing his cane, but you stopped him quickly, pressing your hand against the door frame.
“One second…” He frowned as you reached towards him, but he didn’t move, just watched curiously as you took your time unknotting his ascot. Once it was off, you unbuttoned a few of his buttons, trying to ruffle his shirt a little, make it look like you had actually been doing your job rather than talking to an old friend. “There…” you muttered quietly, realising he’d shuffled a little closer to you as you worked, and now his lips were only a breath away. He was looking at you so intently, as though there was something he wanted to say, but he never spoke, just gazed at you in a way that made your heart swell. Your hands lingered on his chest, comforted by the warmth and solidness of him. A reassurance that he was real and here. You didn’t want to move.
“Please, don’t go anywhere just yet…” you muttered, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
***
She had been backstage for a while now, muttering something about trying to move her shifts around. She came back beaming, and it was infectious, a smile he was trying to fight taking over his own face just at the sight of her.
“Ok, if you’re busy tonight, or you have plans, you can tell me to piss off…”
“Never.” She blushed in response, her wide smile spreading further as she spoke, and he was helplessly drawn to her, eyes scanning her face intently.
“Well, someone came in early for their shift, but someone else is running late… anyway, our schedule is a mess, but good news is I only have to stay for another hour and then I’m free so… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to grab some food and catch up? Unless you have somewhere else to be…” She still sounded so shy, so unsure - the same habit she had when she was young, babbling when she was nervous. He was finding it hard to connect the dots in his mind: the timid person before him now, the girl he used to know, and the dancer on that stage, full of bravado and confidence.
“That sounds wonderful.” The joy in her face was intoxicating, and he watched as relief visibly washed over her body.
“Ok, brilliant.” She spun away for just a moment, trying to track down the bartender she seemed to know well. “Katie, he’s with me, ok? Send him back in like an hour, and his drinks are on my tab.” He tried to protest, but she rested a hand on his shoulder, quickly silencing him. “I insist. It’s the least I can do, considering how long you have to wait around.” Again, he tried to tell her didn’t mind, that he’d wait as long as she needed, anything for her, but she was gone already, slipping into the crowd, his shoulder cold where her hand had been. He sighed, turning back towards the bar on his stool, taking another sip of his soda.
“That’s our Vikki…” Katie mused, slicing a few garnishes behind the bar. “Never accepting that somebody else would want to do something for her.” He let out a dry laugh, half at the name, half in agreement.
“That sounds like her.” A beat of silence passed between them. The club was starting to fill up, but it wasn’t too rowdy yet, and nobody else was at the bar, all relying on bottle service and shot girls instead.
“Drink?” He shook his head politely. “How do you know her?” Katie asked, staying busy but obviously trying to snoop. He didn’t mind. She was a topic he didn’t mind talking about.
“Childhood friend. I haven’t seen her in… a very long time.” Her eyebrow shot up at that.
“What was your name, by the way?”
“Viktor.” A look of surprise flitted across her face.
“Ohh.” She drawled knowingly, smiling at herself as she continued to wedge limes.
“What?”
“I’ve heard of you, that’s all. Her childhood love who disappeared on her while her mother was dying…”
“You don’t know the whole story…” He snapped back quickly. He might hate himself for what happened, but he felt the need to defend his choices. It had turned out well for him, he just wished he could’ve found her. Taken her with him. Their life could’ve been so different. Katie chuckled, continuing her tasks.
“Oh trust me, I do. She’s very quick to defend you, you know. You can do no wrong in her eyes…”
“Not so sure about that…” As he muttered to himself, something she’d said suddenly hit him. Her childhood love…“Actually, on second thought, I will grab a drink please, whatever she usually has. But don’t put it on her tab…”
“I wasn’t planning on it, Topsider.” She saluted mockingly with a smile.
Two down and that was all he was having, just needing something to take the edge off after Katie’s admission. All those years wasted, because you thought childhood love was stupid and pointless. And now, seeing her again, you still love her as much as you did back then…
Katie was on her break, so he twisted in his seat, trying to find her in the crowd. She had never been difficult for him to spot, everything about her so familiar to him, and this time, she was centre stage, which made it even easier. Every part of him was screaming to turn away, to not taint his view of her, but he was instantly transfixed. She danced so fluidly, so gracefully. Every movement she made was purposeful and poised. However much she hated her job, she took pride in it. He was a scientist, sure, but she was a creator, through and through.
***
You were finally finished, and you were exhausted. Even though it wasn’t even half a usual shift, seeing Viktor, all the memories it brought back, it had been so emotionally draining.
You were grateful that the changing area was empty. It wasn’t the usual shift time, and no one ever came here on their break, so at least Viktor wouldn’t have to deal with that. You almost laughed at the thought.
There was a gentle knock, and his voice sent a flutter straight to your heart.
“Vikki?” He called out mockingly, and you laughed at the way he’d latched on to your new name. It was inspired by him, after all. “Are you decent?”
“Yes, you can come in.” You were looking good, if you said so yourself. The fashion and the opportunity you were afforded to express yourself in that way was one of the few things you did like about this place. You’d tried to incorporate the shapes and designs of your ‘work attire’ into a more Lanes-friendly outfit, layering a black organza shirt over the lacy bodice, beading shining through the sheer fabric, pairing it with a bubble skirt and knee high boots, just the right height to allow your stockings to peek from the top. There was only one item that wasn’t black; his neckerchief that you had taken earlier was now around your own collar, tied in a dainty bow. He grinned as soon as he laid his eyes on it, striding towards you and gently holding the hemmed edge between his fingers.
“I guess I’m not getting this back, huh.”
“Never.” He shrugged.
“I’m ok with that.” God, the way he looked at you. It made you melt without fail, warm flush spreading across your cheeks.
“Are you ready to go?” You muttered, eyes still glued to his, honey tones making you feel as though you were stuck in them. A fly trapped in amber, resigned to its fate.
“I’m ready when you are.”
You’d decided you were going to cook for him tonight instead of taking him out. The places near you either weren’t nice enough, or they knew you for the wrong reasons. Besides, you wanted to show him your place. To show him that, even though you were still here, you had done everything you could to make the best of it, to continue learning and inventing and developing yourself.
That did mean you had to stop by the store, though. Which meant bumping into Angel. He and Viktor would not get on.
You had grabbed Viktor’s arm as soon as you left the club, a habit from the times Joey had walked you home, knowing that you were safer beside a man than by yourself. Even though the Undercity was bustling tonight, there was something so soothing about being here with him. A nostalgia warming you from the inside out. He let you guide him into the shop below your apartment, chatting absentmindedly about nothing and everything, when a smooth voice stopped yoou in your tracks.
“Not so fast, Vikki…” You groaned, turning back the few steps you had made into the entrance.
“Hey Angel.” You cooed, although it felt wrong falling into your usual flirtatious routine when Viktor was right behind you. He was working behind the counter today, thumbing through the till. His long dreadlocks were down, grey peeking through his beard, wide grin as his eyes traced over you, following your arm to where it joined the man next to you.
“Is that a nickname, or…” Viktor muttered, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you responded.
“No, Vik, this is my landlord Angel…”
“Landlord, huh? Thought I was more than that, sugar…” He leaned across the counter, shit-eating smile on his face, clearing noticing and enjoying the fact he was winding up your new companion. Viktor scowled, moving a step closer to you.
“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, old man…” You sent him a wink, and he laughed, the booming noise of it always making you smile. “What have you got in that’s fresh? I’m actually cooking tonight…”
You chatted a little longer, grabbing what Angel recommended and some wine, before heading upstairs via the back of the shop. Viktor was still scowling slightly as you were unlocking your door, and you laughed lightly, nudging him with the bag of shopping.
“What?” He huffed.
“I don’t like that guy.” He grumbled, feeling smug that you had called it.
“He’s my landlord, Vik, and a friend. He’s a good guy, don’t worry.” He just shrugged as you finally got the door open, and you thanked the stars that you had remembered to tidy last night, or else it would be a complete tip. There were still remnants from your busy morning scattered all around the studio: scrap pieces of fabric and thread strewn across the kitchen table, the half-finished neglige you were constructing laid over the back of one of the chairs, the cogs and pieces of machinery lie abandoned next to your sewing machine in the wake of the modifications you were trying to make so it could handle more delicate material. The space itself was dark in colour, olive and navy washing the walls, brown leather sofa and black countertops marking their territory in the small apartment, the stain-glass screen in front of your bed the only splash of jewel toned colour. You could feel Viktor’s curiosity at the place, and as he stepped further into it, a smile settled onto his lips.
“It’s so very… you.” He said, and in any other intonation, it would’ve sounded like a bad thing, but when he said it, full of adoration.. it was a compliment of the highest order.
***
She was mesmerising as she cooked, twirling in the kitchen to her carefully selected vinyl, a wide smile on her face as she tested what she was making. He wanted to help but she wouldn’t let him, batting him away and telling him to sit down, and for now, he had obliged. But, as much as he wanted to help her always, right now, he just wanted to be close.
“At least let me pour the wine?” He said, already standing to help, and she huffed, but didn't object. Instead, she handed him the corkscrew and the bottle wordlessly. He smiled, leaning against the counter and continuing to watch her as she stirred. She was always so chaotic when she was creating, something evidenced by the near bomb-site on her kitchen table. It was just so… her. Everything about her apartment was as well, such a perfect and beautiful representation of everything she was, every tiny detail of her life and personality reflected in the space she lived in. The colours, the soft furnishings, the bookshelves lining the wall behind her bed. Then, he noticed something about the stain glass screen that separated the room, soft light from her bedside lamp washing through it and creating a blue ripple across the floor like a stream. It was of their place, their creek. It was abstract, sure, but he would recognise it anywhere. The way certain rocks jutted out, the colours of it all, the small boat floating in the still glass water.
“Did you make that?” He asked earnestly, and she briefly glanced up from the stove to see what he was looking at.
“Yeah, I've been trying out a lot of different hobbies actually, things to keep me busy when I’m not working. That was one of my favourites…”
“It’s beautiful.” She smiled sadly, focusing her attention back to the pan.
“It reminds me of you.”
He poured them both a glass, and she gratefully accepted.
“It’s nearly finished, just a few more… oh I meant to ask earlier…” Her mind was such a beautiful thing, the speed at which it moved so captivating, not even time to finish her own thought before starting another, “why were you even here today? In the Undercity, in my club… I just never thought I’d see you back here by choice.”
“I was visiting an old friend, a quandary about a new gadget Jayce and I are working on, but…” He was going to say something about it, ask her opinion on whether he should follow Doctor Reveck’s advice, what he should do next, but he decided against it. “He didn’t have any insights.”
“Maybe I can help?”
“No, I…” She looked hurt at the speed the word left his mouth, almost recoiling and turning back to her cooking with a frown. “I mean that you probably could, but I don’t want to taint tonight by talking about a project that has been frustrating me for weeks. Another time though, of course I would appreciate your insight.” She sighed in relief, smile flitting back across her face. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer, humming as she did, a flurry of breathtaking movement as she dipped it into the sauce, spinning back around and holding it up to him.
“Taste?” She asked, the look on her face so hopeful it melted him, her joy infectious. But underneath all of it, he couldn't help but notice the cracks: the bags under her eyes, the tiredness set into them, the subtle shake of her hand. But he just smiled, enveloping her hand in his and bringing the spoon to his lips.
“It’s perfect.”
“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” She looked proud nonetheless, spinning back away from him and he was left to watch again, heart swelling. He wanted this. Cooking with her, drinking wine in the kitchen to her favourite record, letting her order him around. He wanted the… intimacy of it. The domesticity. The realisation of it ached. You could’ve had this. All these years without her, all these years wasted. Precious time that you no longer have to spare. If you’d have just waited, just taken more time to find her, insisted on helping her even…
“It’s ready!” She exclaimed, presenting a plate with a wide grin, and every stress, every regret simultaneously melted away and intensified, a pit forming in his stomach.
“It looks wonderful.”
***
You had eaten, and you were both now on your second glass of wine. You felt closer to him with every single second, drawn to every word he said like moth to a flame. At some point in the evening, you’d moved to the floor, backs to the sofa, as you looked through some of your old sketches you had found. The conversation lulled momentarily, a faraway look in his eyes, and you realised how close you had gotten. Your elbow was leaning on the sofa, supporting your head with your body twisted to face him, knee pressing against his thigh. You moved your head forwards to glance at the sketchbook, and your hand fell, resting on his shoulder. A stillness fell over him at the touch, and he smiled sadly to himself.
“I think you should come back with me.” He stated with finality, and you froze.
“What do you…”
“I think you should come back to Piltover.” He closed the book, placing it gently on the low coffee table. He was serious. “Help Jayce and I with our projects. Let me teach you about HexTech.”
“Vik, I don’t exactly have any actual experience. I don’t have an education. I can’t afford to live Topside…”
“You can live with me.” He said it so simply, like it was so obvious. Of course you would love that. Now you’d seen him again, you didn’t want to be apart from him but… “Professor Heimerdinger can give you lessons, but you have the mind already. There are certain things that can’t be taught. You have the passion, the skill, the creativity…”
“But…” You weren’t trying to pick apart his plan, but it felt terrifying. Even though it was everything you had ever wanted, it felt so far fetched. Like a fever dream. It didn’t feel like your life, your future.
“No, I… I lost you once, I can’t do it again.”
“Vik…” He grabbed your hand that was resting by his shoulder, and you felt yourself relax into his touch. He turned head to meet your eyes, sadness creeping into them.
“I don’t have much time left.” The finality of his statement shocked you, and you couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Did he have somewhere else to be? Oh god, you’d already kept him here too long…
“What do you mean, time left?”
“I’m dying.” It felt like somebody had punched you in the gut, all the air in your lungs gone.
“You’re…”
“Dying.” He repeated factually, and your heart sank further into your stomach. “And if we don’t… Jayce and I are working on something that might help, but if it doesn’t, I need someone I trust to take over from me.”
“Viktor, hold on, I need to think…” Your mind was racing, and you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around everything, hands running through your hair. He was dying. He wanted you to move Topside. He wanted you to work with him. To take over his life’s work. “It’s been years. I haven’t seen you in years and now you want me to… now you trust me to…”
“Of course.” He muttered, speaking your name softly to get your attention, hand gently wiping your face where tears had fallen without you noticing. “You’re everything to me, you always have been. There’s nothing I wouldn’t trust you with.” His hand was still resting on your face, and as you searched his eyes, you saw something else. Something pleading, something that echoed the feeling bouncing around in your heart. It would be hard. It would take a long time to settle in, to learn the ropes, to feel like you belonged. But it was your dream. To help change the world. And if he didn't have long, there was no chance you were wasting any of your time left with him.
“Ok.” You answered nodding, and you watched a smile take over his face, heart swelling at the sight.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… Vik, you’re offering me my dreams on a silver platter, and on top of it all, I get to be…” You nearly slipped, about to say be with you but you knew that was a lot. That you had only just reunited and to spring the whole I’ve loved you since I was 10 and I’ve never loved a soul since thing on him might ruin the dream that he’s just given you. But, fuck, you wanted to kiss him right now. “I get to work with you again.. there would have to be one hell of a catch for me to say no to that.”
“The whole dying thing isn’t too much of a problem then?” He asked with a slight smile, trying to hide a genuine fear beneath a joke.
“Oh, honey, knowing that we don’t have another decade of time to lose… I’m not letting you slip through my fingers this time.” His hand felt so natural resting against your cheek you’d forgotten it was there until it moved to cup the base of your neck, thumb drawing gentle lines across your jaw. His amber eyes were searching your features, looking for anything to indicate that you were unsure, but your resolve shone through, and you could see the moment he realised this was going to work, relief flooding through them.
Then, before you could process what was happening, his hand gently guided you forward until your lips brushed against his—light as a feather. For a moment, you couldn't believe he had just kissed you, that it was real. But as you met those pleading honey eyes, everything else faded away. Every doubt, every regret, every sliver of worry vanished, replaced by such overwhelming care and love that you felt you might burst. Your body gave in without conscious thought, melting into his arms as you kissed him. His hands drifted to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. You couldn't get close enough, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. His fingers traced down your body until they reached your hips, pulling you over him. A soft giggle escaped into his mouth as you swung your leg over his, settling onto his lap. When he finally broke for breath, you found yourself chasing his lips, panting into the space between you with a wide smile.
His lips found yours again, this time with more urgency, more need. Your hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, steadying yourself as his grip on your hips tightened. The feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his mouth. He smiled against your lips, one hand moving to cup your face while the other remained firmly at your waist.
"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered against your mouth, voice rough with emotion. You could only nod in response, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being in his arms after all these years.
The record had long since stopped playing, leaving only the sound of your shared breaths and racing hearts in the quiet apartment. His thumb traced gentle circles on your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, full of warmth and something deeper, something that had been there all along. Something that you had been too blinded by insecurity to notice earlier. Something that you knew all too well, reflected in your own heart. You pressed your lips to the mole on his cheek, and the one beside his mouth, a small smirk playing across his features as you did.
“I still can’t quite believe this is happening.” You muttered softly against his cheek, and he sighed, thumb dancing across your lips.
You eventually found yourselves entwined on your bed, limbs tangled in soft cotton sheets, his back pressed firmly against your sturdy wooden headboard as you rocked onto him with gentle, deliberate movements. Each subtle shift of your hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your breath catch. You panted softly into his mouth as his strong, careful hands helped guide your every motion, his touch both grounding and electrifying. The overwhelming need to be closer drove you to pull him tighter against you, your arms wrapping securely around his shoulders until there wasn't even a whisper of space between your bodies. Your chest pressed firmly to his, feeling his rapid heartbeat matching yours, as your head naturally found its place in the crook of his neck. You pressed feather-light kisses against the sensitive skin, tasting the salt and breathing in his familiar scent. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming - so intense, so raw, so perfectly natural - and you found yourself climbing toward your peak faster than you ever had before, your body responding to his every touch as if it had been waiting for this moment forever. You whined softly into his skin as pleasure built within you, each movement bliss, and he responded with a groan as he pressed his lips tenderly to your temple.
"That feels so good, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice coarse with desire, and your hips instinctively bucked harder against him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you. His meticulous fingers traced teasing patterns across your hipbones before finding their way between your bodies, circling your sensitive clit with perfectly measured pressure that made your toes curl. His other hand gently cupped your chin, drawing you back until your eyes met his, gilded with desire but still so full of tenderness. His lips ghosted across yours before he pressed his forehead to your own, releasing your face and returning his hand to your hip, guiding you once more. You could feel yourself fluttering around him as your pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his eyes rolled back, a broken groan escaping his lips and filling the charged space between you. The coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter as you approached your climax, desperately seeking more of him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that swallowed the stream of desperate moans spilling from both your lips. When your release finally crashed over you, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced - all the pressure, all the built-up desperation exploded like a supernova and pure, white-hot ecstasy consumed every nerve ending, every thought, every sensation except the feeling of him inside you and against you. He followed shortly after, gasping your name like a prayer against your skin as his own pleasure overtook him, his lips finding purchase on your neck as he shuddered through his release. In that moment, it was perfection, hearing him, feeling him, everything you had ever dreamed of and more. But as you came down from your shared bliss, you couldn't quite silence the intruding thought lurking at the edges of your consciousness - that you wouldn’t have him for long.
***
She looked so peaceful curled against him, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of his chest as if she belonged there, her beautiful red hair fanning out like a fiery halo in the dim light. Her beauty was staggering - the gentle slope of her nose, the delicate arch of her brows, the soft curve of her lips - and he couldn't help but trace each feature with his fingertips, mapping the geography of her face with tender precision. She sighed contentedly in her sleep at his touch, unconsciously pressing closer to him, one hand curling loosely in the fabric of his sheets that lay across them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this complete, this profoundly at peace, as if all the jagged pieces of his life had suddenly aligned. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, committing every detail to memory - the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the subtle flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips curved slightly downwards even in sleep. He wanted to capture this moment, to carry it with him always like a talisman, a protection. A reminder that he would do anything to preserve her peace of mind. To make her happy.
The soft amber from the bedside lamp caught in her hair and painted her skin in warm honey tones, making her look almost otherworldly in her beauty, an ethereal being who had chosen, inexplicably, to be with him. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, before letting his own eyes drift closed. Despite everything - the illness creeping through his veins, the uncertainty that clouded their future like a torrential storm on the horizon - right now, everything felt exactly as it should be.
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wasitforrevenge · 1 year ago
Text
oh sweetheart
pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au
word count: 1.9k
rating: 18+
warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)
summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.
authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)
PART 1 | part 2
series masterlist <3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
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loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.
you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.
it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.
after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.
you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.
jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.
you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.
"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.
he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.
"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.
the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.
the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.
"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.
"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.
you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.
"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.
"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.
"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.
"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.
"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.
suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.
you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.
jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.
dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.
you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.
thats her.
thats the girl who saved you outside.
the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.
the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.
you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.
...5
...4
...3
...2
as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.
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rockingbytheseaside · 4 months ago
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Hi! It's me again! I'm here hoping to inspire you or simply share some thoughts and ideas!
1. What if we knew the harbingers before they became harbingers. For example when piętro was still studying to become a court mage.(At least I think that he was a court mage), or when Capitano was training to become a soldier and we were a doctor or a nurse, we knew dottore when he was a kid and so on and so forth. They believe we are long dead but surprise bitch we are still kicking. I thought that maybe in Dottores and Pantalones part we were an adeptai or simply something that lives a lot longer than humans. And surprise bitch number two we were looking for them the entire time because you know we love them. The moment they see us they think they see a ghost or something that came back to hunt them for their mistakes.
2. And my second idea is much more wholesome. We are simply a kid that adopted them as our fathers/uncles. And they don't want to get rid of us because we remind them of well them when they were kids. Imagine one day they come to a meeting with a kid hiding under there Coat and when ask they are like the meme with Spencer from Icarly with the smoothie and the ostrich.
So yeah these are my brain dead ideas and if they are interesting or something you would like to read more of I would be happy to send more
But anyway remember to take care of yourself first!
(Wha- You said piętro! The keyboard said piętro!!! Only I am allowed to misspel Pierro's name as piętro 20 times a day, dlaczego masz polską klawiaturę?!!)
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✧ I always kind of headcannoned Reader as a person capable of living many years - either because they are Khaenri'ahn, another species, or an Adeptus; it's not really up to me. Whatever intricate details people like to imagine are up to them. ✧ Imagine knowing a Harbinger centuries before they were a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps you and Pierro were apprentices to the higher sages in Khaenri'ah, spending countless times sharing secret vows before the Cataclysm separated you. Perhaps you were Capitano's first-ever formidable opponent, one who held immense respect for you as a warrior and admired your enigmatic capabilities, yearning for another battle with you. Perhaps, you knew the young boy Zandik way back in Sumeru and you are the only being left who remembers the ruby-red eyes staring at you with determined wonder. ✧ No matter the backstory or origins of the past, this Harbinger never forgot you, and despite the 500 years of separation, this person would now use all his power and intel to seek you out. Clinging to ancient memories of the past, he still yearns to see a glimpse of you. Even if it means to reach the Abyss and back, he is still seeking.
That, in my opinion, is the best trope for the Fatui fics. Even when I write about different scenarios.
✧ A wholesome Father/Uncle/Teacher Harbinger to smaller reader is just a recipe for comic chaos. You have this high and mighty Fatuus, who with a single gaze can deep his subordinates into silence, yet now this same man is running around the Zapolyarny Palace, trying to catch you because you refuse to do your homework. You will either exhaust him to death, or he will exhaust you from running away and causing shenanigans.
One way or another it ends with both of you dozing off an armchair later that evening. The Harbinger holding you in his arms, wrapped up in a comfy blanket, while he rest his weary head on his knuckles, the fireplace crackling nearby. <3 ✧ As always, lovely suggestions, my friend! I will tag you if I manifest them into fully-fledged fics. Thank you, and hope you're doing well
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cowboykento · 7 months ago
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Hey not sure if you’re still writing about CowboyNanami but I just read all of it and every single one just melts my heart!! Anyways I was wondering if you could write a little drabble of them starting a family could be sfw at first about having a conversation about wanting to finally start and then a nsfw version with a little breeding kink awakening in Nanami, obviously if you’re comfortable with it absolutely fine if not just thought I’d share my thoughts <3 Just wanted to say love your works on CowboyNanami and they are to die for!!
😭thank you very much baby i appreciate you more than words can say!! i think i am stuck (by my own brain) writing him for the rest of my life so i hope u enjoy this :3
warnings: baby making!! kind of breeding kink, discussions of having a kid, "momma" is used but not really in a kink way, lmk if i missed any warnings <3
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you’ve been married almost a year now, and you can’t help but imagine adding a kid—a baby—to the mix. kento brings in enough income from the farm that you could take enough leave from your job; the baby could spend the days inside with you while kento works and then you could all spend the evening on the porch.
for a while it just felt like a distant daydream, but the longer you spent married to kento, the longer you start to truly yearn for it.
you fought with yourself, thinking constantly about how you could bring it up to your husband. it wasn’t necessarily that you were worried he’d shut you down—he’d mentioned his enthusiasm to have a family one day more times than you—but you were worried he wouldn’t be ready now. and you felt so ready and so hopeful, you prayed kento would feel the same way.
you’d tried to bring it up a couple evenings, but the words just wouldn’t come out. you wrack your brain for subtle ways to bring it up, so that maybe you wouldn’t have to say it so directly.
you'd been trying your best to just come out with it for weeks, but the final blow to you came at kento's niece's birthday party. you knew it would be somewhat challenging for yourself, going to this party. kento's niece was just turning 2, and it didn't help that you were already so eager to have your own little one running around the farm.
of course the girl is adorable, you knew that already, but what you couldn't have expected is the way you would feel seeing kento hold his niece in his arms.
he bounces her up and down on his lap, pulling the cutest giggles out of her. he smiles fondly at her, and you swear you've never been more attracted to him than you are now.
his niece is practically glued to him the entire day, so excited to see her uncle kento after so long. you long to raise a baby with kento—you can only imagine how great of a dad he'll be.
you're quiet on the ride home. you told him you were just tired from the party, which was believable enough, but you knew that he didn't fully believe you, he knew you far too well.
still, it was up to you to break the ice. kento wouldn't force you to say anything if you didn't want to, which you always appreciated, but knew that now, it left you no choice but to finally tell him.
"can i talk to you about something?" you ask softly, lacing your fingers with his free hand.
he glances over at you quickly before turning back to the road, "of course, darlin'. everything alright?"
you take a deep breath and look at kento, even if he can't meet your eyes. maybe that's for the best, you're not sure you could manage to get it out if his gaze was pouring into you. you're barely sure you can get it out now.
"well i... i really enjoyed the party today. and it just made me think about... well, about us having a baby," you speak slowly, probing for a reaction from your husband.
his jaw tightens and his eyes widen, and you can tell he wants to turn and face you and see your expression.
"oh yeah? what about us having a baby?" he asks patiently.
your heart is still racing as he lets you fidget with his fingers in your lap.
"i think i want to start trying for a baby... if you want to, too," your voice quivers a bit.
kento stretches his hand out to envelope yours, squeezing your hand in his.
"sweetheart," he breathes, "are ya sure?"
"mhm. been thinking about it for a while," you admit, "but you really sold it at the party. you're so good with your niece."
he brings the back of your hand to his lips, "i'd love to start tryin', darlin'. 've wanted to start a family with ya for forever. you're really sure?"
"i am, kento. i really want this. i really want this with you."
he pulls up to a stop sign and pulls you in to kiss your lips quickly, but enthusiastically.
"i want this too, baby. ya wanna start tryin' when we get home?" his hand falls back down to your thigh, creeping close to the hem of your pretty sundress.
you lean across the console to press a kiss to his cheek, "yeah, let's start trying, handsome."
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you barely get through the door, your lips crashing into each other's as kento tosses his keys into the bowl, not losing his focus—you—for even a second.
his hands hold you tightly around your middle, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue licks into your mouth hungrily.
you moan into his mouth, your fingers tangled in his hair as he pushes you against the wall, hands lowering to pull your dress up.
"you want me to put a baby in ya?" he pants against your jaw, immediately reattaching his lips to your skin after the words leave his mouth. "been waitin' for ya to finally let me get ya pregnant. fuck, you'll be the best mama, won'tcha?"
he pulls your panties aside, swiping his fingers through your cunt to gather up your arousal, licking it up greedily before thumbing over your clit.
"fuck, please, ken," you squeak as he slips a finger into your pussy, gently but thoroughly preparing you for him. "please gimme a baby, want it so bad."
his lips are back on yours, tongue sucking up your pretty moans as his fingers piston in and out of you.
"i'll give ya what ya want, just like i always do," he breathes against your lips. "anything my pretty wife wants, ain't that right?"
"pleeease, ken, need you now," you moan, feeling your walls start to clench around his fingers.
he pulls them out with a pop, once again sucking the juices off of them before he lifts you off your feet without once taking his lips away from yours, and carrying you off into the bedroom.
kento lays you down on the bed lovingly, despite the passion and adrenaline passing between both of you. his hands and his lips, however, move erratically, entirely driven by kento's desire—his need—to give you a baby.
he's quick to pull your dress off, leaving you in just your panties, his shirt following quickly after. every second your lips separate from kento's you're both letting out breathless gasps of "fuck," and "love you so much."
his hands are roaming eagerly from your jaw, pulling you into loving and indulgent kisses before sliding down to squeeze your tits.
"these are gonna get all full of milk pretty soon, sweetheart," he says between sucking and kissing your neck and chest. "y're gonna be the prettiest momma, baby. fuck, my pretty, perfect wife. love ya so much, darlin'."
you reach your hands up to cup either side of his face, "i love you too, kento. so much. i want this so bad—want this with you."
kento closes the space between his lips and yours once more before kissing down your front until he gets to the waistband of your panties. he kisses your clit through the fabric, tongue poking out to prod at your damp slit.
your fingers tie into his hair once again, "kenn, i need your cock now, need you to get me pregnant now," you whine.
a grin breaks out on kento's face, and he kisses your cunt one more time before pulling away to shove his jeans and boxers down. his cock springs out, hard and leaking and you nearly whimper at the sight. you've taken him how many times? yet every time it amazes you.
kento crawls his way back over you, tongue finding yours immediately as his fingers slide your panties down your legs. you can't help clenching your thighs together, the anticipation of finally getting to try for a baby, of taking kento raw, thrilling and intimidating at the same time.
he slides himself through your dripping cunt, coating himself in your arousal. you're just about to start crying for him to fuck you when he spits on your pussy and slides his dick through it, making both of you sloppy messes.
"please ken, fuck me," you breathe against his cheek between kisses, "make me a momma."
kento lines himself up, his tip barely prodding at your entrance before kissing you with every bit of love and adoration in his heart and soul and thrusting all the way into your warm, soaking pussy.
the moan you let out come straight from your stomach as you feel your husband finally fuck you. your fingernails dig into his back when he finds his pace—slow, but deep. so deep—and plows you into the mattress.
your legs kick up hopelessly as he pounds into you, the sound of skin on skin mixing with the moans that sneak out in between kissing him.
kento keeps one hand on the side of your face so he can admire you, the other rubbing your throbbing clit.
"shit," he groans, "need to fill this little pussy, need to get you pregnant, oh my god."
you don't think you've ever heard your husband this fucked out, and it makes you just as drunk off his pleasure as well as your own. you can't even muster up any words, too lost in the overwhelming sensation kento always brings you. even so, he's on another level of aroused and sexy tonight.
"please," you hiccup out, "please, please kento, please fill me-"
he cuts you off, licking fire into your mouth as his hips start to move faster, his cock nearly punching against your cervix.
you're so close you have to fight not to squeeze your eyelids shut, too intent on seeing your handsome husband as he finally fucks a baby into you.
"c'mon, momma, cum f'r me, c'mon sweetheart, just cum 'n i'll fill you right up, fill you to the brim," he says, picking up his pace on your clit and continuing his relentless pace.
it doesn't take much more than his words to send you over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body shakes with the tremors of pleasure.
just as you're starting to come down from your high, kento makes a few final thrusts before finishing right behind you, pushing every ounce of his cum as deep as he can.
you watch his abs clench as he continues rolling his hips against yours, slowly, leisurely keeping you full, just like he promised.
you pull him down for another kiss, this one more worn out, but somehow more in love than you've ever felt.
"did so good for me, darlin'," he smiles at you, finally pulling out and laying down next to you. "always do so good for me. love ya so much, angel."
you smile back at him, "i love you too, kento. more than anything. i'm so happy we're gonna start a family."
he pulls you against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "me too, darlin'."
you snake your arms around him, looking up at him with fucked out, gorgeous eyes, "you know, we might as well get a few more tries in tonight. just so we know for sure."
he pulls you all the way up so you're straddling him, leaning just above his lips, "i think y're right, darlin'. can't be too sure."
you giggle, heart fuller than ever, as you kiss your husband.
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hai hope you enjoyed if you read this far :3 pls consider sending more cowboy!nanami asks either here or on @chuuyasboots !! okay thanks so much for reading
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hueningstar · 23 days ago
Note
Heyyy! Could you do stebro soob? I just read the Beomgyu's and I loveeee itttt! I never followed so quickly! Love your work!
Not So Sibling-Like
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Summary : You and Soobin have been living under the same roof for about a year since your parents got married. While you try to maintain a sibling-like bond, there’s a tension that neither of you can ignore.
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A/N : Heyyyy! Thank you for checking out this oneshot. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to share your thoughts after reading. Happy reading!!! :))
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Pairing : Stepbro!Soobin × Stepsis!reader
Warnings : sexual tension, nipple play, kissing, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), p in v action, soft dom soobin, loss of virginity (reader)
MDNI
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You’re studying in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the carpet while Soobin lounges on the couch behind you, scrolling through his phone. His long legs are stretched out, occasionally nudging your back.
“Can you stop doing that?” you snap, turning around to glare at him.
Soobin smirks lazily, tilting his head. “Stop doing what?”
“That!” you huff, pointing at his foot.
“Oh, this?” He nudges you again, this time more deliberately, his socked foot brushing against your lower back.
You grab a pillow and throw it at him. “You’re so annoying!”
Soobin easily catches the pillow, setting it aside. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” he teases, his voice low, the playful tone making your cheeks heat up.
“Don’t say weird things.” you mumble, turning back to your notes, but the warmth of his gaze lingers.
He leans forward, his presence suddenly overwhelming as he rests his chin on the back of your shoulder. “Why not? I think it’s fun.”
You freeze at the proximity, your breath hitching. His voice is softer now, almost a whisper. “I mean…you don’t really think of me as your brother, right?”
Your grip on your pen tightens as you struggle to find a response, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
"What are you studying anyway?" Soobin's breath ghosts across your ear as he speaks, his voice purposefully husky. His hand comes to rest on your hip, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.
You swallow hard, trying to focus on the notes in front of you, but his touch is distracting. "Just some math homework." you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Soobin's hand moves to your waist, his fingers squeezing gently.
"Math, huh?" Soobin's other hand reaches out to grab the notebook from your lap, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. He sets the notebook aside, his attention fully on you now. He turns you around to face him, his hands settling on your hips.
Your heart races as you're forced to meet his gaze, his hands holding you in place. "Soobin, what are you-" you start to ask, but he cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours in a soft, but insistent kiss.
He pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, "You always ignore me when I'm trying to talk to you about normal stuff. Maybe if I kiss you, you'll actually listen to what I have to say."
His hands tighten on your hips as he leans in again, pressing his lips to yours more forcefully this time. He parts your lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss and making it clear that he has no intention of stopping.
His hands roam upward, resting on your lower back before slowly sliding up your sides. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, murmuring, "You always wear such baggy clothes. I wonder what you're hiding underneath..."
Soobin's hands reach up to grip the hem of your shirt, his fingers curling under the fabric as he starts to lift it. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you realize he's going to see you in nothing but your underwear. "Soobin, wait-"
Soobin pauses, his eyebrows raising quizzically at your hesitation. His hands linger on the hem of your shirt, thumbs grazing your bare skin teasingly. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're shy now after all this time."
He smirks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Come on, I've seen you in a swimsuit before. This can't be any worse." His hands resume their upward motion, slowly lifting your shirt to reveal more of your torso.
Soobin's eyes widen slightly as he sees your midriff, taking in the flat stomach hidden beneath baggy clothes. He swallows hard, his smirk growing wider as he continues to lift the shirt, revealing more skin. "You... you're..."
"You're so much cuter than I imagined," Soobin finally finishes, his voice a little hoarse as he finally pulls the shirt over your head, leaving you in just your simple white bra. His hands move to your sides again, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts through the fabric.
You blush furiously at Soobin's compliment and the way he's staring at you. You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. "Soobin, wait, we shouldn't-"
Soobin ignores your protests, his fingers deftly unclasping your bra and sliding it off your shoulders. He lets out a soft gasp as he takes in the sight of your bare chest, his eyes drinking in the sight of your delicate breasts. "Fuck, you're perfect."
Soobin's hands come up to cup your breasts gently, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles around the sensitive area. He looks up at your face, seeing your flushed cheeks and closed eyes, trying to hide behind your shyness.
Soobin leans in, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the swell of your breasts. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, "Don't hide from me, sweetheart. I want to see every reaction, feel every shiver..."
Unable to resist Soobin's earnest exploration, you reluctantly open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. A soft gasp escapes your lips as his thumbs swipe across your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "S-Soobin..."
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your simple black panties, slowly pulling them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him. "You're gorgeous..." His voice is husky with desire as he looks you over. "Absolutely perfect..."
Soobin spreads your legs gently, kneeling between them. He runs his hands up your inner thighs, teasingly close to your most intimate area. He can feel your trembles, your shyness, and it only makes him want to worship you more. "Look at me."
Your legs quiver as Soobin's touch lingers just inches from your center. Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet his. The intensity in his eyes makes your breath hitch. He smirks lightly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your belly. "So soft..."
With a chuckle that tickles your skin, Soobin moves closer, his breath warm against your most sensitive area. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take good care of you..." He whispers before trailing teasing kisses along the inside of your thigh, deliberately avoiding your center.
Soobin chuckles softly, his breath tickling your skin. He leans up to capture your lips in a tender kiss, pulling back just enough to murmur, "Shh, it's okay. I'll take good care of you..."
His fingers finally reach their destination, gently parting your delicate folds. He looks up at you with unblinking eyes, his expression serious. "Have you... have you ever done this before?"
Your heart races as Soobin's touch finally finds your most sensitive spot, his fingers gently exploring your wetness. You bite your lip, hesitating before shaking your head. "No... never. You're my first." you whisper, a mix of nervousness and excitement in your voice.
Soobin's eyes widen slightly at your admission, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He looks up at you with a newfound sense of reverence, his touch becoming even gentler. "Really? I'm... I'm your first?"
You nod, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The realization that Soobin will be the first to touch you in this way, to make you feel these new sensations, sends a thrill of excitement through you. "Yes... just you."
Soobin begins slowly, his fingers working with tender precision. He alternates between gentle strokes and teasing swirls, gauging your responses. Your gasps and soft moans encourage him, making his heart race.
As Soobin continues to explore your body, you find yourself getting lost in the sensation. The feeling of his fingers inside you, the way he curls them to hit just the right spot, it's all so new and overwhelming. "Soobin... ah...!"
Soobin's breath hitches at the sound of your voice, his own arousal spiking. He can feel your tightness clenching around his fingers, the heat of your pussy enveloping him. He knows he needs to be careful, but it's getting harder to hold back.
Unable to resist any longer, Soobin leans down, replacing his fingers with his tongue. He laps at your clit, sucking gently as he slides two fingers back inside, curling them to stroke your G-spot.
Your body arches instinctively as Soobin's skilled tongue finds your most sensitive spots, waves of pleasure radiating through you like electricity. You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as incoherent moans spill from your lips.
Soobin's own breathing becomes ragged as he tastes your sweetness, the sounds of your pleasure driving him wild. He can feel you getting closer, your inner muscles fluttering around his fingers. With a final, strong suck on your clit, he sends you tumbling over the edge.
He continues lapping at you through your orgasm, prolonging the intense waves of pleasure that wash over you. When he finally pulls back, he wiping his glistening lips with a satisfied smirk. "You taste... heavenly." he whispers, crawling back up to lay beside you.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, a fine sheen of sweat covering your skin. You turn to face Soobin, your eyes sparkling with wonder and gratitude. "That was... incredible." You trace a finger along his jaw, marveling at the tender expression he wears.
Soobin catches your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your fingertips. "I'm glad you liked it..." He nips gently at your finger, a mischievous glint entering his eye. "But we're just getting started..."
Soobin rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his waist. His hardening length presses against your sensitive core, and you gasp at the intense sensation. "Ride me," he whispers, his hands resting on your thighs. "Take control this time."
Heart pounding with exhilaration and a touch of nerves, you position yourself above Soobin's waiting erection. With a deep breath, you slowly sink down, your slick walls stretching to accommodate his thickness. A low moan escapes you as he fills you completely.
His abdominal muscles tense beneath your touch as you begin to move, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Soobin's fingers dig into your thighs possessively, encouraging you to move faster, harder.
You lock eyes with Soobin, a heady rush of arousal surging through you at the desire blazing in his gaze. Your fingers splay across his chest as you grind down onto him, savoring the delicious friction. "You feel so good inside me."
Soobin's lips curl into a devilish grin at your praise, his cock twitching inside you in response. "You take me so well, like you were made for me." he husks, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples.
Leaning forward, you capture Soobin's lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, your tongues tangling desperately. He responds with equal fervor, swallowing your moans as you ride him with wild abandon. The change in angle has him hitting new spots inside you, pushing you rapidly towards another peak.
With one hand supporting your hip and the other snaking between your thighs to toy with your clit, Soobin starts thrusting upward to meet each of your movements. "Come for me again, sweet girl," he whispers against your lips. "Let me feel you milk my cock."
Your body obeys his command, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamp down around Soobin's cock, sucking him deep as he thrusts up into your convulsing pussy. He groans, his own release building at the intense stimulation.
Feeling your pussy squeeze and pulse around him sends Soobin careening over the edge. With a strangled cry, he pulls you down, burying himself as deep inside you as possible as he fills you with his hot seed.
Your breath comes in short gasps as Soobin leans back, smirking at the way you’re left speechless. His hands linger on your waist, steadying you, but his teasing gaze holds an intensity you can’t quite decipher.
“See?” he murmurs, voice low and laced with mischief. “I always get what I want.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart races. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still here.” he quips, tilting his head with a grin that makes your knees feel weak.
Before you can respond, he releases you, stepping back with a smug expression. “Guess you’ll have to deal with me being around… always.”
The tension lingers in the air as he walks away, leaving you torn between frustration and a strange, fluttering feeling you can’t quite shake.
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taglist : @soobunni
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saerins · 2 years ago
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─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no
notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .
summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.
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“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”
he’s handsome, seventeen.
even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.
if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.
maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.
“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.
still handsome.
“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”
you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”
the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.
“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”
“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.
“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”
sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.
“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”
“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.
“you want me so bad.”
“you wish, itoshi sae.”
“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.
you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”
sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”
taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.
“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.
you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.
“so?”
“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.
“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.
“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.
but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.
maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.
that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.
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“not even if you bribe me.”
at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.
it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.
you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.
your parents think otherwise, though.
like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.
“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.
your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.
they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?
as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.
“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”
sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.
“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”
he could not be more wrong.
“none, sir.”
why does this effort feel much more than necessary?
“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.
not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.
“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”
that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.
making you miserable? no thank you.
so he nods, “yes, i do.”
“you realise that—”
“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”
from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.
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“they’re nothing compared to you.”
you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.
he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.
when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.
it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.
not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.
which didn’t take long.
it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.
oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.
“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.
sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)
it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.
a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.
the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.
usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.
“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.
“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.
“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.
“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”
“wait, what—”
you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.
i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.
sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.
you did not.
an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.
“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”
you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.
sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.
so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.
but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.
“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”
“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.
sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.
“promise?”
sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”
you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.
when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.
“my daughter has good taste.”
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“that’s a secret.”
sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.
you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.
it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.
they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.
he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.
“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”
you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.
“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.
“now who is this lucky lady?”
sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”
his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.
one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.
you smile as you type your response.
sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?
you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.
fuck yes.
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“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.
it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.
everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.
“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.
that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.
sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.
while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.
usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.
it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?
sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.
you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.
“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.
sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.
“oh, then where’d you go?”
sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.
“what’re you up to, itoshi?”
he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.
sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.
“sae?”
“this key’s yours.”
you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.
you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”
sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”
“y-you want me to move in here?”
“yes.”
“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”
“yeah.”
“you want me to live here with you, together?”
“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.
you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”
sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
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“i don’t want this anymore.”
it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.
sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.
“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”
he makes you feel stupid.
sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.
apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.
“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.
it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.
being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?
she’s just in the fucking way!
weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.
but really? it’s fucking difficult.
if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.
wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol
lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating
@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?
there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.
you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.
“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”
you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.
it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.
until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.
they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.
one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.
“sae, we need to talk.”
like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.
and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.
“i don’t want this anymore.”
sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”
you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”
“why not?”
“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.
when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.
“i want to break up.”
sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.
“no.”
now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”
sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”
“i-i mean what i said, sae.”
you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.
“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”
you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.
“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.
“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.
“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”
you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.
“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.
until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.
but he doesn’t.
sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.
and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.
but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.
there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.
“hey, sae?”
“mhm?”
“thank you.”
he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”
and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.
so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.
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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 2 years ago
Note
Request : first time holding hands
I’d love to see their reactions 😭
First Time Holding Hands
Short Headcanons || Gender Neutral Language!
Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire, and Sadie Adler Warnings: None
AN: A shorter post today! Thank you so much for requesting these were so fun to write I literally love doing cute little moments with these characters ~ I hope I answered the way you meant !! lol I feel like I got a little off track in some ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions :)
<><><><>
Arthur Morgan:
This man is a nervous wreck around you. Especially when you first start showing feelings for each other.
It took a million years for him to even admit that he was a little sweet on you, he is definitely not initiating anything past that point.
He can barely believe that you like him back.
The first time you grab his hand is not during anything special.
You’re sitting in the front of a wagon with him while on the way into town. The sun is casting a golden sheen across the earth, the air is warm but not hot, and the birds are swooping and playing in the sky overhead.
Without much thought you reach down to where he’s resting his arm on his thigh and envelope his hand with your own.
He tenses up at the contact, scared to make any sudden moves in case he might scare you away.
He doesn’t look at you directly, instead just glancing at you from the side of his eye. He wonders if you meant to do that or if you just did it by accident.
How your hand would end up on his on his thigh he doesn’t know.
When your thumb starts stroking the skin around his knuckle, tough and calloused from a few too many brawls, he starts to melt and relax a little bit.
He flips his hand around, which makes you pull away slightly, and fits his fingers in between yours. That way he’s holding your hand back and it’s a mutual.
There’s a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his lips. Not a word is spoken, but Arthur relishes the comfortable silence as he tries to think of what on earth he could have done to deserve something so perfect - to deserve you.
John Marston:
John is not a touchy-feely kind of guy. Not at first anyways. He doesn’t get what you see in him. He doesn’t understand why of all the men in the world - Hell, all the men in camp - you chose to waste your time with him.
He’s angsty like that.
He knows of your feelings for him and he gave a strong inclination that he might like you back but never confessed anything really. He figured you understood him enough to know.
You did, but he’s hard to read sometimes.
The first time you hold hands, he actually initiates it. You try not to overstep any boundaries with him, so he always has to make the first moves.
While playing a few practice rounds of poker (John is trying to teach you to play/play better), jokes are being thrown back and forth and rocks are being used as chips for show.
When John’s focus is pulled to the cards in his hands, you take the opportunity to try and grab a few rocks from his pile to add to your own as a little joke.
John catches you and places his large hand on top of your own making you freeze. A smug grin is plastered on his face and he doesn’t even look at you before placing his cards down, showing off a winning hand.
“Read ‘em and weep, Darlin’,” He laughs but never removes his hand from yours.
A small blush rises to your cheeks and his gaze falls to your combined hands. He curls his fingers under your own so that he’s fully holding your hand in his.
You try to catch his eye, but he’s so focused on his large, scarred hand covering your softer skin. It eats at him a little; a guilty feeling settles into his chest.
You place your other hand on his cheek and press on it lightly to direct his head to look at you. You smile one of your so-sweet smiles that makes his stomach ache a little with admiration, and he grins.
The two of you sit there for a while and continue trying to play poker each with one hand.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
Dutch has always been really hands-on with you. (Wink Wink)
He’s flamboyant, a show-off, cocky, and passionate. He loves to show you off and show off to everyone that you are his.
The first time he holds your hand, it’s to explicitly show that you are his and he is yours.
Most times after that, when Dutch holds your hand it means that the two of you are connected, not two people but one. Not just a couple but a unit.
He’s dramatic that way.
The very first time he holds your hand is during an argument with Hosea. A few things about camp affairs come up, plans are being thrown around, and Hosea makes a comment suggesting that you don’t need to be there for their conversation.
Dutch glares at the older man and reaches down to grasp your hand in his.
“But Daddy I love him!” Vibes I’m not going to lie.
He stands a little taller now that he’s touching you, it makes him feel stronger and more sure of what he’s saying. He puffs out his chest and looks down his nose at Hosea.
Hosea rolls his eyes a little and puts his hands up in surrender, telling Dutch that he can do what he wants.
When Hosea leaves, Dutch uses your entwined hands to pull you towards his side a little bit and hold you in an embrace.
He calls you his partner in crime, his other half, and a million other sultry things he can think of that causes a heat to rise in your chest.
He doesn’t let you go for the rest of the night after that, choosing to show off to the rest of the gang members that you two belong together and will always be.
Javier Escuella:
Javier values romance in a relationship.
Maybe nothing incredibly grand - but sweet notes, acts of service, small gifts here and there - he likes to show you how much he loves you through actions more than anything else.
All that and more is shown later on in your relationship. At first, though, Javier is more protective than romantic when it comes to you. It keeps him from showing his emotions at times, and makes him oblivious to your feelings other times.
He just doesn’t know what’s too much because he feels a lot of things, but he wonders if showing all that too soon will scare you away. His feelings are so intense that he gets scared away from you sometimes.
The first time he holds your hand is when you knick yourself while trying to do tricks with one of his knives.
You envy the way he’s able to just do the flips and graceful switches with the blades, and even how he can effortlessly play that five-finger-fillet game.
So, naturally, you try to replicate a trick you’ve seen him do a million times and it ends with a little gash on the heel of your palm.
It’s barely bleeding and looks more like a scrape, but as you hiss in pain Javier has forgotten his chore as he rushes to see what you’ve done to yourself.
He tsks at you and gently wraps his fingers around your wrist to get a better look at the wound.
You’ve forgotten the scrape at this point as his touch is sending jolts of adrenaline through your arm and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.
He doesn’t notice, too busy looking to see if you’ve mortally wounded yourself. When he’s satisfied that you won’t die, he looks up at your face (Which is dark with a blush and you’re trying to avert your gaze from him, but you just can’t).
He doesn’t understand what’s gotten into you until he sees your joined hands and a knowing grin cracks into his face.
“I’ll kiss it, make it better,” He murmurs and presses a slow, tender kiss to the palm of your hand while gazing up into your eyes the entire time.
He knows what he’s doing.
Charles Smith:
I genuinely feel like Charles is the most well rounded of the group when it comes to his emotions and how he conveys what he’s feeling to you.
Communication king for sure.
The first time Charles holds your hand it’s like he’s always done it.
It’s so natural to him that there really is no concrete first time that changed the meaning of your relationship or created some big deal.
Charles isn’t really someone who likes to show off and isn’t into public displays of affection. Brief hugs and hand holding are the only things he can bring himself to do with you if there are other people present.
He likes to hold your hand a lot despite that. Kissing, groping, or anything even a little heated is a big no for him (in private it is another story), so he likes to have your hands intertwined more often than not.
At first he would come up to you and hold his hand out, palm up, with a quirked brow as if asking you to place your hand in his. You oblige, of course, and he would follow you around camp or vice versa.
Now, Charles doesn’t even bother asking before he comes up to you and just grabs your hand whenever he sees you.
There’s no question about it, the two of you are always connected.
If he can see you he is by your side holding on to you.
It’s not possessive (unlike Dutch cough cough), but it’s more for his own comfort. He likes being near you and he likes that you seem to enjoy being near him.
Charles finds his twin flame in you, his other half. Much more than a soulmate, but his person.
Sean MacGuire:
Sean never really knows where the two of you stand in terms of a relationship.
He flirts with you over and over and over again. You laugh and blush occasionally, but end up telling him to shut up and wandering off.
He knows that he can come off as a sarcastic ass, but he didn’t realize that it’s so intense that you can’t even tell that he’s genuinely trying to get you to notice him as more than a friend/fellow gang member.
The thing is, it is hard for you to tell. Sean isn’t known for being the most serious guy in the world and you’ll be damned if you let him make fun of you by flirting with you and making you swoon or something.
The first time you hold hands with Sean is also consequently the first time you see Sean’s feelings for you are genuine, not some trick.
You turn away from Sean after he’s thrown yet another flirty remark at you, but before you even have the chance to mutter “Shut up, MacGuire” He’s shot out and wrapped his fingers around your own in a strong grip. It doesn’t hurt, but you can’t just pull away and tell him to stop messing around.
You turn back and look down at your conjoined hands.
“Please,” He begs and pulls you an inch closer. “Listen to me.”
You can hardly focus on anything but the warmth of his hand in yours and the way it makes your heart swell and tingle.
He explains his feelings for you, every last one of them. Some were a little more explicit and detailed than you expected, but you appreciated the straight forward honesty.
Let’s just say after that conversation the two of you hold hands and more pretty often in the future.
Sadie Adler:
Sadie and you hold hands all the time. She literally cannot tell how you feel about her.
Is this a friendship? Is it more? She has no idea because you’re so comfortable with her that the line between friends and partners is so blurred Sadie isn’t even sure if there was a line to begin with.
One night, you and Sadie are lying outside the tent that you share stargazing. Sadie is telling you what she knows about the stars and you chime in every now and then with your own little details. She loves the excitement in your voice when you remember the story to a constellation or find one that you hadn’t notice last time.
Your bodies are close, but your hands are closer. Lying in the grass, Sadie can feel the heat from your fingers and hers twitch and beg to touch yours.
She’s nervous, though, to take the relationship further. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to admit what she wants.
While she’s debating if it’s worth it, your pinky finger stretches and curls around her own. She audibly gasps at the action and her head whips over to see if you realize what you’re doing.
You’re already gazing at her with soft eyes and a small smile. It makes her bones turn to jelly at the sight and she tries to speak, but the only thing that escapes her mouth are sharp exhales as her words get tangled in her throat.
She tightens her pinky finger around yours, and you understand the meaning behind it.
It was all still confusing, but Sadie knew one thing: Friends don’t look at each other like that.
<><><><>
I love Sadie so much y'all don't even know
Hope you enjoyed!!
3K notes · View notes
anniflamma · 2 months ago
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OK FINE same anon with the fanfic ask XD Thank u for your amazing Epic animatics and your beloved and daniel animatics, just literally everything. I hope u enjoy this little snippet thing
Darius, he finds, is a man of perplexing mind, body, and spirit. The same man that coldly executes his traitors is the same man with tears in his eyes when Daniel emerges from the den, that hauls him into an embrace so crushing Daniel thinks he’ll go to God that day anyway.
Darius is not a fool, but he wields honesty and sincerity as sharp as a blade, never steps away from his convictions while also allowing room for redefinition. He tears down all of Daniel’s misgivings and years of disillusionment and pain, to make room for hope in a future.
Darius is not a perfect man. But to Daniel, he is a miracle.
One that gives him many headaches.
“How has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”
And one that reminds him he is far, far too old for this.
The other facet of Darius that gives Daniel constant pause and constant rumination, is how he uses his emotions. He is neither detached from them nor a slave to them. He carries them openly, not worn as an armor or exposed as a weakness, but instead carried like a tool, honed finely to use for any conquest to the answers he seeks.
So yes, Daniel is aware that while Darius means this compliment, he is goading Daniel for a specific response.
Daniel clears his throat—ignores that Darius poorly hides a smile behind his hand—and fans out a roll of parchment to look over the records with the king.
“I know I say it often.” Darius tilts his head to rest it in his fist. “Yet you always deflect and hide away from it. I cannot tell if this is aversion or if no one has ever paid you due compliment for how radiant you are. If it’s the former, I shall stop. If it’s the latter, then I must continue to rectify this at all opportunities.”
Usually Daniel would deflect, though not when Darius calls him out on it. He’s long grown out of blushing. So he rubs at the tension between his brows with a sigh.
“Don’t make such flagrant assumptions with no evidence to back them, my king,” Daniel replies, with his most level advisory tone he can muster. “I was a young man once. You are not the first.”
He doesn’t know why he entertains this, but he does know it makes his heart race when Darius’s eyes light up with intrigue. Lord help him.
“Oh? Pray tell, who?”
Daniel rolls his eyes up and slowly counts to three. “Just about all the royal courts I’ve served when not trying to kill me.”
Darius’s brows predictably raise. He is quiet for a moment, schooling his reaction that Daniel wishes he would read. “I see.”
His mouth turns, a fine line of contemplation, and then asks, “Were there advances?
Of course there were. He wonders where this will go, if Darius will rear jealousy or pride over just how many have made a point to break Daniel down into his features and not his heart.
“Dare I answer that?”
Darius’s mouth tightens. “Was their reciprocity in those advances?”
No.
Daniel looks away. “I remember being summoned here for taxes, King Darius.”
Darius hums softly.
“I apologize for overstepping. I never intended to open old wounds.”
He is so disarming, his ability to reach past ever defense and seek Daniel exactly for what he is. His sheer strength and respect for another’s state of being will always rattle him to the core. Daniel looks back to him.
“It’s alright.”
Darius studies him, unwilling to break from their eye-contact and Daniel finds himself accidentally caught in the thousands of ruminations flickering in those warm eyes.
Darius sighs and straightens up. He leans across the table, palm fanning out of the parchment so that his fingertips brush the side of Daniel’s palm.
“As it stands,” Darius murmurs. “I did not know you as a young man. Has anyone ever told you how you shine now?”
Daniel’s cheeks heat before he can remind them he is not a teenager anymore.
“I don’t need flattery.”
“I’m not.” Darius leans down closer and Daniel shivers at the suddenness of their shared body heat. “I also have no intention of advances.”
Darius plucks the parchment from the desk, and steps away from his space. Like the pull of gravity Daniel nearly follows the impossible force of him as he retreats.
He peeks over the paperwork with a glint like a sheer devil. Daniel’s mouth twitches. He bites.
“These bones are not made for initiation anymore,” Daniel supplies, and Darius’s eyes squint up from behind the scroll with a clear grin.
“I find your tongue more than persuasive enough.”
Oh, the lions were easier to tame.
Omg!! This is amazing!! And the amount of flirting is insane!
"Oh, the lions were easier to tame." AAAAAHH!
More pliz I'm hungry...
Also... WHY ARE YOU ANON! I WANNA KNOW WHEN YOU POSTING THE FULL FIC! >:(
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viviennevermillion · 2 years ago
Note
*slides into your inbox because HSR requests are open*
Hey Vi! I was wondering if I could request some heacanons for Sampo, Blade, and your boy Luocha with a reader who likes to play with/run their hands through the boys hair? They all have such pretty hair and I want to play with it!
Anyway take your time of course, and I hope you're doing well! Please remember to take care of yourself!
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playing with their hair
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ryker, yayyy, thank you for sending in a request! you made me think about sampo and realize that he's the funniest fucking character in the entire game and so much fun to write for. i had a blast with his banner too, the song fits him so well 💀🩵
btw requests are open and if you guys would like to read more of my works, check my masterlist!
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: carried me with you — brandi carlile
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: sampo, blade, luocha
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: very slight angst in blade's (i'm so sorry, i'm trying, i promise)
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Sampo loves when you play with his hair. He'd be 100% down for you trying ridiculous hairstyles on him but on a good day he'll put a pillow in your lap and puts his hands behind his head, sinking into the soft fabric. He closes his eyes when your fingertips start carding through his blue strands of hair. "This is the good life", he sighs and winks at you, "now all you'd need to do would be feeding me grapes like they do in the movies and things would be perfect." "Wait until I throw you off the couch", you shoot him a warning glare. "Hey, hey, I jest", he puts his hands up defensively and laughs.
"You know I'm lucky to have you", he takes your free hand into his and presses a kiss to your knuckles, "this is like we're straight out of a romantic piece of literature, don't you think?" You raised an eyebrow at him: "You're not exactly what I'd consider a romance novel protagonist."
He sighs. "True. I'm more like, the court jester who fell in love with the pretty royal heir", he reaches up to cup your cheek, caressing it gently with his fingertips. "And I love you for it", you laugh as he sits up to press a kiss to your lips. You bury your fingers in his hair whilst kissing back.
You take a deep breath and drift off into your own thoughts now that Sampo was quiet for a moment. A rare occurence, really.
As you enjoy this moment with your beloved, you think back to the chaos that was all over Belobog recently. "Hey, what do you think our friends from the Astral Express are doing now?", you wonder and Sampo sinks back into your lap again, resting his cheek against your stomach. "Maybe fighting a giant, strong lady with the help of a dragon, but what do I know?", he shrugs with a satisfied smile on his face. "Isn't it usually the other way around?", you raise an eyebrow. "It is, isn't it?", he puts a finger to his chin and chuckles.
You laugh and ruffle his hair. "You always have such an overactive imagination. You should write a book." "As much as I'd slay as an author, I'm just doomed by the narrative like the rest of us, darling."
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Blade enjoys when you run your fingers through his hair. It's a sensation that momentarily distracts him from everything else that is going on in that busy, but tired mind of his; so it's well-appreciated.
He will not let you mess up his hair under any circumstance. Kafka calling him "Bladie", a terrible habit that rubbed off on you, was bad enough. He didn't need her and Silver Wolf to tease him about having a ponytail on top of his head with several braids going off from it, tied together with colorful hair ties.
Thankfully, you were sane enough not to attempt that.
But he does let you do a few nice hairstyles that look good on him; like a simple, long braid. He doesn't care for what he looks like after all these years of being alive but you seemed to find joy in it and it made his daily life easier sometimes to have his hair put together in a braid.
Sometimes when you sit behind him and braid his hair, you press a few teasing kisses to his neck. Unfortunately for his usually so serious demeanor, Blade is the most ticklish person you have ever met, so that's one of the only things that gets a laugh out of him; even if he didn't feel it emotionally. You brush a strand of his hair back, relishing in the sound he made so rarely; a slight tinge of sadness in your heart and a thought you didn't dare voice.
I wish I could see you laugh more... I'd do anything to make you happy.
He also lets you brush his hair every morning if you want to. His hair is so soft, as you have told him many times. He always wonders how something so simple could bring you so much joy; but he's glad that it does.
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Luocha always takes good care of his hair; after all a professional appearance was important for a merchant. His hair is very soft and silky and you have a great time brushing and braiding it.
He teaches you how to do his signature hairstyle. It's quite difficult to do on his own so he appreciates that you're happy to help. This pretty much became a routine for the two of you in the morning.
Sometimes he'd try to get up at night to go to the bathroom and find you accidentally laying on his hair. He hisses an "ouch" under his breath, sometimes waking you up in the process. Once he's back in your arms, you massage his scalp and carefully run your fingers through his blond strands to make up for the painful accident.
In the morning, you tend to sit behind him and do his hair, often littering his neck and shoulders in the process. "Is this just an excuse for you to give me kisses?", he chuckles and shakes his head. "I suppose you caught me", you sigh with a smile on your face and Luocha turns his head to pull you into a deep kiss that catches you off guard. You quickly melt into the gesture, closing your eyes and noting how pleasant the taste of his lips is. You presume he applies lip balm in the morning before you do his hair but you never actually saw him do it.
When he gets home after a long day, depending on what hairstyle you did for him, his scalp hurts sometimes when you undo his braid so he loves to rest his head in your lap and have you ease brush your fingers through his hair.
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cherryspeaches · 25 days ago
Text
sex, money, feelings, die - Chapter 2
Summary: Having lost everything, you joined the games with no hope or expectation of winning. Despite it all, you found something interesting in #001. Maybe you'd stick around a little longer. Chapter wc: 1.1k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He’s awfully obsessed with 456. Since he first caught your eye the previous night, it’s like you couldn’t look away from him. Your eyes sought him out in the crowd from the moment you woke up. Your inability to look away from him is starting to piss you off. The more you look at him though, the more you notice just how much he looks at 456. Gi-hun. You heard his friend yell out his name a few times, consoling himself that he’ll be fine since he has the self-proclaimed winner of the previous games with him. Yeah good luck buddy, shit all that’s going to do to be honest. The only advantage he would have is knowing that people die in here. You had no clue who was responsible for organising this death spectacle but they would have to be insanely stupid if they kept the exact same format and games year on year. Actually, why did they let a past player come back? He couldn’t have run out of money already…What was his reasoning again? Lost in your thoughts, you feel your forehead bump into someone as you all enter the room location for the second game. “Sorry…” you mumble. 
“Ah, it’s okay…” you heard a voice reply. You finally look up to see 120, and Oh. “Pretty” the words escaped your mouth before you had a moment to think. “I’m sorry?” You could see visible shock take over her expression. Curious eyes look back at you, with a bit of apprehension, as though she almost didn’t believe you. “You’re pretty.” you smile back at her. You were being genuine too. She really was just your type, tall and visually stunning. Pity that you were both in here, destined to die. “Oh… Thank you.” she looked away, light pink dusting her cheeks. “I think so too!” you hear from behind you, player 095 chiming in from behind 120. Cute. They would look cute together. You could see 120’s body language change slightly in the presence of 095, showing that she felt more comfortable with her around. An awkward lull settles over the three of you, and with that, you use that to excuse yourself with a final smile at 095 and 120, and they awkwardly smile back. You knew that you made people uncomfortable sometimes. You could never quite say the right thing, or read the room right. You wondered why honesty was publicly held in the highest regard and yet privately it was the swiftest way to isolation. People don’t like to hear the truth as much as they say they like to. Part of your mannerisms also stemmed from you simply not caring enough to put on a mask for people. You were fighting your own battles daily, you were tired and lying to people took a lot of energy. Caring what they think takes a lot of energy too. Things became a lot easier when you stopped caring, or at least when you pretended to stop caring. Guess you still lied to yourself despite it all. The speaker croaked and came to life, spelling out the instructions for the next round. Ah… you had to get into groups. I guess this is where I die… Resigned to your fate, you moved quietly amongst the chaos to rest against a wall. Leaning back, you reached a hand into your pocket, itching to put on your music and to zone out. This is the end anyways right? Might as well go out in a moment of calmness. The risk was too high though, if someone saw then that might be the end of your music privileges. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and tried to find the silence amongst all the noise. It’s an old meditation trick your grandfather taught you, a near impossible task but the moment you do find it… you truly did feel something. You heard the chatter amongst the crowd, you felt the frantic energy swirl around you, you tasted the desperation in the air. You followed their trails to find the moment they stopped intertwining.. Oh what’s this? You opened your eyes to meet deep pools of brown, almost black depths. 001 was standing in front of you. Despite everything happening around you, the world turned silent as you gazed into his eyes. They were beautiful, and so deeply sad. You could emotions battling under a tranquil surface of resolve. He seemed to be struggling with something, something that he felt he had to do. What a beautifully complicated man. “Are you just going to keep staring at me? Am I that handsome?” his eyes crinkled into a smile. Not a real smile. You didn’t like how it looked on him. “Yes.” “Yes I’m that handsome?” His tone coloured in surprise at your answer, holding a teasing note. “Yes I will keep staring at you but not because you’re undeniably handsome.” He paused for a moment before replying. “Then why?” “You’re like me.” You responded with a smile. “In what way?” He looked at you curiously. “You wanted to die once too, maybe you still do.” 
Humour left his face. Now this, this is the real him. You see his mask fall off, and you’re given a glimpse into his psyche for just a moment. A darkness filled his features, and he looked at you with such intensity… you suddenly wish you could read his mind at this moment.  
“What did you say?” He asked, almost with desperation. “Somewhere, sometime in your life, you gave up. I have too. We’re just waiting for the inevitable, I can see it, no matter how hard you hide it. Your eyes betray you, y’know?” You responded, never breaking eye contact with him, never blinking. His eyes never leave yours. You know what you said would be shocking for anyone to hear, it looks as though he’s been waiting to hear those words though. When he approached you, all you saw was boredom, and slight disdain. The usual look of someone who wanted to use you as a pawn for their agenda, they didn’t particularly want anything to do with you but you served a purpose. Now he looked at you very differently - hatred for daring to call him out, curiosity for how you knew how he felt, pain… so much pain. Through it all, you could see resignation intertwined amongst all the emotions. You decided that maybe you did a little more damage than intended, time to move this forward then. You use a leg to kick yourself off the wall, and weave your body past his to walk back into the crowd and accept your fate. He made no effort to follow you. You pause for a moment. “Coming, 001?” “What?” “You came over here to recruit me right? Otherwise why bother wasting time trying to talk to me. Let’s go, we have a game to win.” Death is familiar to you, and it’s why you could no longer feel her embrace. Not since 001 spoke to you. 
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taglist <3 : @tizilovetomhiddleston, @scuzmunkie
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nonstoplover · 1 year ago
Text
sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young
summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.
words: 2.1K
warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3
a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.
big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!
please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!
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Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.
"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.
(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.
Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.
When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.
Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.
This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.
The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.
Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.
He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.
It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.
He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.
But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.
With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.
He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.
A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.
He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.
Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.
As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.
He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.
Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.
Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.
Instead what he finds is a text. From her.
in a cab, be home soon &lt;3
Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.
Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.
It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.
Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.
"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.
"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."
His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.
"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"
"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."
His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.
"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.
So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.
Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.
By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.
He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.
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blue-jisungs · 1 year ago
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heyy, how are you doing? hope life's treating you well during the last days of the year 🤚😔
I wanted to request smth but I'm not sure if I should send it here bc I didn't see a link? anyways. I was wondering how would wonwoo or scoups deal with a s/o that hasn't dated nor kissed before and therefore is scared of the commitment and all the pressure that comes with catching feelings? maybe I have a friend who's insecure about that, iykwim
thank you for taking the time<3
firsts (and hopefully, not lasts)
author’s note. hi dear anonnie!! i’m doing good, thank u for asking <3 i hope life was treating you tenderly too!! :D
++ thank u mother @l3visbby for proofreading<33
summary. having a conversation about your worries with wonwoo, who’s understanding and caring
also this turned so self indulgent like 😭😭😭 i relate to all the bitchless single ppl out there fr fr … so worry not, i getchu…. i mean, your friend >_<
word count. ~1,5k
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sometimes you wondered how did that happen. that meaning you and wonwoo dating. him, a talented and handsome idol with lots of charisma, good traits and fans. you, being a simple human with an ordinary life.
it was even quite… boring. nothing really happened in your life. highschool, then college. working and studying, an endless cycle. you were never the one to party – or get invited to parties. sure, you got along with your classmates and co-workers (or even their friends!) but you couldn’t help but feel envious when in their early 20s they already had dated, partied and had the fun of their lives.
you met wonwoo while on a vacation on jeju. for something that felt like ages, you decided to take a trip. alone. just with yourself.
while having a lonely stroll around the neighborhood, you stopped to pet a cat. it had a collar, it certainly wasn’t stray - and surely, loved belly rubs. so while you were petting the feline, wonwoo noticed you. heart warming upon seeing the simplicity and beauty of human nature, he stared for a while longer and went back to the place he stayed at.
he passed you a couple of times – on a beach, when you were secretly petting the cat, when you were riding a rented bicycle with wind blowing your hair.
you were cute and wonwoo decided that ‘screw it’ and approached you once you were reading a book under a byeonggeul tree. and the rest was history.
you’ve been dating for almost three months. yet… you haven’t kissed. wonwoo understood that, how could he not? he respected your boundaries and told you to take your time. he didn’t know the reason – that you haven’t kissed anyone, that he was the first guy you held hands with, that he was your first everything. and in moments like these, when the realization hit you like a wave crushing on rocks by the shore, you were terrified. how come you’re 27 and still a loser? bitchless loser, as many of the younger people would say. sure, wonu never made fun of you (simply because you never talked about it or mentioned it to him) but your friends, that knew you for a long time now… you felt it in your bones that they’re making fun of you.
“hey, is everything okay?” your boyfriend’s (gosh, that sounds so beautifully strange. you never thought the possibility of having a boyfriend is something that was actually possible for you) tender voice reached your ears. tearing your dozed-off eyes away from a random spot in the wall, you nodded with a shy smile.
wonwoo sat next to you, placing his warm hand over yours.
“come on, i can see something is bothering you. you’ve zoned out” he snickered and you just send him a smile “you do that a lot lately, you know? is something bothering you?”
‘you. you are the reason of my bothers’ you thought, sighing.
“well…” you started and already knew it was a mistake. wonwoo cocked an eyebrow.
“so there is something” he hummed, satisfied “you know i won’t judge, hm?”
he knew exactly what you were thinking. one would think it’s kind of creepy. actually, you found it adorable. he knew you so well, almost as if you knew each other since childhood.
“i know but… it’s silly” you mumbled and your eyes met his warm, ebony irises. wonwoo fixed his glasses with a swift flick and shook his head. you opened your mouth to say something.
communication is key, they say. you should probably tell him what’s on your mind, right?
you just sighed.
“how do you… bear with me? we… we haven’t kissed and–”
“i hate to interrupt but i’ve told you this. i don’t mind. you being comfortable it’s the most important thing to me and i would hate to lose your trust” he said, a bit sternly but you knew it was pure care speaking through him.
“i know but… i haven’t kissed, wonwoo. like, never. and actually, i’m scared. because this is my first relationship. my parents and friends have this pressure on me… and it’s so draining. ‘you didn’t even kiss yet?’, ‘when are you going to introduce him to us?’, ‘does he take you on dates?’, ‘do you live together?’, ‘are you really committed?’... ‘are you sure you like him?’... and how… how would i know? i’m scared” you burst out suddenly, words leaving your lips like water erupting from a waterfall. you see his eyes widen in shock, lips parting.
“scared of what?” wonwoo asked, blinking slowly “me…?”
“no. yes. i mean, no!” you laugh and see a wave of relief wash over him. then he frowns, so you explain “i’m scared of what you’ll think or… or where we will be in the future. i’m scared to do some things with you but also… kind of excited? i’m scared of committing but i’m also frightened of not committing! like, with all respect, how will i know i love you? do you just wake up one day and know it’s love? i’m scared i’ll get hurt or even worse, hurt you. i don’t know what to do…” your voice died in your throat.
great, you overshared. now he’ll think you’re actually insane.
you could see wonwoo was baffled. you sat in silence for five minutes, his thumb drawing circles on your hand in a soothing manner.
“that’s… a lot to process” nonu let out a small laugh and you smiled.
“i know, sorry. it’s just been on my mind lately” you mumbled. wonwoo brings his leg to the couch, then puts his other hand and grabs both of yours. looking you in the eye with seriousness, you tense a bit. uh oh.
“to be honest, baby…” your boyfriend starts (and the nickname still makes your stomach swirl with butterflies - even though you always thought it would make you cringe. surprisingly, coming from wonwoo’s lips, it doesn't) “it’s hard to answer all of these. i really like you and i truly hope our relationship will last. but human heart is really unpredictable. we don’t know what the future will bring and we can only do our best and hope, it’ll only be positive things”
you nod. you’d like that – wonwoo was a person you could never get tired of.
“i didn’t know i’m your first boyfriend. and… i feel very touched that you trust me enough to share it with me and be with me. if you’re scared that kissing or something will overwhelm you… i’ll do my best to guide you into everything you want. and if you don’t, i’ll understand that” he said and you suddenly feel like crying. your friends always say that men are shit. wonwoo must be a real angel, then.
“i can’t really tell you how you’ll know you love me. everyone realizes in their own time, their own way. i don’t think… i don’t think i’ve ever experienced romantic love, to be honest” the words left his lips and you stared at him in shock “we’re not so different, dear”
you melted, feeling your lower lip start to quiver.
“and… thank you for sharing your worries with me. i’m really proud, you know? you were scared of others’ opinion, what i will think… of your own emotions. and it's normal. it’s understandable, especially in your first relationship. but i’m here for you, okay?” he cooed, his lips forming into a gentle smile.
“you’re not… angry?” you asked quietly. his face morphed into confusion.
“no, why would i be?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.
“well, it kind of sounded like i wanted to break up. which, i don’t of course. but um… you know… a girl tells you she’s scared… i dunno…” you rambled and blew air into your cheeks.
“i’m not, of course i’m not. in fact, i’m happy. i know now how you feel, i know what’s been troubling you. and i just want you to know that… with time, it’ll become natural for you. i mean, i’d hope so” he grinned “also, for the record, i won’t judge your kisses. of course i wouldn’t but… if that makes you more comfortable, then–”
“but be honest, do you even want to kiss me?” you huffed. he giggled, shaking his head.
“duh! what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i didn’t want to kiss my gorgeous partner?” wonwoo asked a - obviously rhetorical - question, squeezing your hand gently. “i do. i really do. but as i said…”
you loosened your hand from his tender hold and smacked his arm jokingly. he looked at you disoriented but with an amused smile.
“take my time… blah, blah, blah. okay. i will, you know it” you said and sent him a serious look “but promise me… if i ever do something wrong, you tell me. right away. like… ‘y/n you’re being a bad partner!’”
wonwoo scoffed and seeing your serious look, he nodded.
“i will. i swear on my love for chan” he said and placed his hand on his heart with a proud smirk.
“awww- wait, what?” you laughed and wonwoo followed along, the comforting sound of your laughters merging together in a beautiful melody.
and you have a strange feeling in your heart. you’re not sure what is it but you’re certain that it’s its way of saying ‘you’re safe with him’.
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth
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