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celestiamour · 27 days ago

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied.

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past.

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark.

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel.

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all.

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep.

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake.

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours.

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back.

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction.

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later.

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine.

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease.

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station.

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you’ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road.

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough.

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.

#📜. her works #the salesman #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game #squid game x reader

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prncssguya · 24 days ago

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on hwang in-ho/front man, seong gi-hun and their dynamic.

first, idk why people are getting so upset at other people calling gi-hun dumb, we were told that in the first season. lol being bright is not his strongest trait but he has a good heart and we love that about him. however, he is still an idealistic gullible idiot with a gambling problem. except this time his gambling addiction is backed by a sense of justice and righteousness and he no longer gambles with money, he’s gambling with people’s lives. front man asked a good question at the end of the season, “did you have fun playing the hero?” can we even call gi-hun the hero of the story anymore? he gambled with people’s lives and front man showed him the consequences of his moral heroics.

front man only agreed to help gi-hun with his revolution when he mentioned about "small sacrifices for the greater good". i think he reveled in the fact that the “good guy” was willing to allow a few innocent people to die for the greater good to stop the games, which is exactly what the entire VIP theory is to rid the world of 'trash' to improve the world. notice how gi-hun's moral code and belief also changed, from being "nobody should die" into "yeah small sacrifice is okay as long it's for the greater good" at this point, he just proved that front man's belief is actually valid. AND he gets more of his own people killed in the pointless battle with the soldiers that they had no chance of winning. now he gets to feel responsible for all those deaths and the death of his friend and for whatever additional torture they cook up in the next games (as punishment for the escape attempt).

now on hwang in-ho, i believe he was once a good man and the story he told gi-hun was the truth. but in the end he lost a kidney, lost a wife, a baby, lost his money, got fucked over by the wrong people and got into serious debt and had to play this game to help his wife and probably it was too late to save her. he might have played the games like gi-hun but saw how ruthless and greedy people are and resolved that they don't deserve help

i don’t think in-ho wants/will kill gi-hun, but he wants him to understand things from his perspective and show him that his compassion for the people in the games is foolish. you can tell the frontmen (the old man and in-ho) are extremely fond of gi hun. not only did he protect their original front man when nobody else did, he then won the games and thus their respect as he is now as rich as them. he's no longer "trash", he’s an elite like them. i think they both actually kept tabs on him after he won (i wonder if they do that for all winners? inserting them with gps chips?) because they knew he had not used his reward money and in-ho wanted gi-hun to get on the plane and be happy with his daughter

there’s one interesting aspect of the games that makes front man such a complex character. the fact that they’re operating a organ transplant trafficking network. in a way, he’s creating some good to come from a really fucked up situation. but is it really for the good of others who desperately need it, people like his wife, like his brother? or is it just a money making scheme?

either way, i don’t think there is going to be a redemption arc for in-ho, he’s too far gone. we may get to see more of his human side if he manages to see jun-ho again. the only time we’ve seen genuine emotions from him was when he shot his brother like he seemed distraught

the real cliffhanger for me, is will gi-hun stay true to his belief that people can be good, or will he be forever changed into a villain and become the next front man…? after the events of this season i don’t see how his will doesn’t shatter. he’s witnessed how humanity consistently chose money over survival, he’s lost two close friends, his mother, abandoned his daughter. he has gained nothing from wanting to stop the games and this clearly feels like an origin story for the next front man. it’s clear the front man has won this round and i think squid game will either die with 001 or continue with gi-hun as game master

another thing i find funny that i don’t see many mention is how gi-hun is like the luckiest guy in the fucking world. but i don’t think him being alive this long is plot armor, it makes sense. the games exist for the entertainment of rich sadists who have so much money they don't know what to do with it (remember what old 001 said in s1 about life being no fun for both people with no money and people with too much money). and i’d imagine killing hundreds of poor debt-ridden fools year after year gets boring. especially when said fools are desperate enough to gamble with their lives because they think they can beat the system by playing better than everyone else and surviving and getting the money.

gihun is different because he got the money, got out, and still came back. not because he's unfeeling or because he wants more money, but because he's still convinced he can beat the system.

if you're a rich bored gazillionaire, would you rather watch some randos die or would you rather watch this exceptional idiot fail again and again until he learns that his ideals are meaningless and people are inherently greedy and equality is a myth and people at the bottom of the barrel don't get to question the system?

if you're an asshole gazillionaire, you don't want someone to challenge you and just get away with it. you want to hand them 45.6 billion won and make them go away quietly, traumatized, after breaking them psychologically by making them do horrible things until they understand they're just powerless "horses". if they insist on challenging you and your system and your beliefs (money = boundless power), you teach them a lesson and show them their place in the most manipulative and cruel way possible. if gihun dies right away, that's boring. so he can't die, he needs to suffer. he needs to concede defeat.

also, i find it funny how people are comparing hwang inho and gihun dynamic to hannibal and will graham. makes sense, their whole cat and mouse game, front man hiding his true nature from gi-hun the same way hannibal does, trying to corrupt the righteous protagonist, sowing chaos, testing him and observing his behavior like a lab rat, the crazy tension and staring contests, the gaslighting and manipulation. and with the fact that they think lee byung-hun looks like mads mikkelsen. i never put the two of them together but now i can’t unsee it lol

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lobautumny · 2 years ago

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So like, the Reddit strike going on right now, yeah? I've been seeing a lot of people comment on how they appreciate the protest and then go on to say that this has the notable downside of them constantly looking up questions and not being able to easily find the answers because all of the easily-findable answers are exclusively on Reddit. I am not sure if most of the people making this observation are within the line of thought of "man, maybe this protest isn't such a good idea after all" or "man, it really sucks that we've let the internet get so consolidated," and I'm really hoping its the latter.

Like, all of this? This right here? Reddit making a shitty, anti-consumer grab for money and control over how people are allowed to access the information on their servers, and the website going dark in protest causing tons of people to not be able to access important information? This is exactly what people mean when they say that it's bad that the internet has shrunk down so much and is mostly comprised of, like, 10 websites. It's a fucking problem that one company making one bad decision and causing their website to crash and burn can jeopardize so much of humanity's cumulative information.

This two-day glimpse into the internet without Reddit is the warning shot. Imagine what will happen if Reddit actually goes down for good for one reason or another one day. Imagine what will happen if/when Discord or Fandom bites the dust, or gets rendered practically-unusable without paying an ever-increasing premium because they're owned by blood-sucking corporate leeches.

Another big thing is Twitter clamping down really hard on your ability to DM people if you don't have Twitter Blue. If this goes through, it'll put a ton of artists and sex workers who rely on Twitter DMs for their business operation into a shitty situation. Now, obviously, it's not gonna be the end of the world for them, but once again, it feels like a warning shot to me. Twitter is a sinking ship, and unless something changes and it starts to course-correct, I worry that it'll go under and all of the creators who rely on it will suddenly be in an extremely precarious situation.

These are the sorts of things that we, as the users of the internet, need to seriously think about as time goes on, and if we don't find an adequate answer sooner, we're going to pay for it later. I still hold that the best solution is to start making and using more individual, niche websites. Things like Twitter, Reddit, Discord, etc. have their place, of course, but I seriously think a lot was lost through the death of things like individual forums and the existence of many different wiki-hosting sites.

We need a concerted effort, not just on the side of larger creators, but on the users themselves, to stop exclusively using these larger websites and support the creation and growth of smaller, more niche websites, and prevent a catastrophe before it actually happens. I simply hope that people with larger platforms than my own pick up on all this and start talking about it and swaying people to act sooner rather than later. I know it's possible to correct the problem of the mysteriously tiny internet before a modern Library of Alexandria moment happens, I just don't know if that correction will actually happen in time.

#internet #reddit #reddark #reddit blackout #twitter #discord

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qqueenofhades · 6 months ago

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oh god is biden dropping out? i don't know what happens then

Jesus effing Christ.

Few thoughts:

The billionaire Democratic donors got their way, apparently. All I saw was that the big-dollar donors were secretly putting pressure on the rank-and-file Democratic elected officials (i.e. House and Senate) to denounce Biden or not get any more money, and other shameful backroom maneuvering to knife Biden. I will refrain (lol, no I won't) from speculating that billionaires of any political stripe feel threatened by Biden's increasingly progressive tax/wealth redistribution policies, and saw their chance after the bad debate performance to knife him. Because until further notice, I'm going to think that was the biggest factor.

I don't know if there's an actual health condition that made Biden agree it was the best time (in fucking July) to step down, but if this was an issue, there needed to be planning last year, at the earliest, to prepare for a new successor. I don't know what's going on. This is a clusterfuck on many, many levels.

However: it is true that this does change things and not necessarily only for the worse, as long as Harris is immediately confirmed as the new nominee and this stupid Democrats In Disarray nonsense, which is giving the media exactly what they want, is put to a fucking end. If Harris is also swept aside and the billionaire donors try to install their preferred "Centrist!!!" candidate (lol Manchin or some shit) with an equally antidemocratic closed-door Star Chamber convention, then yes, we're fucked. Because the Congressional Black Caucus and African American voters saw exactly what the rich white man billionaires were trying to do by torching Biden and then Harris, and they are not going to play ball with some Magical White Man replacement.

If Harris is immediately confirmed as the new nominee (and to the best of my knowledge Biden has endorsed her), then she has a chance of reinvigorating the race. There were a lot of Americans who did not want either Biden or Trump. I suspect they were fucking braindead, but so be it. Harris has apparently polled pretty and increasingly well in recent days (in some cases actually better than Biden) and again, there is no remotely small-d democratic alternative to her. The billionaire donors already trashed the duly elected (by the primary process) Democratic nominee. If they do the same to Harris, then yes. We will have Trump and there won't be any more democracy in this country on either side, because the Republican big-bucks donors will gleefully pick up where the Democratic big-bucks donors left off.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The message needs to be "Harris is Joe's successor, she is younger and already has four years of experience and is the only candidate." Anything else is a fucking gift from god to the Republicans, once more getting trashed after Trump's terrible RNC speech. Maybe she can then pick Whitmer or Shapiro (both popular and effective Democratic governors of swing states, MI and PA respectively) as a running mate, but the nominee has to be Kamala. There is no other fucking choice. This is already enough of a mess.

If that can happen, and the fucking donors can refrain from fucking it up, then... okay. It's not great, but it does change things. It makes the ticket younger. It makes it historic (first Black female president beating Trump would be amazing). It could reach people disenchanted with the current two-old-white-guys setup.

This is an incredible sacrifice on Biden's part and I only wish that I could believe he did it voluntarily, rather than being forced out by a small class of rich people worrying about his policies getting too progressive.

I wish him only the best and I recognize this decision was taken under extreme pressure. If we then lose to Trump, I hope everyone who forced Biden out burns in hell.

I was a diehard Biden supporter not because I loved the guy personally, but because he was the only choice for preserving democracy in America. The essential stakes of the election have not changed, even if the billionaires just knifed us in the fucking back, possibly to nobody's surprise, because R or D, they are not our friends.

Kamala is the only choice. I will now have to defend her as hard as I did for Biden. She needs to beat Trump. There is nothing else to it. If you think she can't, then you need to work at helping her do that. There is already enough calamity and doom. We do not have a choice. We cannot lose sight of what is at stake here.

Kamala Harris/Whitmer and/or Shapiro and/or Buttigieg 2024.

The end.

#rionsanura #ask #politics for ts #jesus fucking christ #fucking hell #we don't live in a democracy any more either way #but we can still prevent trump #we cannot forget that #we cannot do anything else #kamala harris 2024 #i guess this is how it goes now #fuck i'm going back to bed

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woso-dreamzzz · 17 days ago

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Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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churipu · 1 year ago

Note

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

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favefandomimagines · 6 months ago

Text

Countertops (t.o)

Summary: a small fight doesn’t stop Tyler from caring about you

Request: @cinderellasmissingshoes Hi lovely, can I please request a Tyler Owens fic where he and reader are upset with each other, and they've each gone into different parts of the house to cool off. But then Tyler sees her climbing onto the counter for something, which he hates her doing because of how unsafe it is. And even though he's still upset, he still loves her and worries for her safety, so he helps her off before grabbing what she wanted?? I apologize if this is too specific, I know some writers like super specific requests and some don't, you can change this however you like! Can you please tag @glenscowboyhat as well please? They helped me come up with this idea. Thank you very much, have a nice rest of your day!

AN: a little short but fluffy and cute! And sometimes we just need a little fluffy and cute

You don’t even remember what started the argument or what it was about. The last thing you remember about the argument was that Tyler had gotten home later than intended, he didn’t answer any of your calls or texts when he was out chasing, and then the next thing you knew, you had dispersed to opposite sides of the house.

You remembered yelling at him about how you never see him for more than a few hours at a time. How you hadn’t spent enough quality time together recently and you just wanted to go on a date or do something fun.

He scoffed and said chasing paid the bills. Then you rebutted saying your job at the National Weather Service paid the bills, hitting his ego where it hurt.

It had been three hours. Three hours since the two of you have spoken and he had disappeared into the den of your shared home. It was agitating you, but you weren’t about to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault. You had too much pride for that and Tyler did too.

You were sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through Pinterest recipes to make for dinner. You could hear the TV in the other room playing some stupid rerun of an Oklahoma Sooners game from last season.

You rolled your eyes and picked one to make. As you were cooking, you realized you were out of olive oil. You knew you kept an extra bottle in the cupboard, the cupboard that was way out of your reach.

With a groan, you moved the tea towel that was on the counter out of the way, took off your slippers, and hopped up on the countertop.

Tyler was ready to have an actual conversation with you. He was still upset, but he was more upset that he let some stupid argument get the best of him. Technically, you were right. Your job pays the bills, his job is the extra income. He just wanted to be on speaking terms with you again.

He walked into the kitchen where he knew you were and saw you kneeling on the countertop. “Woah, woah, what are you doing?” He questioned, rushing to you. Tyler wrapped his arm around your waist and one under your legs as he helped you down off the counter.

“I needed the olive oil.” You answered as he set you down on the ground. “You could have asked for help.” Tyler said. “We weren’t exactly talking. Plus, how do you think I got things off of top shelves before we moved in together?” You rebutted.

“You know I hate you doing that. It’s extremely unsafe.” He said. “And so is going inside a tornado but I don’t lecture you, now do I?” You sassed.

Tyler sighed, took your hand and pulled you towards him as he sat at the counter barstool. “Y/N, I’m sorry about the fight.” He said. “I’m sorry too. I think I was just more sad than angry that we hadn’t spent quality time together and I said things I didn’t mean.” You replied.

“No, no you were right. Tornado Wranglers is just our spending money. Your job pays for the house. I will work on making sure we spend more time together.” Tyler replied.

“How about we find a compromise? You love chasing and you love the channel, I know better than anyone how quickly storms develop. We spend every night together, but if a storm develops that’s worth chasing, you can go do what you do best.” You said.

“I love chasing but I love you more. But, I agree with your compromise.” Tyler said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Though I still think you should come out there with me. Have a real scientist go out in the storm.” He added.

You let out a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s going to take a lot more convincing to get me in that saddle, cowboy.” You joked. “Well, it turns out I’m pretty persuasive.” He commented. “Oh are you? Care to elaborate?” You questioned. “Sorry, sweetheart, you have dinner on the stove.” Tyler replied.

“Now that’s just mean.” You teased. “Come on, I’ll help you with dinner.” Tyler said, standing up.

That night, all night, Tyler’s phone was on do not disturb. He didn’t reply to a single call or text from Boone or the rest of the team. Even when dark clouds rolled in and rain started pouring.

#imagine #imagines #twisters #twisters imagine #glen powell imagine #glen powell #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell x reader #glen powell x you

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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago

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A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

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ticklishfiend · 22 days ago

Text

Ramble On (Arcane)

(lee!jayce, ler!viktor)

Word Count : 6978

Summary : Apparently, Jayce has a lot he wants to tell Viktor, but only does so once he’s drunk on Viktor’s couch. In doing so, his outward love of physical affection makes Viktor realize some things about himself.

a/n : happy new years everybody! tysm for the love on the last fic, it meant sm to me <3 i hope yall enjoy this one bc i really liked writing it. lee!jayce is a treasure and im holding him dear to my heart rn.

this is a tickle fic! not nsfw but the ending is suggestive, so don't like don't read! :D

—

Jayce cannot be serious right now.

“Just this once? Please, Viktor. That last gala made me feel like a– like a dissected lab rat. They had their hands all over me, trying to…pick me apart and figure out my game,” Jayce cringed, throwing his hands to the side in exasperation, “I’m a scientist, not some corrupt politician looking to exploit. I just feel so out of my league…”

Viktor nodded in understanding, his insides fighting against the sympathy he felt for this man. Viktor hated those galas with everything in him. He’s been to only two so far, right at the start of their partnership, and it was hell.

They were exactly the way Jayce described, the way it made you feel like an object to be inspected upon by those giving you the funds for your work. Like you had to let them look at you the way they do, because in some round-about way you almost owe them the right.

It’s horrible. And now Jayce is begging, pleading with Viktor to go to another with him.

Viktor’s not even sure what difference it’ll make that he’s there. Most people there always look at him like he’s some wall standing in the way of the Golden Boy. Jayce is always pulled away and prodded at while Viktor’s left to sip on his champagne and watch as Jayce shoots ‘help me’ looks his way.

But tonight, Jayce seems desperate. The last one must’ve been pretty bad if he’s actually begging Viktor to come. He never forgets to at least ask Viktor if he’s changed his mind and wants to attend before leaving, but this time he looks like he’s about to get on his knees and clasp his hands together.

Viktor grimaced, looking up at Jayce from his office chair in the lab. “You really want me to go that bad?”

Jayce sighed with a tired nod, “Yes. I just need your moral support. I feel better when you’re there.”

“Jayce, I’ve only been twice.”

“Yeah, and they were the best ones I’ve been to,” he said sincerely, before putting his hands on Viktor’s shoulders and squeezing. “I am asking you a favor. Partner to partner. I’ll owe you one.”

Viktor stuck his tongue in his cheek and rolled it in thought. Jayce won’t stop looking him in the eyes like that, all wide and sad and puppy-ish.

‘When did I get so weak-willed?’

“Okay fine. Fine. But–” Viktor stuck a finger in Jayce’s chest just as the man started to smile all bright. “You owe me. I will not forget this.”

Jayce’s eyes were like stars, “Oh thank you, V, thank you. I won’t forget this either, trust me. I’ll buy you all the sweet milk your stomach can take for this,” he cheered, looking like he was about to jump up and down in glee.

Viktor sighed, pushing himself up off the chair with his cane. “Yes yes, all the sweet milk money can buy,” he pat Jayce on the shoulder as he walked towards the lab doors. “I’m going to get freshened up in my room, so I will, eh…meet you there, I suppose?”

Jayce smiled hard as he ran to open the door for Viktor in gratitude. “You got it, partner.”

—

Just as Viktor suspected. Hell on earth.

It’s so crowded and noisy, the ballroom crawling with wealthy socialites that reeked of expensive perfume and alcohol– so much alcohol.

Viktor almost wonders if there was a pre-game party before this, because the amount of times they’ve had some rich lady nearly stumble over to grip Jayce on the arm and slur weird little flirts and compliments his way was staggering. Jayce looked like he was going to crawl out of his skin the whole night with the way these people were crowding him like ants to a cookie.

As the night went on, Viktor could tell it was getting to Jayce worse and worse. And not just by how visibly stiff and sweaty he’d gotten, either.

Jayce was drinking way more than Viktor thought he would.

Glass after glass, Jayce was downing as much alcohol as he could pour down his gullet. At one point Viktor even tried to insinuate he slow down a little and fucking relax, but it was no use. Jayce just rolled his eyes like a teenager and took another glass off the nearest tray he could find.

At least he doesn’t look so out of place, seeing as nearly everyone here was on the brink of being trashed. It was surprising to watch all these high-life classy Pilties get their drink on like this, but Viktor couldn’t say it wasn’t a little bit amusing.

He thought after he left Zaun that he’d seen about the end of getting to watch people stumble and trip over their own feet at a function, slurring their words and laughing too loud at nothing. He supposed it wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening.

But then, Jayce walked back over to him with this look in his eyes. Viktor’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Is everything alright?”

Jayce groaned, before throwing his head onto Viktor’s shoulder and mumbling into his shirt. “W’nna go home.”

Oh shit. Jayce is drunk. Really drunk.

Viktor patted him on the back, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one could see the Man of Progress pouting like a child into his partner's neck. “I concur. But– you’re coming home with me. I’m not letting you walk home alone like this, but my leg can’t make both trips.”

Jayce giggled into his neck, and his breath gave Viktor goosebumps. “Sleepoverrrr!”

Viktor sighed, repositioning Jayce to stand straight as he led them toward the exit. “I hope you know that whatever weird things you say tonight, I won’t let you live it down.”

“M’not gonna say anything weird. You’re just– you’re too judgemental,” Jayce spoke too slow, a little slurred, and Viktor couldn’t help but grin.

—

Oh Viktor has so much to tease Jayce for in the morning. He can hardly wait.

On their walk home, Jayce couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was going on and on about how smart, how brilliant, how perfect Viktor was as his partner. Viktor couldn’t keep the blush off his face if he tried, but luckily Jayce was a little too out of it to notice.

Jayce told him how good he looked in his gala outfit, that it fit him perfectly around the waist and the ‘butt area,’ as he put it. He confessed that he started putting sweet milk in his own coffee thanks to Viktor, and he loves it, despite how much he teases Viktor for his sweet tooth.

And the closer they got to Viktor’s apartment door, the less Jayce could hold in his excitement about their little ‘sleepover.’

“Gonna make you play Twister with me,” Jayce joked with a giggle.

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a lightweight you are?” Viktor said as he stuck the key into his door, turning it to click.

“Yeeeah, they told me that a lot at the academy,” Jayce smiled, walking in after Viktor and gasping. “Oh it looks so nice in here!”

“You’ve been here, Jayce. Not much, but you have.” Viktor rolled his eyes, placing his keys on the table and walking toward the open area kitchen next to the living room. “I’m going to get you some water. Go sit on the couch, you overgrown toddler.”

“M’not a toddler, I have a degree…” Jayce argued, doing as he was told and plopping onto the couch. He ran his hand over the cushion’s fabric, “You got new stuff since last time. Oh, your couch is so soft.”

Viktor opened the fridge and grabbed his water filter before reaching for the cabinet of cups. “Well, our job pays pretty nicely. I figured I could treat myself to a few furniture items here and there.”

Viktor made his way back to the living area, handing Jayce his cup and sitting next to him on the couch. It wasn’t even 11pm yet, so Viktor still felt wide awake. His hours have been so screwed up recently thanks to his many nights spent sleeping in the lab, so he knows that if Jayce doesn’t get to sleep soon, Viktor’s probably on babysitting duty for the rest of the night.

Which…didn’t sound so bad, to be honest. Viktor’s only seen Jayce drunk like this a handful of times, but that was usually when Viktor had a few more drinks in him himself.

When Jayce gets drunk, he gets silly.

Even sober, Viktor’s found himself chuckling at Jayce’s antics all night. Jayce is far from a stuck-up person, but he’s usually a tad more reserved with his playfulness, especially around Viktor.

He’s sure it’s nothing personal, Viktor can be a bit of a stickler about play in the lab, but he really likes getting to see this side of Jayce with a clear head now that they’re somewhere more private.

So watching Jayce giggle around the rim of the glass at literally nothing was much more amusing to him than it was annoying. He knows how embarrassed Jayce is going to be in the morning, and it only fuels the fire to keep this going.

Viktor can’t wait to see Jayce burn red when he recounts all the embarrassing things he’s said and done over the course of the last hour.

“What’s got your giggle-box turned over?” Viktor teased, bringing his feet up on the cushions and laying back against the arm of the couch so he could watch Jayce.

Then, realizing how weird that probably was, quickly snatched a book from the coffee table to pretend-read just so he isn’t too obvious with his staring.

Jayce snickered, placing the glass down on the table. “I dunno. You’re just, you’re being so nice to me. It’s funny.”

Viktor furrowed his brow with a smirk, “When am I not nice to you? I’m a delight.”

Jayce laughed a little harder at that. “Nooo you are nice. You’re super nice, I didn’t mean that,” he reiterated poorly, only making Viktor suppress a snicker of his own.

And before Viktor realized what Jayce was doing, the man’s head was suddenly laying down in Viktor’s lap, Jayce’s eyes peering at him from under the book.

Viktor’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh. Well hello there.”

“Hi,” Jayce smiled before his expression quickly turned to a little pout. He groaned as he grabbed the book in Viktor’s hands and tried prying it from his grip, but Viktor wouldn’t let go. Jayce groaned, “Uugh, pay attention to me.”

Okay, Viktor couldn’t not laugh at that. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Super serious. I wanna talk, I like talking!” Jayce whined, still pulling on the book in Viktor’s hands. Viktor kept his grip tight, because it was far too amusing to watch this strong, bulky man fail to get a good tug in their little scuffle. “Viktor c’mon!”

“You’ve got to try a little harder than that to– aH! Hah- no, noho- Jayce, do not-!” Viktor’s voice pitched up without his permission, a choked off giggle escaping him as Jayce snuck his hands up over his own head to tickle at Viktor’s sides.

Alright. Maybe Jayce gets a little too silly when he’s drunk.

Viktor’s elbows crashed down to cover the area, letting the book fall off the couch without thinking, but that didn’t stop Jayce.

Now that he was latched on, he wasn’t letting go, and Viktor knew if he kept this up, he’d be giggling like a lunatic in no time.

Jayce grinned wide and proud. “Hah! You’re ticklish!” He teased, fingers pinching into Viktor’s sides with much more precision than they should with both the awkward angle and his clear inebriation. “I could tell. You look ticklish.”

Viktor shook his head, “Whahat does that even–?! gAh- okay, okahay! Enough!” He was full on giggling now, which is ridiculous because Jayce is supposed to be the one embarrassing himself right now, not Viktor.

Actually. What a wonderful idea.

Viktor gathered enough willpower to push his arms away from his sides, quickly diving his own fingers into Jayce’s very exposed armpits and digging in, albeit a little clumsily.

And yet, Jayce still screamed like a girl.

He shot his elbows down to his sides, immediately falling into a bout of ticklish laughter. His head leaned back and exposed his throat that bobbed through his cackling, legs gently kicking at the arm of the couch, more playful than anything.

“Nohohoho! Viktor!” Jayce cackled, and Viktor couldn’t help but snicker incredulously at the ridiculous situation he’s found himself in.

He’s got his fingers stuffed between Jayce’s arms, wiggling them into any muscle and bone he can that he knew would be sensitive on himself.

Viktor’s never found himself in the situation of having to tickle someone to make them stop tickling him before. Actually, now that he thinks about it, this might be his first time really tickling someone. He’s poked and pinched at Jayce a few times in the lab when he’s going about his daily routine of teasing Jayce til he turns pink, though he’d hardly count that as real tickling.

He’s teased Jayce for his ticklishness for a while now, ever since that day his elbow poked a little too funny into Jayce’s rib and made the man squeak. Of course, Viktor couldn’t help but take advantage, constantly reminding Jayce that, ‘yes, I remember, and technically speaking, I could use this information against you anytime I want.’

But really tickling? Burying his fingers into the flesh and digging there with enough gentleness to make Jayce laugh the way he is right now with his head thrown back into Viktor’s lap, caught up in breathless laughter and little squirms he couldn’t control…

...Yeah, this is certainly a first.

Though, Viktor’s not complaining. It’s quite hard to beat a view as cute as this one.

“Plehease!” Jayce begged through his giggling, shaking his head side to side. He wiggled helplessly on Viktor’s lap, but still kept his weight almost entirely off Viktor’s bad leg.

This man is so sweet it’s giving Viktor a toothache.

“What are you begging for? You started this, you were practically asking for it,” Viktor teased, grinning when he saw how flushed Jayce looked at his comment.

His fingers found a spot right near the top of Jayce’s ribs, and the man under him jolted with a cackle.

“I did nohot!” Jayce argued pitifully, still doing nothing to push Viktor away and stop his assault.

If anything, it almost looked like he was trying hard not to stop him. His fists were balled up, occasionally gripping onto his own shirt like he needed something to grab onto. He was just…taking it.

Oh this could be very interesting if Viktor’s current theory proves correct.

Suddenly, Viktor stopped the wiggling of his fingers, keeping them still and motionless underneath the man’s arms. Jayce panted through his remaining giggles, twitching like he was expecting it to start up again at any point.

His smile never left, wide and bright as ever. Viktor could feel the man’s anticipation under his fingertips.

And Jayce looked positively giddy with it.

Viktor tilted his head in curiosity as he looked down at Jayce in his lap, his face upside-down from this angle. “Are you having fun down there?” He asked, taking advantage of Jayce’s loose tongue.

Jayce’s giggles just started anew, and Viktor didn’t have to move a muscle to prompt it.

“Stohop.”

“I did stop. Almost thirty seconds ago, I might add.”

Jayce’s nose scrunched up from his snickering, “I take it back. You are not nice.”

“Oh?” Viktor’s voice tilted, giving the fingers under Jayce’s arm an experimental curl.

Jayce jerked with giddy panic at the feeling, “Noho wait! You’re nice, you're nice, you’re so nice–! Plehease!

Viktor shook his head fondly, “Are you actually this ticklish or are you just drunk?”

“Mmmhm, probably both” Jayce smiled wide, looking through his lashes up to Viktor. They both just stared at each other for a moment, Jayce with excited anticipation in his eyes, and Viktor…well, he could only assume he looked about as smitten as he felt. Again, hopefully Jayce was too drunk to notice.

Then Jayce squirmed with a hummed, mischievous giggle in his throat, before lifting his arms and wrapping them around Viktor’s waist, locking his own fingers together behind his slender back. He was looking at Viktor with a little challenge in his eyes, as if saying, ‘bet you won’t.’

Viktor’s own eyes widened, his jaw slacking in fond shock with a curl to the corner of his lips. Jayce cannot be serious.

“Is this an invitation, Jayce?” He asked with a skeptical chuckle, lifting his fingers to hover just above Jayce’s armpits and wiggle teasingly. At the sight, Jayce giggled hard and shut his eyes back up, his elbows flinching at the thought.

“Noooo,” he said, his smile betraying his words.“Just…gettin’ comfy.”

Viktor hummed, “Could you open your eyes then?”

Jayce’s eyes scrunched tighter. “No way.”

“Why not? You don’t like the view?”

“Oh shut it, you know that’s not why,” Jayce huffed, the grin just unable to leave his face. “No, m’just comfy. And if I can’t see you then…” he pulled his lips in like his next words were crawling out of him against his will. “...then, you can just do whatever you want. I dunno.”

Oh, Viktor is going to eat this man alive.

“So that’s what this is then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you might.”

“Nope. Nuh uh. Shut up.”

“You’re telling me to shut up? In your position?”

Jayce threw his head to the side bashfully, his lips pressed together on a shy smile. “Hm?”

Viktor snickered, “You are actually asking for it. Oh you’re going to hate yourself for this in the morning, aren’t you?”

Jayce snickered, burying his face into the crook of his elbow, “I think I’ll just be glad I got it over with.”

“Oh? This is something you’ve wanted for a while then?” Viktor asked through a grin, before bringing down his index fingers to slowly, teasingly scribble into Jayce’s pits (because god, looking at Jayce like this, all inviting and practically begging for it, waiting any longer to strike would’ve probably killed them both).

Jayce yipped, his elbows jerking inward and nearly covering his entire face. The fabric of Jayce’s dress shirt created a smooth glide under Viktor’s fingernails that he was sure felt torturous.

His arms shook with the effort to keep them locked behind Viktor’s back, but somehow he stayed put.

Not, of course, without giggling his head off at the lightest of touches under his arms, his heels digging into the couch cushions.

“Mahaybe-!” He managed through light, breathy laughter. His giggling sounded almost nervous, like he knew just how much worse this could get for him.

Viktor adjusted his jaw on his smile, throwing a look to the side like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew Jayce was a massive lover of physical affection, but good god, Viktor didn’t realize how much he’d like giving it to him.

So Viktor looked back down, getting into character. He’s never really tickled someone before, but he’s more than happy to learn with Jayce as his willing subject.

“There’s no way you’re going to be able to keep your arms up. I’d bet money on it.”

“You hahave– aHk-! Suhuch little faith in mehe!” Jayce joked, doing a much better job keeping composure under these circumstances than Viktor ever could.

Ignoring his comment, Viktor moved his hands lower on Jayce’s torso to pinch at his ribs meticulously, plucking at each one at the top. He got quite a rise out of the way Jayce’s giggles raised in pitch and panic, his legs kicking on their own accord.

Jayce’s desperate smile looked like it was going to burst at the seams.

“Ohoh no fahair!” Jayce whined, his eyebrows pinched together from frantic laughter. His face was so flushed, hair a tousled mess from his squirming, and Viktor felt himself growing warm at the sight.

Shit. Viktor really likes this.

“How is this not fair? You knew I was going to tickle you, so why does it matter where I do it?” He asked, and though he used a teasing tone, he was genuinely asking.

Weirdly, now that he’s realized how much fun this was, Viktor wants to approach this from a scientist’s perspective. Test theories, make conclusions, and above all, experiment.

“Becahahause!” Jayce threw his head to the other side, like he’s trying to block his face from all angles. “It– gghaAHha noo!– it’s wohorse!”

“How, Jayce?” Viktor paused his fingers, keeping them poised sharply against Jayce’s top rib. Jayce pouted, letting out another one of his famous whines. “I want you to tell me.”

“Uuugh,” Jayce groaned, looking pained in the best way that Viktor’s prying this information out of him. “It’s just…when you get all pinchy…it feels worse.”

Viktor hummed. “Worse in a bad way?”

Jayce just stared back at him with pinched lips like he’d been caught.

So Viktor grinned. “Ah. Worse in a good way then, hm?”

Jayce’s eyes shut tight, his mouth spreading into a bashful smile that looked impossible to fight back.

“So if I were to, say, do this-” Viktor pinched harsher at Jayce’s ribs, staying near the top and really letting his fingers dig in between the bone, practically vibrating into the flesh.

Jayce immediately arched through a cackle, his chest bouncing with the force of it. His face looked gleefully desperate.

“Noho don’t-!”

“-It would tickle worse than if I were to do this-?” He switched tactics quicker than Jayce could process the feeling, his fingertips softening along the ribs and skittering over the smooth fabric of Jayce’s shirt.

He could still feel the bones under his fingers through the thin fabric, feeling the way Jayce’s body jumped underneath him, and the sensation made Viktor’s stomach flip in excitement.

The change in tickling made Jayce stumble over his laughter, keening through the feeling as his laughter morphed from something deep and desperate, to a lighter, bubblier sound that made his ears turn pink.

“Gghk-hah- aha shihit!” Jayce could barely speak, so visibly flustered by Viktor’s teasing. It made Viktor feel something powerful yet caring surge through him. He was controlling Jayce’s reactions, forcing torturous sensations upon him and pulling humiliating sounds from his throat, and Jayce was loving every second of it. “I– I cahan’t!”

Viktor cooed, “Aw, but you are Jayce Talis. You can do anything you put your mind to, no?” The words flowed like butter off his tongue, the teasing coming so natural to him. He’s spent so long messing with Jayce in their lab, it’s like he knows the exact buttons to press now that he’s got him hysterical under his fingers.

And when Viktor began moving his hands inward, fingers spidering towards Jayce’s bouncing stomach, it seemed that was Jayce’s breaking point. With a frantic shriek he shot his arms down to protect his middle, his knees folding into himself as he quickly curled onto his side, still on Viktor’s lap.

Viktor’s brows shot up in surprise at such a reaction, biting his lip on an amused smile. He brought his hands up to comfort a still-giggling Jayce, smoothing over his shoulder as he caught his breath in Viktor’s lap.

Viktor clicked his tongue. “I’m guessing the stomach is an off-limits spot, then?”

Jayce huffed a chuckle into Viktor’s thigh. Even drunk, he’s kept his weight entirely off Viktor’s bad leg through the whole ordeal, and even now brings a hand down to massage into the flesh the way he knows soothes Viktor’s aching muscles. Viktor felt his heart clench at such a caring action, wanting to lean down and kiss all over Jayce’s head and the mess of hair that covered it.

“Not off-limits,” Jayce started, his words mumbled into the fabric of Viktor’s pants. “There’s just no way I can keep my arms up if you’re there. It’s pretty bad.”

“Noted,” said Viktor, “I’ll remember to get you nice and secure next time.”

Jayce shot his head up, looking at Viktor with wide, nervous eyes. “N-Next time?”

God, Viktor wanted to just squeeze Jayce until he popped. “What, you didn’t like it? You looked like you were having a ball down there.”

Jayce flashed another shy, closed-mouth smile, his eyes darting away. “Well, I– I just thought that it wasn’t something that…well, something that you would wanna do again,” Jayce shrugged, “You’re not usually playful like that.”

And he’s right, usually Viktor wouldn’t indulge himself with such an outward display of childishness. He’ll tease, oh how he teases, but getting too physical always felt like some barrier he’d have to forge a long path toward tearing down.

Turns out, that barrier was a lot easier to cross when Jayce made it so clear how badly he wanted it from Viktor.

“Well,” Viktor started, smoothing his thumb over Jayce’s shoulder and feeling warm when Jayce leaned into his palm, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself so much. I expected you to push me away, and then…you didn’t. Once I realized you seemed to like it, I found myself enjoying it too,” he said, before chuckling softly, “As odd as it may be.”

Suddenly, the top of Viktor’s hand was enveloped with Jayce’s own (Viktor knew his hands were smaller than his partner’s, but good god, it pretty much wrapped entirely around his own), and it didn’t seem like Jayce even realized what he was doing. He was just savoring every bit of affection Viktor gave him, and indulged himself as he pleased.

As it seemed, Viktor could learn a thing or two from Jayce, and he really, really wanted to.bx

“You caught me, I liked it,” Jayce mumbled, his words slurred and sleepy as he made himself comfy over Viktor’s lap, leaning his weight on the good leg. “But…I just really like when you’re like this. It’s fun.”

Viktor was glad Jayce’s eyes had slipped shut, because the look on his face had to be painfully obvious. He felt so warm, his insides turning gooey when Jayce snuggled the side of his face into Viktor’s thigh.

Jayce is so honest. Too honest. Viktor loves and envies him for it so deeply. He can’t understand how Jayce is able to roll those words off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, like it isn’t painful to admit.

Viktor wants to learn how for Jayce. He’s a smart man, they both are. Maybe it’s not as hard as he made it out to be in his head.

He turned his palm up to squeeze Jayce’s, exhaling shakily when Jayce squeezed back gently, tired. “I like when you’re like this too, Jayce,” Viktor practically whispered, hoping his kind words were the last thing Jayce heard before falling asleep.

—

Jayce woke up to the smell of coffee.

And just as soon as that warm smell hit him, a pounding pain behind his eyes seemed to hit even harder.

Jayce groaned. As he slipped his eyes opened, he realized the sun had a fucking vendetta against him this morning, its rays shining through the window directly into his eyes and going straight to that source of pain in his head. He threw his arm over his face with another groan.

“I think I’m dying.”

“Well good morning to you too.”

Jayce huffed, suddenly remembering where he was. “Coffee’s on?”

He heard a little hum of confirmation from the kitchen, slumping further into the cushions. Jayce sighed, “I don’t think I even drank that much last night. I don’t know why I feel like actual death incarnate.”

“Oh no, you definitely drank too much. You had some of the punch, yes?”

Jayce peeked over the arm of the couch, sparing Viktor a furrowed brow. “Yeah?”

Viktor smirked, grabbing the coffee pot to pour into their respective mugs. “I suspect it may have been spiked. Everyone that touched that bowl went home slung over someone else’s shoulder.”

Jayce buried his forehead in his arm with a frustrated sigh. “That explains…so much.”

He heard the familiar click of a cane coming his way, lifting his head to meet Viktor’s gaze with a tired chuckle. Viktor handed him his coffee before seating himself down next to Jayce, blowing the steam off the top of his own cup.

“So…” Viktor started, not even glancing at Jayce as he grinned down the rim of his coffee. “...tickling, hm?”

Jayce choked on the coffee he had been trying to swallow down.

Viktor took Jayce’s cup and sat it down on the table to pat his back through the coughing fit, that calm and collected look on his face never wavering. Jayce felt himself burning to the touch.

“I– uh, I don’t– heh, it wasn’t like that–”

“Jayce,” Viktor commanded Jayce’s gaze with his voice. Jayce’s eyes were wide, biting down on his lip in embarrassment.

Viktor just smiled warmly. “I know how you are about physical affection. I’ve received more hugs from you in the past few months than I probably have in the last decade.”

Jayce nodded to show he was listening, but felt himself sadden a bit at the passing comment. How could anyone not want to hug Viktor?

Sure, he’s a bit bony, and is maybe a little intimidating when you first meet him, but Jayce had Viktor in a tight embrace within their first few months of acquaintance. Jayce can’t help but throw an arm around him any chance he can get. He’s just…touchable.

Still, Viktor continued, “And though I’m not one to usually give out such affections myself, you seemed…very happy last night.”

He twisted his lips, thinking of how to word it. “I’m unsure if the whole tickling thing specifically was just a manifestation of your intoxicated state, or if it’s something you also crave when you’re sober,” he tapped a nervous finger against the mug. “Nonetheless…I found myself enjoying it as well.”

Viktor shrugged, but looked a bit embarrassed at the admittance. “I’m sure you don’t remember details, but you told me last night that you had been hoping for something like that to happen for a while now,” he said, giving Jayce a hard, concentrated stare that made him nearly shiver. “Was it just my offering of physical affection that you wanted? Or…the specifics of how I handed it out last night?”

God. Jayce isn’t sure whether to be elated or mortified by how scientific Viktor was handling this.

He loves how Viktor’s accent curls around the words and makes them sound so clinical and professional, but he could also feel how hot his face was burning at the sound and was frankly a bit too embarrassed to answer in the same dignified manner.

“Um…” he started, cringing at the sound of his own wavering voice. “Sort of…both? I think?”

Viktor nodded, his face set in concentration on Jayce’s. Jayce felt so observed, and it made eye contact very hard.

“I do like the, uh…the– y’know-”

“The tickling?”

Jayce huffed, bringing a hand to his face. “Yeah. That.”

Viktor grinned. “You struggle to say the word?”

“In this context? Yeah. A lot.”

Viktor just pinched his lips on a smile. “Please, continue.”

Jayce sighed, “So, I do like that part specifically. Like, kind of a lot.” He shrugged shyly, bringing a knee to his chest to lean on, “But, you’re right, it isn't just that. I…do really like when you touch me in any way,” he said, before stammering, “Wait– that sounds weird but, you know what I mean.”

Viktor nodded once, “I do.”

Jayce exhaled like he’d been holding his breath, picking at the fabric of his pants anxiously. Shit, he never changed clothes last night. His shirt’s probably wrinkled to high hell right now. He must look like a mess.

Jayce ran fingers through his hair and looked down at the cushion of the couch. How is he supposed to tell Viktor how much he wants to touch him, to be touched by him, to feel every fabric of Viktor’s being under his fingertips and have the same done to him, without it sounding as romantic as it feels?

He doesn’t want to scare Viktor off by admitting how he’s felt about him for the past…god, who knows how long by now, but with the way this conversation is going, it doesn’t seem like he’s getting out of it any time soon.

Jayce bit the inside of his lip. “I do remember last night. Not every detail, but I do remember bits and pieces,” he glanced at Viktor through his eyelashes. He looked so focused on Jayce, hanging onto his every word. “You seemed like you were having fun too.”

Viktor’s expression remained unchanged, but Jayce swore he saw his cheeks flush. “I was. I’ve told you that, you putz,” he taunted, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “You’re trying to change the subject— that subject being you.”

Jayce chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Okay, fine. What do you wanna know then?”

Viktor took a sip from his coffee, eyeing Jayce down over the mug the entire time. Jayce suppressed a squirm at the lingering gaze. When he swallowed, he sat the mug down in one swift movement, before leaning back himself.

“Is it a kink thing?”

Jayce thought his own eyes were going to bulge out of his head, his body suddenly running dangerously hot. Okay, now he’s squirming.

“Uh–” he stammered, chuckling nervously. “I mean, I guess it can be? I’ve never…tried it like that before or anything, but I don’t think I’d be opposed.” He scratched the back of his neck just to do something, anything with his hands.

Viktor just kept watching him, and the realization that Jayce might be implying something with his words made him fumble.

“But that wasn’t– that’s not how I felt about it last night, if you were wondering. Not that I wouldn’t– I mean…god, I can feel how red my face is right now, you are the worst.”

Viktor couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that. He leveled his stare with a smile. “I’m not sorry. It’s quite amusing to see the Man of Progress squirm through such a confession,” he said, before giving a little shrug like this conversation wasn’t picking Jayce apart at the seams. “And, for the record, if it had been a kink thing…I wouldn’t have been opposed.”

Jayce’s mouth hung open slightly in shock. “Wha—Are you serious?”

Viktor smirked. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, of course it’s not! I’m just… a little surprised, is all. That you’d be willing to, y’know, do something like that with me,” he said, greatly underexaggerating the feelings coursing through him right now.

If the butterflies in his stomach were real, they probably would’ve eaten through Jayce’s body and infested the entire house by now. He can feel his own heart hammering in his chest, and he’s trying very hard not to get shaky.

Jayce bit his lip. “I mean. I’m not saying no, but maybe…maybe sometime in the future is all.”

No one has ever known this about him. He’s open about his love of affection, sure, but the tickling part? For some reason, that had always been kept close to his chest, something too vulnerable and embarrassing to say out loud.

So for Viktor to know, and be so clearly fascinated by it, was eating Jayce alive. He’s loving every ounce of this humiliating attention, but he doesn’t know how much more he can take of not having Viktor wreak havoc over every sensitive spot he’s hidden for so long.

Viktor hummed, setting his cup down on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at Jayce anymore, and his demeanor seemed almost…nervous now.

He was biting the inside of his lip the same way he does when he’s cutting it close on an important deadline, and his thumb tapped impatiently on the knee of his bad leg. And Viktor being nervous made Jayce feel nervous, almost hearing the thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears.

Viktor clicked his tongue. “I think it’d be stupid not to say something at this point,” he started, and Jayce felt his heart stop when Viktor leveled an anxious glare his way.

“Last night made me realize that, though I don’t like giving affection away to just anyone…” he smiled something warm and sweet. “...I like giving it to you. When I do, your face lights up something vicious, yet calm in me. I enjoy the feeling very much, and I can only hope you feel the same.”

Jayce felt his breath leave him. He smiled hard, reaching a hand out to grip Viktor’s. Viktor chuckled at the gesture, and squeezed back.

“I do, V. So much, you don’t even know,” Jayce breathed, scooting close to gather as much warmth from the man as he could. He tucked his face into Viktor’s neck, feeling light knowing Viktor enjoyed this just as much as he did. “Anything with you makes me happy.”

Viktor huffed a small laugh through his nose, bringing his free hand up to smooth up and down Jayce’s back. “You know…” he started, leaning his head back to look at Jayce properly, “I’m quite glad you’re such a lightweight, otherwise I don’t know if we’d have ever gotten to this point.”

Jayce snickered into Viktor’s neck, making the man scrunch slightly on a smile. “Yeah, me too.”

And before he could stop it, Jayce found himself kissing softly at Viktor’s neck, slow and nervous but still so sweet with intent. He heard Viktor gasp, his head scrunching slightly against Jayce’s own.

“Ah– Jayce-”

“Is this okay?” Jayce whispered, his voice breathy with nerves. He kissed again, this time even softer and more hesitant with his question in mind.

And Viktor giggled.

Jayce smiled against the skin, “What are you laughing at?”

Viktor pushed at Jayce’s head, his own voice light with joy, “Your stubble is dreadful Jayce, stop!”

“Oh it’s dreadful is it? Bet you’re just full of dread right now–” Jayce grinned, very purposefully rubbing his mouth and chin all over the sensitive expanse of Viktor’s skin, smiling even bigger when Viktor fell into choked giggles and squeaks he was clearly trying to contain. “What’s wrong, V? Can’t take your own medicine?”

“You are a menace!” Viktor’s voice was so pitchy, Jayce couldn’t stop smiling if he tried. He couldn’t help but nip gently at the spot under Viktor’s ear, squeezing his arms around Viktor’s waist affectionately when the man cackled and pushed against him half-heartedly.

“No-! Horrible! You are–ahaha-!” Viktor melted into helpless giggles when Jayce’s fingers started pinching at his sides, soft and sweet and torturous. “F-Fuhucker!”

Then, Viktor seized Jayce’s wrists with a sudden urgency, and Jayce pulled off with a small look of concern. “Sorry, I just– I thought-”

“You are fine, Jayce,” Viktor panted through a little leftover smile. He brought his face closer to Jayce’s, so close the tips of their noses brushed, and Jayce’s lashes fluttered. Viktor grinned all smug, “I just figured, you may wish to kiss properly instead.”

Jayce breathed, nodding like an eager puppy, “Yeah. Yes, please.”

Viktor hummed in agreement. Then, finally, he closed the gap with intimate softness, brushing his lips teasingly against Jayce with a little breath of his own. Once Viktor had their lips locked together, he pushed forward with a sudden neediness Jayce had never seen in him.

Jayce made a pitiful sound into the kiss, letting Viktor lead their way through it. Viktor cupped his hand around Jayce’s cheek, and the other man eagerly placed his own on top, desperate to feel any and all of Viktor’s warmth.

And Jayce couldn’t help it, he was completely unable to keep quiet about just how much he was enjoying this.

He panted little gasps when they broke apart, moaned when Viktor finally let his tongue slip through and grazed Jayce’s teeth. He felt Viktor’s hand slip up his shirt, and with how hot everything had been getting, was expecting a different kind of touch than the one he got.

Fingers curled softly at the back of Jayce’s ribs, wiggling soft and featherlight at the sensitive skin. Jayce made the most humiliating sound into Viktor’s mouth, a noise between a giggle and a moan, and Viktor hummed all smug in return. The sound made Jayce’s mouth tingle as his back instinctively twitched away from the soft touch, though Viktor’s fingers always followed.

“V-Vik–”

“You’re so sensitive, Jayce. Ticklish,” Viktor drawled, and Jayce felt himself shiver at the word. “And, if you’d allow me…” he leaned into Jayce’s ear, making sure his lips brushed feathersoft against the skin just to make Jayce tremble. “I’d like to find every spot that makes you tick.”

Jayce felt his entire body flush red hot.

“You are way too good at this.”

Viktor just kissed him again, mumbling into his lips, “I remember something about you owing me? Does this ring any bells?”

Jayce whined through a smile, hiding his face into the crook of Viktor’s neck. “You are evil. Pure, pure evil.”

Viktor chuckled, pinching his fingers into Jayce’s ribs, then not moving his fucking fingers. Jayce felt like a live wire, entirely tense and way, way too excited.

“Yes, yes. So evil,” he teased, crooking his fingers just slightly to make Jayce whine through a giggle. “Now. Try to stay still, yes?”

Jayce was never going to live this down.

He’s never been happier to owe anyone anything in his entire life.

…

a/n : tysm for reading! ik this was long but i couldn’t help myself they’re so cute and i just kept needing to write more and more LOL. hope u guys enjoyed and again, happy new years to everyone!! luv u guys MWAH <3

#tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #arcane tickling #jayvik tickle #arcane tickle #jayvik tickling

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thisapplepielife · 17 days ago

Text

Written for @steddiebingo.

Black Velvet, If You Please

It's tacky. Kitsch. An oversized eyesore.

And it's perfect.

Steve couldn't be more pleased. It's exactly what he envisioned and more when he commissioned it.

He watches the artist carefully wrap it, then with their help, Steve picks up one side of the frame, both of them wrangling it carefully so they don't drop it, and carry it out to the waiting car. Gareth's behind the wheel, engine running, like he's the driver of a getaway car.

He kind of is. Eddie's gonna consider this a crime.

And Steve loves it.

They very carefully place it in the folded down backseat of Gareth's ridiculously huge SUV, which for the first time in history actually came in handy. Steve shakes the artist's hand, and then climbs in the passenger side.

"Well. Let me see it," Gareth says.

"It's wrapped, you can see it when we get it to the house," Steve explains. He's definitely not unwrapping it until they get it home safely.

Gareth mutters, but agrees, and puts the car into drive.

Heist over, bounty secured.

Once it's safely hidden away inside the pool house, Steve gently peels back the brown paper and cardboard that has been protecting it.

Gareth leans forward, as if that'll help him get a better look. It's huge. He could see it from across the lawn.

"Holy shit," Gareth says.

"I know," Steve laughs, delighted.

"It takes talent to craft something so magnificently ugly," Gareth says, and Steve agrees. It's ugly because it's on black velvet. That's kind of its thing. But it's not technically bad, nowhere near. It looks just like Eddie, and cost a pretty penny, but Steve definitely got his money's worth. Because the painting is damn good, and exactly what he commissioned.

But utterly and completely ridiculous.

Eddie — on black velvet.

Christmas is gonna be so good this year.

"Why are you talking all the pictures off the wall?" Eddie asks, laying on the couch, eating popcorn, watching the annual A Christmas Story marathon. He's said he isn't moving today, and Steve is taking advantage of that. Eddie won't ask too many questions, for once in his life. Because if he does, he's scared he'll have to help.

"Gonna dust the frames, maybe change things up," Steve says, clearing off the entire wall behind the couch.

Eddie just shrugs, and goes back to watching the Bumpus hounds wreak havoc on the turkey dinner.

And Steve turns back towards the wall, grinning to himself, as he carefully measures, then drills the new holes in the wall to anchor it.

It's like a black ops mission. Steve crawls out of bed just after four a.m. and when he gets downstairs, Gareth, Jeff and Goodie are all standing around waiting.

"Sorry. Overslept. I couldn't set an alarm," Steve whispers, and they just nod, looking tired. He appreciates them all getting up early on Christmas morning just to help pull this off.

Steve stands on one of the dining room chairs, Jeff on another while the other two hold the bottom of the giant frame.

"This is a ridiculous way to spend money," Goodie grumbles.

"Says the man with so many basses that he needs storage units, plural," Gareth banters back.

"Those are for work," Goodie snaps, a little too loudly.

"Sshh!" Steve shushes.

And in an unprecedented move, they stop fussing and fighting.

It's a Christmas miracle.

They get it hung, and the holes Steve drilled yesterday actually work perfectly. He was worried his measurements would be off, and then they'd be screwed. Eddie can sleep through anything, but maybe not power tools in the middle of the night.

"He's gonna shit," Jeff says, and Steve giggles. That about sums it up.

They scatter, back to their own homes, their own families, and Steve goes back to bed.

With no kids, Eddie isn't exactly raring to hop out of bed first thing in the morning, even on Christmas. This will work in their advantage.

Steve stays still in bed, waiting until he hears the first signs of movement from downstairs. They're back. After having Christmas morning with their families, they've all returned to see Eddie's face when he notices this thing for the first time.

Steve gets up, and heads down, and with help gets brunch started. They always do a full spread, the works, and today is no exception. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, ham steak, hash browns, and every burner and the oven are being fired up all at once.

The kids are all screaming at a dull roar, showing each other their new toys from Santa, and Harrington House feels like a home in a way it never did while Steve was growing up.

He loves it.

They finally hear Eddie moving around upstairs. He's loud, by nature, so there was no chance he was gonna sneak up on them.

Steve carefully wrapped the front of the painting after it was hung, anyway, so even if he did, they wouldn't miss his reaction.

"He's coming," Gareth says, stating the obvious.

"He's gonna kill you," Goodie says to Steve, "and I'm gonna tell him Gareth helped."

Gareth makes a noise, and Jeff steps in to intervene. They can't have bloodshed before breakfast.

Then Eddie's coming, heavy feet bounding down the stairs, and they all freeze. Waiting for him to go through the living room.

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie hollers, "Steve?!"

Steve just smiles, and throws his tea towel over his shoulder. When he walks through the doorway, everybody following, Eddie is standing in front of the wrapped painting.

"I don't know. Santa must have brought it," Steve lies, and Eddie turns to look at him.

"What'd you do?"

"Open it and find out," Steve says, and Eddie grabs a corner of the wrapping paper and tears. It doesn't come off in full, but it reveals a hint at what's to come.

"You did not," Eddie says, as he pulls more of the paper loose.

Steve did. He definitely did.

Eddie bends over at the waist and laughs, "I hate you. I hate it."

Then, he stands up, throwing his arms around Steve's neck, "I love it. I love you."

Steve laughs, that's about what he expected. And Eddie pulls away to study it again, as all their friends hoot and holler in the background, riling him up further as they all look at it.

Eddie, painted in his onstage glory, young and wild, on black velvet.

Steve watches as Eddie reaches out to touch the canvas, "Black velvet. Like I'm Elvis."

Yep. That's exactly what Steve had in mind.

Eddie turns back to grin at Steve, "Has Wayne seen this yet?"

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun!

Notes: The "painting" image is from this statue of Eddie that's for sale. I thought I could make it look more like a painting than an actual picture from the show.

The title come from the song Black Velvet by Alannah Myles.

#steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo #prompt: velvet #bingo event: 12 days of christmas #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #steddie fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiebingo #gareth stranger things #corroded coffin #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things

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pomefioredove · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii! I adore your writings especially the vill fics thank you for blessing us vil fans 😭🙏💕

Can you please write soulmate au with vil and the perks of being soulmate with him? Thank youuu

thank you so much, that's so sweet!!! and OHHH soulmate.... so good

summary: soulmates type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, lovesick vil forever

Vil Schoenheit had always deemed the existence of "soulmates" to be a thing confined in the lines of a poem.

Ever the rationalist, Vil hadn't even entertained the fantasy of meeting his "perfect match", if such a person even existed. His life was not that of a cheesy movie script he'd turn down.

Finding someone who could cope with his strict lifestyle would be a miracle in and of itself.

...And if you had asked Vil Schoenheit what his image of the perfect partner would be, he would say exactly that.

Someone beautiful, intelligent, responsible, with the dedication and discipline to keep up with him.

Spoken with a sardonic smile and honeyed words, Vil knew that his chances of actually finding someone to meet his standards, to keep up with him, were slim.

He couldn't have possibly imagined having to keep up with you, instead.

You were like a shooting star; swift and bright, moving faster than he could fathom, cutting through the dark parts of his life like a hot blade.

Something for him to wish on.

Beautiful.

Like nothing he could have ever imagined.

There was a radiance in everything you did, one that made your skin glow with or without products, a certain warmth that so contrasted the refined and elegant image he'd grown to associate with beauty.

Vil would eagerly tend to your every need. It was a dream just to touch you, to have the honor of pushing your hair out of your face.

He would savor every second of grazing your skin, of tracing your features with delicate fingertips, if only just to cleanse your pores after a long day.

With you, every simple action is beautiful.

Vil enjoys pampering people he cares for, and thus your life is full of high-end products, the best groceries money can buy, and his personal advice from the very second he sets eyes on you.

He would gladly do your personalized skincare routine with you every night and every morning if time allowed it.

2. Intelligent.

In such a way that makes him eager to understand you.

Really, it's your insatiable curiosity that draws him in.

He could spend hours upon hours simply listening to you talk. Your interests begin excite him just as much as they excite you, your passion for learning and creating capture his attention with ease.

There's never a dull moment between the two of you.

What others might consider useless conversations about trivial matters, Vil holds to the highest regard.

It comes to the point where he begins asking you for opinions, even if he knows he'll disagree with your answer, just to hear your perfect voice, just to watch your expression change in the way it does when you're thinking.

He's infatuated with your thought process, with the way your mind works.

Understanding you is not a labor, but a privilege.

3. Responsible.

To where all he could ask for is you and your gentle touch.

You care. Whether you're aware of it or not, you care so deeply about the people in your life, it almost puts Vil to shame.

Paired with your determination and resilience, and your ceaseless sense of independence, it's absolutely irresistible to him.

Vil is so unfamiliar with the way you treat him. Tenderly, and softly, like he's something that needs to be taken care of. You don't put him on a high shelf like a trophy, but carry him at your side, like a beloved doll.

He's never been at the receiving end of such consideration.

On the days where it feels as if the world is coming undone around him, he has somewhere to go. A place to hide, where he can forget all that he's supposed to be, and just simply be instead.

You are a home to him.

Vil knows that the both of you are perfectly capable (exemplary, even) at minding yourselves, though that's exactly what makes this tenderness you share all the better.

Independence is a gift, though one that he'll gladly set aside for a time, to be alone and soft with you.

4. Keeping Up.

Some days, it feels as if he's hanging onto you for dear life.

Afraid that if he looks away for even a moment, you'd vanish, leaving him alone with all of his naive, shallow thoughts on what his soulmate should be.

You're a dream to him. Far better than anything he ever could have asked for, or even imagined. He would be a fool to let you get away, he knows as much.

And perhaps he doesn't have the words to express it yet, perhaps he does. Perhaps these thoughts of his are tucked away in a journal, imbued in the lines of a poem, or in the color choices of a floral arrangement. Perhaps he whispers them to you in the early hours of the morning, still caught in that dreamlike space between sleep and wake.

One thing has become clear to him, though: Vil could never adequately describe all that he wants in a soulmate.

You're far too complex to put in a single sentence.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #queued

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luvyeni · 2 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ! ㅤ ㅤ𓂃 ㅤ박성훈

CHAPTER SEVEN. close proximity ... 「 materialist 」

ㅤ୨ৎ no one in your friend group couldn't understand why you and sunghoon stopped being friends after freshman year of college; they all chalked it up as for reasons only you and he knew about , you and sunghoon couldnt get along, and when he threatened to tell your brother something your deepest darkest secret you called him a virgin who couldn't read to your 24k fans and the name spread throughout the campus…

ㅤ𓂃 🎞️. chapter warnings. language, suggestive thoughts ( both of them are horribly down bad for each other ) word count. 1725

tapping your foot impatiently on the ground as you waited for the boy to answer the phone. “noona?” you scoffed. “don't noona me won , he's an hour late.”

“i know , i know he was caught up at work , he said he was on the way now.” your brother said , trying not to piss you off even more. “i told you i wasn't gonna wait , i didn't even want to do this.” you said. “yeah well now you don't have to worry about groceries.” he said. “i don't need the money won.” you never needed the extra money. “yeah well i figured you didn't since you were doing so well at the salon.” you hummed , you hated lying to him but you knew he'd judge; not to mention tell your parents. “i can always get a job.” he said.

“i told you, pay attention to school, i got you , im not struggling won.” you said. “just need him to hurry up , what if i needed to do something.” you questioned. “noona , you have his number , call him.” you scoffed. “it will be a cold day in hell before i ever call him , you'd have to be dying.”

“so me dying will get you to be cool again?” he said. “no , but i’d be good at your funeral , for your sake.” he gasped , you smiled. “rude , you two used to be inseparable , until you randomly called him a virgin who couldn't read.” you sighed , you never told him what happened , the real reason you and sunghoon stopped being friends. “i still don't understand.”

“understand what won?” you asked. “why you said that , it was so sudden , what happened?’ he curiously asked. “won some people change , things just change , we just drifted apart when we started college , do you still talk to anyone else from highschool ?” you asked. “besides the guys? no.”

“exactly.” you said. “yeah but the — won drop it , just call him and tell him to get his ass over here.” he whined. “fine why are you so mean.” you rolled your eyes hanging up. you hated how overbearing your brother could be sometimes; you loved but sometimes you questioned who was the oldest and who was the youngest.

it had been a while since you and sunghoon had been alone; most of the time the two of you hung out is when you hung out with the guys and even then it would always end in you and him being pulled away from each other , red in the face from anger.

if anyone was to see you guys and you told him you and him used to be closer than you and jake , they'd think you were crazy; but believe it or not you and sunghoon were super close until everything changed that one month before your second year of college…

there was a knock on the door that brought you from your thoughts; you looked at the time a hour and a half , that's how late he was. you were pissed; getting up from your couch, making your way over to the door. “who is it?”

sunghoon rolled his eyes. “unless you planned on having a guy over, who else would it be.” you scoffed. “yeah well , the dumbass that was supposed to be here is an hour late.” he hit the door harder. “open the door yn.” you unlocked the door , cracking it open. “give me the money.” you held your hand out. “you serious?” he said. “you want to be tutored right?”

he cursed , pulling out his phone; he typed in a few things, before turning it towards you. “happy?” you slammed the door in his face , he sighed; hearing the deadbolt unlock, the door finally opening. “never will i be happy about this.” you walked away , allowing him inside you home. “take your dirty shoes off.”

“if you're not happy then why are you doing this then?” he asked. “because of my brother.” he followed behind you. “you could fail for all i care , that just means you'd probably have to drop out and at least i wouldn't have to see you anymore.” you pushed the door open to your room. “yeah whatever.” he dropped his bag on the floor. “let's get this over with i have things to do later.”

“sure those girls who are constantly blowing up your phone can wait.” he watched you go around the room collecting all the books you'd need. “you sound like you're jealous.”

“of you? no, but i do feel bad for those girls , must be such a disappointment.” you didn't see his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “sit.” you pointed to the floor. “you're not sitting on my bed.”

upon sitting down he noticed the camera point at your bed. “filming something before i got here is a bit shameless , is that why i can't sit on the bed yet , cause you haven't changed the sheets.” you scoffed. “you wish you fucking pervert.” he watched you get up from the bed , pulling the camera off the tripod. “i didn't pay you 200 dollars to fuck around , i need help.” he said. “so help me.”

“i took the liberty in asking your teachers what you needed help in, and looks like i hit the jackpot , you suck at everything.” you said. “so help me , im paying you for a reason.” he said. “try opening the damn book.” he huffed , pulling out a textbook. “seriously are you dumb?” you picked up the book. “what that's the book.”

“yeah from last year , that's why you don't understand anything, you're reading the wrong fucking book.” you snatched it from him, throwing it in the trash. “i have to pay for those books, you know , i don't have extra cash like that.” you sighed , handing him the extra book you kept in case you yeojin lost the original. “keep it , use that one.” he took the book from you, watching you as you sat down. “now open it.”

three hours and four different books later; you were ready for him to go, even when you were close and and would study together , you hardly got any work done , and now that you two weren't close anymore his presence irritated you; but in some sick and twisted way , turned you on. the close proximity, and you both being alone ; and you not having any in a while outside of jake and that wasn't real , it was acting. and here he sat , in all his irritable but sexy glory— it made you mad.

“we're done , we took all the notes you will need , study that on your own , you fail not my problem.” you stood up from the bed , stretching; he looked up from the books , your shirt lifting revealing your stomach. “excuse me pervert.” you pulled your shirt down. “why are you still here?”

he stood up; looking at you once more, your tight tank top accentuating the curves that he not only saw on camera; but had the pleasure of seeing a few times in the past. “you're such a narcissist , not everyone is always staring at you , not everyone is a fan of you.” you scoffed. “but you are.” you mumbled , but he heard you. “such a bitch.”

he looked down for a quick second , then back at you. “you can seriously go now.” you said. “tell me do you always leave your toys around or is this some sick perverted thing you do to company.” you looked down and to your horror , one of the many toys you owned was laying on the floor. “get the fuck out now!” you shouted , kicking it under the bed. “calm down , im going after i use the bathroom , is this anyway to treat your guest?” he smirked walking out of the room. “you aren't a wanted guest!” you shouted back in response.

how could that have happened; you sat on the bed , yanking at your hair. “so embarrassing.” you screeched. “i’m gonna kill jungwon.” you flopped down on the bed , your phone buzzing beside you. “oh sunoo.” you cried out , picking up the device , think you'd be able to cry to your friend — except it wasn't your phone; it was sunghoons phone, he must've left it before going to the bathroom.

you were inclined to put it down , nothing inside that man's phone interested you; well at first. kingsteve.12.08 you knew that name from anywhere. “what are you doing?”

once he got to the bathroom; he shut the door with a sigh. the look on your face when he discovered your sex toy; the redness of your cheeks. “fuck.” he gripped the sink, he just had to find it. why did he have to find it? because now he couldn't get the picture of you using it out of his head. “i have to get out of here.” he said to himself, fearing what he might do if he didn't.

he made his way back to your room, ready to leave; but the smirk on your face made him curious. “what are you doing?” he said , his eyes going down to your hand , which held his phone. “using your english name was smart , i would've gotten that , but im surprised you used your birthday , because i know that.” soon his phone was pointing directly at him, his profile pulled up on the screen. “not only do you watch my content , you're my top subscriber.”

“give me that right fucking now.” he said. “now yn.” you scoffed. “this is just fucking great; now if you tell him this i just show him this and guess what?” sunghoon reached for the phone , but you pulled back. “try explaining that.”

he grabbed your wrist; you pulled your wrist. “let me go.” you yanked your arm, his eyes low , you gulp. “i said fucking let me go.” both of your faces red , anger? arousal who knows; but one thing is for sure , you both had to separate before you both did something you regret or one of you murdered each other , and with how big he was , he definitely had the upper hand on both ends.

snatching his phone away; pushing you down on the bed, putting it away. he picked his bag off the ground. “i really hate you yang yn.” he gritted through his teeth.

“right back at you park sunghoon.”

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