#friend(ly) valentine
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witchlingcirce · 2 months ago
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Looking back to TMI Clary whining is so valid, like no one would tell her ANYTHING.
Especially in city of glass, like I’m not kidding she was lied to and then again no one would tell her anything. Like she literally just wanted to save her own mum 😭😭 like I’m not kidding if I was her I would’ve whined MORE.
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How the fuck do I boy (<- in agony)
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brynn-lear · 8 months ago
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I never got too deep into enstars but there are days where I miss Mama 😔
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#no one should ever be surprised that I main Boothill >:( /silly#yeehaw partner /jjjjjjjjj#i also like eichi for the aesthetic. he's like if you mix dain's face and ayato's mindset. actual warcriminal emperor-#and i think in terms of singing kaito slays 🔥🔥🔥🔥 I'm sorry.#actually in terms of songs in general imho it's valkyrie and akatsuki HAHAHAH#then idk i think i vibe with most undead songs though i wish there were like valentine eve's nightmare-#PERFECTLY-IMPERFECT 🔥🔥🔥🔥#fORBIDDEN RAIN- okay ill#stfu abt undead songs HAHAH#me typing these tags just slowly but surely reminds me I actually very much enjoy adonis' voice#in terms of trauma I think I got it most from Eden songs HAHAHAHHA the fricking apocalypse dance shit i forgot name but THAT#i love how i went “oh i like undead too but not as much i guess” and then proceeded to talk about undead songs more than akatsuki#and valkyrie HAHAHAHHA I'm a fricking liar#HEY HEY i mostly like valkyrie cuz shu's voice is mesmerizing- and every song in akatsuki slays because of their vocals even if I'm not th#e biggest fan of their genre leave me alone my biggest taste in men depends on their voice 😭😭😭😭😭#though in terms of friendship MaM/DoubleFace CrazyB and alkaloid for sure we'd be friends absolutely-#i played the music!! one not the original and nothing got me as hyped in the story as the fricking crazy roulette HAHAHAHA#GOT ME FEELIN LIKE I WAS IN THE CONCERT#never be a loooooSAAAAAUURRRRR *breakdances*#kiss of life is also mwah they're all my children. i know nothing on properly playing this game but i know i tried to main the christian guy#produce? forgot name but HIM I also love his voice and I have one of his priest card so he fricking dances with the priest uniform HAHAHAH#random confession: i don't have a 5 star mama card. orz.#anyways back to regular chaos in the tags omg aira i remember him what a mood and also the phantom oh frick forgot his name but i have his#sanrio card HAHAHHA 😭😭 i haven't leveled it up. i don't play this religiously-#the grind feels so overwhelming and i understand nothing I'm still on the work task 2 thing HAHHAA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#most importantly i want to mention my redhead son i forgot his name but i love him very much my pretty son and his chaotic older bro i#support them both amen#as for fine. i don't really like most their songs that much...? okay this time I'm not lying like with Undead HAHAHAH I do vibe with#tempest nights for SURE absolute bop my dear blue haired clown is my fave fine member (as you can tell i love my loud girlies HAHAHHA)#most knight songs are bops and I like all the members- specially mister ensemble stRaws musiC (my other red haired son)
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li-nox · 8 days ago
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I did some doodling and thought it’d be nice to send out a late Valentine’s greeting to my (online) friends and mutuals. ’cause why not for friends, right?
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phagodyke · 1 year ago
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I love valentines day theoretically like I love what it's abt + the aesthetic is gorg + the buildup where I get to make cards is so fun + yummy sweets + also valentine is a sick ass name it's all round a pretty awesome holiday even if the commercialisation is annoying..... but also the day itself is nailbitingly stressful for me bc im so wildly insecure and rejection sensitive I find it really really hard to accept cards or even nice sentiment from other ppl. sorry im such a broken ass person that being told im loved makes me want to bash my fucking head in with a steel beam 🙂
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rafesangelita · 19 days ago
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♡ after receiving sex dice as a gag gift from your girlfriends, courtesy of your early galentine’s day party, you decide to bring them into the bedroom and rafe is surprisingly on board..
warnings: sex dice lol, established relationship, flirty banter, laughing during sex, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, so many descriptions of positions please bare with me, slight degradation, praise, rafe’s d game is a1 (!!!), marathon sex (?), overstimulation, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, cream pie
a/n: now presenting… ‘ROLL THE DICE!’ 🤍 i felt like i was at war while trying to explain these positions in clear detail lol, just know i tried my best!
link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི。- ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
wc: 2.4k
rafe had been eyeing the pink gift bag you brought back from your best friend’s house, his curiosity only growing when you refused to let him see what was inside. “just let me see! what is it? girl stuff?” you laughed, taking the bag in your hands. “you could say that..” your teasing tone was torturing him, the anticipation making rafe groan. “come on!” he finally reached for the bag, snatching it at the same time you pulled, making everything in the flimsy gift bag fall onto your bed. “well, that’s great..” you whispered, watching as your boyfriend inspected the contents.
“pink condoms.. we don’t use those. chocolates, a face mask, a sephora gift card, some earrings, and.. hey, what’s in this red pouch?” your cheeks heated as he pulled on the drawstring, two pink dice falling into his hand. “oh.. babe, this is sex dice!” he laughed, glancing up at you incredulously as you hid your face in your hands. “it’s just a silly little gag gift, nothing more.” you waved it off, taking a seat next to him on your shared bed. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it’d be fun to try out, but knowing rafe, you knew he wasn’t really one for games.
he studied them, flipping the many facets of the dice. “..i don’t know, they have some pretty good positions on here,” he shrugged, “what do you think?” your eyes shot up to meet his, a pang of excitement lighting up in your tummy. “r-really?!” you smiled, your boyfriend pulling you on top of his lap before he nodded. “yeah, look in that pouch for what the number dice means.” you obliged, taking the small folded up piece of paper that was the instructions. “oh, wow.. the number dice determines how many rounds we go.” rafe looked down at the small thing and laughed.
“it goes up to twelve,” your eyes widened as he handed you the acrylic piece, “go ahead and roll it.” you rolled onto your side, tossing the dice for both of you. “three.” rafe was starting to get excited now, his lips trailing along your neck as he gave you the dice with the positions on it. you two were easily doing more than that amount regularly. you giggled when his breath tickled your skin, your head moving to the side to allow him more access. rafe palmed you through your top, a moan leaving your lips as he ran his tongue along your flesh.
“roll the dice before i decide the positions for us.” he groaned, pressing a kiss to your jaw. sighing, you did as he said, reading the positions out loud for him. “the first one is..” you trailed off, “sixty-nine.” you laughed. rafe hummed approvingly, moving his gaze down to the comforter where you tossed the dice again. “next one is.. butterfly?” rafe mumbled a ‘we’ll look that up in a second.’ before you announced the last one. “which leaves us to do.. full nelson.” rafe might as well have jumped up and cheered by the way he excitedly shook you by your shoulders. “full nelson?! fuck, yeah!”
deciding it would be best to go in order of the dice, you and rafe found yourselves settling into your sheets, both of your clothes long gone as you turned your back to him, swinging a leg over his torso. rafe was shameless in staring at your glistening cunt, the sight of your wet folds making him take his bottom lip between teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty down here..” he marveled, taking the pads of his thumbs on both of your puffy lips before spreading them open, your needy clit revealing itself to him. you moaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as he squeezed the globes of your ass.
you adjusted yourself a little bit so you were more comfortable, scooting up closer to rafe’s face as he groaned at the proximity. he was already hard just by looking at you up close like this. “can we start, baby? i need to taste you already.” you hummed sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. while you started off slow, rafe dove right in, wrapping his large arms around your thighs to keep you in place. you gasped when his tongue circled your sensitive bud, your hips bucking at the sudden intrusion. “that feels so good, rafe!” you whined, deciding to put your mouth to better use and finally wrap your lips around his aching length.
“fuck!” he cursed, his fingertips digging into your skin as your tongue worked him skillfully. you knew what drove rafe over the edge, you knew what made him lose his breath and what made his chest feel like it was going to cave in. “ah, shit, you’re so good at that.” his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when he felt himself hit the back of your throat. rafe landed a harsh smack to your ass, the stinging sensation making you whimper. swallowing around his cock, you waited until you had tears running down your cheeks before pulling off of him with a sharp intake for air.
rafe could just imagine how much of a mess you looked like right now. swollen lips, watery eyes, spit and precum dribbling down your chin.. fuck he was tempted to drag you back up just to admire your pretty face. “you’re driving me crazy.” he huffed out, sucking your clit into his mouth where his teeth very slightly grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves. “please don’t stop!” rafe had no intentions of doing so, your boyfriend’s bruising grip on your thighs making you unable to move away from him. rafe knew you were close to cumming whenever you tried to run away from it.
swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, rafe felt the familiar tension start to build up in the pit of his stomach. he continued lapping at your sweetness until you started bobbing your head up and down his length, basically fucking your face with his cock. the wet sounds mixed with your moans was about to make rafe paint your face, but he decided against it last minute. “stopstopstopstopstop,” he pinched your side, “wanna’ save my cum for when i fill up this perfect cunt.” despite wanting to make him finish anyways, you did as he said, mumbling a ‘okay, ray..’
in almost no time, your thighs were trembling around his head, your nails raking down his skin as waves of pure euphoria washed over you, your orgasm hitting you deep in your tummy. with the side of your face resting on his thigh, you whined helplessly as your hips moved on their own accord, your hand still languidly stroking his length. you were begging him at this point for him to slow down the work on your poor overstimulated clit, your pleas going through one ear and straight out the other. “please, no more— i can’t do it!” you shrieked. rafe’s chest filled with pride knowing you were most likely ‘fucked out’ already without actually getting fucked yet.
you were struggling to move as rafe didn’t slow down his movements on your clit, another rubber band in your tummy snapping as he made you cum again, back to back. you laid there, completely at his mercy as you convulsed in his arms, your mouth open in a silent moan while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you felt like you had transcended into another dimension, your body simply floating away somewhere else. it wasn’t until you let out a choked sob that rafe gave you a final lick, his face shining with your succulence as he massaged your skin to bring you down from your high.
how, how were you supposed to go two more rounds after that? while you were laying there, your limbs feeling like jelly, rafe was googling the butterfly position and smirking to himself as he pulled up the visual. you had something else coming if you thought you were done for right now. rafe on the other hand was just getting started. gently rolling you over, rafe stood at the edge of your bed before yanking your ankles and securing your legs to his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his heavy cock sitting between your folds, your eyes meeting his as he pressed kisses to your ankles.
“you good?” he rested his hands in the crease where your thighs and your hips met, rubbing soothing circles there until you giggled softly. “not really..” rafe smiled, threading his fingers through yours. “tell me when you want to stop, baby, it’s all you.” you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt him teasing your clit with his tip. you loved how attentive rafe was. not only towards your wellbeing, but to the little things that made you whimper and squirm. “son of a bitch..” he cursed, slowly sliding into you with ease. your back arched off of the soft sheets, your eyebrows knitting together as he filled you to the hilt.
“fuck!” no matter how many times you and rafe had each other like this, the feeling of him filling you up and your velvety walls welcoming him in was unlike any other. rafe pulled out before thrusting back in with full force, his head rolling to the side as you cried out. you kept your eyes trained on his face, occasionally stealing glances at his toned stomach and biceps. he was truly a sight to see. your tits bounced with every thrust, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as his lower abdomen smacked the back of your thighs. “you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, “always so fuckin’ perfect.”
rafe picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the bed until he had to pull you down to the edge again. you moaned as his cock continuously nudged that sweet spot inside of you, your legs now shaking around his head while he managed to get his fingers on your clit again. you were still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but jolt at the hard circles being rubbed on your sensitive bud once again. rafe was so close, but he wanted to hold off from cumming for as long as possible, preferring to make you finish around him first instead.
“i can’t!” you gasped, “it hurts, rafe.” as soon as you said those words, he stopped. “yeah? it’s too much for you?” you nodded, your thighs shutting around his hand in response. he leaned down, keeping your legs on his shoulders as he kissed you sloppily. “would it make you feel better if we stopped?” you laughed, stroking the underside of his jaw with your finger. “do you hear me tapping out?” you shot back, “let’s try full nelson.” rafe has been waiting for this moment for a reallyyyy long time. the only reason why you two never got to it and made it a point to try it was unknown to him, but thank goodness for sex dice, right?
you didn’t have to tell him twice. he was already pulling you on top of him as soon as he got the okay. “i can’t believe this is happening.” you smiled as you lifted your legs, rafe wasting no time in bringing his arms up and over until his hands rested on the back of your neck, securing your thighs to your shoulders. your eyes widened slightly as you realized just how exposed and compromising this position was. your cunt was on full display, your folds threatening to open on their own as your head was forced to be faced down. “you alright?” rafe grunted, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“uh huh..” you sounded uneasy, a laugh falling from rafe’s lips as he adjusted himself to prod at your entrance. “don’t worry, i got you.” was the last thing he said before you watched him enter you agonizingly slow. your lips parted at the sight. rafe kept going until he bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you swear you’ve never felt him this deep before, it was almost like he was in your tummy. “oh my god..” you whimpered, your eyes watering at how full you were. rafe was fighting every urge not to spill into you, his eyes screwing shut as he began a steady pace.
“shit, you’re wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight, m’not gonna last.” he said through gritted teeth. you were hiccuping and panting as he thrusted into you from below, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin bouncing off of your bedroom walls. rafe angled his hips in a way that made you shriek, a knowing smile making its way to his lips as you now had tears streaming down your face. “i bet you look like a fucking mess right now.” he cursed, using one of his hands to snake down your side before giving your clit a small pinch. your head shot back while you looked up at the ceiling helplessly.
“r-rafe..” you were barely able to get his name out, your hands flying to hold onto his arm. you felt an unfamiliar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach as he continued rubbing your poor bud into your second orgasm of the night. “let it go go for me, ‘pretty, let me feel it.” you couldn’t even shut your thighs because of his strength forcing them open, a shaky breath emitting from your throat as your high ripped right through you, rendering you speechless almost immediately. rafe made sure to watch you intently, the sight of you unraveling making him follow suit.
it wasn’t until you felt a stream of wetness flow between your thighs that your eyes shot open in surprise. “did i just—” rafe let go of the grip he had on your neck and instead forced you to look up at him while he finally painted your walls with his seed. he was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. rafe kissed you as his movements came to a stop, your thighs still trembling in his arms while he pulled out. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, both of you feeling absolutely spent. “i think i made a mess.” rafe laughed softly, nodding his head. “yeah? that makes two of us then.”
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atxchiphxbix · 7 days ago
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just something small for my boy, a late valentine's day gift
Content. mdni afab + f! reader, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving), swearing, ig angst if u squint, caleb finishes in reader, L-word drop, he does call you pipsqueak im sorry, slight spoiler for 'verified rumor' memory
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fake boyfriend! caleb who calls you up one day, asking you to come to skyhaven for a teeny-tiny favor that only you can help him with.
fake boyfriend! caleb who tells you he'll do anything for you if you pretend to be his fake girlfriend because there are too many people interested in him and he doesn't want any of them (he's only wants you)
fake boyfriend! caleb who says this is a "win win" situation. He gets to fend off his admirers (prove that you belong to him) and you get some needed relationship experience in. Of course, it's all fake and there aren't any feelings at all — besides, you two grew up together and this is a normal thing, right?
fake boyfriend! caleb who is just so charismatic and falls perfectly in place as a boyfriend, your boyfriend. It's almost like he's made for you (he is)
fake boyfriend! caleb who introduces you as his needy girlfriend, with an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his warm, toned torso. The way he so easily takes on the role is absurd, the way he easily introduces you as his girlfriend sends your mind reeling but it feels so... right. It feels right in a way that causes your cheeks to burn and chest to tighten.
fake boyfriend! caleb who looks at you so fondly whenever you're interacting with one of his friends, telling them stories of how you and him 'met.' He feels his heart swell with so much love and he wants to kiss you until with lungs cripple and lips sore. It's even worse because you fill the role perfectly (you're made to be his) it only makes his pants tighter and the apples of his cheeks red.
fake boyfriend! caleb who keeps the act up even when his admirers die down and he isn't so bombarded with love letters and lunchboxes anymore. He keeps up the act long after you leave skyhaven, even carrying it over when he visits you in linkon, taking his precious girl out on dates and spending long nights at your apartment. You don’t even realize how cemented he is in your life, how your heart beats just a little faster when he nears you, placing a braised chicken wing on your plate or when he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
fake boyfriend! caleb who starts to feel a little less like a fake boyfriend and more like a real one. It begins to feel so much more real when you catch your heart stuttering in your chest, when you catch him gazing fondly at you, when you sleep in the same bed because you’ve begun to feel bad for making him sleep on the couch. It’s so much more real when you realize how easily he slots himself in your life, how routine it is that you don’t even have to change anything because he’s always been there. He’s always been there for you.
fake boyfriend! caleb who, once again, spends another night at your apartment. He’s in your bed this time, lying next to you as you use his arm as a pillow. His soothing fingers pat down your hair, your own trailing down his chest before resting on the expanse of flesh where his collar meets his jaw. It’s then you become alarmingly aware of the proximity, the shared breaths, and the intoxicating space between your bodies. You’re so close that you can count every speck of stars in his violet hues.
fake boyfriend! caleb who lets silence marinate between you two, neither wanting to break the thin veil that masks your relationship, whatever it is or whatever you want it to be. But he's the first to turn away, breaking the hypnotizing eye contact with you. He turns his face to bury in the soft pillow, ears, and cheeks flushed the same shade as his favorite asiatic apples. His voice comes out in the muffled murmur, you’d be unable to hear if you two weren’t so close.
“It’s late. You should get some rest, pipsqueak.”
A light scoff leaves your lips and disappointment stirs in your heart. You aren’t sure what drives you to surge forward, fingers fisting into the blue cotton of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and mushing your lips together. It’s messy and forceful but you’ll swear it isn’t your fault — it’s all because of Caleb. Everything is because of him.
You seal your lips together, spurred by sudden want and need, heat surges through your veins, fogging all logic in your fuzzy mind. The kiss is longer than it should be, a minute, two, or three until all the air crawls away and leaves your lungs crippling and aching for air.
And then, you breathlessly pull away. Out of breath like you’ve climbed to the top of the highest mountain, you think it might be similar to how you’re feeling right now. A familiar heat pools in your lower stomach when you brave to see the state Caleb is in.
fake boyfriend! caleb who’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen, and a heavy blush settled onto his pale flesh. His lavender eyes hold swirls of yearning and want, mirroring your own. Shared breaths and heated air are stifled between you and the pilot before he pushes forward, connecting your lips again with a needy groan that's greedily swallowed.
fake boyfriend! caleb who hovers over you, violet eyes boring into your soul. His hot breath beats against your cheeks, a quiet groan escaping his pretty lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, and it takes everything in him not to mark you up, to claim you.
“Did you mean to do that? Did you mean to kiss me?” His voice is soaked in desperation and he’s completely and utterly entranced by you. The pretty, sweet, stubborn girl from his childhood. The girl he’s watched grow up into the woman under him, the woman who has clawed into his heart, making a home of him.
fake boyfriend! caleb who loses his mind once he sees you nod your pretty head, teeth biting down on the plush of your lower lip. His body feels numbingly hot, the air is stifling, and his pants are suddenly too tight. He isn’t close enough, he wants — needs — to be closer. He wants to settle into your body, carve himself into your heart, meld his soul with yours. He wants whatever bone you’re willing to throw his way.
fake boyfriend! caleb who strips the two of you out of your sleepwear and in an instant, his lips are on yours. The kiss is in no way tranquil or soft, it’s greedy and messy, and downright sinful, pushing his tongue in your mouth and completely disregarding the mixed saliva that drools down the side of your mouths. He takes in all of you as he feverishly kisses his way down your body, biting and suckling at any glimpse of skin he can reach.
fake boyfriend! caleb who lavishes wet kisses from your breast and down to the navel of your body, fingers curling at the edge of your panties, inching the fabric down once he settles between your thighs. An audible groan is ripped from his throat when he sees how soaked you are, the fabric sticks to your skin as it’s peeled off with strings of your wetness clinging to the thin fabric. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when he comes face to face with the most intimate part of you and it’s better than any fantasy he’s ever had.
“Fuck, pipsqueak… you’re so soaked.” His voice comes out as a raspy cadence of love, eagerly pressing his nose to the wet material of your panties, taking in your scent.
fake boyfriend! caleb who suckles sloppy, dark hickies into the plush fat of your inner thighs, working his way up to your core. Bruises bloom across the expanse of your skin, trailing wherever his lips find purchase on you. You’re aching now, desperate for him to devour you but helplessly watching him litter his love on your thighs. Your fingers thread into his dark locks, pulling him closer with a soft whine.
“Caleb, please…” You can hardly recognize your own voice, whiny and needy for his lavish attention. “Please don’t tease.”
fake boyfriend! caleb who chuckles softly and abides by your sweet pleas. His soft, wet tongue makes contact with your soft folds, laving the wet muscle over your throbbing clit, groaning like a starved man at your sweet taste. It's better than he could've ever imagined. Spurred by the delicate harmony of your moans, he devotes himself to pleasuring you, intently watching your expressions with great care. He wants to know everything— what colors you blush, what makes your toes curl, he wants your fingers pulling at his hair, and whining his name like a prayer.
fake boyfriend! caleb who makes you cum alarmingly quick when he pushes two fingers into your sopping hole, stretching out his pretty girl. He watches his fingers piston in and out of your squelching hole, enamored with the way your cunt sucks him in like a black hole. Your cunt spasms around his digits, velvety walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you.
"You're so cute, pipsqueak. So, so cute." He coos, pressing light kisses to your throbbing bundle of nerves before smearing his fingers, covered in your release, across your lips.
fake boyfriend! caleb who asks for consent (he would never want to make you uncomfortable) before pulling out his cock. Your jaw falls slack when you see his pulsing length. He's big and thick with one prominent vein running on the underside and pearly beads of pre-cum dribbling from his tip. For a moment you wonder what it would feel like if it pulsed on your tongue, how it would feel to have him shooting ropes of cum into your womb. 'I'm screwed,' you think to yourself but your body opposes and your core aches to be filled again.
fake boyfriend! caleb who thinks he's just ascended above skyhaven when his tip notches against your entrance.
"Oh, fuck—" His forehead falls onto your shoulder, a series of whines and pleas falls from his lips, feverishly pressing kisses onto your skin, anything to make him last a little longer as he pushes inch by inch into the velvety walls of your tight cunt.
fake boyfriend! caleb who watches your eyes roll back when he finally bottoms out, balls resting against the soft curve of your ass. He takes a moment to admire your pretty frame, the sweat glistening on your chest, heavy breaths that leave your tits heaving, and the dull pain of your nails leaving crescent shapes in the meat of his biceps. Caleb doesn't think he can ever let you go.
"I love you. Fuck, I love you." The words fall from his lips like a mantra as he fucks you, folding your knees onto his shoulder. His cock splits you open, pressing and abusing your g-spot every time his hips meet yours. The room quickly fills with the harmony of desperate whines and moans, littered with I love you's that're quickly engulfed in messy, hurried kisses.
fake boyfriend! caleb who cums with you when you whisper your confession into his ear, like a little secret between the two of you. His hips stutter and he's suddenly shooting hot, white ropes of cum into your fluttering pussy, milking him dry and filling you up.
fake boyfriend! caleb who collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his toned arms and pulling you close to his warm body, pressing soothing kisses to your temple, cheeks, nose, and finally onto your lips.
"I love you," he confesses. His words are hushed and speak of the longing and teetering of the line that the two of you hesitated to cross for years.
"I love you too," you reply, pressing a trail of gentle kisses along his jaw as your fingers intertwine with his. Your body feels sore and full, heart content, and so, so loved.
He presses his lips to yours once again, smiling gently before soothing you to sleep. He'll always be by your side, no matter what happens. He'll be right there.
lovesick! caleb who... loves you a little more than you realize.
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first fic hehe
thx for reading <3
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 year ago
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from the start !
so. . what are we ??
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you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
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fanzou · 17 days ago
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I Can Love You
A VALENTINES SPECIAL
✗ Pairing: Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader
✗ Summary: You insist that Nico Robin is the right one for him, but he wants to show you why you’re wrong.
✗ Total WC: 6.5K
✗ CW: SMUT! Reader is a little jeeeeelly of Robin and Law’s friendship, reader is also a Straw Hat, LAW HAS A BIG DICK, p in v sex, Law teases too much [let me know if I missed any]
✗ A/N: Enjooooooy!
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“You know I was thinking,” you start, and he's about ready to roll his eyes. “Robin and you’d make a great couple.”
Even though he was facing the opposite direction of you, you can tell Law’s face was littered in a scowl.
After spending over 2 weeks with him, he was easier to read like that. It came with its perks and, well, Law was Law and there wasn’t much else.
“And why’s that?” He feigns interest in what you say, raising his head in your direction while throwing the blood littered gauze pads in the trash can next to the desk. “I think you both would complement each other pretty well. She’s quiet, you’re quiet, she’s pretty wise, you are too.” You pause for a moment, then continue, “She’s also very gorgeous.” You wiggle your eyebrows, with a mischievous look.
“I suggest you take care of those wounds on your body before you worry about who I should or shouldn’t be with.”
Known for your blunt and straightforward manner—he respected it, in truth—pirates weren’t known to talk so formally amongst each other anyways, but this, he would be lying straight out of his teeth had he said he wasn’t taken aback by today’s new invasive question you’d ask him. You’ve said some weird things, never anything about potential love interests. His love life yes—which was… nonexistent, in your own words.
And yes, you make that very clear to him. A lot.
He looks over to you with your finger to your chin as if deep in thought, like you Straw Hats even had anything to give thought to anyway, and you finally speak, "Yeah... she might be too good for you. Scratch the thought."
He chuckles, “You wound me.”
“But if you had to choose from any woman in your entire life to ever marry, who would you choose?” And he has to remind himself that you are completely and entirely under the influence of painkillers, otherwise he would have mistook you for a 5-year-old with the way the question was structured.
“Definitely not you.”
“Law!” You pout. He makes sure that his back is facing you again so he could sneak in a little smile. “That’s actually a good thing. I’m out of your league.”
He turns around to look at you, hand on his heart, “My heart truly cannot take anymore heartbreak.” He says in the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard from him.
For most, it was weird that you were left behind by your captain, but in this case—and with a whole lot of begging from the Straw hat himself—you were rushed to Law’s medical aid. Mindlessly running into battle to protect your friends from a life or death situation wasn’t so appealing when you had to face the consequences for the next month.
But you insisted that you didn’t regret your decision if it meant that everyone was safe; or in Law’s words, you were just careless and dumb.
Even though Luffy himself had to be pried away from your side by the swordsman and the cook while you were unconscious for the first few days, Law had explained to you that they had to get a move on (In your crews complete and utter reluctance) for the next up and coming battle when you came to. And when you found out, you were a bit upset to be parted away from them, but quickly found comfort in Law's presence while you were bed-ridden, cracking jokes about how you’d call him captain until your time was up on his submarine.
He looks over to your bandaged condition, high off your ass, and he almost wants to laugh. Even in your drugged out state, you talk about your friends in such high regard, and try playing wingman with him.
You disrupt the comfortable silence while he looks over some of the stuff on his desk, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m feeling much better. Y’think I can go back on my own ship yet?” You’re already stretching your arms out. He calls your name with his signature “-ya” attached to it in a scolding manner, “What did I say about moving?” Damn Straw hat.
You immediately deflate and look down, “You’re not letting me do anything. I feel fine.”
“It feels that way until you move a little too much and start to open your wounds again, give it another week and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He’s looking through some pages on his desk. “We can go on another walk tomorrow if you really wanna move that badly.”
“Thank you, Cap!” You beam at him, he feels his heart jump a little bit.
-
Another week has passed and you’re itching to go back to your found family. It’s been this way for the past three weeks, but as the month goes by, you’d just grow more and more eager.
You made him question why he was even doing this often times.
He was a little offended by your verbalized pleas to get out of here, like he wasn’t helping you. In his own little ways, he tried satiating your boredom by doing things that were almost out of character for someone such as himself. He’d even let you tell him about your fellow crew members to make you a little happier.
You’d talk about Luffy quite often, maybe because he knew him way better than anyone else.
You talked about Robin and Nami as well, about how you felt like they were the sisters you never had growing up, about how close you were to them, about how you each met, he was almost sick of how much you talked about them. But if it meant that you were doing okay then that was all that mattered.
Is that why you said that thing a couple weeks ago? About Robin-ya? There was a sincerity in your voice. Robin was a beautiful woman just as you proclaimed, she was around his age, and all the things you said about her held truth.
Maybe it was true—Nico Robin was the woman perfectly crafted for him. And he couldn’t deny her beauty.
He brushes his hand over his face--maybe out of confusion or frustration, he can't decide. But he hated the conflicting feelings that resided in his mind, they made no sense. He never had an issue with women. He didn't want to.
From the day he met you, his beating heart understood an appeal his mind couldn't, you had an annoying personality. You made dumb decisions. You said things too brutally. You never thought about yourself and it was bound to get you killed one way or another. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been spending extra time with you and getting way too familiar with you, but he’s letting himself enjoy it far too much. And he doesn’t know how he’d feel once you parted your ways. He’s never been this close to a woman before, be it the lack of female subordinates on his ship, or his lack of intimacy with just about everyone, it’s a lot for him.
When he has his arm on your hip to assist you in walking and you have yours on his shoulder, he feels his heart rate picking up a little more.
Sometimes when you get tired you beg him to carry you back to your room, he pretends that he hates it, as he leans over for you to get on his back.
And the first week was hell for him when he had to wash you, because bloodied bath and scars aside, your body was beautiful. Every inch of it. He didn't want to be a pervert. He kept chanting the words; this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship in his head when his mind almost slipped to unholy places. If you weren’t in so much pain at the time you’d probably have teased him for how red he looked.
But right now you seem fine, and you and Law (sometimes Bepo) have been going on walks around the submarine every morning now to get you used to physical activity again, you fall into the routine pretty quickly and you don’t seem as depressed as the first few days you were here.
A day ago the submarine ascended out of the water and met with dry land. He was conflicted in telling you— he didn’t know how you’d react. You’re in a completely different place now, different from where you were almost a month ago, it must've be a little weird to come outside after 3 weeks.
It was something that Chopper was extremely adamant on, only because he knew your tendency to wander and extreme desire to explore anywhere you went. You were quite the adventurous one, which is why the Straw Hat himself was probably so upset over your departure.
He sits next to you in a chair from your bed, mentally preparing himself and thinking on how he’d formulate the way he would go about telling you.
Would you stay by his side? Would you immediately go someplace else, and without him?
You’re sat upright in the bed waiting for what he had to say, “We’ll be getting some stock in this new place and I want you to come with us. Just to see how you do.” Your eyes get wider with every word that comes after the next, and you’re smiling. You hadn’t smiled this hard ever since you got here.
What he doesn’t expect, is you to throw yourself onto him. “Thank you Law! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Your embrace is warm, and easy to get lost in and he refuses to let himself have that pleasure. "Do they have a carnival? Can we go out to eat?"
He rests his hand on your waist in an effort to pull you off.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you just got your stitches off.” And he does well to hide the small smile that starts to form.
-
Law insists that you have to be with him, no questions asked.
If not him, then Bepo—the usual routine. It kinda made you mad, I mean, why not go with the other crew mates? You needed the new faces, but he insisted that he wasn’t as confident in their skills to take care of you versus his. Bepo was far more comfortable to be with given his warm and fuzzy embrace. And you envied the captain for having him be apart of the Heart pirates instead of the Straw hats.
You’re excited to finally go out and enjoy the traditions of this new place, you’re wearing a tight dress that looks almost too good on you.
Very much to Law’s complete and utter dismay, as well as his pleasure.
You made a joke to him earlier and told him you were surprised that he didn’t make you wear one of his jumpsuits the rest of the crew wore, then you’re calling him Captain Law to egg on the joke further. All he does is tsk and roll his eyes, like all the time. But you can tell he’s gotten more comfortable with you, and you appreciated it.
Anyway, the town’s food was delectable, you grab some food to-go and eat it while taking a stroll through the busy streets, the smell of more food, presumably some fresh-baked bread met your nostrils and you sighed out of pure satisfaction.
Your partner, on the other hand, all but scowled.
Which gave you an idea.
“Law, let’s go try some bread. I bet they have it freshly baked the way it smells so good.” You hang off of his arm to try and get him to come with you. And he swears the close proximity shouldn’t make him feel weird. He’s been much closer and he’s seen you in much more vulnerable circumstances, but this was different.
He kinda regrets telling you about the bread thing.
“C’moooonnn, you’re a liar if you say you hate bread.” You’re pulling him by his arm now, insisting on getting him into the bakery to try some sweet bread. “I never said I hated it, I said I didn’t like the taste.” This is practically a push and pull game now, “People are looking at us. We’re keeping a low profile, remember?”
You pull away from him in complete and utter defeat and tuck your hands over your chest.
He doesn’t want to miss your touch, but once again, his heart betrays him. “You’re no fun.”
He doesn’t have to miss the skinship for long, almost instantly you’re body is hanging back off of his bicep, talking about the next subject of your absolute fascination, which now happened to be a huge teddy bear plushy that was on display at a ‘convenience’ store. Not only are you closer to him but he can feel your breasts pushing onto his arm. He shudders.
And he tries remaining calm and reminding himself to not be a pervert, you always did this. You always touched him, he touched you. You were doing this as a means for support to walk better (even though you’ve been walking fine for a while now). That’s it.
You interrupt the awkward silence between you two before he starts to feel the immense guilt come over him and he thanks you in his head. His very perverted head. “I feel so much better now that we’re on land again, I feel like I haven’t had fresh air my whole life.” You breathe in and breathe a heavy breath out. “You’re exaggerating, you were on deck not too long ago.”
Your next movement makes him tense, you lay your head on top of his tattooed shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Law.” And give his captured arm a little squeeze, inevitably making him feel your breasts so much more.
He wants to die.
Collecting himself, he clears his through, “You’re making it seem like this is a date. I’m just here to monitor your progress.” He looks at you then looks ahead.
“Why can’t it be a date?” You ask him, still hanging off of his arm.
If you didn’t feel him tense then, it was especially obvious now. And he was trying to mask how weird he felt when you said that, but every part of him felt really hot, and he prayed that his cheeks weren’t tomato red right now.
“Aww! Look at them, young love, huh?”
“Ooooh, they’re an attractive couple…”
“They’re so cute!”
He calls your name a little coldly, “Get off of my shoulder, you’re sending people the wrong message.” He actually didn’t mind it, but he swears he might die if he feels your breast push up on him one more time. “Sorry…” So you withdraw your body completely from his, (which he totally doesn’t regret at all) and you start your walk with him again, minus your body on his this time.
Letting your eyes wander once again and away from Law, you settle on a trinket store, and the idea of buying Usopp a little gift pops into your head immediately. Just because.
You walk into the store full of weird things galore. You settle on a super shiny thing first and when you pick it up, the salesmen is immediately by your side, “This is a one of a kind (doo-hicky) which can only be found on this here island! (you saw this thing at the convenience store as well) Usual price would be 20,000 berries, but for your pretty little self, I’ll make it 19!”
“Yeah, no.” He immediately deflates.
You continue your walk through the store and not shortly after you land on something that you immediately found more intriguing than the last.
“Law look at this! You would love this!” You turn around,
But there’s just one problem.
Law isn’t with you anymore.
Oh.
And when you wave the salesmen off empty-handed, he seems a little angered but bids his goodbye and fake come again! as well. You look towards the street and it seems like it’s gotten busier.
“Law’s going to kill me!”
You try fishing through the crowd and scanning for a white spotted hat, or fuzzy white fur, but everyone looks plain and simple. Which makes you think about how you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs… anyway.
You search and search until you find that signature hat you’re looking for, excuse yourself in between what felt like hundreds of strangers and you catch up to him. You grab his hand in excitement, “Law!” Only for it to be quickly taken back, it was a stranger, with eyes that you’re sure could burn holes into you. You say your little sorry and resume your search.
After a long period of searching you’re drained, physically and mentally. You’re sure that if he found you he’d probably strap you down to your bed and not let you leave.
Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.
You’re defeated, extremely, entirely. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been outside like this for what felt like forever, maybe it was the fact that the sun was setting now, or even maybe it was ‘cause you needed Law with you the most right now. You find a near bench and just sit.
And maybe that exhaustion finally got the better of you, because you swore you could see his big muscular tattooed figure paired with Bepo's white fur walking towards you as you dose off into a really, really nice sleep.
-
The sound of one—no, two muffled voices wake you from your slumber, your vision is blurry, and if you were right about him saving you, you could hear what you assume to be Law’s medical instruments clacking together. A sound you’ve grown all too familiar with.
“Captain, you don’t think that’s a little harsh?”
“Did you see what she pulled out there?”
Bepo is silent for a bit, then sighs, “If you think it’s best for her.” He leaves the room on his own accord, leaving just you and the very scary man alone.
“I know you’re up.” He calls you with a firmness in his tone.
Much to your unwillingness, you sit up straight, tail between your legs. He looked a bit unkempt, and you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of you or something else. In whatever way, you felt a little guilty.
“Just plain reckless and obnoxious.” He towers over you, “I have a job to complete, and that requires you being taken care of.”
He's pacing around in your room-- the room, of his ship. Not yours. You've never seen him like this. Like he was distressed. He stills and looks at you. “You’re not coming out the rest of the week. You can wait until Straw Hat comes and picks you up.”
“What am I, a child?" You swing your legs around to meet the floor and pick yourself up.
"With the shit you just pulled, maybe."
With a scoff, "That's low, even for you, Law. It was an honest mistake and you're making it seem like I almost got us killed? You knew what you were getting into when you took me out!" you pinch your nose in a mix of frustration and some previous dizziness. "Sorry I can't be like Robin!"
Huh? Like who?
He immediately looks at you, and sees a little a tiny but of regret in your face. Like you had just got caught with a big secret.
Well maybe, that’s what it was.
“What is your deal with me and your crew mate, huh?”
Your confident demeanor is quick to fade away and if he didn’t know better, he would say that you were almost a bit embarrassed now. He really couldn’t tell what it was. You weren’t angry anymore, that was for certain. You’re not looking at him with those harsh eyes, you’ve been reduced to silence.
It makes him think a bit. He says your name in an attempt to get you to look at him and he succeeds almost barely.
“You wouldn’t happen to be…”
“Jealous?”
If there was ever a more dramatic gasp, it certainly couldn’t have topped the one that just came out your mouth. “How dare you! Not one bit!” Suddenly he has this new profound confidence to him, and his frustrations suddenly wiped clean off his mind. He looks at you with his grin all-knowing, and by God you hated when he did that. You wish you could have wiped it off and smacked it off of him.
“So explain to me, what’s the point of mentioning her again?” You don’t realize it, but he’s inching a bit closer while you’re avoiding any and all contact with him, you’re red. Red all over. Cheeks, ears, neck—everywhere. And you don’t know what to do with your hands, you can feel them collect sweat now. You don’t know why. Because his accusation was false.
He’s in front of you now.
“W-What are you doing? Law?” You scan his face because his stare down is relentless and unforgiving, and his hand finds its way up your neck and soon your chin. He’s awfully quiet. It’s unsettling. You put your hands on his chest to hopefully put a halt in the proximity. “Can you please te—”
His mouth is on yours. It’s a little shocking at first but you’re not pulling away.
And you don’t remember closing your eyes and snaking your hands around his neck, and pulling him in, but you do. His own tattooed hands found caressing your body. And the kiss was really, really passionate. He didn’t think it was gonna be this good, but he was wrong.
He was always wrong about you. Wrong about how he didn’t think you were right for him, wrong about your personality, attitude, everything. He really wanted to stay wrong until you would leave and he’d hardly have to see you again. He’s almost pissed he’s letting himself bask in your warmth and intimacy.
But now that he has it, he can’t go without it.
Few words are exchanged, but what he can do is guide you and put you back on your bed with your lips barely still connected trying to reach for each others and you think to yourself, for a man who claims to not have had so much going on in his love life he sure was skilled in whatever this was. He doesn’t want to take them off of yours. He can’t now. Your hands are under his shirt caressing every part of his torso. The feeling of his abs turned you on so much more and you felt your cunt throb a bit. You were aching for his body and he could tell, he takes his lips off yours with a whine from you that follows suit and immediately licks, sucks and kisses your neck, your audible satisfaction letting him know that he’s made you feel great.
“I need you… so bad.” You say in between huffs.
“How can I be so sure you deserve it?” He gets up, and takes his body off of yours, lips glossy. “How do I know that you won’t pass out on me, either?” He disguises his slight worry in a taunting statement, he’d try being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t make any promises.
“I won’t do that, and please Law. It was a mistake, honest. I need you inside. I wanted this so bad. Please!” You tug him by his shirt, urging him to come back down, he doesn’t. He thinks on your words a bit. You wanted this just as much as he did.
“Take your clothes off.”
He laughs at the very quick work you make of taking every single article of clothing, save for your bra and panties, off. There it was, the very image that kept him up for nights, shamefully touching himself to the thought of you on top of him, and him on top of you. Soon he joins, dropping his shirt and jeans and all else except his boxers, to the floor. He returns to your neck, his body on top of yours and you can feel his clothes dick pressing onto your clit ever so slightly, it draws a shaky breath out of you. “Do you know what you do to me?” He slides down your bra to continue his trail of kisses and licks on your nipples. “And you’re worrying about someone else. You’re so pathetic.”
You arch impossibly closer into him and start to buck your hips into his crotch.
“Need it sooo bad, put it inside me already, pleaaaaase!” His dick is throbbing in his boxers now. He shakes his head “You’re not prepped.”
“I’m wet enough, please baby. I need you inside of me.” You claw at his chest in an attempt to get what you want. Law’s a little taken aback by your very adamant declaration. But he should’ve figured as much, after all you were pretty straight to the point.
He refuses your request, he can’t. He goes down on you anyways, taking off your panties and the string of wetness that connected from your underwear to your cunt validated your statement. This was straight out of one of his wet dreams; you sprawled out and begging to be filled with his aching cock. He wanted more than anything to make you beg for him like your life depended on it to carry out the fantasy but, he was afraid he was just as desperate as you were right now. He continued and gently presses your legs up, swiping his thumb across your slit to test the waters (literally), your slick gathered onto his thumb and made a great lubricant, but he still wanted to make you feel good.
He licks his thumb clean and settles between your legs and gives your throbbing heat a few lips and sucks on your clit. He can feel you shake underneath him, and he separates your legs by your inner thighs to get a better angle.
The image in front of you made you hot, that’s all you could say about it. It made you hot and shaky and you thought you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you soon, Law hears your pleas, and to temporarily compensate for it, he sticks two fingers into you while he’s practically making out with your clit. You look down with an almost drowsy expression, your moans get so much louder but you don’t even care anymore. He was sexy and he was eating you out. That would be your excuse to anyone who dared to get too close to the door.
His two fingers were pretty big enough to even cause you a bit of trouble alone, and his constant prodding and scissoring made you seethe a bit, but you didn’t care because the pain and the pleasure mixed together made you feel the growing orgasm in your stomach. You shout his name, “I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna cum… mmm~” your whines and moans are breathy.
But he pulls away, and you look to him in shock. He gets up from his position and he’s on his knees in front of you, and he’s threatening the hem of his boxers, you quickly forget about your failed orgasm, knowing the main course was yet to come.
It almost feels like when he pulls down his boxers, time is in slow motion. Maybe because you wanted him extra due to the lack of action you were getting, and your inability to masturbate for the longest time, were you so eager to get him in your pants, nothing prepared you for when he pulled down his underwear.
And now you understood why he wanted to prepare you.
When he pulled them down, his cock shot right up and bounced a little bit before it was like it was staring right at you. You gulp. Because that’s all you could do. And you didn’t even want to look at Law in the eye because you know he was gonna give you some smug and shitty smirk. Like a hypnosis, you get in position and spread your legs further.
“You ready?” He puts one arm next to your head and crouches down a little bit, you can’t even speak. You just hum. You’re expecting him to get it over with, but now he’s just stroking your slit with that absolute beast, “You sure you’re ready?” And now you’re forced to look away from the heavenly scene and into his dumb and beautiful eyes.
“W-What was I saying for like the past 10 minutes? Put it in!” He only chuckles at how you jump at him, demanding him like you have any control. So he slides it in, head only. With your hand on his bicep, digging nails as you’re squeezing him both down there and with your hand that looks for some kind of help in his arm.
He removes his hand that pushes his cock inside and rests in on your chin to bring your eyes up to him, the action was so gentle it could’ve made you forget what was just going down. “Just look at me.” It makes your heart flutter.
And while you do, you feel so much better about the monster that’s sliding into you inch by inch. You furrow your eyebrows at him and chant his name like some sort of ritual. He’s almost all the way in, and the beads of tears in the corner of your eyes make him twitch inside of you with a groan. He looks at you like you hold the answer the all of his problems, like he just wants to be here with you only, and that’s exactly what it was. Like he’d pass away peacefully if it meant he passed away in between your legs.
Once he bottoms out, he stays there a little bit. He gives your lips a quick kiss before he moves into you, elbows on each side of your head while his hands are balled up into fists, your hands are snug around his neck while your legs wrap tightly around him. Each thrust is more powerful than the last, and he mentally curses at himself for not removing your bra so that he could see your tits jump freely. You’re on a different planet at this point, nothing has ever felt better. You look into his eyes, then down at what’s connecting you and you swear you could cum right there.
“‘F-Feels… so… good. Hah…” his thrusts find a comfortable pace now, “I feel full and good. Thank yoooouuummmm!”
And this is what you had been reduced to, thanking him for fucking you.
“Such a fuckin’ slut. Maybe I should keep you all to myself. For good.” His thrusts pick up a little bit now, “Straw Hat’s gonna have to fight me for this.” You whine in response. It took pretty quick for you to start to get cock-drunk off of him. He didn’t take you for the overly sensitive type but here you were, begging him and thanking him for some dick.
He would so use that against you later.
He kisses you again, and he’s settled into you a whole lot more. The position changed a little for his body to be closer to yours, and almost in an instant does your skin start slapping against each other. You were a moaning mess, the new position held so much intimacy and so much of him was on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Don’t stop. I’m almost there, I need it. Need it so bad. Let me have it!”
He gets a little slower as support for what he says next, “Beg a little more.”
“Please, Law! Please! I need you to make me cum! Please, make me cum. Please please please…” and they don’t stop. It looks like his fantasies came to life after all.
He lets you have it because—once again—he needs it just as much as you do, the last few thrusts come a little more quick-paced and it’s hitting you in the exact spot you needed to let yourself unfold.
With a loud call to his name, you cum. You came so hard you saw stars. And he just kept fucking you through it.“Fuck. M’Gonna f-fill you up.” He grunts and groans in an effort to reach his own moment of bliss and it’s quicker to hit him than he can comprehend, he cums inside of you and shivers a little bit in doing so, finding comfort in the crook of your neck in an effort to cover up how vulnerable he felt in that moment. No women could ever compare. He was a mess for it.
As for his fill inside of you, he’d just use his devil-fruit power to remove it, but right now he absolutely relished in the way it so effortlessly leaked out of you.
You were his, officially.
Collecting his own self, he pushes his body off of you, “You’re not going cold on me, are you?” He gets up off of the comfortable position once again, peering down at your fucked-out state.
“Would you give me a second? I thought you fucked me into another dimension for like half a minute.” You huff. He gives you your time while you catch your breath, he’s rubbing circles on each side of your hips to help alleviate the strain—well that’s the doctor for you. He’ll fuck you into the mattress and then help your muscles de-stress. You couldn’t deny the gentleness and how kind the gesture was and you soften up a bit.
Welp, so much for being cute, because his next words catch you a bit off guard during the tender moment, “Get on your hands and knees when you’re ready.”
But you’re up hilariously quick anyway. And he’s already half hard from waiting for you. Your figure from the back was something he’d think back on for many nights, but getting to see your face was beyond compare.
You whimper at his slow pace, “I’m ready, c’mon!” You comedically and desperately wiggle your ass in front of him, he wants to laugh but it was really fucking sexy, the way you yearned for him, and he holds your hip with one hand, lining himself up once again. The hard part wasn’t so difficult this time around, and he pushes himself inside of you a little too eagerly, almost giving away his own very need. He starts to thrust into you again, and being inside of you was like heaven on earth. Though it wasn’t even 2 minutes that he was fucking you before, he was sensitive this time around, and he had to go slower to start.
“Fuck… that feels so good.” You hum a moan in a little more than approval. He’s sliding more of it into you, watching how his cock disappears inside.
The best thing about this position is how you wouldn’t be able to see his face, how pussy-whipped he looked. If he went any faster he could cum, so he needed to start slow.
You were far past the sensual and slowness. You needed it fast and hard. “Law, go faster!”
He trusts himself enough to be a little bolder in what he says now that you can’t see his face. “Don’t call me by my name. What do you call me in this room? On this ship?” Very assertive with his proclamation. But he can feel your hesitance.
He smacks your ass, and you jump a bit, clenching around him very tightly. “I said, what do you call me?”
“C-Captain, please… please go faster.”
He stops. And he swears he might be torturing his own self more.
If it meant for how much you begged and whined for it, though, he wasn’t so mad.
“If you want to go faster so bad, fuck me yourself.”
You almost want to cry from how brutal he sounded, but the vulgarity of his words makes you clench around him again. And so, you start to thrust back into him, fucking him while he watched you.
With the first few thrusts you’re already clutching the sheets below you, and it’s taking more power than you thought it would. You can’t bring yourself to stop, though. The way it felt, it was too good.
“How does it feel?”
“S-So good, Cap.” Your eyes rolled into your skull.
“You gonna make your captain cum?”
“Mhhmm~”
With a breathy voice he says, “Guess this is my reward for taking such good care of you, huh? All paid off. I don’t usually get this special treatment from my usual patients.”
“I’m n-not a usual… patient.” You hardly breathe out.
He grips both sides of your hips to make you stop in your movement and he shuffles a bit, not long after is he asking you, “Are you gonna be good from now on?”. You say yes, a thousand times over. He moves like he did before, only just picking up his thrusts quicker and quicker. The sound of his skin meeting yours makes its return only louder. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Couldn’t possibly be. You’re too special. Made just for me.”
“Yes *thrust* Captain! *thrust*”
His leg is raised to the side to get a better angle into your cunt and he feels a second orgasm quickly approaching. He’s so sweaty, drenched. His hair clings onto his forehead and his hands can barely take grip on your skin anymore. Fuck, he moans. He’s getting dizzy now. This is the best he’s felt in a while.
You, on the other hand, have your face pressed in the sheets with your orgasm on quick approach. You’re sensitive, too sensitive. And you cum with a loud whine, all your liquids spraying onto him like it was comical. He came not so far after you, with his head falling back and a breathy moan.
You both try to catch your breaths before he fell on top of you. He kissed your shoulder as his own little thank you and rolled over on the very much drenched mattress. You lay on top of him while your whole body shook and he quickly wraps his arm around your figure.
You two sit in a comfortable silence to try catching your breaths and try pacing yourselves so you could relax. And surprisingly, Law is the first to speak.
And you wish he kept quiet.
“Never pinned you for the jealous type.”
“Oh would you quit it already? You’re so good at ruining soft moments!” You push him lightly, you roll over on the other side of the mattress and he immediately grabs you back. He was so annoying.
If he asked you to stay with him, would you have done it? No, that was wishful thinking. He’s seen with his own very eyes how much Straw Hat loved you. This is the thing he dread the most about this, he shouldn’t have done it. He brought you into his own sick and dark fantasy, he came inside of you, for fucks sake. It was too intimate. It was wishful thinking on his end, all of it.
He sighs, looking up at the ceiling and absentmindedly giving your body a squeeze.
“‘This a one time thing?” He asks to try and ground himself.
He doesn’t know what to make of the situation, because it was beyond amazing. It was phenomenal. And it was with someone special. He didn’t want to admit it but, you were special to him and it hurt to think that you’d likely leave him and not see him for a long time coming.
But you’re quick, “No, better not be!” You get up and sit on the bed, and he doesn’t understand how you’re up. He should be the one to get up. “Unless you declare me your enemy once I leave.” Your fingers are dancing on his chest, tracing the tattoos on his body, “But I’m fine with being with you like this. It can be our little secret anytime we see each other. Especially that captain thing, you freak.”
He laughs, and your words do bring him that relief. He pulls you by your arm for a tender kiss, something you were a bit surprised by.
Law was fine with it, he’d take what he can get for now, as long it meant he could be with you.
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leascorner · 1 year ago
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b.b. | With child
Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.
Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader
Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.
Words Count: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!
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“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.
Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.
His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.
You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.
He did not mind, or so he thought…
Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.
Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.
The ride home that night was particularly quiet.
Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.
On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.
He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?
He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.
When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.
Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.
Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.
“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.
Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.
You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.
Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.
He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.
He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.
He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.
In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.
All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.
It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.
“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.
“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.
He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:
“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”
“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”
“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.
It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.
“My love, this is not your fault.”
“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.
“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”
“Ben, of course, no!”        
“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.
You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.
He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.
“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”
“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.
Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.
“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”
“Ben, of course, I want your children!”
Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.
If he could not tell you, he could still show you…
Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.
“We should just take some time away from here.”
“What do you mean? The season only began-”
“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”
Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.
His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.
“France, it is then.”
Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.
One of the many to come.
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dramaticals · 7 months ago
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through the wringer
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pairing: theodore nott x ravenclaw reader
summary: theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers. / requested by @the-empty-refrigerator.
word count: 1,117
author’s note: i've also posted this on ao3 but as a theo x hermione fic, and so if you're interested in reading that instead: click here. reblogs / comments are always appreciated.
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"What's this?" You ask, blinking in confusion at the box of your favourite sweets in his hands.
Theo places the box in front of you before settling into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Your housemates have now made a conscious effort to leave room for him, considering he had no qualms about squeezing his way in to sit beside you. It's as if he didn't have his own assigned table.
"I thought you Ravenclaws could read."
"You're a twat."
"And here I was, doing something nice for you." Theo sighs. Always the flair for the dramatics. "It's Valentine's Day."
You eye him suspiciously before finally accepting the sweets and his reasoning. For as long as you've known him (and you've known him long enough that you couldn't even remember not knowing him), the two of you have never exchanged anything on Valentine's Day.
"Right, well, thanks." You say, offering him a nudge of your shoulder. His cheeks were pink. "I suppose I could share since I didn't get you anything."
Theo looks at you expectantly before he gives you a slow nod. His facial expression is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher. "How generous."
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"I got you this."
You look up from your parchment, settling your quill down carefully to not spill ink. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and Madam Pince was an hour and a half away from kicking you out.
"Another present?"
"Are you complaining that I'm spoiling you?"
"I don't reckon a fresh box of the cheapest quills warrants you tossing the word spoiling around."
"It's not my fault these happen to be your favourite to write with."
"Hmm, touché." You sound, accepting the pack of quills. "Will that be all?"
Theo blinks, his eyes darting between his gift and you. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Nothing comes out.
You shake your head and begin to pack your things away. You bite back a smile as Theo, ever the conversationalist, is clearly at a loss for words. "Come on, Nott. Walk me back to my common room."
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"It seems Theodore's quite fond of you." Luna points out as soon as Theo leaves you with another present. This time, it was a locket charmed to hold as many tiny pictures as you liked. Being quite the sentimental person, this gift was thoughtful and just proved to you that Theo knew you—not that it needed to be proven.
"I know." You say, touching the locket he had secured around your neck. There's only one photo in it currently; a picture of you and Theo, laughing as you attempted to swipe frosting across his nose.
"You seem fond of him."
You nod and smile lightly. "I am."
"He doesn't know."
You shake your head. After Theo secured the locket around you, you questioned what the occasion was, and Theo shrugged, claiming he was just messing around with a spell. He couldn't hold your gaze, and his tells when lying were practically screaming in your face. Theo excused himself quickly when you gave him a very friendly side-hug in thanks, teasingly claiming just how good of a friend he was to you.
"I refuse to tell him until he can be a big boy and use his words."
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"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Theo asks, cutting through the welcomed silence as the two of you sit near the Black Lake.
"Mhm," you sound noncommittally. "As I do every time we're permitted to go."
"Right," Theo nods. He's fiddling with a loose string on the blanket the two of you are sitting on. "Wanna go with me?"
Your brows lift slightly, and your eyes flicker to his. "Don't I always?"
"I mean, yes."
"Okay," you say slowly. You pause long enough for him to interject. When he doesn't, you sigh and shake your head. "So I'll meet you at our usual meeting spot."
"Okay."
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"I can pay for myself, Theo."
Theo shakes his head, making quite a scene of pulling out a few sickles and galleons (the price of two butterbeers and a slice of apple pie did not warrant the number of galleons he placed on the table).
"I'm well aware." Theo says, waving off your attempt at tossing in the amount for your share. "But I'm paying for it."
"Then the next one's on me."
"That's not how this works."
"This?"
"Yes."
"What's 'this' then?"
Theo's jaw clenches, and he exhales a breath. "You know what this is."
You did.
After he met you in front of the Ravenclaw common room instead of your usual meeting spot, purchased a book you were eyeing at Tomes and Scrolls, opened all the doors for you, and pulled out your chair for you at the Three Broomsticks (and then sat beside you rather than in front of you), you had a strong inkling of what this day was. But Theo never explicitly asked you or said anything that would allude to being interested romantically, and so you continued the charade. You played dumb.
Your brows furrow, and you blink in convincing bewilderment. "Do I?"
Theo releases a small groan, his hands covering his eyes in defeat. "Gods, you're impossible."
"I'm confused."
"I like you!" Theo blurts, bringing his hands down so he can meet your gaze. His eyes burn with frustration and longing. His cheeks are red, and he's bouncing his left leg as if he'd just heard he needed to face three boggarts at once. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time. The sweets, the quills, the necklace, the book. I even took you out on this bloody date. How do you not know already?"
It took everything in your power not to crack as he finally voiced his feelings. As you watch him take bated breaths, you can't help but erupt into a fit of laughter.
"Merlin," you giggle, wiping the tears from the corner of your eye. "It took you long enough, you bloody goof."
Theo flushes, and you can't tell if he's red because he's embarrassed and confused or if it's because he's seconds away from breathing himself into hyperventilation. You don't let him get to that point (being the gracious and not at all cruel person that you are), as you grab Theo by his collar and pull him in for a kiss.
Theo tastes of butterscotch and syrup, and his lips are soft and hesitant until they're not. He comes to, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he kisses you back.
You pull away from him, beaming at his shell-shocked and pleased expression. "I've known. I just wanted to hear you say it."
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ssour-apathyy · 8 days ago
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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ signed, with love
hockey player!vi x basketball player!caitlyn x cheerleader!reader, fluff, secret love messages, pining, reader is lowk a dumbass, use of y/n
word count; 1,899
summary; as valentines day approaches, you start to receive anonymous declarations of love, only to find out they're sent by the last people you'd suspect
a/n; happy valentines day!! this is my little gift to you all, and i hope you enjoy. i'm gonna go ahead and claim that it's a bit awkward because they're high-schoolers and NOT because i don't know how to write stuff like this jdhfsjhfdj
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It was the week before Valentine's Day at Piltover High, and the excitement buzzing through the air was almost palpable. The annual holiday event was in full force, where students were able to send love themed cards to each other, be it anonymous or not.
The hallways were abuzz with giggles and murmurs as students speculated who had sent them cards, who might send them cards, and the reactions of those they had sent them to. Everybody seemed to be deep in the tradition, well, everybody except for you.
You weren't insanely popular, but you weren't not popular. A nice middle ground, some may say. You had been on the cheer squad for a year now, which naturally meant you were higher up on the pyramid of social status compared to the rest of the student body. This wasn't the problem, the problem was that you just weren't interested in anybody.
You told yourself it was a mixture of nobody being interesting enough, and just not having enough time to pursue anybody. If you weren't doing anything cheer related, you were studying. If you weren't doing either of those things, you were spending time with Caitlyn and Vi.
Caitlyn- easily the most popular person at school. Captain of the basketball team, tall and beautiful, and just so nice. Not that fake, only doing this to keep up appearances, nice either, like actually nice. And then there's Vi- breakout star of the hockey team, a little rough around the edges, but so fucking hot. Together, they were the very top of the food chain, everybody's favourite couple, and absolutely unstoppable.
You had been friends with them for a few months now, when you had cheered at one of Caitlyn's games and she couldn't help but watch you the entire time. She just had to talk to you after the game was done, and Vi was on board immediately. All it took was one conversation and it was like you three had been friends for years, and suddenly were inseparable.
The three of you had lunch together every day. Vi would walk you to classes, Caitlyn would walk you to cheer practice, any spare time you had outside of school was almost always spent with them. People had tried to joke about you being their third wheel, but the look that Vi had sent their way had them promptly shutting their mouths. You didn't mind, though. Never at any point did you feel uncomfortable or left out, and you were happy to see your best friends so in love.
What you didn't know, however, is that both Caitlyn and Vi were absolutely smitten with you. Their feelings were small at first, like a small sprout popping up in Spring. That was until you had gone on a week vacation and they realised how much they missed you, and THEN you just had to go and bring them both home a gift- a basketball keyring for Caitlyn and a hockey stick one for Vi- and suddenly the small sprout was a grand oak tree and they just couldn't keep lying to themselves anymore.
They had a long talk between themselves, discovered that they were both on the same page, and started to plan how they would approach the subject. They cared too much to risk jeopardising your friendship by just springing it on you, so they knew that it had to be perfect.
── ⟢
Your eyebrows furrowed as the small card slipped out of your open locker door, fluttering to the ground in front of you. You slipped your textbooks into the locker before kneeling down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands as you stood back up. It was cute, a little doodle of a steaming coffee cup with 'Words cannot espresso how much you mean' written underneath. No name. You let out a soft chuckle and a little shake of your head as you slipped the card into your bag, and didn't think much of it. Probably just one of the girls on the cheer squad sending them to the team.
And then there was another.
'If I could start my life over again, I would find you sooner so that I could love you longer ♡'
"What the fuck.." you mumbled, looking around you to the other students filling the hallway, trying to see if anybody was looking suspicious. Nobody had ever shown an interest in you, not really, so to start suddenly getting valentine's cards was surprising to say the least.
Every day up until the 14th, there was a new card waiting for you. Every day they seemed to get more and more personal, and there was no doubt in your mind that they were meant for you and you alone. The girls on the cheer squad had no idea about it, but they were fawning over the cards that you had gotten, studying each one carefully. When you tried to ask Caitlyn and Vi, they had played it beyond cool.
"Wow, seems you've got yourself a secret admirer, huh? You sure you've not been out there flirting up a storm when we're not around?" Vi had teased you, causing your cheeks to burn as you snatched the card from her with a scoff.
"You don't recognise the handwriting?" Caitlyn had queried, even though it was no use. The messages in anonymous cards were written by the students handing them out for this very reason.
You got the final card on Valentine's day, and although it was the most simple and, well, least romantic, it still caused your stomach to do flips.
'Gym, after school today.'
── ⟢
Being on school grounds after hours was always slightly uneasy. The hallways were silent, your own footsteps echoing along the empty expanse of the building. You stood in front of the doors to the gym, heart racing as you wiped your palms on your jeans and shook the shake out of your hands. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and pushed the doors open.
The lights were off, the only source of light in the open room was coming from multiple candles scattered around the floor. In the middle of them was a picnic blanket with a hamper sat neatly on it, a couple of plastic cups tucked beside it. Both Vi and Caitlyn were sat on the bleachers behind, chatting away to each other before the sound of the door closing behind you caught their attention.
"Oh... uh, hi guys" you drawled, voice laced with confusion as you quickly checked over your shoulder before taking a few tentative steps towards them. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt."
Caitlyn stood up, her varsity jacket hanging off her shoulders as she hopped off the bleachers to approach you. "You're not interrupting, don't worry. You're right on time, actually."
That increased your confusion tenfold, and it must have shown perfectly on your face as you watched Caitlyn busy herself with pouring drinks, because Vi's soft laughter was suddenly reverberating through the empty hall.
"Y'know, for somebody with your grades, you aren't all that smart sometimes" she teased, coming up to rest a hand on your shoulder as Caitlyn passes you both a cup of soda.
"Wha- but I don't-"
Your fingers wrap tightly around the plastic cup in your hand as the realisation hits you, and your eyes bounce between the two girls. Vi has a cocky smirk on her face as she sees the gears in your head turning, whereas Caitlyn looks a little nervous as she sips her drink, arms crossed over her chest.
"You sent those cards?"
"We did" Vi affirms, her hand squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Cait said the puns were too cheesy, but I think you liked them anyway, hm?"
You watched as Caitlyn rolled her eyes, even though a hint of a smile was ghosting on her lips. "We had been thinking of how to approach the subject with you for a while, and well, this seemed like the perfect opportunity."
You nodded, eyes flitting down to the picnic blanket on the floor. "And... you did all this.. for me?" you asked quietly, your voice hesitant and still coated with disbelief. Caitlyn took your free hand in hers and gently guided you to the blanket, sitting you down on top of one of the pillows as she sat in front of you, Vi doing the same to your side.
"Of course we did. You're special, Y/n. We care about you a lot, and-" she cuts herself off, playing with your fingers that she's still holding in her hand. "We were hoping you'd feel the same."
Vi clears her throat and shuffled a little closer, lifting a finger to your chin so she can turn your head to look at her. "What Cait is trying to say, is that we like you as more than a friend. This is our way of showing you that, and asking if you want to be something more."
Your heart stopped in your chest, and a warmth had spread across your face as you let everything sink in. It was like being doused in ice-water, the realisation that you did, in fact, feel the same way about them. Your lack of a love life wasn't because you were busy, or because nobody interested you. It's because they had already filled that hole in you, you just hadn't thought about it long enough to see it.
"Wow, I- honestly had no idea" you breathed out, your words coated in an airy laugh. "I mean, looking back at it, of course it seems obvious this is where it headed."
The three of you shared a laugh at that, and you lifted your free hand away from Caitlyn's to rub the back of your neck sheepishly.
"I don't want it to change anything though, not really. I mean, yeah, obviously things will change-" You blush at the thought of kissing them. "-but it won't get like.. weird or anything right?"
The two girls shared a look and set down their drinks, Vi gently taking yours out of your hand too, shuffling closer to you so they were sat on either side.
"Nah, not weird at all" Vi murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"We won't do anything you don't want to, love. We'll take it at the pace you want" Caitlyn affirms, her voice soft yet strong.
They both lean forward and press a soft kiss to your cheeks, and you let your eyes flutter closed as the feeling of being sandwiched between them. For the first time in a long time, you had never felt as at peace.
"Okay then" you whisper into the space in front of you. "I feel the same way, so.. I think we should give it a shot."
"Yeah, sweetheart? Wanna be our girlfriend?" Vi questions in that teasing tone that you love to hate, her lips grazing against your cheek as she speaks. You just nod in response, both girls crushing you in a bone tight hug as relief washes over them.
"Now then" Caitlyn starts after a moment of the three of you basking in each other. She pulls away only to flip the lid of the basket, pulling out various different snack items. "I prepared this specially, and we have a valentine's picnic to dig into."
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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago
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Bakugou Katsuki
♡ TW: NSFW, yandere
♡ gn reader
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You’re attracted to Bakugou for many reasons – he’s tall and ripped and handsome and a bit of an asshole – but really, what you like about him most is that he doesn't seem like he’d be too much trouble. And you mean that in many ways. 
You’ve been in relationships before, and none of them have ended on good terms – always leading to deep upsets and disappointments. You’d come to the realization that boys, on any level that wasn’t purely sexual, were something you didn’t really need or want at the moment – which is why Bakugou, in all his disinterested glory, was just perfect for you. 
He’d fold you in half in filthy places like the locker room or bathroom or in his smoke-steeped car – making your heart beat from the thrill without that nagging feeling of being underappreciated because, well, you didn’t really care. He wasn’t your boyfriend and you weren’t committed to each other in any serious way, so there really weren’t any grounds for standards or expectations – it was just sex – carnal ball-clapping sweaty sex – pure and simple and just what you needed. No more, no less.
You didn’t go on dates or meet each other's parents or give each other chocolate on Valentine's Day or any other presents on any other holiday – you didn’t even hang out aside from seeing each other at parties and sometimes in the school hallways. He’d cock his head with a grin, and you’d smile coyly up through your lashes, and you’d meet in the handicapped bathrooms between classes to get drilled over the sink with your face smudged against the cool mirror.
It's only when he starts knowing things about you that you grow a little stiff with your arrangement - things he couldn’t possibly know from you as you’d never cared to speak about your private life. And sure, some of those things he could have easily found out through your social media standing – which already makes you feel a little iffy – but there are other things he’ll slip out, specifics about your interests and classes and whereabouts and the stuff you do with your friends – stuff you’re positive you’ve not posted anywhere. 
When you asked him about it, halfway jokingly with a somewhat nervous laugh, he’d only quirked a brow and brushed it off, insisting you’d been the one that told him. And you, despite being sure he’s lying, decide to believe it anyway. Because what the two of you have right now is still good – much better than any other fuck-friend you’d had before. Katsuki makes you so wet, and he's always so able to just pound your orgasm right out of you. 
If payment is small talk, you can humor him.
But then the sex becomes a little dull. Instead of his fist wrapping tight around your throat, he’s now sucking gentle love bites into the skin. And he no longer has his hand in your hair, forcing your face down against a cold surface with nails digging into your scalp to keep you still while fucking you fast and selfishly from behind.
Both his hands are instead holding you around the waist, keeping your body skin-to-skin against his chest as he gently lolls you on his lap – so slow you can’t even feel your heart – so slow you’re still breathing through your nose. He hasn’t slapped your ass once, and it’s beginning to get a little sad.
You want to tell him that you want him to fuck you like he’s a dirty cop and you’re a criminal resisting arrest – and not this old married couple shit. But you also don’t want to be rude. 
However, after all the one-sided heart-to-hearts he’d sat you through lately – spending more time chatting than making you cum – you were left feeling a little awkward, honestly. And between that and how he’d started texting you goodnights at eight-thirty – you were afraid he’d lost his original raw sex appeal.
He’s become so pedestrian in your eyes he might as well have been wearing glasses and a sweater vest.
You let him finish without saying anything – but you can't deny you’re happy when you feel him finally blow his load.
Dismounting him, you jump to your seat in the car and pull your underwear back up without a word.
It’s silent while he lights a smoke and rolls down his window – his hand coming to rest on your thigh after.
You look out your own window, your face in your palm while you think. And then talk. “I think… we need to stop.”
He's a little busy with his cigarette, but still, he answers, casually. “Stop what?” Smoke goes out his mouth and up his nostrils, then out again.
“This.” You answer. “Fucking.”
The hand on your thigh stirs and you catch him shifting his head to look at you, but you don’t return the gesture – keeping your eyes fixed on the puddle peppering with raindrops out on the empty parking lot the two of you’ve often spent time burning rubber drifting donuts before making the windows steamy.
“Why?” He eventually says. Flicking the spent filter out onto the wet pavement. Rolling the window back up and leaving the both of you in a way too tense silence of muted rain.
You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. “We’re not strangers anymore... It’s just getting a little boring.”
He taps another cigarette up from his box but doesn’t light it – just rolls it around in his fingers with his head bowed. “Boring, huh?” He repeats. And then there’s a pause. 
A hefty pause. A silent one that lasts a little too long and makes you forget the subject in favor of thinking about other things – like, had your roommate done the dishes this time, or were they still on the counter?
“What if I lock the car and drive us off a cliff?” He breaks through your thoughts, and this time, it’s you who turns your head. Looking at him while he still fingers the same slim roll in his hands – mumbling to it, it would seem. “I’ll laugh, you’ll scream… and maybe I’ll light this cig’ while we’re in the air…”
He sighs – as though what he’d just said was not what he’d said – then copies your action, letting his head fall back to rest against the leather – his face blank and his breath steady.
“If you fuck someone else, I’ll break their face.”
This time you blink when staring at him – face riddled, doubting what you were hearing come out of his mouth. “You what?”
“If- you fuck- someone else…” He repeats slowly. “I- will break- their face.” He says it so calmly you’re still unsure whether you heard him right. “Understand?” He asks – chin cocked up while glancing at you from the corner of his red eyes. “I won't stop punching until their teeth are on the ground and their eyes are so bloated and bloody they can no longer see who it is that’s throwing the hits.”
You blink a few more times. Stunned into a stupor, picturing it with parted lips without any words escaping them.
He rolls down the window again and puts the smoke between his lips.
And while he lights it and blows the roof full of grey, you’re still hung up on the image…
Maybe Bakugou wasn’t as boring as you thought.
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♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
Full altered fic with smut available here:
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uhdrienne · 9 days ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 the embodiment of grace and deviousness
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⛓️ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader ⛓️ genre: sfw, fluff, angst, mafia au, soulmate au ⛓️ word count: ~8k ⛓️ warnings: mentions of violence, weapons, open wounds. do not interact if it can be triggering! there's going to be cursing too because seungcheol is a grumpy one :") ⛓️ summary: as an author, it's almost poetic that your soulmate tattoo would be a flower. actually... half a flower. a snapdragon, to be exact. the petals on your arm, the vines on seungcheol's. it's even more cliche when you meet him on valentine's day. to you it means grace, but for seungcheol, he still has zero idea on what flower his tattoo is. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious at all, but during this season of love, you're about to figure out exactly what this all means for you and him, the leader of the city's most dangerous mafia.
author's note: suuurprise! to commemorate my first valentines' on this platform, here is a fic, part of @ddeonghwa-s Secret Cupid Event 💌 thank you so much to @ddeonghwa-s for putting this event together, and of course to the wonderful @kpopflowerfield for giving me this opportunity to write for you, i hope you like this as much as i did💘
here is the event masterlist! do support the works of all other authors too, all of them are so so amazing <3 happy valentines' day!!
depending on the POV, italics signify either the author's writing or Seungcheol's thoughts <3
"Territory 13 is acting up again, sir."
"Are they?"
"They're giving trouble. Threatening to cut off our chain supply in the north."
“Hm.”
“We’ve lost a few men fighting them for the past few days. The situation doesn’t seem to be de-escalating, so we reported to you.”
“Nowhere else we can push to weaken them?”
“They seem to have it figured out, sir. They outnumber us at every turn.”
"Well, we can't have that, can we?"
"No, sir."
"You have three hours till dawn. Take the men you need and get it settled. It won't be pretty if I don't get better news by then."
"Yes, sir."
"Go."
He swings his chair around to the fading sky of the night, nursing his glass of amber. He looks down to his full sleeve of black, red, and blue ink. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, like the highlight of a Naturalism painting, a whorl of vines and small, green leaves, linked to the vines of other flowers. He has no idea what it means, has had no idea since the day he got it. Ever since, all he's focused on is getting it covered, blended in with other flowers on his skin.
What is the point of such a mark on his skin, he wonders for the umpteenth time as he runs his hands over the permanent imprint, if the universe won't show me what it means?
He glances at the corner of his screen. 1:30am. 14 February. Hm.
He looks away.
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"I'm sorry, I don't think we can proceed with cover design and vetting for you, ma'am."
"Oh... Not possible? At all?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Your drafts weren’t given the green light from our Head of Publishing, and our team can't exactly spare the manpower to help you right now."
"...I see. And there’s no one else I can look for? Or….. any contacts you may have?”
“We can try, ma’am, but we can’t promise anything. It’s busy period for us publishers at the moment.”
“Ah. Well, thank you anyway. I hope we can work together in the future."
You put your phone down and sink back into your chair, covering your face with your hands. Your most recent creative co-director pulled out two days ago, another graphic design deal fell through, and now this publishing company. At this rate, you don't know if your book will even ever reach the local bookstore across the street.
You blow out a breath, look down at the only black ink on unblemished skin, the one that's been there since the day you turned 20 years old.... the petals of a snapdragon.
Your phone lights up with a text from a friend, and as you unlock it, the date catches your attention.
14 February. Happy Valentines' Day to you.
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Your final straw comes when you're walking home from your office the next night. You rub your tattoo, which has been irritated the whole of today. You have no idea what it means, just that it can't be good for your soulmate bond. But you've never been concerned for him, not the slightest bit, since the day you got the tattoo. Because he's not something you're looking for right now.
Then you hear scuffling, a familiar thing here in the rougher area of town where you live. Your only intention is to walk past and ignore everything. From prior experience, that's the best survival tactic you have: Don't go looking for trouble, and it won't find you.
A man appears on the sidewalk and walks towards you. You walk faster, calculating the distance it takes. Two hundred metres and you'll be under the safety of the street lights. One hundred and fifty. One hundred. The man seems to be getting closer.
You hear a thud. Fuck. What was that?
You squeeze your eyes together and turn around. It sounds stupid, but you'd like to at least see the face of your captor before you see darkness. You read novels about this. When a character gets out of a captor's grasp, they can never tell the police what the kidnappers look like. If now is your time, you won't go down making the same mistake.
Except there isn't a captor nor a body bag. It's just another man, hands in pockets, bending down to survey the unconscious lump on the concrete ground just behind you. He looks at you, the exact moment that you too meet his eyes. And you feel it. At the worst possible time in your life, ever, for crying out loud.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of volts of electricity. A rising and a pop in your head, a sizzling burn on your forearm. Who knew a soulmate bond snapping into place could be this painful? You choke out a gasp as the pain sears, brands itself into your arm. The outline of the flower appears in full glory, the vines entwining itself around your arm as it links with the petals. It's beautiful and horrifying, and you watch as the flower you've been waiting for finally, finally blooms.
Before long, the bloom appears on your forearm. A snapdragon.
The man seems to feel the same thing, as he doubles over in pain, pupils dilated in shock and clutching his arm. His face is covered by his hood so you can't see what he looks like, but he turns and runs, and before long he's disappeared into the darkness.
A few minutes pass before the pain finally subsides, and in its place comes a wave of exhaustion. You sink on the concrete, careful not to stir your unconscious stalker, who's still lying on the ground motionless.
You've found your soulmate. On the day of love.
You touch your mouth when you feel a smile creeping up your face.
--------------------------------
Seungcheol opens his door, barks an order to his guard outside not to disturb him unless "someone is bloody dead", sinks down on a couch and grabs a whisky. He downs it, the burn of the alcohol close to nothing as compared to that of the flower sitting oh-so-innocently on his forearm. He'll never forget the way the snapdragon petals appeared, as if they were burnt into his skin.
He stares at it, remembers the girl who gasped in pain just as he did. He never meant for this to happen. He was only passing by and saw a man from one of the local, problematic gangs sneaking up on you. He only meant to get the man away as he usually would for anyone else, because his principles, despite his rough line of work, never permitted him to disrespect women. He only meant to do one thing and go on his way. He only felt his arm burning right before he turned onto that damn street.
He glares at his arm, like the ordeal is its fault. His hand is shaking. It never shakes.
He didn't mean to feel his bond snap into place, never meant to meet you. He takes another long swig. This is the worst timing ever, he thinks darkly.
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Meeting your soulmate on Valentines' Day can't be pure coincidence. If there wasn't a sign before that this was your chance, there very well was now. The next day you come up with a mission plan.
Find the man who is apparently my soulmate
...........
And that's when you sit down and have a good think. What are you even going to do when you do find him, anyway? Get together with him purely because he's meant for you, as the universe dictated? What if he's a rude jerk? What if he's ugly? What if... oh god, what if his breath stinks?
What if... he doesn't like you?
You continue writing on your notepad, absently, mindlessly writing sentences and paragraphs like word-vomit. Before long, you look down on the page to see almost a full journal entry, like you always do when you're anxious or stressed.
"Great," You mutter. "May as well write a book about this."
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You enter the bookstore, waving at the little old lady who runs it.
"Good morning," She hums. "What are you looking for?"
You smile, thumbing through the different books on the shelf. "Morning. Something about flowers, maybe? I'm doing research... for a book I'm writing."
She nods. "Perhaps a book that explains the flower on your arm?"
You chuckle. Nothing could ever get past her eyes. "You caught me."
The lady laughs in return. "That," she says, hobbling out from the counter to rummage her inventory, "is a snapdragon. Yours is lovely -- a nice shade of red."
You smile. "Does its colour represent something, too?"
The old lady pulls down a thick book, flips through it and sweeps off the dust on the cover. "Every colour has its representation, but it's also your choice to decide what it means to you." She passes you the book. "In Chinese culture, it means prosperity. It's a lucky colour. For others, it could mean passion and love. It could also mean danger, perhaps courage..."
"Wow," You mumble, flipping through the book. "One colour and thousands of meanings?"
The old lady shrugs. "Colours and nature existed way before we did," She takes the book from you and goes to wrap it up in construction paper. "Is that the tattoo that brings you to your other half?"
"So the world says," You shrug, as you pay for the book. "I had the petals first, so the stem and leaves appeared when I met him, but I don't know where he is... or even what he looks like."
The lady nods in understanding. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find your way back to each other. I'd think that's what the tattoo's for."
"Do you know about them? What do they do?"
"Some stories say they help soulmates detect when one is in danger. Other stories say the closer you are, the warmer it feels... I've never tried."
Huh. You nod. "Thank you. So very much."
There is a soft shimmer of fascination in the old lady's eyes as she waves you goodbye. "I have faith that what's meant for you will come to you in due course, dear. Have a good day now."
------------------------------------
Seungcheol hasn't stopped glowering at his tattoo all day. It looks... out of place. The petals aren't supposed to be there. It looks like an outsider, a strange feeling he can't place. If this is the bond acting up, he surmises, it fucking sucks.
He needs coffee to cure the pounding headache building up.
He orders someone to get his coffee, and as he sits to wait, he taps at his keyboard impatiently, trying to figure out how the tattoo had built up.
The petals came later, he thinks. Is that supposed to mean something?
When his right-hand man, a freckled, tan man comes in with the coffee, Seungcheol is still none the wiser on the phenomenon. So he lowers his guard (for once, he thinks bitterly, for a soulmate bond of all things), and asks the man who's currently laying his coffee cup down. "Lee."
Lee looks up. "Yes, sir?"
"What do you know about soulmate bond tattoos?"
Lee looks visibly excited. "Did you get yours, sir?"
"Asking for a friend," Seungcheol deflects immediately. "So, what do you know about it?"
"I have one, sir," Lee says, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a... half-faded anchor tattoo. "I was so.... it felt so strange to meet my other half."
"Strange. What was it like?"
Lee shrugs as he sets down a serviette. "Can I speak freely?"
Seungcheol waves at him to go ahead. He's usually the man who acts like he has a stick up his ass, but this time, he wants to find out everything he can about having a soulmate. Just so I don't drag the poor girl down with me for no good reason, he reasons to himself.
"It wasn't all good feelings," Lee explains thoughtfully, hands pausing mid-air. "My soulmate... he was an underground weapons dealer. And you know people in our circle, we don't do feelings. They're liabilities, it's another thing enemies can use against us." He chuckles bitterly. "That was one of the only things we had in common."
Seungcheol doesn't miss the way he's speaking in past tense. "You don't have to explain yourself," He says cautiously.
"No, that's okay," Lee says. "It was a while back. See, I have fading scars to prove that."
"What did it... feel like?"
"It started fading and it hurt so much, I knew something was wrong." Lee shows his arm again.
"What happened?"
Lee shrugs. "He died in an underground turf war. One of those."
Seungcheol makes eye contact. "Did you at least have good days with him?"
Lee looks at him, then looks away. "We did. Almost left the circle for each other, but..." He shrugs again. "Time just wasn't on our side."
"No," Seungcheol agrees. "It wasn't."
His fists clench. So this is what could happen to both parties who were in the circle, nevermind a civilian. He nods. "Thank you for telling me."
Lee gives him a half-smile. "So is this about your tattoo?"
"Y- No, for my friend," Seungcheol replies, cursing himself at the slip-up.
"I see," Lee says, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. Seungcheol knows Lee doesn't believe him. As his right-hand man for years, how could he not see through Seungcheol? He starts walking towards the door. "Well, tell your friend that if there's anything I learnt, it's that time is a bitch. There's going to be a lot of fear, and it won't be pretty. But... take it from me," He smiles sadly. "It's going to feel worse when you don't treasure time and lose them. After all...." He opens the door. "I lived to tell the tale."
When the door closes behind him, Seungcheol leans back into his chair and rubs his temples.
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"Some soulmates you find in the lecture hall of your school. Some you find along the way of life. Some... are pre-ordained by the universe, in the form of a snapdragon tattoo.
But are these... pre-meditated, pre-planned people meant to stay?"
You put down your pen.
You're curious. At the world, for giving you a person. How that system came about. About your soulmate. What he's like, what he looks like.
But there's no straightforward way to find him. No instruction manual that tells you where to go and what to do.
You decide to take a walk that evening. No distance limit. Just wherever your feet takes you.
And it brings you to this cafe on a street you've never been, with soft music and oak furniture, and a smiley, freckled and tan man behind the counter grins at you. "Welcome to Choi's."
"Hello," You say, smiling a bit. "Could I get a latte, and... that croissant? It looks amazing."
"Of course," He says, before turning to another burly staff that just appeared. "Get her a latte, will you?"
The staff nods, and disappears behind the coffee machine.
You take a seat, and hum as you wait. When the pastry and drink appear on your table, you thank the staff and look down to see the milk foam in the shape of a heart. Mmm. You take a sip, already feeling a lot better.
The bell jingles, and a man steps in, hands in his pockets. and heads for the counter. By force of habit, you look up and send him a cursory glance. And then you freeze. The man has rolled up his sleeves as he speaks to the staff, as if they already know each other, and on his arms....
A full tattoo sleeve of flowers. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, a whorl of vines leading to the most prominent flower. It looks fresh, like it was inked in a mere five minutes earlier.... in a shade of brilliant red... a snapdragon.
It's him.
The man must have excellent situational awareness because he acutely notices someone staring at him and he turns to you. Your shell-shocked face, your trembling hands... and his eyes fall on your forearm.
Choi Seungcheol had never felt this thunderstruck, not even when he found out half his men had been bought over by rivals years ago. He knows he'll never forget this feeling.
So he does the next best thing. He excuses himself from his staff and leaves.
So you get up and run after him.
Seungcheol's in the middle of cursing himself and the world out when he hears your voice calling for him.
"Sir...?"
He can pretend he doesn't know you're calling him. Sure. He can do that. Keep on walking, Seungcheol.
Until he hears running, and a tap on his shoulder. Ah.
He swallows, closes his eyes, and turns around. "Yes?" He asks coldly.
Ah. So he's not in the habit of making conversation, you think. "I'm really sorry about this, but can I...."
"Can you what?" Seungcheol replies, even though he already knows what you're going to say.
"Can I see your arm? For a second? I just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing wrongly."
"No, you may not."
You cringe. Silence dwindles between both of you. "Uh... right."
Seungcheol reaches for his car key. "Why do you want to see my arm, love?" He casts a cursory glance at your arm. "To see if I'm your soulmate?"
You look down, then at him. "...Yeah. I got this tattoo, and I don't know what my soulmate looks like, so..."
"So you're trying to find him in me, huh?" Seungcheol doesn't mean to be rude, but this is the only way to get you off his back, at least until he knows how to move forward. The least he can do is to warn you. "News flash, love. I'm just a man who enjoys flowers. But me as your soulmate?" He chuckles and presses a button. From a distance, his car makes a beeping sound and unlocks. "I highly doubt it. You'll need to know who we are before you enter our world."
"And who are you?" The words come out before you can stop them.
Seungcheol supposes it doesn't hurt to establish who he is, just so you'll have enough sense to stay away.
"The mafia, love," He says softly, as he walks towards his car. "I'm the leader, here. I'd advise you to stay away from me, soulmate or otherwise."
When his car pulls away, you sigh and look at your tattoo.
The biggest joke the universe could have pulled on you. Making a mafia leader, out of 8 billion other people, your soulmate.
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When he reaches home, Seungcheol reaches for his phone. When Lee answers, Seungcheol gives him a long list of things to do, for the cafe and for the mafia.
"Has anyone caught on the cafe yet?" He asks.
"Nope," Lee answers. "It was a good front to keep track of the public, but it seems like a normal cafe to them. So I'd say everything's fine, boss."
"Good."
"Anything else?" Lee says.
"....One more thing." Seungcheol says, sighing through his nose. "A girl came to the cafe tonight."
"...Uh-huh."
"The girl in the white cardigan and jeans."
"Right."
"Warn her not to divulge who we are and what the cafe really is. With any luck, she'll figure out that the cafe is protecting us."
"Protecting us..." Lee gasps. "Sir, you told her who you are? Why?"
"To get her to leave me alone," Seungcheol mutters. "Anyway, just tell her to zip her mouth. I don't care how you do it."
He regrets the words once they exit his mouth. "Just don't hit her or anything. We're not in that business."
A soft laugh comes over the phone. "She your soulmate or something, boss?"
Seungcheol pinches his nose. "So she thinks. Just because we have a matching..."
An idea hits him. "Do me another favour."
"Name it, boss."
"Find out where she was last night. Just to make clear something for me."
"You got it."
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A knock on your door sounds in the middle of the night. When you open the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you flinch when two burly guys flanking the same freckled, tan man from the cafe last night step in your doorway.
"Uh...you're from the cafe, aren't you?"
"I thought a familiar face might help matters," The freckled man says. "My name's Lee. And you?"
You introduce yourself cautiously, but you look at the two men. "So... what the man said yesterday was true? You're not really a cafe, are you?"
Lee shrugs. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway." He nods to the men. "We just came here to give a little warning."
You have a feeling you already know. "What warning?"
"Don't pry, and don't tell," Lee says, still smiling, but you sense the underlying threat within. "I don't know what business you have with us, but it should end now." He nods at you. "For both yours and our good."
The burly man on the left makes a point of nodding towards your home. "We know where you live, and we can find you no matter where you go. Don't complicate things for yourself. You won't like what comes next."
And they leave, leaving you shaking in the doorway. Anger courses through you. Your soulmate sent people after you to push you away.
You don't know everything about soulmate bonds, but what you do know is that soulmates are drawn to each other: to protect, and to take care of. Either your soulmate is very, very clueless; or he just doesn't want anything to do with you. You have to find out which answer it is before you decide whether to let go of him or not.
Alright, Mr. Mafia Boss, you clench your teeth. I don't have to deal with your mafia directly to get an audience with you. Let's see how far this game can go.
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Moonlight slants through his ceiling-to-floor windows. Seungcheol grits his teeth as he watches the surveillance that Lee found for him. You, walking home the night of 14 February, around 10pm, going faster and faster as that son-of-a-bitch followed you. His arms rest on his chair as he sees himself appear and knock the guy out cold.
He sighs. So it really was you. He'd recognise that face anywhere.
He looks at his tattoo once more, hating how perfectly it entwines with the rest of his tattoos. So much for covering it up. He turns his arm around again and again. It's exquisite, but it lies there like a burden.
And it picks the perfect timing to start burning. Seungcheol grunts in pain, clutching his arm as it burns, sears with the same pain it did that night. He doesn't know how the system came about, but what he knows is this: You're in danger. And as annoyed as he is about this whole situation, he has to find you. If only to make the pain stop.
He reaches for his telephone, and when the other line picks up he hisses: "Find her. Now. Scour all the surveillance in the city. I don't care what you have to do, but find her."
He can hear his man barking out orders in the background, and he shakily puts the phone down. Lee comes bursting into the room, grabs Seungcheol's arm to check on him. Normally, Seungcheol would have the head of anyone who dared to touch him without permission, but given Lee's position in this predicament, he allows him to.
"Is it supposed to be like this?" Seungcheol groans out. "It hurts like hell."
"Yup," Lee mutters. "It is. Looks and seems exactly like mine whenever Bri got into danger."
"Danger--" Seungcheol scowls and tries getting up. "You mean she's injured?"
Lee shrugs. "I don't know if it extends to normal minor situations, but whenever Bri got into a fight, I'd feel my arm burning."
"Her, fight. Don't make me laugh," Seungcheol scoffs, then grunts again as another wave of pain hits him. "She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly."
"We've located her, boss," Another man comes into the room, holding a laptop towards him.
"Where?"
When silence answers him, he hisses. "I didn't ask you this question for you to not fucking reply. I asked where?"
"The border of Territory 7, sir."
"What the hell is she doing there? Is she an underworld member, too?" Lee wonders out loud.
Seungcheol pushes himself up off his seat, wincing as his arm throbs slightly. "Fuck if I know. But I guess I have to find her if I want this pain to stop."
"I'll get men and go with you," Lee starts, but Seungcheol waves him off. "No need. We don't need to stir up a fuss, not when the territories are already misbehaving these few weeks. I'll get her, and... figure it out later."
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You're tapping your foot as you wander the edges of the city's largest turf. It's well-known that civilians shouldn't pass by here if they want to get home alive and well, but with the recent news of unrest stirring in such turfs, you figure that it's the best way to seek Seungcheol out. It's stupid, but it's your best bet. Plus, you figure that the nearer you are to
You must be near a group of militants on patrol duty, because you can hear hushed orders and boots crunching. You sigh and look at your watch.
"Are you actually stupid?"
You raise your head. "So it worked. So nice of you to join me this evening."
Seungcheol storms towards you. "So you tricked me?"
"Wasn't a trick." You mutter. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"You are a nutcase," He seethes, as he grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone caught you? These few places are red-light districts now. You're not supposed to be here."
"I wouldn't know. You came anyway."
Seungcheol lets you go and huffs at you. "Go home, and don't get any more stupid ideas. Yes, I'm your soulmate. Yes, my tattoo is also a snapdragon, and I guess I can sense when you're in places you shouldn't be because my arm fucking burns, okay? Got your answer?"
"No," You say defiantly. "I haven't found out one thing. Why were you so desperate to deny that you weren't my soulmate? But you still came running anyway."
"This," He hisses, stepping closer to you, "is a pain in my ass. I can't work if my tattoo's going to start hurting every half hour. So for god's sake, please stay out of anything that doesn't concern you. Do not run into a lion's den to get an audience with me."
"So you're going to give me a way to contact you?" You shrug. "Sure, if that will keep me from making rash decisions."
Seungcheol furrows his brows. "What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you can't think I'm going to let you go after all of this, do you?"
What??
"Did I not make myself clear en-"
"Oh, you did," You say. "Like you said, you came running because you could sense I was somewhere I shouldn't be. So you can't stay away no matter how much I piss you off, can you?"
"I nev-"
"That's how soulmates work, Mr. Mafia Boss." You say smugly. "We can't stay away from each other, like a moth can't stray from the light."
Seungcheol scowls at you and then proceeds to maintain a ten-second glaring competition until he blows out a breath.
"Ten more reasons why I hate this bond so much," He mutters, before pulling out a business card and shoving it into your hands. "I've got ground rules. Don't call me for stupid reasons. Do not call to ask me out privately. Do not give my number to anyone for any reason. No exceptions, unless you want a bullet through your brain."
"Did you just threaten to shoot me...." You peruse the business card. "Choi Seungcheol?"
"Yes, and what about it?"
"You know nothing about being a gentleman."
"Never said I was one. Get in the car."
"You''re going to shoot me in there? With the expensive leather?"
"I will if you don't keep your mouth shut and start moving."
You zip it and follow him.
Success. You've met your soulmate. (You're sitting in his car, too.)
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He said you couldn't call. But texting exists, so.... You're determined to bug him until he takes notice.
"It's me."
He leaves you on read.
The next day you add another message. "I guess I'll write to an empty chatroom. I'm doing good, I just had a sandwich for breakfast and I'm going to continue writing now."
5pm: "I'm done with my next chapter. Trying to find an illustrator for the cover. I'm craving soup."
11pm: "goodnight! hope your work or whatever's going well. You can't tell me anything about what you're doing?"
And so it continues, for a full three days, with silly texts about a sentence error you wrote, or a funny thing you ate, or asking him what he's doing at work, until you get a single response from him that has you rolling your eyes: "Be quiet."
You do not, to Seungcheol's chagrin, keep quiet.
He didn't think you could talk so much to someone who never replied. In a week he'd all but figured out your life pattern: wake up, eat, write (he had no idea what you were writing), find publishers and illustrators, take a walk maybe in the late afternoon, eat again, and write until it was time to sleep. You lead an awfully idyllic life compared to him, he thinks as he closes your text.
You also seem to have a love for soup, he realises. The weirdest fucking craving.
And croissants from his fake cafe. You sent him photos of it across the week, and he wonders how you never get tired of the damn thing. Your food cravings change from soup to something else every now and then, getting more bizarre with each one. (Pasta with pickles? Really?)
It was cute. (He cursed himself out after thinking about it.)
And so it goes for two more weeks until Seungcheol decides this has to stop. He texts you back for once, and you're elated as you read his text.
"Be ready Saturday night. Zip it for now, will you? I'm trying to work."
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You're waiting outside your house when he pulls up. You already know that he knows exactly where you live, so you never bothered texting him your address. You get in once he stops the car, his grumpy face still on full display.
"Thanks for taking me out," You say, smiling at him, and he grunts as he pulls out and steps on the accelerator. "Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"
You shrug. "And you gave in. Is that a soulmate thing?"
"I will drop you off right this second if you say 'soulmate' one more time." He threatens.
He rubs the sleeve covering the skin on which his tattoo lies, and you frown. "Is it causing you trouble? I haven't gone anywhere weird recently, though."
"No. And you better not have."
He doesn't say much after that, simply drives about twenty minutes to a sleek, al fresco restaurant. The neon lights, warm-looking space draws you in, and when you read the menu outside while waiting for him to park...
"Soup? So you did read my texts!"
"You won't shut up about it. A little hard to miss it even if I wanted to."
You chuckle and flip through the menu. "So what're you getting?"
"You pick, you're the one craving soup of all things," He mutters absently. "Don't really care. Just came to get a message across."
"What is it?"
"Sit first before I tell you."
And so you do. He lets you get tomato soup and grilled cheese, pasta and a soda, and says absolutely nothing. He eats a little, rolling his eyes at the amount you inhale. Finally, you put down your fork. "So what did you want to tell me?"
He swallows his water before putting the glass down. "Just one thing."
You cock your head. "I'm listening."
"Why are you contacting me personally, so often? I'm sure I said not to do that."
"You said not to call," You reply, smiling. When he looks like he's about to protest, you smile again. "So I texted."
"You're fucking impossible," He mutters.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Nothing. Anyway, stop that. I'm a busy man."
"I know. That's why I text, like, three times in a day. It's not a lot, is it?"
His hand comes down on the table, not loud enough to cause a scene but firm enough to catch your attention. "I don't have the time to entertain you, Miss Y/N. You know who I am, and that was my fault, and I think it would do you good to remember that."
"Pulling the mafia leader card on me, again?" You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know what you do, and you won't tell me. I write about people like you and mobsters. You're exactly what I write in my books."
"I am not one of your little book characters," Seungcheol hisses back. "I am not a work of fiction or something you pull out of your imagination and twist about like your plaything. I am real, and I am someone who can hurt you if I want to. And I don't owe you any information. Stop bothering me, got it?"
"Is that why you brought me here?" A surge of confidence and defiance grips you. He couldn't have taken you out to somewhere he knew you'd enjoy for no reason.
He scowls. “I can go wherever I want. Don’t read too much into it.”
You grin. “Sure.”
He nods.
“So can I continue messaging you?”
He groans. “Did you not get any of what I just said?”
You shrug. "Guess you’ll have to tell me a few more times.”
He sighs loudly, and his fingers drum the table as he seemingly goes deep into thought. The scowl is almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face, you think.
After a long moment, he groans and utters: “Next Sunday. 6pm.”
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He takes you out two more times. The next Sunday, to a small restaurant you chose. This time he ate better, the consistent strain in his forehead almost easing as he bit into the lasagna.
He answered your questions, albeit grumpily, and when you got off his car that night, you thought, as you opened your journal up again, that he was finally, finally warming up to you.
But the next time he brings you out, he is visibly in a stormy mood, barely making conversation and stabbing his meat with his fork.
“Is there something wrong?” You ask.
“No.”
And there the conversation ends.
As dessert rolls in, you try one more time.
“So… how’s work lately?”
“Fine.”
“Ah.”
Please talk. Please.
“You know, I always wonder what a mafia boss does,” You pick up your spoon. “Like, order kills or something?”
Seungcheol picks up his glass. “I remember telling you not to ask about what I do.”
“And you don’t have to give me a full answer,” You shrug. “I’m just asking for a general idea. I thought it’d be nice if I got to know what you do.”
Seungcheol sits back in his seat. "Don't read too much into what I do, love." He takes another sip of water. "You can't honestly think I'm interested in you enough to reveal myself after a few meals. You said you're a writer. You shouldn't be this easy to lie to, you know that?"
Yeah, screw this.
Any confidence you had sizzles out. Easy to lie to. He thinks you're a gullible, small girl eating up every morsel of attention he deigns to give you when he feels like it. Red-hot, burning humiliation and shame rise in you.
After a long pause, you nod. "Alright. Fine. I get it. I apologise for occupying your time."
He surveys you for a second, then nods, like he just made a good business deal. "Just so we make things clear with each other."
"Crystal," You reply, no warmth in your words. "I think I finally got what you wanted to say. I thought you just weren't used to this... idea of having a soulmate, so I wanted to warm you up to it. But now I see you never wanted one in the first place."
Seungcheol furrows his brows just a fraction.
You push your chair back. You're careful not to look or seem angry, in part not to show him you're affected, and also to just... save face. He already embarrassed you. No need to do it again in public. "Take care, Mr. Choi. Thanks for putting up with me, anyway. It won't happen again. I’ll get the bill."
Soulmate, my ass.
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It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.
Glass meets the plaster of the wall. His tattoo lies there, barren, lacking its usual warmth even though nothing was taken away.
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Ladies and gentlemen, this is perhaps how the story goes. He pushed her away, and she realised how the universe’s plan, this whole concept, had utterly failed. There were never meant to be pre-ordained people. People change, and oftentimes they disappoint…
The journal remains open, the last sentence discontinued.
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T w o M o n t h s L a t e r
Soft, oozing vocals of Clara Bow fill your apartment as you pack your writing materials. You're done writing for the day.
You glance at the clock. Nine p.m. In time for a snack and TV before you head to bed.
When you turn on the TV, the news catches your attention. Another territory struggle, another turf battle for control. You shake your head and switch the channel. Typical.
As you settle down into the cushions with chips and a glass of white wine, sudden searing pain, hot and white and agonising, shoots down your arm. You gasp and grasp it in your other hand, almost keeling over at how painful it is.
Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.
You sink to the floor, clutching your arm and sweat starting to bead your forehead. It hurts, your arm hurts, everything hurts.
Is Seungcheol in trouble?
His name card. Right. You can just find out for yourself, and if he asks, you could just say the tattoo's causing you a lot of pain. Yes. That's it.
You stagger to your drawers to find his card, messing everything up in the process. You fumble for your phone and dial his number, again and again and again, but all you’re greeted with is a beep and an automated voice instructing you to leave a message.
You don’t know what to do. No emergency contact, no one you can find… hell, you don’t even know where he is. As you’re standing, getting ready to run out and search, there's a pounding on your door.
You barely make it to the door and open it, and there stands the freckled, tan man whose name you never got. He looks awkward, eyes racing to your tattoo. "I'm sure you must be in a lot of pain," He says. "Mr. Choi ordered me to check on you."
"Check on me?" You almost wheeze. "What's going on that my arm hurts this badly?"
Lee shakes his head. "Not right now. We will talk in the van."
"Of course you can't say." You snap, patience wearing thin, temper as riled up as the pain in your arm. You're done with his secrets. "I can't know what he's doing, I can't know where he is, or if he's alive or dead, even if the pain he's causing may very well kill me too."
"You won't die," Lee says, a little more kindly. "If this comforts you, my soulmate's gone, and I'm still here."
Your anger evaporates a fraction. "I'm sorry about that."
"No need to be." Lee sighs, then reaches his own arm out. "Hold on to me, I won’t do anything weird. I'll take you to him. He's going to be a bitch when he sees you, but... I think it would be good for both of you. More often than not, distance breaks things apart."
"He's enough of a bitch even when I'm around," You mumble, but you take his arm anyway as he helps you out.
Without much effort, he gets you into the van he came in, and barks out an order to the curious men inside to drive into what he calls "The Heart".
"What's the Heart?" You ask, as he passes you a canteen of water to drink from.
"It's what it sounds like. The heart of our territory." Lee explains, eyes trained in front. "Mr. Choi's there when we... have scuffles, and that's usually the place where security is tightest, so he can be near to us to get updates and give orders, and still not get into danger."
"So he is a leader."
"He is, and one of those you wouldn't want to cross. He's quick with his work, and he can resort to getting his hands dirty if he has to. His network and connections are... frighteningly impressive, to say the least."
"Funny how I'm hearing it from you and not him," You huff as you lay your head back, trying not to think about the pain.
"He hasn't had the experience of telling people about his life, Miss," Lee chuckles. "But I figured you'll know eventually, so better sooner than later, right?"
"Sooner than later?"
"You're meant to stick around him, Miss. For the good and bad. You're his soulmate, after all."
"I don't know if we'll get there." You sigh, and close your eyes. "Is he badly hurt? Will me being there even help matters?"
Lee shrugs. "We'll find out."
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Lee gets six men to flank you both as he walks you in. Up ahead, there's a building seemingly made of unforgiving steel, it's blank canvas looming in the dark red, streaked sky.
"That's the Heart?"
"That’s the one. Unpenetrable, Miss. Let's go in."
You pray for all your sakes it really is as Lee takes you up into the elevator. When he opens one of the (almost) hundreds of similar doors to lead to an empty, cell-like room, and inside sits Seungcheol, with a red fabric pressed---
"You're bleeding," You blurt. The pain in your arm subsides just a fraction, perhaps jarred by the sensation of finally, finally, meeting him.
He looks up, eyes twisting in furious shock as he glares at Lee, and then you (you don’t know why). "Exactly which part of my order did you not understand, Lee?"
Lee bows his head in apology. "I'll never take away a chance to meet your soulmate away, you know that, sir."
Seungcheol scowls hard, and you're almost afraid he's going to shoot Lee there and then.
"Get out."
Lee smiles, ushers you in and walks out. "I'll be back in half an hour to report. I'll call for the doctor again."
You bend and peel aside the fabric. Once white, it's now soaked red, it's warmth unsettling. There's blood, so much of it, and on his once unblemished skin now contains a mess of open flesh, blood, and a...
A bullet.
"A gun." You mumble.
"Try not to throw up." He replies, ever-so-gently nudging you away. "This is Armani."
"You jerk."
His face twists in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." The anger is returning. "You say all sorts of fucking nonsense to keep me away, and we meet again months later because you're shot. And that may be a normal day for you, Mr. Choi, but us civilians don't go about our day-to-day expecting a bullet hole to appear in our skin."
His hand clenches up.
"This is why I said everything I did," He snarls in return, putting more pressure on his wound. "I knew I would never want you to try to handle what I am!"
"You never let me try," You hiss. "You refused to tell me anything, to let me see what your life was like. No, you chose to shut me out! And don't you dare tell me what I can or can't handle."
He huffs. "I see no reason in dragging you, or anyone else, in when it isn't needed."
"Yet Lee brought me here tonight." You point out. "He knows something you clearly don't."
"Lee is a nosy fucker." He snaps.
"He's someone who's experienced it all. His soulmate is gone, Seungcheol."
"And look at the pain it caused him. At least if anything happens to me, it's no love lost for you."
"Shut up."
"What?"
"I said shut up. Sometimes people want to help you. Sometimes people wouldn't actually mind, I don't know, going into this Heart place to check on you. Sometimes, you need to get it into your thick skull that I actually want to be here, to make sure you don't die while this stupid snapdragon is burned into me!"
His eyes meet yours.
"But you won't get it!" You chuckle. "You send men to check on me when I’m in pain, but I doubt you have any intention of finding me after all this gets better."
"You think I wanted to?" He shoots back.
"And you think I had it all settled for me? That I was better off not knowing the person that was meant for me, this whole time?"
"I never wanted that." Seungcheol insists hotly. "Look at my world, it's a mess, a violent place, a--"
"And there has to be a reason I'm the one picked out!" You defend. "Do you have any idea what snapdragons stand for?"
When he doesn't reply, you continue. "It stands for grace and strength. I can handle all of this. I'm not meant to measure up with your headstrong personality anyway."
"Then what are you meant for?" He asks, tone now soft, dejected.
"To complement you," You reply. You've never been this sure in your life. "To make up for the traits you lack. I'm not supposed to be as strong, or as fierce as you are. I'm meant to... ground you. That's what soulmates are. To... allow each other's strengths to shine and make up for what they don't have yet."
Seungcheol goes quiet.
"And you?" He asks, after a long pause. "What do I complement you in?"
You survey him again. "That's something I can't discover yet, because you won't let me."
“So what do you suggest?” He continues.
“No more hiding. Show me who you are. No restraint, I don’t need you to keep anything secret.”
“What if you end up like Lee?”
“Then it would have been a life well spent, at least.”
Seungcheol grunts with effort as he leaves his seat and stumbles to you. "And if I obeyed, and let you in?"
You look at him square in the eye. "Then it would be my honour to stand with you... or in the shadows, or wherever you make me stand."
"This sounds a lot like an induction of one of my men," Seungcheol murmurs. "I don't want that."
"Then what do you want?" You ask softly.
Seungcheol looks down at you, emotions warring in his eyes. After a while, he slumps and turns away. “Fuck. I can’t do this to you.”
“Tell me what you want, Seungcheol,” You say quietly. “You order people around for a living. I’m telling you to be honest with me, too.”
"…You. With me. Wherever you, or I, want to be."
You shrug a little as he cups your face. "I can live with that."
"You better," Seungcheol mumbles, as his mouth finds yours at last, burning more than any wretched tattoo, warmth spreading to your fingertips. "After everything you just said... I don't imagine you're going anywhere for a while."
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February 14, 2026
The doctor came to patch him up. His hand squeezed yours hard as the bullet was finally pried out of him.
It's honestly a blur to you now when you think about it, but all you remember is his eyes boring into yours, his unwavering, callused grip on your hand.
"The snapdragon symbolises strength and grace reflected in their tall, strong stems, blooms and resistance to colder temperatures. Others believe they also represent deception and deviousness.
She embodied grace. She was his missing piece, the trait he needed to complement his headstrong nature. But he also needed someone strong enough to stand with him, through every obstacle his work throws him in. And she... she needed his courage and unwavering will to stand with her through it all."
You put the pen down. Mmm. Not too bad for a closing chapter. You send a text to the new publishing house that you contacted two weeks ago. They had seen your draft, and they loved it. Two weeks from now, when everything is settled, you promise yourself, you will show Seungcheol. He'd been curious for a while now about what holed you up in your writing room.
"Love?"
You look up from biting into your croissant. "Well, look who's back from Sicily. How did the meetings go?"
Seungcheol smiles and opens his arms. "Not too bad. I suppose the love you share for novels, along with the Don's* wife, was a selling point. She was most keen on sending you," He cocks his head to the pile of books at his feet, "this. She said it'd make a good Valentines' gift, since I've been poor at accompanying you these few months."
"That sounds perfect. We're both suckers for romances."
As you sink into his embrace, the tattoo once again burns, but it's not the passionate, red-hot zealous heat. It's warm, comforting, like a hot chocolate in winter.
He sighs. "Happy Valentines', love. I'm going to lose my girl to a bunch of fictional mafia men again?"
"You know it."
"I still don't understand why. You have one right here, next to y-"
"Softer! Do you want the whole town to hear you?"
fin.
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*Don = the highest role in an organised crime family
thank you for reading 💟
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yuvany · 5 months ago
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BE MINE...PLEASE
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 confessing their love because you don't realise that they love you.
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OT7 ENHYPEN x female reader . . . CONTENT/ WARNING(S) : fluff + friends to lvrs + kissing in a few + little long + not proofread . . WORD COUNT : 1168. CHECK BOX !!
yu-note : side-tracked on some, and got off topic, but I hope you enjoy this ! - REQUEST FOUND HERE !!
( REBLOGS + FEEDBACK always appreciated !! )
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
"I've always loved you, Y/n!" He says, his voice sounding desperate like he's been holding it in for so long. You try to reply, but he interrupts, "I don't know how I should tell you this, but I've been asking your friends for help and I've done what they said, but it still doesn't work." You place a palm on his shoulder to calm him down. "Heeseung, I see you as a close friend, and I never really wanted to make it awkward." Heeseung approaches you, his eyes meeting yours again. "So, do you like me too?" He asks, his tone seeking for your assurance with eyes seeming more desperate than his words. You hum, and see how his eyebrows loosen upon hearing your answer. "I in fact do." You say, trailing your fingers up the contours of his face, locking eyes with him and leaning in for a kiss.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
It was valentines day, and Jay had planned every detail on a microscopic level for it to be perfect. In the morning, he went and bought a bouquet of roses, then he picked up the teddy bear before he went to see you. His heart began to race, and in his mind, he thought he would get a heart attack. At the junction of the roads you see him sitting on a bench. "Jay? Who are these gifts for? Is it for Soha?" You ask, and he shakes his head. You throw in more guesses, but get it wrong. "Y/n." He interrupts. "These are for you" You are shook by this. "Wait, are you for real?" Jay nods his head, and hands you the bouquet first. "Yeah, I don't know how you didn't catch up on all of my hint up until now." He rants "Jay, I actually always liked you too, but I didn't wanna get ahead of myself here!" You smile, and you see his tense expression relax. "Really?" "Really."
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
You and him went to see a movie, a movie that Jake had chosen. Jake insisted that he carries the bowls of popcorn even though you offered to help. "What movie are we seeing?" You ask your friend after finding your seats. "It'll be a surprise." He says, his usual smile painting his face. After a couple of minutes into the movie, you figure out that it's a romance movie upon seeing the main characters kiss. "Didn't realise you could bring friends to watch a romance movie." You joke, and Jake chuckles a bit. "Now you know what movie to bring your future girlfriend to." Jake is silent, getting impatient now. "Will you be my 'future' girlfriend?" It takes a moment for you to realise what he said as you see him get closer. "Me?" His hand holds onto yours as he nods. "Of course." You say and close the distance between you two to peck his lips.
𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉
While you and Sunghoon are walking together, he asks if you've gotten any love letters. "I have, but they're never from the right person." You sigh, and he nods along. "What do you mean?" You explain how the only love letters you get are from people you don't know and that it's all so vague, and also how you wish people gave you hints that they liked you if they were to send you a letter. As Sunghoon listens closely to your rant, he realised that he has been hinting his love for you, but yet you don't realise. "Y/n, I have something to confess." He says, and you nod your head. "I've wanted to say this for a while, but I thought you'd catch on all the hints I've dropped that I like you, but it hurts hearing you speak so casually about them. So here it is; I love you." You are stunned by this confession, and say, "I have noticed, but I always thought they were on accident. It lightens my heart that you love me, because I like you too."
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢
Isn't one to easily get worked up and frustrated, but when he sees you getting more distant and avoidant, he starts to state questions in his head. First, he goes over to ask your friends, but they say that they have no idea why that is. Had he done something? He spots you turning a corner and rushes over to you with quick strides. You see him, but it is too late to turn around and escape becuase you two already made eye contact. "Y/n!" He calls out. "Sunoo..." You drag out with a forced smile. "Have I done something? Why are you ignoring me?" He asks, leaving no room for greetings. "I'm not-" "Yes, you are!" He sighs, and you copy. "I heard you talking about a girl, and I guessedd it was her from class ( ), and I know she likes you too, so I didn't want to come in between you two." You see Sunoo giggle, his demeanor turning around. "You're so silly. That girl I was talking about is you!" You flush at how ridiculous your assumtion was.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡
He takes you to a cafe, offering to buy you something warm in contrast to the weather. Jungwon guides you over to a table before he walks up to the register, asking for a latte, and requesting a heart design on it with your initial on it. He really hoped you'd get the hint, knowing that he'd explode if he didn't confess. When it arrives, you arch an eyebrow. "Did yoy add my initial?" you ask while inspecting the drink. Jungwon nods, and you shrug it off, not paying it any mind. "You know, this might be a hint..." He coos. "Like what?" "Maybe that I like you?" he says, dragging out each syllable. You look up at him confused, seeing his eyebrows knitted in worry. "I hope you don't that this the wrong way." Jungwon adds in a hurry. You playfully scoffs, "of course not."
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜
"I am better than him, I'm sure you know that." Riki announces, catching you off-guard by the sudden switch in tone. "What are you saying, Riki?" You look up at him confused from the couch. "Were you peeking at my phone?" You ask, conneccting the dots. "Yeah? But why are you trying to get together with someone else when I'm right here?" He asks, his words coming out like a cannon was fired. "Not quite sure by what you mean." You say, and Riki tilts his head as well as raising an eyebrow. "I see your phone still. Who even is he? He looks short." Riki points at you phone screen as he commenst nastily. "It's not even for me. My friend sent me this, but to answer your question, I'm certain you're better than him." It's quiet, and Riki hides his face in his hoodie after being embarrased. "No need to be shy now. I liked the bold Riki." You say.
TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa
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teamatsumu · 1 year ago
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where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)
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summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions
word count: 1981
tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties
event masterlist
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There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.
There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.
It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.
Friend.
The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.
High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.
Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.
Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.
“Ready for dinner?”
Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.
When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.
“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”
He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”
You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”
And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.
You can feel your shoulders drop.
After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.
As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.
When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.
“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.
“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”
You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.
“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”
Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.
Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.
“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”
You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.
“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”
And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.
……………………
Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.
Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.
Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.
Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.
You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.
You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.
He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.
“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.
“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.
“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.
You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”
You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.
“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.
“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”
“Me too.”
“Okay good.”
Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.
“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.
Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.
That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.
A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.
“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.
You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.
“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”
He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.
“I like you tons.”
You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.
“I like you tons too.”
Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.
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