#he complimented my perfume and said he would buy that for 'someone' while giving me this look

[earthgoddessmusings]

Part of my problem is that people think I'm flirting when I'm merely being myself. I don't soften my voice or alter my natural timbre for you, this is literally just how I speak.

[tootster]

Why Do You Think You’re Ugly?

     When my partner gives me a compliment, I have to turn away awkwardly and laugh it off. I deny it or try to give him a compliment to take the attention away from myself because I simply don’t believe it. We’ve been together for nearly 4 years and he doesn’t understand why I feel this way about myself. I don’t think a lot of people understand where it comes from or they believe this is something recent that can be pinpointed. However, it’s not and only I know that. Therefore, I decided to write out the origin of my self-hatred. This isn’t to trigger anyone, it’s just a way for me to release it all. 

At age 11, my mom told me I wasn’t allowed to drink the 2% milk in the fridge anymore. I didn’t understand, my brothers could drink it so why couldn’t I? My mom told me that my brothers were “smaller” than me and I “didn’t need the extra fat”. 

At age 12, my best friend at the time tucked in her uniform shirt to reveal her perfectly thin, long, curvy-feminine figure. When I tucked in my shirt and looked at myself in the mirror, I looked like a rectangle. I didn’t think I was fat but I knew my body wasn’t pretty or delicate like hers or my other classmates. 

At age 13, I was invited to a pool party and all of my friends were wearing skimpy bikinis except for me. When I asked my mom to buy me a bikini, she told me that I put on weight in my tummy and didn’t have the body to pull it off.

At age 14, my brothers and I went to Hollister to buy clothes for school. My brothers left the store with bags stuffed full of t-shirts and jeans while all I could buy was a bottle of perfume because I was too big to fit into their clothes. 

At age 17, I wanted to go to prom so badly because I was never asked out on a date or to a dance and I so badly wanted to experience it. My mom took me dress shopping to find the perfect gown for me. I was forced to look in the plus-size section because my broad shoulders and big boobs made it impossible to zip up any of the normal sized gowns. 

At age 18, I was in college watching my teammates flirt with guys at the bar while I was asked to just take their pictures instead. The guys went after my petite, delicate, feminine-looking teammates that could pull off skimpy dresses and skirts. I wanted to dress like them but I didn’t own those clothes nor could fit in them and pull them off the same as my teammates. 

At age 19, I went through pictures of my mom, aunts, and grandma to try to find someone that looked like me. They were all thin and delicate while I looked big, chubby, and manly. No one had my body. 

At age 20, a guy friend of mine told me that my roommate was a 9/10 on the hotness scale. When I asked him what I would be ranked, he said “you’re a 5 maybe a 6 at best”. I had another friend tell me that I needed to hit the squat rack because my bum was too small despite the fact that I was already lifting/squatting 4 times a week. 

At age 21, my coach told me I was the most unathletic athlete she had ever seen and that I needed to “cut out the bacon” and work out more. I was forced to do extra workouts and work with a nutritionist to try to lose weight. 

At age 22, my strength coach fat shamed me in front of my entire team. My senior season, we ordered new uniforms for game day. My boobs were so big that I was forced to wear a larger jersey which made me look even bigger than I was. My teammates wouldn’t let me wear the size medium pants so I was stuck with the size large that sagged off my legs and made it look like I had no bum. My body was photographed and shown on national television and I hated every minute of it. 

At age 23, I tried to go on dates but the guys only wanted to be friends. I would find out months later that they were dating a girl that was smaller and more feminine looking than me. 

A year later I met the love of my life and I think he’s the most wonderful man in the entire world. I love him just as he is and would do anything for him. He loves me for me but in the back of my mind, I fear that he’ll drop me because I’m not pretty enough. I know I’m not overweight or ugly but when you go through most of your life being told that your body is flawed and not good enough, it’s difficult to know what to believe. 

[hyukabean]

txt’s love languages // giving and receiving

req — an irl friend wanted my opinion on this, so i thought why not make it a post lol

nana’s notes — just my opinion ofc!! feel free to leave your thoughts below ^^

warning(s) — none!

unedited.

choi yeonjun

giving: acts of service, gift giving

alright, i feel like this is kinda self explanatory tbh

jun is the embodiment of acts of service!! just look the todo ep 13, remember when kai fell? (i mean how could you forget-) and jun was laughing his ass off with everyone, and them immediately goes into hyung mode and says, “be careful”, cause there was a table behind him?

yeonjun teases people, a. LOT. but, he also cares equally as much! he may not verbalize it often, but he’ll definitely show you his love through his lil actions!

its the hand on your back to make sure you don’t bump yourself anywhere, or the non-sexual dominance like holding your hand when you cross the street, standing in front of you always, regardless of your height:<

gift giving is also quite clear! remember when he was buying perfume for gyu, and gyu had no idea? he’s the type of casually stroll buy and drop a gift into your lap, and say: “this reminded me of you”, or “bought this on my way here”, regardless of how expensive it might be

once again, he cares, but he doesn’t want to have to say it, so you gotta read between the lines a lil bit~

receiving: words of affirmation, physical affection

yeonjun is clearly a fan of words of affirmation, i mean come on~ have you see this man when he gets complimented on vlive? or when a member is complimenting someone he’s like??uh?? what about me??? hello?????

he may be super flirty, but he can tell genuine and fake compliments apart really well, so your words, provided you’re being truthful, really so mean a lot to him!

“who’s pretty? hmm? me? awww my baby thinks i’m handsome? cute~”, meanwhile he’s losing his shit on the inside-

same with physical affection, he wants love, but he doesn’t want to ask for it!! the amount of time be randomly hugs the members or cuddles with them? not a coincidence;)

back hug him a bit, or pinch his cheeks every once in a while! and if you’re feeling adventurous, kiss his neck or cheek and just dip;)) he’ll be like?? huh? “뭐야…”

now sit back and watch blush for a solid second before he fixes his composure to get you back:))…

choi soobin

giving: words of affirmation, quality time

words of affirmation is a big thing for soobs! soobin is a leader, when he talks, people listen. though he is quite shy, he often cheers on the members when they’re nervous and consoles them when they’re upset.

binnie also knows when to ask, and when not to; if your relationship is a bit new, it may take some time for him to pick up on your habits, but he becomes a pro sooner rather than later!

this means he is super aware! the second he sees you looking a little glum, he’d know something is up, instantly. “bun, is something up?”, he’d pout slightly, wondering who or what in this world would want to piss you off so badly!! “aww… c’mere bunny, let me compliment you a bit, hmm?”

soobin also enjoys spending quality time together with you! he’s obviously busy being an idol, but if anything, it makes the moments you share even more precious to him

like he said, he’ll take the back seat in a relationship and go along with whatever his s/o would want to do!

best believe that if you want to text? he’ll giggle into his pillow and rant to kai about how cute you are. you wanna call? okay, let him grab his headphones for ‘privacy’ (he’s goons share everything with kai anyways but yk-). you wanna meet up or cuddle? just lay down and listen to him slow breaths and soft little giggles!

receiving: words of affirmation

remember that idol house episode i referenced in my meet the members post? where soobin gets pouty cause no one was complimenting him? yeah okay case closed.

words of affirmation, mean a loooot to mr choi! the members have mentioned him reading fan comments in his free time, so i think enough said!

just grab his lil face, give him a lil kiss, and list all the things you love about him! “mhmm m-munny you’re maging me mlush!”, he’d stutter out, but like?? don’t stop obviously? duh????

soobin will light up when someone praises him, verbally expressing their feelings or thoughts truly foes mean a lot to him! he wouldn’t mind getting physical affection as a token of love, but saying to him? that’s a whole new level…

choi beomgyu

giving: quality time

beomgyu is surprisingly reserved, but he mainly shows his love through quality time.

watch any todo episode, any vlive, literally anything! gyu is always cracking jokes, trying to make sure everyone enjoyes themselves, truly the mood maker:))

he is super receptive, and though he may not always be able to express it in words, he will find a joke or funny remark to make anyone cheer up when they’re feeling down!

“hey! y/n!! look at me!!! heyyyy god gave you eyes so you could marvel at my face, so look at me already!”

during these times, he’ll do anything with you! you always get to hear his new releases first, you get to help him with his lyrics, or just lay in his arms and hear him ramble or sing

“y/n… if i was a worm-”, “gyu nO”, “Y/N WHAT IF”

receiving: words of affirmation

beomgyu loves to hear words of affirmation! just telling him “well done!” or “good job!” makes him go soft </3

beomgyu foes super quite if he sees that someone, especially members aren’t listening to him… don’t get me wrong! beomgyu knows damn well that he’s a catch, but… hewoudln’tmindhearingitfromtimetotime-

when he realizes just how much he likes you, he’s fucked. but then, when you tell him verbally how fucked you are for him? he’s gone. i’m taking tapioka eyes and all!!! wide eyed and so pure n soft

finally someone can reassure him in the right way! someone who will stick with him through thick and thin!

“do you like it?”, “it sounds wonderful gyu, thank you! nice to know i’ve got someone who’ll compose songs about me~ i’m so lucky to have you pretty boy”, cue eyes lighting up:(((

please do make sure you reassure him from time to time though… or else you’ll see him randomly pouting in the corner, crossing his arms slightly, thinking he had annoyed you or worse, upset you some how!!

“angel, is something up?”, “…you haven’t spoken to me today…….”, “gyu…….. i just aRRIVED”, “I DONT CARE DAMN IT”

kang taehyun

giving/receiving: acts of service

taehyun’s love language is the same, whether he’s giving or receiving! taehyun is a straightforward person, but he shows his love subtly!

after being together, even if its only for a short while! he picks up on the smallest details! how you like your coffee/tea, what time you shower, when you wake up/go sleep, mans a y/n-lexicon

he’ll cook for you, clean your desk, anything to help you out a bit! and his heart will flutter if you do the same!!

“oh? coffee? two sugars, no cream? you remembered!!”

also has a slight thing for gift giving, but in a service type of way? like, he’ll buy you certain items to life just a lil easier for you:)) “here’s the portable fan you wanted! and a cup that will keep your tea warm for extra long!”

huening kai

giving: physical touch, gift giving

hue. ning. kaiiiiii. the tummy patter, the cuddle bug, the most likely to hug you more than your own mother!!!!!! ofc his love language is gonna be physical touch, no duh???

we all know hyuka loves to rub and pat the members’ tummies and you’re no different! like soobin always says, you cant hate kai! you can’t ever say no to him!!

literally, you could be sitting down, tummy pats. drinking boba? tummy pats. menstrual pain/general aches? tummy pats. its fool proof okay??

he’ll also randomly grab your hand when he can’t pat your stomach! he’ll play with your fingers, hold them to his face, cuddle into you like he does with soob! the boys a walking fluff ball with so so much love to give!!

kai takes his skinship se!! ri!! ous!! ly!!!!! he’ll find the dumbest excuses at first, cause he’s sacred he’ll come off too clingy:(( “you smell nice…”, or “odi is looking at you funny, i think he’s gonna bite…”, “kai he’s in a cAGE-”

def a spoon. not a small spoon, or a bug spoon, just a spoon. cuz as long as he’s touching you, he’s okay!!

plz just pat his head, and listen n try not to go deaf to his laugh n soft giggles n aegyo:((((

hyuka would buy gifts from time to time, like plushies at crane games at the arcade/carnivals/etc, but really, he just wants them to make cuddling more enjoyable dkshsj- so gift giving ig? but not really~

receiving: physical touch

i feel like kai would love someone who can match his energy in terms of affection, hands down. physical touch = love in his eyes

HOWEVER!! i have an inclination that he would adore a tsundere partner even more! not necessarily in terms of personality, but more so someone who’s inexperienced or just too shy to admit they wanna cuddle n touch 24/7!!!

making them blush is the only thing on his mind, all hours of the day istg- and he’d such a tease too!!!: “oh? you wanna cuddle? no? then why are you leaning against me, hmm? huh, what’s that, could you speak up please? aww~~, since you asked so nicely!!”

he’d get such a kick put of watching them open up, and crave his touch slowly!!

but i do think he’d seriously struggle with someone who doesn’t like being touched fr. maybe if he likes them enough, he’ll stick around, but the chances are rather slim!

just please hug him, and kiss him, and call him ning ning!! this big boi will literally melt in your arms!!!

© hyukabean all rights reserved. - do not translate my work, claim it as your own, and/or repost on any platform

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

-

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

-

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Preview/Chapter 1

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Master list

“Looking good tonight Candy.” 

You rolled your eyes, frowning.

“Thanks Dave.”

Having your manager check you out every time you clocked in was one of the less fun parts of your job.  

You didn’t clock in to make any kind of hourly pay, and your real name was definitely not Candy. As a dancer at a gentleman's club you made your money on a pole and in private lap dance rooms, but it’s whatever pays the bills, and as a college student being able to make over a thousand dollars a week working just two nights was worth it. 

After checking in, you went back to the dressing room to check your makeup and outfit one last time and grab your money bag before heading back out to get your night started.  

Saturday nights used to not be your favorite, but they had been for a few months now because of one customer. The first night you met him, his friends had dragged him in after getting dumped to cheer him up. When you sat down with the nine of them you already knew it would be a good night, judging by the *quite* expensive VIP booth they’d bought. 

Your first impression of him wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, having met plenty of relatively good looking guys while working at the club and being quite used to groups like them doing birthdays or bachelor parties.

They were a fun group, and you found yourself actually having fun as they bought you rounds of drinks and perched you on their newly single friends lap. 

That night his friends bought him a private room with you, and he’d been back to see you again every Saturday night since.  

Baekhyun always arrived pretty early in the evening so you sat yourself down at the bar and made yourself look busy while you waited for him to show up. Tonight you were wearing a matching lace lingerie set along with a new pair of clear heels, and your hair straight down your back. With your nails done and your favorite perfume on to top it all off, you felt sexy as hell. On weeknights you didn’t try as hard, but on days he would be there you always made sure to put in a little extra effort to look as nice as possible. You told yourself it was just because he payed you so much, so you wanted to look your best. But you’d have been lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you wanted to impress him. Baekhyun, especially compared to other customers, was quite attractive. Having him fawn over you and compliment you always made you feel good. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder followed by a “hey” and turn around to see Baekhyun grinning back at you. 

“Hi Baekhyun” you smile back, getting up and giving him a small hug. 

“Hi Candy.”

Standing in 8 inch stripper heels you’re slightly taller than Baekhyun, and you find his usual glasses + hoodie + cargo pants combo endearing. Despite being somewhere around 30 and therefore significantly older than you, you can’t help but find him cute, adorable even. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course, you know what I like” you say, giving him smirk and running one perfectly manicured hand over his shoulder, and down his toned chest.

The whole time you touched him his eyes were fixated on yours, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to, something you’d noticed was unique to him compared to the other men you met there.

“Your outfit tonight it.. um..” he says, eyes now looking you up and down, almost drooling. “ I like it.” 

 It was the same thing every time he’d come see you. He’d buy two beers, one for him and one for you, and shorty after pay you $800 for an hour together in a private dance room. For any other guy it would be $1000, but he didn’t need to know that.

You made your way up the stairs towards the area of the club with the private dance rooms hand in hand, leading him behind you to give him the best view.

“Do you want me to dance for you today or do you just wanna talk?” You asked as you entered the room and took your top off, standing in front of him as he sat down on the couch. Usually you would dance for him for a few songs and spend the rest of the time sitting on his lap listening to him talk about whatever it might be that week but some days he just wanted your company and nothing more. 

“Just for this song, I really like this song.” He said looking up at you with big eyes. So, you got to work doing your usual thing.

Getting into the rhythm of the music, you started swaying your body and slowly leaning towards him.

This time both of your hands find purchase on his chest and you move your body in a wave, giving him the full close up view of your bare chest.

As you lean back up you notice he’s slumped deeper into the couch and biting his lip, already thoroughly turned on.

“Holy shit” he muttered to himself, watching your nearly naked form sway in front of him.

The way he looked at your body was different too. Most men looked at you like nothing more than a piece of meat, something to use for pleasure and nothing more. Not that you minded, as long as you got your money, but the way Baekhyun looked at you as you danced for him was almost like someone observing a piece of art. 

You rotated your body until you’re facing away from him, and bent down slowly, the curves of your ass on full display to him, making it jiggle a bit before bending back up and lowering yourself onto his lap.

“God you’re something else, I wish I could touch you.”

You noticed him sit on his hands, because of course he wasn’t actually allowed to touch you, you were only allowed to touch him.

Once you were situated on his lap, you started moving your hips to the music, causing his head to hit the back of the couch.

As usual, you could feel his dick straining against his pants as you rolled your hips over him.

“Fuck” you heard him whisper.

You knew how much he was holding himself back by the way he was sweating and panting. He was one of the few costumers who had never once tried to touch you, not even a little bit. Which you appreciated, but right now you felt yourself almost wanting him to, knowing that his reaction alone would be worth it for you to see.

So against your better judgement, and with the hope of a little extra money, you turn around, knees straddling his right thigh, and put your arms on each of his shoulders. You play with the hair at the base of his neck and whisper in his ear

“If you really want to, you can touch.”

You almost feel bad when you notice his entire body go rigid beneath you, eyes wide at your words.

“Are you serious?”

“I mean nothing too invasive please, but I don’t mind if you want to caress me here and there” you respond with a smile.

“Okay”

You see him swallow as you lowered yourself onto his lap again, this time feeling his hands make contact with the bare skin of your waist.

As you let your hips move with the music, his hands slowly wandered across your waist, hips, and sides. His hands on you were surprisingly warm, soft, and gentle. Under his gaze and in his hands you felt like your body wasn’t just being used for shallow, fleeting pleasure. You felt appreciated.

And this was exactly the problem with Baekhyun.

You knew that you liked him too much, more than you should like one of your customers. You shouldn’t be thinking about how soft and pretty his hands are as they make their way across the skin of your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft.”

You smile, now facing him once again as you sit with your knees on either side of his leg. You feel his words in the pit of your stomach and your hands caress his shoulders and chest, only now with his hands gently placed on your hips.

A few body rolls later and the song was over, so you shifted your weight onto one of his legs, sitting down on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and leaning into the couch.

“You’re gonna completely ruin me one day” he breathed out, making you giggle. “Why’d you let me do that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I could tell how much you held back and most guys try to touch me anyway so..”

“They just do it anyway?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah well I tell them not to and usually it’s fine after that”

You could sense his discomfort with what you’d just said, looking genuinely agitated.

“Yeah well those guys aren’t worth your time no matter how much they’re paying” he muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

“This is my job Baekhyun, there’s bad customers in every job” you respond timidly.

He turned to look you in the eyes again, this time more intensely due to the proximity of you sitting on his lap.

“Do you like working here?”

“Please don’t ask me that.”

“You know you don’t have to, I can take care of you.”

With the way his eyes bore into yours and he gripped your thigh, you knew he was serious. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted by his words.

Nonetheless you got up from his lap and sat next to him, bodies no longer touching.

“You know that’s not how this works Baekhyun.” You cross your arms over your bare chest, feeling like you needed to hide.

You look down, not wanting to look at him as you continue.

“It’s my job to make you feel good and give you something nice to look at but that’s all it is. My job. I’m sorry.”

He knew you were right. He knew because despite coming to see you every week for a few months now, he knew nothing about you. You wouldn’t tell him any details about your personal life, hell he didn’t even know your real name.

He knew he was stupid to have let himself become so completely fucked over a girl who wouldn’t even tell him her name.

“It’s okay, I understand, I’m sorry if that was too far”

You look at him again, giving him a soft smile.

“How was your week?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

You soon find yourself back on his lap as he starts talking to you about his week, but you couldn’t help feeling guilty. You could tell what Baekhyun felt for you was more than just sexual attraction, and yet he knew nothing about you. He’d asked you general things and you’d told him you were college student, which was true, but you’d lied about which college you attended. He asked about what you were studying and you’d lied about that too, quickly changing the topic back to him and his life.

Every time he tried to get to know the real you, you pushed him away, and you knew he could tell.

It fell silent for a moment, until Baekhyun spoke up.

“This is for touching you” he said as he dug in his pocket before pulling out three hundred dollar bills and putting them in the waistband of your thong.

He didn’t look at you as he gave you the money. It wasn’t until he was done that he grabbed your hand, and gave you another intense look.

“Please, can I please just know your name?” He asked.

With you sitting on his lap, faces close together you saw the desperation in his eyes. He’d spent a decent amount of time with you now and you knew how badly he wanted to know more about you, how much he wanted to be able to get to know the real you.

The way he looked up at you, with that look in his eyes, you knew you couldn’t tell him no.

You sighed.

“Okay. I’m y/n.”

~

Shorty after your hour together was up, Baekhyun went home and so did you. Counting your money was easy that night; just the eleven hundred dollar bills he’d given you. 

As you took your makeup off and got ready to finally sleep you couldn’t help but feel strange about Baekhyun knowing your real name. Despite how nice he smelled, how cute he was, and how kind, generous, and funny, and how you liked spending time with him more than any other customer, that’s still exactly what he was. A customer. Someone who walked into a club looking to pay hot girls in exchange for their attention. But at that point Baekhyun was your friend too. He’d been coming to see you for the whole summer, and you really did enjoy talking to him. 

Is it okay for him to actually get to know you? Is it okay for you to want him to? 

Next Chapter

A/N: Hello! This felt pretty short which is why it’s kind of a preview/first chapter but please tell me what you think :) and let me know if anyone wants to be tagged for the next chapter!

[lazycheesecakeee]

Stray kids as love languages

Ok so I started thinking and that’s never good and somehow this got CHUNKY AF :))) But I hope you enjoy reading my messy thoughts about skz expressing love :)

Bang Chan

Giving: Gifts/Words of affirmation

Yeah SO… we all know how he always seems to always give the closest people to him, like everything, including the moon and a fucking rocket to the moon as well, and build it too, that before he gets anything at all? He is definitely a giver. He buys food, drinks, anything.

Anything you would accomplish, no matter how small would be an excuse for him to go out and buy you a meal and while you are there, if you only happen to glance at something twice, you already have it? Yeah you might feel bad and try to pay or say “stop giving me things all the time” but he would not stop and he would buy you the thing and shower you with praises for how well you did, even if you think it is not such a big deal.

You have a normal day when nothing happened? You go to the store together, he pays. He comes to visit you randomly. On the way he buys a flower and a random chocolate or a drink because he remembers somehow that you said you wanted to try it like 3 months ago. And the list never ends. He has a good sense for what people want too. So if you are close to him he gives you EVERYTHING. Showers of praises and all of his fucking money :)))) BOY HAS NO LIMITS.

Receiving: words of affirmation

Listennnn, as much as he gives and never stops, like NEVER. (Take his credit card away lmaoooo), when you acknowledge his little appreciations and thank him sweetly or give him a hug to let him know you are grateful, he gets immense satisfaction. I feel like he is the one to give but if he feels like he is used in the slightest he definetly cuts the rope short real FUCKING FAST.

I feel like he def is SUCH a sucker for appreciation and words of affirmation AND COMPLIMETS. He wants to feel needed and like his efforts are worth it. And giving him the verbal queue that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, that despite his busy schedule you appreciate the time with him, that his hard work and struggles to be the best are worth it, that the nights in the studio are fruitful and he is doing a good job, THAT would really make his entire day and his anxieties dissipate. Let him know he is wanted. Poor baby someone give him a sleep schedule too and some melatonin :)))))

Lee Know/Minho

Giving: Acts of service

He def strikes as one weird cranky, moody, annoying bitch with his behaviour but if you pay closer attention he is actually so observant and thoughtful/caring. He seems like you would not want to go to him for things but I actually think that if you take the time and grow close to him he is one of the most caring and protective people tbh.

Like it’s in his nature to pay attention to what close ones are doing, their schedules, interests and habits. He is the kind of person to never purposefully say or make a fuss out of doing something but somehow he knows you need something or you want something. And he buys the thing and puts it in the fridge. Or changes the sheets because he feels you are too sad and unmotivated and that would be good. Or buys something definitely because “he wanted it” but gets more, and a side of the thing you like a lot, because “it was there”, definitely not because he thought of you and that it would bring you joy. Or he would like pick a prescription for you or refill your water bottle before leaving or tell you to bring band-aids because you complained those shoes hurt you. Or tell me this boy would not chop the onions for the pasta sauce so you don’t ruin your mascara (I am not sobbing you are).  And he somehow fits himself in and things add up so well and your life is so much easier despite him claiming he „did nothing”.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Although it doesn’t seem like it, something tells me it’s true. I read on an internet thing that people that seem cold and don’t want/seem to have the need for verbal affirmation and validation from strangers get actually more satisfaction from it than people who say it explicitly.

He also def strikes me like he was raised to be tough, to recover fast, to not be a cry baby and just get up and do the job, suck it up, be strong and independent. A little bit of trust issues into the mix as well ☹ You can actually kinda see a sort of anxious behaviour type of thing in him. So I feel like if you actually grow closer to him (ahem Jisung), acknowledging his efforts and how he makes your life easier, THAT would bring out the asshole being like “oh really? Hm interesting you think I do so much for you huh?” but he actually does thooo and you saying it would bring him like so much joy and make his heart happy.

Like each time you give him a compliment TM he would act like “yeah I know” or act disgusted but high key it soothes his spirit and ego when you say such things. He just loooves to hear how much you loved something he cooked or how attractive he was while dancing or how he was really thoughtful, and you appreciate it sm. He seems to have the nature to give, and he seems to expect to go unnoticed but when and if you do acknowledge his heart is actually swooning over it.

Changbin

Giving: Physical touch/Gifts

I think he would be the type to bring weird things to you for no reason along with 1000 kisses and a hug that is a bit too tight you know? Like his mind gets occupied with you if you are close.

And like he saw this weird card at the store or a little figurine or something which has a weird patters and he thought “Hm they must see this. They would like this strange ass thing I bought which was overpriced”. And when he gives you the thing you give like an odd smile and in your eyes is a „love you but wtf is this” and he would take your hands and look down and kiss them and say “I don’t know i thought you might like it?” And you would tease each other and he would start doing ayego and get really shy and just hug you again and place his head in your neck to avoid the eye contact, then lift you up and spin you and from there you have no chances of escaping the embrace TM.

Receiving: Physical touch

I feel like he would be a sucker for physical touch as your love language as well. If you reciprocate hugs, kisses and stuff. You know he seems like the kind to find comfort in holding you for no reason, like a hand on the knee or on your waist and if you two are comfy and give him little pets, stroke his hair, place your hand on his shoulder or biceps or take his hand with both yours or grab his middle randomly, he would swoon. Also you clinging to him and letting him cling to you I think is like thing he wishes for most tbh:) I feel like he feels safety and love by holding onto you and you onto him like he can protect you. He would like to know you trust him with that, ya know? Like he is a strong bitch ready to fight anyone coming at you and can protect you but is also your smol koala child which you can never escape.

Hyunjin

Giving: physical touch

Now this might seem weird to you BUT. He seems like he touches people out of nowhere sometimes and kinda clings. Not like all the time but enough. Like he likes being really close to you if he is close to you, you know?. He would be all up in your face with his weird ass mannerisms and humour but if they are reciprocated and he feels safe and good around you he naturally starts to cling if that makes sense? Like in a way a sort of telling others: “mine, you cannot have them before me” but also in the sense that you know he would do anything for you if you ask in those instances. Like YO, you have me, soul and body next to you, I am here :)))

Like he doesn’t seem like the type to buy things a lot (cheap ass I see you :)))) although he would sometimes) But he makes up by being there and encouraging you despite not knowing how to act or what to say all the time, he lets you know you can count on him and he is there. I feel like his touch expresses appreciation.

Receiving: words of affirmation/quality time

He strikes me as attention demanding lmao:)) OH I am yours pay attention to me I am your baby I require love and affection, undivided.

So if you make time to have lunch with him or have conversations before bed in peace (my dude seems like his thoughts overwhelm him all the time and honestly same :/ it’s kinda yikes tbh), or watch a movie/tv show, or just be in his presence when he is both excited or down, and listen to him rant and give him solutions or rant with him about random subjects and jumping around between them subjects, you would get all the uwus and he would probably be ready to dedicate his entire existence to your well being and desires.

He is just like that, a dramatic ass with overly changing emotions who wants a good connection, like a genuine one, where hours go by and someone truly understands him and things flow, ya know? (seems like the type to believe in fate type of love, which I find interesting)

Han Jisung

Giving: Physical touch/ Words of affirmation

He seems really touchyyyyy TM. But like in the way that shows physical affection because he seems a little insecure? That is kinda what he strikes me as. Like he wants to hold you. He wants to show you have him. He wants to be appreciated :( my child (and bias) help me I am sobbing:))) and he wants to make sure you know he appreciates you just as much.

Like he would hold your hand, hug you a lot or place random kisses and linger in those places? An he would compliment you and tell you your work is amazing and that he is proud and he would make lots of idiotic jokes to cheer you up, no matter the mood (we stan crackhead humour in this household) and he would tell you the most random shit he likes about you. Like “I like your socks” or “you changed your bag” or “the perfume is oddly floral just like your shirt and I like it”.

And he would make random short freestyle raps (kill me now I am in too deep) about you or a random thing you are doing. And he would just linger around you when you are busy and can’t give him attention. He wants to show trust and love through little gestures and trusts you to see them as a sign of his love because you make him happy and all.

Receiving: ALSO Physical touch/words of affirmation idk

I feel like he would like physical touch back? Like he would be fine if you didn’t like it, but like since he is like anxious and (to me) seems like a little overly aware of his “flaws and deficiencies”, he would like to know he has your “hold”. Like some sort of security type of thing.

Like small gestures, your hand on him, a little kiss, a hug, a squish :))), a little grip of reassurance and a nod of “you are doing good”. I think he would be a sucker for that. And also despite him lowkey rejecting your compliments like “yeah I know I am the best”, giving it to him would boost his self-esteem a lot, as I think he has many insecurities and quite a few complexes that are hard to express for him. So that, along with your touch and words to reassure him, he would love and get the idea that you want him close too, that he’s desired enough for you to seek his love, something like “you my dude are seen and loved for who you are”.

Felix

Giving: Giving gifts/Physical touch

He is defiantly a giver. He literally seems like he is so thoughtful and cares so much. Like we all know how his fellow members said he is great at gifts. Well duh. I feel like his gifts are not always big but like a small food or drink he brings because he knows you always love it, a flower he saw in the front of a flower shop he thought was pretty. Something you said you needed (or you didn’t say) but he knows you do need it because he just pays that much attention. A pendant necklace. A ring. A small ice-cream because the day is hot so why not. A donut that had flower sprinkles because you like to post aesthetic foods and so on. You name it. They would not be obnoxious, but it would sure show how much you are occupying his thoughts.

We also always know how he is attached to the hip to the people he is close to and he loves skinship. He said he loves back hugs, hugs, kisses he wants it all:)) So he gives plenty of cuddles for sure. You can never escape the octupus arms as you go to sleep each night, so might as well set up the air conditioning in your house as it’s about to get warm but affection and love above all, right? :)))))))

Receiving: Words of affirmation/Physical touch

I think he thrives if you return his little ministrations of affection. Does it matter? A hug, a kiss, holding him, a little massage, hand size comparison, throwing yourself on top of him on the couch or the bed at the end of the day. He LOVES it. You are also competing with Chan lol but no worries, he has plenty affections for all:))

Also I think he needs reassurance and a sense that people that are closest are proud of what he is doing(wipe your tears bitch). So I think acknowledging his hard work and the fact that he pulls through despite certain mental heath problems and telling him he does an amazing job and complementing his work would definitely mean a lot to him.

But give the boy your affection, A VerY tOucHy BoI. It makes his heart swell with joy knowing you pull him close and feel so much love for him that you don’t hold back from giving. Be an octopus with him tambien😊

Seungmin

Giving: Acts of service

Another one for acts of service. Our smol good boi which somehow does not seem smol at all because he exudes maturity and rationality lmao.

He would be such a servant if he loves you. AND YOU WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE at first. Like I feel like he does stuff in a way similar to Minho where he makes sure your life is as easy as can be. Like puts your shoes out of the way, checks the weather so you don’t leave dressed inappropriately (forces you to take the puffier jacket despite it not going with your outfit, because “do you want to catch a cold, hm?”), gives you an umbrella. Fixes a random necklace which you broke by accident because he knows it will sit there for like 3 years if it’s in your care, and you like the necklace 😊. Makes sure you eat something healthy too(would definitely bring you washed and cut-up fruits after going out to eat at mcdonalds). And he for sure does not expect you to really notice, but if you do he is getting flustered and runs out the room with a big smile😊 what a baby tm.

Receiving: Acts pf service

I feel like he would appreciate most if you also took time out of your day to ease his life too. I feel like he would feel such relief and happiness and his heart would swell with affection and appreciation if you took on one of his (no matter how insignificant) tasks. Like he would be in a rush to leave and you woke up earlier before work to make him a coffee. Or when he comes home late you already put his clothes on the bed and prepared a bath. Or getting up and asking for extra napkins if he was not given any, or simply asking how can you make his day better. I feel like being helpful and listening and paying close attention to him would be what makes him happiest.

I.N./Jeongin:

Giving: Quality time/Gifts

He gets awkward when he tries to express feelings with words and is def not the most fond of skinship. However, I think if you were close he would be an amazing listener and sit with you and you could both share and grow together so much. He would give you the feeling he is ready to listen and be with you if you need him. 

That and also I feel like when you are out and about it makes him feel good to know he can buy you things you can enjoy, and you are appreciative of them and he has that power to brighten your day and be a mature adult by buying you things, despite not really needing them sometimes.

Receiving: Quality time/Words

You know how he struggled a bit with the dancing at first and you know how the other members say that he does nothing when someone criticizes him, he just goes out of his way to fix his “mistakes”? And also in Vlive when he said he doesn’t like to watch his own fancams because all he sees are his mistakes? My baby seems to have a bit (quite some) of an imposter syndrome and since he is young and everyone teases him, although with love, I feel like it gets a bit uncomfortable and tough. He seems he just wants to keep up, and be the best at what he does but it gets tough when you have to catch up with people who have been doing the thing for many more years than you and you are struggling with your feelings and figuring things out as you grow within a demanding contract. So I think someone to listen to his worries and give him undivided attention without judgement and put in their input without being intrusive would be the most amazing thing to him. That, along with compliments and acknowledgement of his efforts, telling him that he is doing GOOD and you are proud (although he might think that you are just saying it, since he seems to only see ways he needs to improve) would be good at raising his self esteem and encourage him to continue with his hard efforts.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

dearest comfy <3 what if Triss was a blacksmith AND Eskel was a blacksmith??? What then?? Enemies to lovers maybe? <3

Ellie. I love you. I love this prompt. And I love Trisskel. This is a triple threat of wonderfulness. Hopefully the fic delivers 💖💖

Warnings: no violence, some hostile Triss (mostly internal), lmao is this considered idiot and exasperated to lovers? idk you tell me, its pretty chill tbh, unless you don’t like daggers. there's lots of daggers. 

_____________________

Triss was furious. 

She had spent her whole life stoking a furnace, shadowing her father, sweating, suffering burn after burn and later cut after searing cut as she learned to forge all sorts of weaponry. Now, this teddy bear-shaped child was setting up shop in her courtyard?! Unacceptable. Unbelievable! She’d staked a claim on her territory for market day early. So early she hadn’t even made her first blade. Her father still had her hammering out decorative discs and fastenings for armor. 

One of her customers had the audacity to call him ‘cute’ to her face.

He was no more than twenty-five, tall and stocky like most people expected of a blacksmith, but they claimed there was a softness about him. Triss remembered that softness well, before loss and responsibility really set in. What others saw as sweet, boyish charm she saw as a weakness. 

She sent her assistant to assess his booth, maybe flirt and ask some questions, and was even more annoyed when they came back. 

“He’s young but he’s not inexperienced. His blades are good. So is his uh… customer service.” 

Triss rolled her eyes, “What kind of weapons was he selling? I don’t care about his looks. I have breasts.”

Her assistant shrugged and described his table. 

That following week she put in double the hours at her workshop, put the extra flourish on every piece, perfected every detail until her arms ached and her head pounded. She often forgot to drink water, let alone eat, when she got worked up, so her assistant brought her meals. 

When the next market day came, she proudly displayed her new wares.

And if she took her hair out of the usual braids and unbuttoned her blouse a bit lower than last week, who would be brave enough to point it out?

This time the newcomer had the gaul to visit her booth. 

“Good morning, Miss Merigold,” he dipped in a bow of respect before she even turned around to greet him, straightening up and disarming her with a lopsided grin, “My apologies, I meant to introduce myself after last week’s market. But you were far more efficient at break-down than I.” 

She wouldn’t have called him cute by a long shot. He was downright handsome.

Then she remembered they were rivals. There would be no fraternizing with the enemy.  

It took her a moment to gather her wits before she responded, “Good morning. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

She knew. 

Of course she knew. But he was far better looking than she had assumed, his scars only adding to his alluring presence, and she needed to feel like she had the upper hand. 

His smile grew a bit sheepish, “Eskel of the Blue Mountains. I’m your new neighbor… sort of,” he offered his hand over her table and she took it, hoping her hesitation wasn’t too obvious. 

“Welcome. I hope the city is treating you well?” 

“Well enough,” he acquiesced, letting go of her hand after a moment, “To be truthful, I haven’t left my forge much at all. I’m still getting used to her. But you know how that goes.” 

Triss raised her eyebrows and plastered an over-polite smile on her face, “I must say I wouldn’t. I inherited my forge from my father. I learned with her. We get along quite well.” 

Eskel was called by someone from his booth as he made to speak. He waved at them to wait a moment and turned back to Triss with a wink, “Well if you have any relationship advice, let me know.”

Before she could think of a polite but not too friendly response, he was gone. 

She turned back to her assistant in a huff, “He’s infuriating.” 

“He’s dreamy.”

“Hush,” she snapped, pointing to her sketch pad, “Hand me that. Call for me if there’s a large sale or a problem.”

She sketched and planned half the day away. But when she realized how much the materials for her plans would cost she adjusted her cleavage and left her tent. Someone had to drive the hard bargain around here, and she knew her assistant was too kind. 

The next week she arrived with a beautiful set of delicate-looking throwing knives, a few different ornate daggers, and a sword fit for a king alongside her typical, practical items. However, she was seeing more than just her flowing hilt designs inlaid with etchings. 

Eskel seemed to have had a similar idea.

She wandered past his booth, pretending to buy fabric from the stall next to him, and fumed. It seemed Eskel had a sharper eye than she’d anticipated. He very clearly mimicked her setup and emphasized the smaller wares like she did. He even had the same sign in three different languages about customizations and bulk orders.

This had become all out war. 

When her sword sold that day she decided to finish off the dozen or so she had laying in wait for specific orders over the week. She even detailed a breastplate to match for three of them, guessing at the size in reference to the sword as best she could. As she worked she mulled over her new competition. His soft golden eyes that crinkled ever so slightly when he smiled were absolutely aggravating. At least that’s what she told herself. It was simply her competitive nature that had her fixating on this mountain of a man. 

She returned the next week with a spread so large she could barely fit it on her table.

Eskel had come back with daggers inlaid with precious stones of dazzling pale blue and sparkling greys and whites. Blue Mountains indeed.

Polite customers started mumbling comparisons to themselves while the brash ones outwardly used the other stall to barter a better price. Every time Eskel was mentioned Triss would bristle, hold back a snarl, and turn on every bit of innocent charm she had. 

She began leaving with a lighter cart and a challenging wink from her competition. Over the week she worked her fingers to the bone over fine details and getting the balance absolutely perfect. 

After months of competition, months of uncomfortable eye contact, she finally broke when he sold a matching helmet, breastplate, and dagger to one of her most loyal customers. 

“Eskel. We need to have a word,” she marched right up to his tent, hands tucked into her half apron at her waist. 

He smirked, “That all?”

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “We can’t keep making the same things.”

“Pretty daggers and ceremonial armor? Why not?” he mimicked her, folding his massive arms over his own chest, leaning back against his table, making him just a little bit taller than Triss rather than the usual towering over her. 

She rolled her eyes and stepped a little closer, “We’ve both done well, or I’m assuming you have, but eventually all the nobility this side of the canal will have been sold to. We’ll have saturated the market and be left with an armory full of ornate weaponry with no one to buy it.”

“Preserving the market means one gets to keep said market.”

Triss nodded but Eskel seemed unimpressed. 

“And how would you suggest we settle who keeps it?” he raised an eyebrow at her and she just wanted to smack the smug look off his face. Or kiss it. She really wasn’t sure anymore. 

She scrambled for a moment, not having entirely thought this through, “A competition.”

He stood to full height and sighed, “What are the terms?”

“One dagger. Same price. Whoever sells first gets the market. The other has to branch out or move.”

Eskel nodded and held his hand out, “Agreed.”

Triss went to take his hand but he gripped her forearm, his whole hand covering much of her elbow. She did her best not to think about how strong his arm felt in her grasp, how when she squeezed she felt a gentle give before she hit muscle. 

He winked at her as he released his grasp and turned back to work, “See you next week Merigold.” 

Triss worked on a single dagger all week. 

She couldn’t get Eskel’s stupid cocky smile or his tanned arms out of her head. The way he looked down at her with that condescending smile enraged her. Her assistant claimed he looked more fond than condescending, but Triss only narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She’d been raised in the marketplace. She knew exactly how men viewed her. 

In the end, her dagger looked very fitting for a man like him. Broad, sturdy, a bit curved at the tip, and simply yet elegantly decorated. She cooled it in a liquid mixture her father had made and kept secret, giving the blade a finish similar to copper, but with all the strength of steel. 

If she noticed the coincidence she stubbornly ignored it. 

Eskel was already set up and waiting when she arrived at the market. She spared him only a curt nod while she set up her booth as if preparing for battle. 

He sauntered over to her before dawn had officially broken, blade in hand with what Triss might guess to be a nervous expression. 

“Good morning, Merigold,” he cleared his throat and set the dagger currently wrapped in cloth on the table between them, “What have you for our little competition?” 

Triss proudly pulled the dagger she had made from her case, handing it over by the hilt as she spoke, “Good morning, Eskel.”

He took the blade and hummed as he inspected it, whispering, “It’s beautiful...”

She wasn’t prepared for such a genuine compliment. Nor was she prepared for how much she loved hearing that word fall from his lips.

“Th-thank you.”

Eskel handed it back before unwrapping his.

Triss almost had to catch her breath. It was gorgeous, gracefully curved, a turquoise stone grip bordered by an ornate handguard. The part that really got her though was the engraving on the blade. She stepped out and around the table to catch more of the sunlight to see what it was and gasped. Little jasmine flowers were etched into the flat of the blade. 

She looked up at him in awe, “Why jasmine?”

He gave her a crooked smile, rubbing the back of his neck, “You, ahm- your perfume. It is jasmine right?” 

She tilted her head and really looked at him since the first time she met him, “You noticed my perfume?”

“It’s nice,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his leather apron pockets. 

Triss thought about all the winks and the ‘good mornings’ and compliments. She’d thought they were just to get her buttered up, but maybe she’d been a little harsher than she needed to.

“It’s stunning,” she breathed, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, not wanting to pull away from his warmth when she had to. 

They were interrupted by her assistant and set a price quickly before scurrying back to their tents. 

All day they would glance toward the other’s booth, but Triss was no longer checking his table. She was looking for him. His kind smile and boisterous laugh. His easy charm and especially his humility under pressure. 

All day she struggled with the realization that she was just a little bit in love with her competition. 

Nearing sundown she told her assistant to begin cleaning up and grabbed her coin purse before marching over to his stand once again. 

“Did you sell it?” Eskel looked disappointed and she was surprised to be glad to tell him no. 

“I have two things to say and I will only say them once, so listen carefully. I realize I’ve been unduly cold to you and I want to apologize. You’ve proven that you’re not only a skilled craftsman but seem to be a good man as well and you don’t deserve it. “

“Apology accepted,” Eskel grinned, leaning back on his table as he waited for her next item.

“Thank you. Now, I’d like to buy the dagger. The one with the jasmines.”

Eskel frowned, “You- you’re forfeiting?”

Triss bit her lip and forced herself to look him in his honey gold eyes, “Yes. Though I hope we can both agree to stay where we are? I think I might miss you if you leave.”

He grinned and pushed off the table, standing just inches from Triss now that he was upright. His hand hesitantly brushed a stray curl out of her eyes as he leaned closer, hesitating to give her time to leave if she wanted, before he brushed his lips against hers. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed. His hands covered her back, pressing her to him and nearly lifting her off her feet. 

When they parted they were gasping for breath they both wished they didn't need.

“What about a trade and a truce?” 

Triss nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to plant another kiss on his lips, “And dinner.”

Eskel chuckled, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.” 

[ussgallifrey]

Jealous

✦ Summary: The little green monster has a way of ruining a perfectly good night, and he is not talking about the Hulk. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Little bit of angst, jealousy ✦ Word Count: 2.4k ✦ Author's Note: This was written ages ago for a request that's now vanished from my ask box from an anon asking for a jealous Bucky.

It's there in the curl of your lashes and the hand that you bat against the Asgardian's arm - that's when the clenching sensation presses down on his throat. When he feels his fingers wrap a little tighter around the shot glass on the bar. The night long since gave way to the pleasant thrum of inebriation, but all Bucky can sense is the bitter taste in his mouth when he watches you laugh so freely across the room.

Another gloating tale of ancient glories, a genuine laugh, a flirtatious quip - Bucky's painfully present for it all.

He had been cowardly perched on this one bar stool for almost the entire evening, trying to find some liquid courage - though he couldn't get drunk, not even close, it was just a bit of a placebo to get the gears going. Meanwhile, you flitted between the others with a carefree ease and an intoxicating smile. Wrapped up in soft pinks and a striking flower in your hair.

Bucky glowers at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

He had watched the way you seemed to flow through the crowd, taking the time to join each circle of people. Laughing unabashedly with Clint and Tony, resting your head on Natalia's shoulder, letting Sam throw a too familiar arm over your shoulders and tug you closer. That one probably stung most of all.

Your laugh seems to rise above the music and the crowd - an arrow sent right towards him, alluringly sweet in its intensity. But it's not for his ears, not happening because of something he said. No, you're wrapped up in the blonde demigod's looming stature and chiseled everything.

Maybe he lingers too long on the shape of your body leaning against the other man's. The styling of your hair, the way your eyes never leave Thor's. And the way the Asgardian's eyes seem to dip below your eye level to wander freely along the lines of your body.

He struggles to swallow the darkness that threatens to rise - the itch in his throat that ices over his heart and makes his blood run cold. It's metallic and chilled and difficult to ignore and he hates himself all the more for letting it take over.

Thor's returning laugh is deep and rich, coated with the finer golds and riches of a royal lineage. Bucky has to steady himself with a hand on the bartop when the blonde ducks down to place a kiss to your cheek, a fitting smile on his face as he excuses himself from your presence.

It's hard to ignore the giddy rush of nerves that seems to creep up as your smile turns bashful, averting your gaze as you press a trepid finger against your cheek. And then you're turning and he's looking down at his drink - trying to ignore the sting and pangs of the little green monster.

"Mr. Barnes," you cheerily greet as you plop down on the neighboring barstool, a manicured hand placed just a breath away from his own much larger hand. 

Pulling his gaze from the gemstones on the end of your nails, Bucky nods in acknowledgment. Not trusting his mouth for anything as his stomach still sloshes and slurs with the sourness of unwarranted jealousy.

That sweet perfume seems to mingle in the air between you, something floral and soft - warm and pink to match your dress and nails. Princess-like, something entirely untouchable and angelic.

"You've been… notably absent tonight," you pester, sipping from your nearly emptied neon-blue cocktail.

"Have I?" he lets his finger drag along the rim of the glass, catching a drop of condensation. 

You hum with a nod, "Been missing you something fierce."

That gains his attention as he finally lifts his head up, trying to read your doe-eyed expression. 

He turns a little more towards you, a knee daring to touch your own but not quite able to close the gap. 

"That so?"

Another hum, followed by another sip. Gaze drawn low to watch the way your fingers wrap around the black straw, lazily gliding up and down as you give a coy smile his way.

There's a distant part of himself - the shadow of a man who used to look like him, but a little more clean-cut - that would know the right things to say. The sweet prose and flirt to get you turning his way, wrapping you around his finger, and never letting go. He'd sure like to get in contact with that version of Bucky Barnes right about now because he's feeling next to hopeless in your presence.

"This isn't really your vibe, is it?"

Vibe? Right, more slang and lingo that sometimes has him stumbling over his own feet and looking like a right fool in front of everyone else.

You seem to catch on to his internal dilemma because you're quick to clarify, "You're not big on parties."

No argument there. He rubs the back of his neck as he fails to avoid your gaze, "Yeah, uh, no. Definitely no."

There's a little cooing sound in return, a batting of long eyelashes as you swirl your tongue around the straw, taking a long final sip of your drink. He could get lost in the action alone, watching your lips pursed together to suck on the straw, cheeks hollowing out - it's hypnotizing and entirely dirty, but he just can't look away.

But then Thor's bellowing laugh carries far across the party to lodge itself directly into Bucky's ears. He can't help but grimace, staring down at the bar in favor of actually groaning his disdain.

But you catch on - of course you do. You follow the pitiful trail of jealousy right up to his seething face like a bloodhound. He must reek of it too because your sweet expression seems to fall in an instant.

"Do you," your fingers stroke along the tip of the straw. "Do you not like Thor?"

He balks at how easily you hit the nail on his head. "Wha - no. I - he's, I mean, I don't really even know the guy, you know?"

There's this look that settles on your face that says you're not buying a line of his bullshit.

"He's sweet."

Bucky taps his glass with an impatient finger. If he has to sit here and listen to you compliment Thor, he might just vomit. Oh, he'll sit and listen alright, but it doesn't mean he has to like it.

"I'm happy for him and Jane," you continue. "Says he plans to stay on Earth for a while, think he couldn't stay away from her any longer."

You're talking, but the words aren't registering the way they should be. It's just an infinite loop of you laughing and Thor kissing your cheek.

"They're a good fit for each other."

Of false images of Thor wrapping his arm around you, dipping you backwards, and kissing you senseless.

"You'd never think they would make a good couple, right? But they totally work in their own way."

How easily you'd be swept off your feet, probably picked up and made to wrap your legs around him. He was probably shirtless at this point because why wouldn't he be? 

"Hey, are you - are you okay? Bucky? Did I say something or...?"

God, why was he so hung up on this? Why couldn't he just work out the nerve to just go up to you and ask you out? It wasn't that hard, right? Just a few words, his heart waiting on the side to be broken, his returning ego to be bruised. 

It's not like he could compete with someone like Thor. The man was literally a God; a legendary being of Norse mythology and epics. Compared to… him. Him with the flashing neon sign above his head that read Fucked.

"Bucky?"

It was probably a fool's hope that you would've been interested in him. He was so many things this side of wrong. Not golden and wonderful like the man you had been laughing with for the past thirty minutes.

There's a hand on his.

Oh.

Slowly, he looks over at you. 

You smile gently. Thumb carefully rubbing over his knuckle in a soothing motion, "You drifted away on me. I - I wasn't sure if…"

The words fade away with a cautious touch. He wants to turn his hand, lace his fingers with yours. It feels right in his mind, he wants it to be right.

A soft silence drapes itself over you both. Your hand remaining on his, fingers lazily rubbing circles over the top of his tense knuckles.

"You know," you say after a moment. "I think I'm ready to get out of here."

You watch his expression with a curious gaze before continuing, "Even I can get partied out, Barnes."

He doesn't want you to leave, enjoying this haven you've created in the corner of the bar with him. It's the lingering hope that burns in his chest that maybe he stands a chance with you. Maybe he can win you over if he ever gets the nerve.

But you don't move to leave, fingers coming to a sudden rest - a breath away from his skin.

"Are you out of here too?"

Is that a twinge of hopefulness in your voice? It's nearly hard to believe, but he latches on to it like a lifeline. Finding himself nodding fast and dumb as he says, "Yeah, yeah. I'm good here."

Your hand runs its way up and over his arm and shoulder, lingering above the collar of his leather jacket. Waiting, he realizes. Waiting for him to join you.

There's a surprising amount of nerves going haywire in his body because his legs seem unusually shaky as he stands from the bar. But you're there, batting those glittery eyes as you wait. Your body manages to press up against his side as you wade through the remaining partiers. Floral perfume wafts up from your exposed neck and he nearly buckles over.

"My lady!" Thor bellows in shock, a stupid grin upon his stupid face as he manages to untangle himself from the group.

He pauses in front of you both, baring Bucky not even the slightest glance.

"Surely you're not leaving so soon."

When did he grab your hands in his large godly ones? Why does Bucky's stomach feel like it's going to make him spew all over the floor now?

Your laugh is easy as you gently pull your hands back, "Even mere mortals like me know when to call it quits, Thor."

And it's only then that the god seems to take in the dark figure you're leaning on, mismatched eyes looking Bucky over with a sudden glint of realization. He backs away almost immediately, "Oh, of course! Another time, then."

It's only when you're walking again that the blonde throws him a playful wink, which makes Bucky feel all sorts of confused.

And the thing is, he's not even entirely sure where you're going and if you expect him to follow you there. He'd like to think that, but he can't be sure. 

The warmth of the party gives way to the misting rain of the darkened city streets. Illuminated only by the neon signs and streetlights. Seeing the contrast to you, wrapped in soft pinks and gentle flowers, only makes Bucky feel all the more aware of his surroundings. But you seem to pay no mind to it whatsoever as you make your way down the sidewalk.

You're tucked against his right side, arm rubbing against the leather of his sleeve, your pink dress fluttering in the gentle breeze of the night. And when a car rushes by on the slick road, it'd be impossible to not notice the way you shiver. When you stop at the crosswalk, Bucky doesn't even think - pulling his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders.

There's a little gasping sound as you pull it tight around you and your eyes are absolutely shimmering in the street light when you look up at him. Bucky can actually feel the moment his heart swells.

"Thank you," it's said so softly, so sweetly. And you finish it by gently squeezing his hand.

He takes a chance, throwing his arm over your shoulder and tugging you close. The contented sigh that falls from your lips makes him know he made the right move.

You pass the walk in pleasant silence, occasionally bumping his hip with your own, a soft laugh when he looks down at you curiously. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where you're headed as the glowing tower comes into view.

You pause at the front entrance - the harsh lights from the lobby illuminate the space behind you, making you glow in the rainy night air. Bucky reluctantly pulls his hand away. Feeling lucky enough to have gotten to walk you home, but not enough to expect anything beyond this point.

But your drawn brows pull his attention as you grab his hand back, "And where do you think you're going?"

He huffs a laugh. Steeling his nerves as he sheepishly looks up at you, "Guess that depends."

You give a thoughtful nod before tugging him flush against you. He gasps, despite his best intentions.

Brushing his hand against your cheek, you give a pleasant little mewl. His heart thumps harshly in his chest as his eyes darken. 

"You know," you murmur against his hand - your hands now resting on his hips - as you pause, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."

Bucky groans softly, feeling the weight of the evening sinking lower in his chest.

"Especially," you continue. "When you could just have what you want."

Your mouth finds the underside of his chin, kissing lightly on his Adam's apple. Manicured nails find their way into his hair, scratching carefully against his scalp and neck. And then you pull back, dark eyes staring up at him with a smirk.

"That is, if you want it, Sergeant."

Soft hands smooth over his arms, down his sides, to his hips once more.

"Do you want it, Bucky?"

His mouth feels dry as he takes in your beautiful features. The way your dress curves your figure, the way his jacket seems to be perfectly made to fit your shoulders. The obvious thrum of passion coursing through him. And just one look into your eyes gives him all the reassurance he needs - there's no competition here, you only have eyes for him.

So, he settles his hands on your hips, fingers splayed out along your lower back.

"Yes," he says hoarsely. "I definitely want."

And then you're angling your head up to meet his lips as you walk the two of you backwards into the tower and out of the misting rain, into something decidedly warmer and better.

Permanent Tag List: @brooklyn-times​​ | @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​ | @diinofayce​ | @eileenalone​ | @jackiec720​ | @juniorhuntersam​ | @lambs-to-the-cosmic-slaughter​ | @majesticavenger​ | @outofmilk​ | @redhairedfeistynerd​ | @s-trawberryv-eins​ | @smilexcaptainx​ | @slowly-drifting-again​ | @weasleyworshipper​ | @ya-lyublu-tebya​

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Want to be added? Send me an ask ❤

[yikesharringrove]

Not sure if you’re still taking prompts but can you maybe write something about Billy and Steve and the 5 love languages please? Thank you!

1. Giving and Receiving Gifts

Steve just stared at the box.

He had found it in his mother’s closet, obviously placed in there by a maid.

His birthday was next week, and his parents were giving him a record player.

The same one they had given him last Christmas.

Steve figures his father’s assistant picked it out. He’s had four since Christmas.

He sighed at the box. Maybe he could sell the record player, maybe he could buy himself something with the money.

He knows he’ll end up giving it to Dustin, or maybe Will.

-

There was a carton of cigarettes on the kitchen table.

Unopened Marlboro reds. Next to a plate of pancakes. Susan’s yearly peace offering.

Billy slid into the table quietly.

“Thank you, Dad.”

Neil just hummed.

2. Physical Touch

Steve sighed as he sank into the crisp sheets.

His parents’ bed was huge, far larger than two people needed.

He had sprayed his mother’s perfume on one of the pillows, curled up in their silk sheets.

If he pretended hard enough, he could imagine being held.

Someone caring for him enough to touch him, run fingers through his hair, pet down his back.

He set up one of the down feather pillows behind him, felt like someone was there.

-

Billy spat into the sink.

His tooth had chipped, but hadn’t come out completely.

His lip was split and he could feel the bruises forming on his back.

He rinsed the blood out of his mouth, cataloging dark fingerprints on his wrist.

He should head to the quarry, be alone for a little bit.

He pushed out of the bathroom, nearly colliding into Max on his way to the door.

She reached for his wrist, the one already marked by another hand.

Billy dodged out of the way, kept going to his car.

3. Acts of Service

“Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency-”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You know I never mind driving him.”

Mrs. Henderson sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. You’re a life saver.”

It was true though, he really didn’t mind driving Dustin around. Gave him something to do. Helping felt good, made him forget about things for a little while.

-

He had only been in Max’s room once before.

It had been to yell at her about stealing his Walkman.

It hadn’t changed since then, still just as cluttered, still as California beachy as before.

He placed the skateboard on the unmade bed.

He noticed her wheels were getting torn up on the shitty roads, installed new ones for her.

It was as close to an apology as he could get.

4. Quality time

Steve’s house was empty.

And he hated it.

No matter how loud he turned on the television, no matter how much music he played, or how many lights he turned on, it was still an empty house, with no one but a sad lonely boy rattling away inside.

-

Billy doesn’t like sitting in silence.

He guesses Susan doesn’t either, as she shakily tries to fill the dinner table with a poor anecdote from her day.

Billy smiles where he should, and eats quickly, but not too wuickly, and compliments Susan’s cooking, and only leaves the table when his father dismisses him.

He retreats to his room, listening to music to drown out whatever game Neil’s watching in the next room.

5. Words of Affirmation

“You’re not stupid.”

Billy’s brows were furrowed.

“Yeah, I am. But it’s okay though I’m-”

“No, you’re not.” He said it with an air of finality. “Your mind just works different. But you’re really smart.” Steve smiled weakly. “I mean it. You’ve got this creative brain, always thinking outside the box. You have a knack for detail other people miss. You’re smart”

It was the first time anyone ever told him that.

Fitting, as he’d had a lot of firsts with Billy already.

-

“You’re not a monster.”

Steve’s voice had an air of authority. His eyes were wide.

“Steve, I, I hurt-I killed so many-”

“You weren’t you, though. You were, were possessed. You couldn’t have stood a chance against that thing.”

“I should’ve fought it sooner.”

“It took all your energy to fight it off. And you did, in the end. You saved us all. You’re not a monster. You’re a hero.” Billy’s nose twitched. “You’re selfless, and brave, and a fucking hero.”

4. Quality Time

Steve’s house wasn’t empty.

And he loved it.

Billy seemed to take up every room, fill the space with snide remarks about the decor in Steve’s house, or laugh loudly at family portraits.

He had put music on in the living room, and turned on lights as he looked through his house.

Steve felt warm, and for once, for fucking once, he didn’t feel lonely.

-

Billy likes the quarry, although he would never say that to another human being.

It’s quiet there, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend the water lapping at the rocky shore is the ocean, that he never left California.

But then he looked to his left, and smiled at the sight.

Steve was always pretty, but something about moonlight made him ethereal.

He was quiet, looking out over the water.

Billy liked that Steve knows when to let the moment sit, when quiet is okay.

3. Acts of Service

“Noticed your breaks were starting to whine, so I changed your break pads. Ended up doing the oil and wiper fluid, too.”

Steve stared at the car.

“You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Good for pt.” Billy’s hands were working much better, he had more articulation these days.

And rebuilding things, fixing things, it made him feel better than any talk session ever had.

It was nice seeing Billy like this, a little closer to his new self.

It made Steve’s stomach flip over.

-

“I finished unpacking your stuff while you were out applying places. I don’t know how you like things organized, so you’ll probably want to redo it I just thought-” Steve was rambling away, all nervous.

“Thanks, Stevie. I appreciate it.” Steve’s face went red.

They had moved into a two-bedroom apartment in the shitty part of town. Billy’s window opened onto a dingy parking lot, while Steve’s showed the gas station below.

“I was just finished, thought I would move your along, too.”

He tamped down the way his gut rolled, the way his heart pounded against his ribs at Steve’s slight flush.

2. Physical Touch

“Do you, uh, do you think I could sleep in here?”

Steve felt like he was going to throw up his heart, hands still shaking from his nightmare.

“‘Course.” Billy’s voice was gruff in the darkness, but he held up the side of his blanket.

Steve slipped underneath it with him.

He was still breathing too fast, stiff as a board on Billy’s bed.

“It’s okay.” And then Billy’s arm was around him, and his back was against a warm, solid chest, and it was all too easy to melt into the touch, maybe let a few tears fall.

Billy was warm, and grounding.

And Steve felt a tiny bit better.

-

Billy tossed himself down onto the couch.

It was two small for how both of them sprawled across it at once, their bodies pressed together.

Steve wiggled his way out from under Billy, leaning against his side, legs tucked up under his hips.

“Long day?”

Billy never replied.

He turned his head to look at Steve, and he was so close, his breath fanning over Billy’s cheeks, dark eyes nearly going cross eyes as they dropped down to look at his lips.

His hair was soft as Billy sank a hand into it, guiding their kiss.

It was a long time coming, the soft brush of their lips.

Steve pressed his body closer to Billy, who let out a desperate whine.

Steve’s hands were soft and warm, one cupping his cheek, one gripping his wrist.

They took shaky breaths after parting, still close enough to feel the other’s breath, neither boy wanting to break their soft little bubble.

They kissed all night.

1. Giving and Receiving Gifts

“Happy birthday, you pain in my ass.”Steve laughed as he accepted the small box from Billy.

“You’re a terror.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to Billy’s cheek.

It was Steve’s first birthday since they moved to California.

He tore open the wrapping paper, tossing the lid of the box onto their bed.

He gasped.

“Bill, this is, thank you.”

It was Billy’s necklace. Steve didn’t even realize he wasn’t wearing it.

“Wanted you to have it. Since you’re my guy, and all that.” His smile was dazzling, lazy and warm.

Steve turned around, placed his palm over the pendant as Billy clasped it for him.

“I love you.” Billy pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, right over the clasp.

“Love you too, Pretty Boy.”

-

“Uh, here.”

Steve’s cheeks were flaming as he pushed the small box into Billy’s hands.

“Happy Birthday.”

Billy just smiled up at him, taking his time with the neat wrapping.

It was a ring, a simple gold band.

“You know, it’s been eight years since we got together. And I know we can’t get married, or whatever, but I thought, we could, we could have this.”

Billy was fucking speechless.

“Sorry, it’s dumb.” Steve reached for the ring, but Billy clutched it to his chest.

“Do you have one too?”

“Yeah. Matching set.”

“Go get it.” Steve looked nervous as he re-entered their living room with a matching gold band.

Billy took it from him. He took his left hand, slowly sliding the ring on his finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Steve barked a laugh, happy and bright. He slid Billy’s ring onto his finger in the same fashion.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Billy’s smile was hurting his cheeks.

“Now with the power invested in me, by the great state of California, and the fact that no one can tell us fuck all, I pronounce us, husband and husband. Now gimme a fuckin’ kiss!”

They both laughed into the kiss, the sun setting outside their apartment, dousing the little makeshift wedding in gold.

[redsandroses]

Strip for me baby

Warnings: smut, name calling, dick slapping(just a little), fingering(female receiving), slight overstimulation

 word count:1388

 Here’s a dancer Hyunjin smut cause he makes me go crazy with every move. I also left you a link to the song I was listening while writing this. Enjoy!! 😈

 You have been going to a dance class where you have this amazing instructor. His name was Hyunjin. He was known as the best one out there. He helped you with every move, every detail and he was the sweetest ever.

 The first days you were there, you always thought you looked like a potato just wiggling around. One day you were in front of the mirror talking to yourself, you said this out loud. Unlucky or maybe lucky for you he heard you and he laughed and as the sweetest person he is he came and comforted you.

 When he hugged you, all the thoughts in your brain went away. All you could focus on was his scent. He smelled amazing, he was wearing your favourite perfume like he knew. When he pulled himself away, you looked at him and realised how stunning he was. He was talking to you but all you could focus on was him -though he was probably again being the best person and giving you compliments-. His hair was messy, he had beautiful brown eyes, really plump lips, and a very sharp jawline. You were surprised you didn’t realise how beautiful he was before. All you could think about was kissing him. Then someone else came into the room and brought you back to real life.

 Since that day you felt an incredibly strong attraction to him. Most of the times in the lessons you focused on him and not your moves. Even though you could do the moves right, you acted like you couldn’t so he would help you. You thought you were being smart but you were wrong. He eventually understood your little acts.

 He didn’t pay attention to you for the next couple of weeks. Whenever you called, he sent you another instructor, whenever you wanted to talk to him, he said he had things to do. And on top of that he started talking to his other students really closely. He would look at you while they were talking and smirk. You knew you had to do something about it.

 So one day when he was leaving, you went to his car and told him you needed to talk. “I don’t think that’s needed y/n” was not the answer you were waiting. But you had to do something about the heat between your legs which has been there for a couple of weeks now, so you got into the car and crossed your arms. “I’m not leaving until we talk Hyunjin.” you said. He sighed and told you to go to his office.

 When you went to his office you were welcomed with his smell. You took a deep breath. “So what was this thing you wanted to talk about y/n?” You jumped right into the topic. “I think you misunderstood some things and I believe that is the reason you have been ignoring me for weeks and I want to fix that.”

 “First of all I think I understood everything clearly y/n. You see, I’m not stupid and I think I have enough experience to see what you are up to. But I just needed to make sure and today you proved me right.” He smirked as he took of his jacket. You could feel yourself blushing, it was getting hot in the room.

 You thought it was a good idea to stop acting since he clearly was not buying it. “I’m sorry I made you work more than you should. I just needed to feel you. I just needed your attention.”

 “Well now you have my full attention. So you better not waste it.” he was talking in a really low voice now. The cute, sweet boy you saw for all these days was long gone. He now looked like he could ruin you.

 “Let’s get rid of the unnecesarry clothing now, shall we?” You loved where this was going. You did as he said, and started taking of your clothes. But he stopped you. You looked at him with a questioning face.

 “If you want to do this, you better do it the way it suits you, you attention whore.” This name calling made you more wet as if it was possible. But you were not sure what he was asking for so you just stood there asking with your eyes.

 “Strip for me baby. 

 You were shocked. you have never done that before. But luckily you have watched others just enough to know the moves. You started with your jacket, taking it off slowly and seductively. You saw him licking his lips. That gave you courage and made you give your all to this. You slowly took your tshirt and pants which left you only with your lacey black underwear. That was the sexiest piece you had, it was like you felt this was going to happen.

 He stopped you when you reached to the back of your bra. “Dance for me a little bit, will you?” You didn’t make him say twice. You put on a show for him as he opened a song for you. You were surprised by how your body was moving naturally. When the song ended, he tapped on his lap, asking you to come to him. You got on all fours, making him wonder what you were doing. As you slowly crawled to him, you saw him palming himself over his sweatpants, mouth part open. “You really are a good slut, aren’t you?”

 When you finally reached him, you got up and sat on his lap, started grinding on him. You felt his hardened cock, it was asking for attention so you palmed him through his pants and started rubbing him. He let out a moan, just the sound of that little moan could make you cum right then and there. You heard him whisper 

 “Harder y/n”

 You put pressure on his dick and when he asked for more, you slapped it. That made him squirm. “You y/n, you are making me crazy.” Then you felt sorry for his cock for being in there all this time so you took it out, rubbing the tip which made him moan louder. He made you get up, he took one last look at your stunning figure then he ripped your underwear. “I can’t take this teasing anymore. On all fours right now. Get that ass up for your me.” You were a good girl so you did what he asked. He slapped your ass making you whimper.

 He inserted two fingers in you. “Look how wet my baby is for me.” You felt your high was coming when he sped up his pace. When he started licking you, you lost it. Just when you reached your climax, he took out his fingers making you pout and cry out cause of the emptiness. Then he flipped you over and inserted himself in you without any warning. “Everything- has time kitten, I- want you to-cum on my- dick.” he said as he thrusted in you. He was fucking you with an inhuman pace now. With his flexible hips he could hit all the spots you never knew you had.

 “Hyunjin please I need to cum, please harder”

 “Hold it baby I’m close.”

 Then with a few more harsh thrusts you came, wetting his dick all over, your legs shaking. He thrusted in you a couple of times as he chased his own release, making you overstimulate like crazy. You were nearly crying, the pleasure was too much to handle. You heard his grunts as he took himself out and came on you.

 You took his cum with your fingers and licked it all clean.

 “Good girl, cleaning our mess.”

 You finally got what you wanted and even more. He helped you get up and get dressed, leaving your ripped underwear on the floor. He winked at you “I owe you one now. Let me get a new pair which I can rip off of you as soon as I see you next time.” You just smiled at him.

 “See you tomorrow teacher I’m looking forward to our next “talking” session.”

[acnelli]

A Favourite

My entry for Ron’s Chessboard Fest 2021.

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Rating: T

Summary: Ron discovers a group chat that is discussing just how handsome he actually is.

Thanks to TheUltimateUndesirable for organising the Fest.

This prompt had been submitted by @accio-broom​ who also happened to be the beta for this story. Your help and suggestions are always so much appreciated!

@accio-broom​ got inspired by this post by @headcanonsandmore​. So, thank you for the lovely idea! I wanted to write this ever since I saw this post and prompt 39 fit the bill perfectly.

You can also read this story on AO3 & FFN.

“Where are you guys meeting tonight?” Hermione asked as she and Harry cleared the table while Ron and Ginny set up the cleaning charms. 

“George’s place this time,” Ron answered and swooped up some foam of the soapy dishwater to smear it across Hermione’s cheek. 

Sometime after the war, the Weasley siblings established the tradition to meet up once a month. Just the six of them going out for a pint or simply getting pissed at one of their places. This resulted in another kind of meet up, consisting of the Weasley siblings’ significant others. Tonight, they would play a French card game which Fleur insisted on being a lot of fun. The rest of them simply agreed because most of the time, they ended up just talking and drinking anyway. 

Playfully swatting Ron’s hand away, Hermione cleaned her face with a tea towel, placing it neatly back on the designated hook. Kreacher liked the kitchen to be spotless, and letting them cook for themselves every now and then at all had already been a huge compromise from Kreacher’s side. So, they always made sure to clean up after themselves; otherwise, Kreacher would immediately take over all kitchen duties again. 

Ginny sat down on Harry’s lap when all the plates and cutlery were taken care of and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. She lifted Harry’s left arm to check the time on the gold watch the Weasley’s gifted him years ago. 

“Ron, we should’ve left already.”

“Gin, you know every single Weasley is a notorious latecomer. Except for Percy, maybe. George will probably be not even out of the shower when we arrive,” Ron reasoned as he rummaged through the fridge for the sixpack of Muggle beer he bought to bring to George, “or taking a shite.”

While Ginny and Harry snickered, nodding their heads in agreement, Hermione just sighed and rolled her eyes. At some point, she gave up berating Ron about his foul mouth. It was a lost cause, and while she would never admit it out loud, she would definitely miss it if he suddenly stopped cursing. Mainly because over the years, Hermione gathered some exclusive knowledge about what to do for Ron to bring forth a particular choice of swear words.

Ron hardly censored himself, except when Teddy, Victoire and Molly were in the room. Not only would Mrs Weasley twist Ron’s ear off, Hermione definitely drew the line when children were present. She could’ve also lived without the image of George sitting on the toilet. 

They heard the fireplace roar to life, and a few moments later, Audrey came into the kitchen, dressed in grey tracksuit bottoms, white trainers and an oversized blue shirt that sure enough belonged to Percy. Her outfit clashed with the fancy bottle of wine she held in her left hand. 

Hermione looked at Ron, who she had to talk out of wearing his trackies tonight, and into a pair of nicely fitting jeans instead, along with one of his old Cannon shirts. He lifted an eyebrow at her when he saw Audrey’s casual clothes, but Hermione ignored it. 

Audrey sat down with a heavy sigh. “I knew I’m too early. Why am I dating someone so over-punctual?”

“You’re not because Gin and I are leaving now.” Ron laughed as he gave Audrey a quick hug before kissing Hermione and wishing them a fun night. “Don’t do what I wouldn’t do.”

“I think we’re fine then,” Harry commented from behind Ron, where Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out of the kitchen. 

As Ron turned around, Hermione pinched his arse, not ashamed to cop a feel as she gave him an innocent smile, and he rewarded her with his trademark lopsided grin. “Is this why you wanted me to wear these tight jeans? So, you could properly feel me up?” He asked as he leaned down to give Hermione another kiss.

“ROOON!” Ginny cried from the living room before he could properly snog his girlfriend again. He sighed and gave her a quick peck on the mouth instead.

“Actually, I wanted you to wear them so I can ogle you from behind.” She whispered before he went out of earshot. Ron didn’t turn around, but he gave his hips an extra swing before vanishing out of the kitchen. 

“God, that was gross,” Audrey commented but winked at Hermione anyway, “How can you stand that every day, Harry?” 

Harry was just about to give her an answer when they heard several people arriving via floo, and he settled for just rolling his eyes instead. 

Accompanied by a cloud of some very nice smelling perfume, Fleur glided into the kitchen and right behind her appeared a tall, blonde man Hermione and Harry never met before. This had to be Charlie’s new boyfriend. Ron and Ginny met him last Sunday over at the Burrow when both Harry and Hermione stayed at home since they still had been recovering from a rather nasty case of the flu. 

Fleur took Finn –as he introduced himself in a thick Swedish accent– directly with her from the Burrow where she put Victoire to bed and where Molly and Arthur happily watched over their first grandchild. Harry was secretly happy to finally have another guy in their round again. Not that he minded the company of Hermione, Fleur, Angelina and Audrey. Actually, he always enjoyed their monthly gatherings, but it was nice to not be the only rooster in the yard.

“I’m here, I’m here! I just wanted to stop by the store to grab some more Butterbeer.” Angelina said and put the bottles on the kitchen table. As always, they had a good variety of booze to choose from; Angelina’s Butterbeer, wine from both Fleur and Audrey, the Firewhiskey Harry bought yesterday, and some Cider Hermione picked up from her way home from work. It was way too much already, of course, but that didn’t stop Kreacher from making so much elf wine that they’ll probably never had to buy alcohol ever again. 

As Hermione and Harry added some glasses and snacks, Audrey observed the table with a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands in childish glee, grabbed a bottle of wine and started to fill Hermione’s wine glass. 

“Fleur, explain that card game to us.”

 *****

Ron was annoyed. 

Because his dear brother was utter rubbish at calculating what would be the appropriate amount of booze for six people, they ran out of beer and whiskey after not even two hours. Due to his bad luck at rock paper scissors, he ended up going back to Grimmauld Place to get them some more beer and one or two bottles of Kreacher’s wine.

The moment he walked through the fireplace, loud shrieks and booming laughter sounded over from the kitchen. Ron planned to just quickly walk into the kitchen, taking what they needed out of the fridge and go back to George’s place. He stopped in his tracks as the conversation filtered through to the living room because he didn’t want his presence to be known just yet.  

“…okay, okay, Hermione. Don’t look at me like that. I complimented your choice in men. Ron is a stilig karl.” Finn said, his booming voice carrying easily over to the living room. Ron didn’t know what stilig karl meant, but from what context he was able to overhear, Finn might’ve just said something nice about him. 

As silently as possible, he stepped out into the hallway where he could hear the conversation better but would remain undetected by the occupants of the kitchen. 

“I personally like his jawline, especially when he lets it go stubbly. It’s…,” Audrey snipped her fingers, “very tempting to touch sometimes. Remember Sunday afternoon after lunch? I kind of had to restrict myself from starring at his jaw when he listened to the Cannons game on the radio. Such determination.”

Ron was sure he was glowing in the dark as he felt the blush creeping up his neck, his face no doubt looking like a tomato. He expected many things, but he certainly didn’t expect to run into this kind of conversation. 

“What does Percy have to say about you lusting over his brother?” Hermione asked, and Ron had to stop himself from bursting out into a laugh because he could practically see her narrowing her eyes. 

“Oh, Hermione, don’t be such a prude. There is nothing wrong with admiring somebody else than your own partner. It eez only natural.”

Ron could not hear Hermione clear enough, but he thought he could hear her muttering something like ‘I’m not a prude.’ 

“Does somebody else has a favourite part of Ron they want to elaborate on? Or can we finally start the next round of cards?” Again, the red-head tried his hardest not to laugh when everyone just ignored Hermione’s sarcasm and, indeed, continued elaborating on the topic.

“His arse!” Angelina offered. From the way she was dragging the ‘s’ a little, he could tell she was already slightly tipsy. “Ron has a very nice bum. Do you guys train your arses in these weekly training sessions at work, Harry?”

Of course, this brought forth another wave of hysterical laughter, which only intensified when Finn told Harry to keep him in mind for these arse workouts. “Maybe I’ll learn something.”

When Angelina recovered from her giggling fit, she declared to Harry she too wants to sign up for that training then added, “But Ron had a nice arse before Auror training anyway.”

“And when did you notice that may I ask?”

“Hermione, it’s almost impossible to play Quidditch and not have a nice arse. Sitting on a broom for hours is no picnic for those muscles,” Angelina answered, unfazed by Hermione’s haughty undertone while Audrey let out something between a snort and laugh, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit. 

“Don’t you agree, Hermione?” Angie asked innocently as she clapped the still coughing Audrey on the back. 

All the ruckus must have summoned Crooshanks because the ginger cat ran towards Ron. He quickly picked him up and started to scratch him behind the ear, successfully stopping him from running inside the kitchen and surely disrupting the conversation inside. And a shame this would be, considering Ron really wanted to hear his girlfriend’s answer.

“I certainly agree,” Hermione said calmly, “Ron hated his hand-me-down jeans, but I always had been very fond of them. Especially, their tendency to hug him in all the right places.”

So much for these new tight jeans, she talked him into buying, Ron thought, not being able to stop the huge grin splitting his face. Running into this conversation certainly was a pleasant coincidence. 

Apparently, the others didn’t expect Hermione to answer so smoothly because a chorus of approving whistles startled Crookshanks, and Ron almost dropped him when the cat clawed at his arm. 

“So, you guys are mostly fond of his arse,” Finn mused, taking a quick swig of his beer, “which is understandable but did you ever notice his shoulders? Ron has the best kind of build; slim waist and broad shoulders without looking burly. Please don’t tell Charlie I said that.”

“Tall and handsome, just like my Bill,” Fleur agreed, Hermione giving an annoyed groan that did nothing to stop the French witch from elaborating, “but I say, Ron’s arms and hands are ze best thing about him. Of course, I hate he got zis scars in ze first place, but I think zey accentuate his arms and big hands rather nicely.”

“Well, Fleur. That surprises no one, I think.” Harry said, joining the conversation for the first time since Ron listened in. 

“Don’t even encourage this, Harry,” Hermione whined, “How could find it not weird we lust over your best friend?” 

Ron knew full well that Harry would tease Hermione, and probably him too, forever about this, so Harry’s next words weren’t too surprising. 

“Well, actually…if I would play for the other team,” Harry obviously made a point to make a meaningful pause here, and Ron really, really wished he could see Hermione’s face right now, “…I mean, if we approach this in a logical manner…I have a thing for red-heads after all.”

The next outburst of laughter, surely about Hermione’s expression, sent Crookshanks in a frenzy for real now, and the bloody cat let out a loud wail and wriggled out of Ron’s arms, scratching the side of Ron’s neck before jumping down over his shoulder. 

If not for Crookshanks loud entrance into the kitchen (why he would bolt towards the noise that scared him was beyond Ron’s understanding), Ron’s colourful cursing tipped off the others about his presence. 

Well aware he had been caught, Ron followed Hermione’s cat into the kitchen, red-eared and shyly waving at everyone. “Hello…”

Before he could offer some kind of explanation, a furiously blushing Hermione jumped up from her seat, bolted towards Ron and without another word, took his hand and dragged him off towards the stairs. “Make sure to take good care of this new scratch on his neck, Hermione!” Audrey shouted after them, accompanied by the other’s laughter. 

With a loud bang, their bedroom door shut, and Hermione immediately pressed Ron against it, showering him with kisses and roaming hands. Slightly puzzled but equally enthusiastic, Ron took Hermione’s face into his hands, deepening the kiss and enjoying the feeling of her body pressed up against his. As they finally came up for air, Hermione nudged him towards their bed, but Ron didn’t move from his place by the door. 

“Hermione, you know they just said that to take the mickey, right?” Ron grinned at her and gave her a wink, “Riling you up is apparently not just my favourite past time.”

“You think they only said that to rile me up?” Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow as she took his hand and resumed her mission to get him into the direction of the bed. “

This time he complied, Hermione lying down onto the soft mattress and tugging on Ron’s belt, making him fall right on top of her. “Of course, you would think that,” Hermione whispered. 

“Think what?”

“That the others just said that to rile me up.” Hermione answered, her hands slowly roaming up and down Ron’s back, “I don’t get possessive over nothing, you know.”

“If…you…say…so,” Ron murmured between the kisses he placed on her neck. He paused his trail towards that special place behind Hermione’s ear to look at her with an awfully smug smile. “I did not plan to wear them again, but I’ll gladly dig those old jeans out of the wardrobe. You know, for the sake of making you happy…and also probably Angelina.”

“Shut up and charm the door!” she said as Hermione let her hands wander over his jeans-clad arse, silently marvelling about its firmness. 

As her hands and mouth wandered over his shoulders, his arms and his scars, and as his hands cupped her face and his blue eyes looked down at her with an expression that always spoke directly to her heart, she decided that every part of Ron was her favourite part.  

[lu-undy]

Request #6

" sniper and spy or Lucien and Mundy going record shopping" 

Here it is!

“May I turn the radio off?”

“Don’t like a bit of music?”

Spy blew his cigarette smoke away. He extended his hand through the window such that he could shake the ashes off outside of the van. They flew down and landed on the asphalt before the gush of air trailing behind the van made them spiral and dispersed them into the desert.

“Sniper, this might be the hundredth time that we hear this preposterous noise that you dare call music.”

Sniper chuckled. 

“Such a posh snob, you are.” They exchanged a gaze and a conniving smile. “I love you, you bastard.”

“Well, I shall take the ‘I love you’ and give you back the ‘bastard’ if you don’t mind.” He answered with a smug grin.

“Right, y’know what?”

“Pray tell.”

“I’m drivin’ us to the city, right?”

“Unless you changed your mind, and I would rather not as my stock of cigarettes is depleting at great speed - I wonder why…”

“Are you sayin’ it’s my fault?”

“Well, who else is helping themselves to my cigarette case, hm?”

“Don’t know, you tell me!” Sniper answered. “Whoever that is, he’s gettin’ a bit too close to you for my taste, eh.”

“Is he?” Spy raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, he bloody is.” Sniper slid a hand away from the steering wheel and on his lover’s thigh. “Gotta let him know that no one else but me can get a cig’ from you like that, eh? Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Well, I think you have come to a conclusion by yourself, mon loup.”

[my wolf]

“Did I?”

“You said it yourself, no one else but you can take a cigarette from me, no one else but you can slide a hand to my breast pocket without losing a wrist. So it is indeed, you.” 

“You got proof?”

“Better than that.” Spy answered and Sniper turned to look him in the eye. “I have you.” 

He put his gloved hand on top of the Aussie’s, on his thigh and their eyes lingered on each other for a second.

“But please, pray tell me what your idea was.” Spy asked.

“We could go and buy some tunes.” Sniper said Spy’s eyebrows jumped. “You can buy your classical music or whatever a fancy arse like you likes, and I’ll get some proper nice music.”

Spy’s smug grin grew.

“Fine, I shall take up the challenge, on one condition.” He raised his index finger and turned to look Sniper in the eye. The Aussie moved his eyes from the road to his lover’s. “You admit that you like my ‘fancy arse’.”

Sniper smiled and chuckled.

“Spook…”

“Come on, don’t cower away.”

“Me? A coward? Nah.” Sniper chuckled.

“Then say it.” Spy insisted. “How hard can it be, hm?”

“Fuck you, Spook.”

“Do it yourself.”

“You askin’?”

“You heard me, and you won’t make me repeat it.” The Frenchman smiled.

Both chuckled.

“Right, let’s get yer cigs and then, off to a record shop, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

[Alright.]

When they reached the city, Sniper parked. 

“Go ahead, I’ll wait for you here.”

“Fine.”

The van’s door opened, passenger's side, and a black, varnished, Italian shoe landed on the grey, concrete sidewalk with a soft click of the heel. Spy exited and turned to Sniper as he fluidly closed the button of his jacket. He winked at the Aussie who shook his head, while rolling his eyes. Spy nonetheless noticed the blush on his lover’s cheeks through the window. He turned his back and let his hips sway. He knew Sniper was watching...

Spy entered the nearby shop and bought more of his beloved menthol cigarettes - imported straight from France, mind you - before returning to the van.

“Got your stuff?”

“I thought that we clearly established and proved that it was yours as much as it was mine.” Spy said and put the cardboard bag on the floor next to his crossed legs.

“Yeah, well… Also, it should be illegal to walk the way you do when you are like you are…”

“Stalker.” Spy answered.

“It’s part of my job to follow my targets, eh?”

“Am I a target?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“How high is the bounty over my head, then, chasseur sauvage?”

[wild hunter]

“Not high enough, should be definitely higher. Bloke like you? Hard to find, and even harder to catch.” Sniper answered and Spy turned to him with pink upper cheeks.

“Merci.”

“Welcome, gorgeous. Now, where’s that record shop… I swear it’s somewhere in this street… Ah! There it is.”

Sniper parked again.

“Right, so what do we say, one disc each?”

“That sounds reasonable. But let us make it a bit more interesting than that, shall we?” The devil with the malicious smirk suggested.

“Alright, I’m listenin’.”

“You will have to find a song that you think I will appreciate and I will do the same for you.”

“How the hell am I supposed to guess your taste?” Sniper asked.

“Use this…” Spy poked his lover’s forehead. “And this.” He poked his chest, where his heart was. “And with a bit of luck, you should find something.”

“Spook, I-I don’t know, I mean…”

“Come on, you know me better than anyone else for thousands of miles around. I am sure you will find something.” Spy winked at his lover and exited the van. Sniper followed him and both entered the shop.

Both headed in different directions. Sniper’s first guess was classical music. He took disc after disc, but the German, Italian and French names didn’t mean anything to him. And what was that habit of putting numbers on the pieces couldn’t they give them proper names…? He sighed and decided to walk around instead, until something would catch his eye. 

Sniper put his hands in his pockets and took step after step, travelling through countries and centuries, styles and genres, while only crossing the aisles of that record shop. Suddenly, a familiar smell tickled his nostrils. He blinked repeatedly and looked around him.

“Spook, quit followin’ me while bein’ invisible. That’s cheatin’.” He gently said at the air in front of him and out of a cloud of thin smoke, the man in the mask and suit appeared. 

“What gave me away?”

“Your awfully expensive perfume.”

“Ah, I will thus have to blame the man who complimented me for it a few weeks ago. It completely ruined this tailing operation.” He smiled and raised his arctic blue eyes to the Aussie. “I see you haven’t found your happiness yet.” He said looking at his empty hands.

“I have, ‘m lookin’ at it.” Sniper answered with a smile on his lips. Spy chuckled and lowered his head before brushing his eyebrow with his thumb to ease the blush away.

“You know that was not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know. But still.”

“Merci. I shall go and pay for the disc I have found for you. Take your time, I will be waiting for you in the van.”

“Here, the keys.”

“As if I needed them.” Spy headed away and Sniper rolled his eyes. Those damn slim hips...

Later that day, Sniper convinced Spy to spend the evening in his van and after some negotiation, both were sitting on the bench, Spy leaning on Sniper, feeling the weight of the Aussie's arm on his shoulders. They had the lights off, apart from Sniper's night lamp.

"You wanna hear what I got for you?"

"Please." Spy asked and raised his irresistible eyes to Sniper. 

"Look at you, gorgeous you are, absolutely gorgeous." He kissed his lover's brow. "Right, let me put this record player on the table… Plug it in and... pop the disc on. Right, you ready?" 

"Please." Spy nodded. 

"Here we go for the song I've found for you." Sniper pressed a button and sat next to his lover. It took a few seconds before the music resounded. 

"Oh…" Spy raised his head to Sniper. He had recognised the intro with the trumpets, the wind instruments and the typical ballad rhythm. "La Vie en Rose?" He asked. 

"Yeah." 

Edith Piaf started singing and Spy bit his lip, snuggling closer to his lover and curling up against his chest. 

"Y'like that song?" 

Spy nodded his head and Sniper pulled him closer, gently rocking him in rhythm. 

"It is… one of my favourite songs, if not my favourite, I…" 

Sniper looked down. Spy had his face flat against his chest. 

"Hey, tell me." The Aussie cupped his cheek.

"Why did you pick this one?" A muffled voice asked. 

"Cause it's about the only French song I know, and it's bloody beautiful, just like you." 

"Do you know what the lyrics mean?" 

"Nah. Somethin' about love I guess." 

Spy raised his head and his gloved hand to Sniper's cheek. He cupped it and gently whispered. 

"When he holds me in his arms, when he whispers to me, I see life in pink… And as soon as I catch a glimpse of him, then I feel in me my heart is starting to beat." 

"Well, it's not wrong." 

Spy smiled as the song ended.

"Your turn now, love. Put on your song for me." 

Spy didn't move. 

"Spook…? C'mere, I know what you need." Sniper cupped his lover's face with both hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. It washed Spy to his guts and he felt like a new man when Sniper withdrew. "You alright?"

Spy's eyebrows were arched high up and he was giving a look Sniper had never seen yet. 

"Oui." He slightly nodded. "I shall show you the song I found for you now… Merci."

Sniper gave him a peck on the brow before letting him proceed. The Frenchman put the disc on and resumed his seat. 

The masterful jingle of the piano keys rose from the record player and soon a voice. A voice? No, the voice. The maestro himself, Sinatra.

"How do you keep the music playing?

How do you make it last?

How do you keep the song from fading too fast?"

The rest of the orchestra slowly woke up behind the elegant singer. 

"How do you lose yourself to someone?

And never lose your way?

How do you not run out of new things to say?"

Sniper looked for Spy's hand in the dark and when he found it, he laced his fingers through the Frenchman's. But soon Spy removed it and cupped Sniper's face. 

Gosh, he had removed his gloves, Sniper felt the naked touch of Spy's hands on his cheeks, his temples and through his hair above his ears. He pulled Sniper's face down, at his eye-level and their foreheads now touched. Spy frowned and shut his eyes as the drums woke up and powerfully pushed the rest of the orchestra to play more confidently. Sinatra's voice boomed.

"And oh! The way I feel for you is now or never!

The more I love, the more that I'm afraid,

That in your eyes I may not see forever!"

Sniper blushed to his ears that he felt were burning. He gulped down his dry throat and his lips parted to call for more air. His breath was short, fast, and sharp and he felt Spy's fingers claw on his head, through his hair. 

So that was the choice of Spy? A song named "How do you keep the music playing?", was it a question that he was really asking his lover? Was there more than just a song in this? 

When Sinatra finished and the orchestra waved goodbye, silence fell in the van and Sniper suddenly realised how loud Spy and him were breathing. 

"Je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. He looked down and saw Spy's eyes shining, glistening even… 

"Love you too, c'mere." 

The hug they shared lasted until they became tired of their posture on the bench and moved to the bed. They fell asleep as they usually did, a mess of intertwined limbs. 

[cumbercookiebatchs]

About Marianne helping R get a gift for Enjolras.

Going out didn't take much convincing on her Papa's behalf. For all he knew, Marianne was going out with Amel-Louise, Marianne's best friend since they started maternale all those years ago.

While it was simple, Marianne shoot a quick text to her friend, explaining the plan, in case anything unplanned went down. Marianne knew her Papa trusted her, but that didn't stop him from unexpectedly calling Amel-Louise's maman to either pick her up early or make sure everything was going smoothly.

At 10 AM sharp that Saturday, Marianne was buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the doorbell to ring. She had to calm down before she met Grantaire, she still had a reputation to protect, but imagining her Papa opening the gift and being delighted, had her pretty much excited.

"Wow, eager much?" Her Papa looked up from his book, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked good, as he always had, but he now had a distinctive glow that appeared after Grantaire came into their lives. Marianne will always be grateful to him for that.

She smirked. "You can have home for yourself. Clean. Read. Call Grantaire..."

Enjolras bit his lip and Marianne dared to say he was even blushing. "He's busy today, had to do some grading."

Marianne barked a laugh, so that's the magnificent lie her teacher came with to avoid meeting with her Papa. The action earned her a raised eyebrow.

"What's so funny, my dear?"

It was not that lying to her Papa was something easy --it wasn't-- but she also wasn't lying completely. "It's just I never thought he would turn down coming home to have sex with you."

"Marianne!"

"It's true, you're home alone, what better chances are?"

Her Papa was blushing as red as the jumper he was wearing, and huffed in annoyance. "Out."

Marianne gasped in mocked offense, "Now you want me to go? You were just complaining I wanted to leave!"

"That was before you were mean!" He pouted, and Marianne wondered if her Papa was really the adult in this scenario.

Her phone beeped with a notification, from Amel-Louise,she would take Marianne to the mall where she'd meet Grantaire to avoid suspicion. "Amel is here." She said before hugging her Papa tightly. "Love you Papa."

"Love you more, little bug." He smiled and kissed her hair. Marianne smiled and waved her Papa goodbye before she got into Amel's Maman's car.

As soon as she closed the door, Amel and her Maman asked some questions and gave some suggestions. Marianne sighed happily she and her Papa had so many people who loved them.

...

After eating lunch and visiting something like ten stores, Grantaire and Marianne parted for the first time in the afternoon. He went around some interesting stores and while browsing, something caught his eye: Marianne was eyeing a white dress with little flowers embroided all along.

"You like it?"

Marianne almost hissed. "You scared me."

Grantaire tilted his head. "I'm sorry, but you didn't answer my question."

"We're here to buy something for Papa."

He did his best to not start laughing. "So avoiding questions runs in the family, huh?"

Marianne looked at him with the same desdain Enjolras would when Grantaire said something that made him angry. He couldn't help the little upward twich his lips made, he wondered if these mannerisms were Enjolras' and Marianne took them on, or if it was the other way around.

"Go try it on."

"But-"

"Go try the dress on Marianne. Or I'll tell your Papa we're here."

He wouldn't do that, and Marianne knew but still she took the dress and tried to look annoyed, even though her eyes smiled thankfully.

She went out the fitting room some minutes after. "You look beautiful." Grantaire smiled, and Marianne blushed slightly.

"Thanks, but I think I'll need this is a bigger size." She motioned at how tightly it fit her, and the skirt was way too short.

"Sure," Grantaire called at one of the girls who worked at the store. "Can we get that dress in a bigger size?

Marianne went back into the fitting room and emerged with her jeans and shirt, the dress im her hands. "You don't need to do this."

"I know," Grantaire hugged her. "but I want to."

The retail worker came back with the dress and smiled at the scene. "Can I say you guys are the cutest father and daughter I've seen."

Grantaire answered by hugging Marianne tighter until she laughed. "Thanks" he said, but if it was for the dress or the compliment, he never said.

...

It was close to six now, and Grantaire decided to treat Marianne for one last thing. They were putting in the car the bags and boxes --of which one had Grantaire's gift for Enjolras, one Marianne's dress, other Marianne's gift for her father, and a smaller box with a more private gift Grantaire would give to his lover; Marianne eyed him weird, but didn't say anything about it-- and as they made their way towards Amel's house, Grantaire made a detour.

"You're not expected home until late, right?"

"Right." Marianne looked up from her phone. "Why?"

"I want to take you to a place."

More silence.

"The lady at the store. She thought you were my dad. Why didn't you correct her?" Marianne said when they stopped at a red light.

"Didn't seem important." Grantaire answered. "Why didn't you correct her?"

Marianne smiled. "I didn't mind being called your daughter."

Grantaire cried a little after he got home, but at the moment, he smiled too.

Even it was raining, they got rather quickly to the Musain, and Grantaire smile grew wider and they approached and he spotted some familiar faces.

He parked the car, and rushed to help Marianne out of the car, then ran together until they reached the Café's door.

Inside, sitting in a table near a window, a man loudly greeted Grantaire.

"And who's the lady?" Asked the man, he was bald and had an big smile.

"I'm Marianne."

She heard someone gasp behind her. Whem she turned around, another man, but with a cane, and a woman with curly hair where there.

"You are Marianne?" He asked.

"Yes." Marianne said, confused.

The woman laughed. "Oh dear, by the way R talks about you I was expecting a baby! Not this lady!"

Marianne blushed, "thanks."

They all sat in the table near the window, and talked. Musichetta told her about how Grantaire doesn't shut up when talking about her or her Papa, and Joly and Bossuet asked her questions about school and what are her plans for the future.

Soon, a waiter came with some milkshakes Musichetta ordered before Grantaire and Marianne arrived.

"Oh my God," she gasped as she took another sip from her milkshake. "Oh my sweet God! You need to bring Papa here."

Grantaire chuckled. "Yeah?"

Marianne nodded as she drank. "He loves candy, sweets, everything. And vanilla milkshakes, with lots of sprinkles."

"Rookie mistake," Joly mentioned.

"What?"

"Now that you mentioned that, everytime someone's drinking a vanilla milkshake Grantaire will sigh with longing because 'that's Enjolras favorite milkshake'"

"Not true." Grantaire tried to salvage his pride, but everyone was already laughing.

"Do you need me to remind you the time that–"

"Oh when we went to the beach and you–"

"Or when you stalked his instagram a week ago–"

"I get it!" Grantaire snaps. "Jesus."

And then everyone started laughing again.

...

"Papa?" Marianne called, closing the front door.

"I'm here," he answered, Marianne walked down the hall and got into her Papa's room. He was sitting cross legged in the bed, reading glasses still on, but he was now in pj's. He looked up from his book and opened his arms. "Come here."

Marianne obliged, kicking out her shoes and climbing on the bed to hug her Papa. She nuzzled in his chest and closed her eyes. He too sighed happily, and kissed her hair. But then he kissed again, and tensed. He sat back and buried his nose on the crook of his daughter's neck, to smell her blouse.

"Papa! You're smelling me?"

"Where were you today, Marianne?" He looked his daughter in the eye.

"At the mall, with Amel."

Enjolras frowned. "You smell weird."

"We tried on different perfumes, some cologne too."

That seemed to call him down, and Marianne smiled tightly. "I'll go leave my things in my room, wanna watch a movie after?"

Her Papa nodded, and Marianne stepped in the shower. When she got out, ready to pick out some cheesy rom com her Papa seemed to love, she went into his room.

He was asleep.

Taking his book and glasses aside, Marianne took the blanket, and covered him.

"Goodnight Papa." She whispered and kissed his forehead.

Yet before turning off the lights, she took her phone and opened the messages app.

Hey

I bet he's dreaming about you :P

Marianne snapped a picture of her sleeping father and hit send, and went to bed.

Grantaire checked the messages, and bit his lip. Sure, he was in love in Enjolras, but he also loved Marianne more each passing day.

(Bonus points if you guess what Enjolras gift is)

Oh this is so sweet! So sweet!!!!!!

But I don't know what Enjolras's present is 🙈🙈🙈🙈

PLEASE TELL ME 🥺🥺🥺

Marianne and Grantaire are SO CUTE together

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club II

A/N: Let the tension begin to build 😈This part is a little shorter than the others but it’s a necessary step - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, and tender moments

word count: 3.5k

Harry was confused on all levels. Y/N was in his brain like a damn worm and didn’t seem to ever be coming out of it. That was the most frustrating part. It had been about a week, his second bakery visit being short and sweet with another hug and asking for 2 more lemon squares, but he had been a bit bland with texting back. He was trying to distance himself. Not fall for the good girl next door act. 

“Harry, please at least make this believable tonight. I’ve seen a few tweets talking about you going to the bakery so someone must have been a fan in there, so make sure tonight you’re a gentleman to her. People are watching.” Jeff Warned. It wasn’t like Harry sat around and complained about her. He barely said a word. He did tell Jeff he didn’t trust her, but he had restricted any social media usage because he knew the moment he found Y/N’s pages he would stalk her for a while. He would need to make sure it didn’t happen. 

They were sharing a car to the restaurant, and everyone knew the secret so when they pulled up to Y/N’s place, Harry felt a little more relaxed. Jeff would take over until showtime at the restaurant. There would be paparazzi by the time they left, but going in would be far easier.

Y/N was nervous to say the least. This would be her first time being photographed officially with Harry, holding hands and everything. It was a big deal and she wanted to look nice. She had done her whole routine, showering and smelling nice, doing a light makeup that she saw all his past girlfriends do, and changed into her outfit. She felt sexy but still fashionable, definitely not too expensive. Just the right amount of everything. 

When she got the text saying the car was there, she knew it was game time. Y/N made sure to bring her keys, her phone, and wallet, putting it all in a small fashionable blue over the shoulder bag before walking to the elevator and making her way out to the car. 

“Hey.” Y/N smiled as she opened the door, climbing into the car and buckling up. God he looked delicious. His hair was all floppy, his outfit matching hers in a strange way. The two of them together looked good, she couldn’t lie. “You look nice.” She said once again, but she really did mean it. “Smell nice too.”

They both sat in the back seat, Jeff and his wife in the front. Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Uh, thanks. You too.” He went back to his phone. Honestly, if he didn’t? He would have died. Honest to god died. Her tits looked immaculate. Harry hadn’t seen them like this before but he was nearly choking on the way he wanted to bury his face between them. The first he had dated weren’t really all that big in that department— nothing wrong with that. But she had the perfect amount. Perfect handfuls. Something he was positive would be lovely to suck on. Fuck— fucking hell. 

He had to look at his phone or he would get hard. Y/N smelled good too. Like coconuts, vanilla. He wasn’t sure if that was a perfume or a bakery thing but he enjoyed it thoroughly. They kind of matched, too. which was weird. They hadn’t discussed it. 

Y/N sighed a little, not really knowing what she was expecting considering they were in private. She would rather spend no time with him in private if this was the case. She went all out to look nice for him to just say, ‘you too’? God this would be hard. 

“Hi Jeff, hi Glenne, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke sweetly, “I’d give you a hug, but you know.” She chuckled and sat back, trying to ignore the fact that Harry was ignoring her. What a terrible fake boyfriend he was, really wasn’t into the whole method acting thing. 

“Hey!” Jeff greeted. “Are you ready for the first pap run?”

“You sound so cheery about it.” Y/N laughed, “I guess I’m ready.” She shrugged and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I reckon dinner will be fun, bit more excited about that. Get to chat with you all a little more.” It was the honest truth. She wanted to spend some quality time with Harry and with Jeff and his wife. If she was going to spend a full year knowing them? Hell, she wanted to make the most of it. She didn’t just want to fake being friends with them.

Was she serious? Harry thought. Come on. That wasn’t real. There was no way she actually thought they would buy that excuse. She didn’t give a fuck. No way. But of course— both of them bought into it. It was like Harry was the only one who could see that this was sketchy. That it wasn’t what was right. She was too sweet for her own good and that alone had Harry very, very suspicious. He listened to them chatter and took glances at her every so often. This would be torture for him. The whole thing. He was so physically attracted to her that he was worried that it may show when they weren't supposed to be acting. Y/N seemed to get along with them great. It was another thing that made him want to pull his hair out. She had to be bad in some way. No one was genuinely this nice and sweet without having a bad side. Gorgeous or not.

Jeff and Glenne were genuinely nice people, and Y/N was thankful that at least they were being open. Then again, Jeff was Harry’s best friend, then surely there was just something wrong with her. It had been a few days since they met and Harry wasn’t letting up no matter what she did. It would be a slow burn she assumed. She looked over at him, catching him already looking at her with a small smile. Y/N turned her attention back to the front of the car, watching as Jeff pulled up to the restaurant. 

It was go time. Y/N walked out of the car after Harry, moving her hand to hold on to his bicep as they walked towards the restaurant. She didn’t really have a method to her acting, she simply did whatever felt natural. Let herself go whenever they were out in public.

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He could tell she was nervous, and regardless he didn’t want her to be nervous here and feel upset. Especially when they’d be looked at and photographed. 

When they walked into the place, he looped an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. He felt a small hand on his jacket lapel and let her play with it as Jeff took care of the reservation arrangements. They’d been sat outside at a nice place with those bulb string lights, lots of plants. They’d be sat facing people so photos could be taken— but the people wouldn’t know that. He’d have to keep a good face this whole time. It was going to be a new challenge but part of him was giddy to be able to play it up and touch her during this time.

Y/N’s nerves weren’t really that noticeable, but to anyone else it would just seem like she was nervous because she was on a date with Harry. It was a normal reason to be nervous and frankly, she felt it made her seem more relatable. Despite the fact that Harry and Y/N were acting, they seemed to flow quite naturally and easily off of one another. It didn’t take a lot of effort, she just leaned into him whenever he touched her and vice versa.

“Ooo this is nice.” Y/N commented on the look of the place. She had obviously never been here before, but it looked like it would be good. The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible as well. “Thank you again for inviting us out..” Y/N said to Jeff, purposefully saying us instead of me so anyone who heard knew they meant Y/N and Harry as a pair. She scooted her chair a little closer to Harry, making sure there was enough space for them to have subtle touches if need be. Y/N wasn’t sure what Harry would want, but she wanted to have their options open and ready. She had never seen him actually interact with a woman like this except for when he was with Kendall and those photos leaked. She wondered how he would act when he meant for people to see.

Harry felt the pressure but also knew he was lucky Jeff was here to keep the conversation going. He was feeling a little awkward but fell into his conversation relatively easily. 

“So the bakery... Harry said it’s lovely. That the lemon squares are amazing.” Glenne broke the ice, opening up her menu. It was a midrange pricing so he was hoping that she wouldn’t freak too bad. Money really wasn’t an object to Harry. Granted, most of his clothes were gifted to him and he didn’t pay for much luxury items because they were sent for promotion, but he didn’t mind spending if it was for a good time. He had millions. 

“They are very good. I like them a lot. All of the things are great, though.” Harry complimented sincerely but she wouldn’t know that. His arm hung over the back of her chair, subtly showing ownership. that’s what it would come across as anyways. Most people wouldn’t know this about Harry but he was possessive, jealous, and pathetic when it came to his lovers. He didn’t like sharing. He loved being alone with them and being in their own worlds. He hadn’t had a perfect fantasy of that yet but he figured he may as well get out his affectionate wants when it was supposed to be shown. Pass it off as acting.

Y/N smiled brightly when her bakery was mentioned, her pride and joy. She was just about to speak when he complimented her baking even more. That was cute. Too bad it was all acting. She needed to get out of that mind frame though and really sink into the character. She’d deal with her emotions at a later time. 

“That’s sweet, thank you.” Y/N smiled over at him, setting her hand on his thigh and rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his pants. “But yeah, my sister opened it up 5 years ago and I co-own. We have a solid flow of customers. It’s really fun, we’ve been saving to get it refurbished.” Y/N explained, also looking down at the menu. She quickly decided on the grilled miso salmon and carried on speaking. “I want to buy the upstairs bit as well. Want to open it up to local musicians to have gigs there and stuff. Also possibly wanted to do a kids baking class. Lots of ideas.” Y/N smiled, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. She was really ambitious and career driven, always wanting to improve. It was something she took pride in and hopefully Harry would come to admire about her.

Harry was impressed. She had ideas and they didn’t seem to involve being famous, so to speak. She seemed to want her bakery to do well but anyone who had a business desires it to thrive.

“That’s a lovely idea, pet.” His hand took purchase on her shoulder then. It was bare, jacket off so he ran his thumb over the softness of her skin there. Absolutely delicious. Y/N had to know that she was fucking gorgeous. That she had inspired many a man’s fantasies. He could see down her shirt slightly and had to adjust slightly, knowing he would get a stiffy if he continued. Harry was watching for any telltale signs she was lying but from what he could tell, she really did want to do that to her bakery. And that was pretty admirable. 

It took a second for Y/N to relax into Harry’s touch, not having expected it. The feeling of his rough calloused fingers caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy. She could only imagine how good they would feel on her clit— fuck she had to stop. 

“Lots of musicians in the town would thrive off of it. A little bit of exposure and a place to play goes miles for people who aren’t very hopeful.” Jeff confirmed. “You’ll have to ask Harry for opinions when you do that. He’s good at that stuff— the stage design.”

Y/N hummed in response, “I’m sure Harry could come up with some brilliant ideas, always does.” She complimented, sending him a small wink just to keep the ball rolling. It was nice to be able to flirt and know that it was meant to be reciprocated. Maybe this whole acting thing wouldn’t be too bad? She could just live out her fantasies like this. 

The waiter came and brought over a bottle of wine for the table and took all of their orders. Though the restaurant was mid range, she still had a feeling that this was a place posh people went. She’d have to get used to that as well. Y/N felt too normal for places like this, but then again, Jeff was really good at making her feel comfortable.

To Harry, the dinner was weird. Not in a bad way. But he had found that their chairs had gotten closer during the meal. They’d touched each other a bit— not sexually. Or trying to be sexual, he should say. He had been living out part of a mental fantasy, letting her hold his hand and play with his rings when they waited for the food to come. Y/N hadn’t gone for the most expensive thing— rather a cheaper item and he had tried coaxing her into getting something a bit more, but she said no. It was weird that she was acting like money didn’t motivate her. Isn’t that why she took the damn job? But they’d been touching subtly and talking, Harry smiling down at her pretty little face. He had an urge to kiss her too— which had scared the fuck out of him. He wanted to swoop in and taste her gloss before it went away but he couldn’t. When they finished though, Harry looked at her and began to talk. 

“Listen— May get intense, yeah? Lots of cameras flashing. Just hold on to my hand and don’t let go.” He was serious. There were a lot of cameras and a lot of flashes and he didn’t want her to freak.

This part did make Y/N nervous. The cameras. She had seen pap videos previously and they always made her uncomfortable to watch. It was scary having people say things to you whilst bright cameras were flashing. 

“Okay, I trust you.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, giving him a small smile that really was only meant for him. Part of her didn’t want this night to be over, she wanted to hang out with him some more and chat with him. It was her day off tomorrow so she didn’t mind staying up late and going home if that’s what he wanted. She doubted he would want her to stay the night.

Harry held her hand and as soon as they stepped out, the cameras flashed like crazy. Asking Harry to look at them, to say who his girl was. Who she was. How old she was, what’s her name. Were they dating? But Harry got irritated when he felt her move behind him, seeing someone had pushed her slightly and she had stumbled. He stopped in the middle, gently grabbing her hip and pulling her to walk with him. 

“Be careful, mate.” Harry said to the pap, brows furrowed. “Alright, love?” Y/N looked flustered, but nodded. So he continued on, lifting her by her waist and putting her in the car before climbing in behind her. Genuine concern took over when he saw her breathing heavier, face knitted in concern as he gently pulled her over and let her hide her face in his neck. His glare was actually visible to the outside where people took photos through the windows before Jeff sped off. “Hey.. Y/N? You okay?” Harry spoke, pulling her back.

The experience was something Y/N couldn’t explain. As a person who had mild anxiety, she thought that she could handle a situation like that but it was intense in a way that she truly didn’t know what to explain to anyone. You really just had to experience it to know. When she was pushed it really sent her into a small panic, trying her best to hide her face a little now that she’d felt what paps could really be like. Harry came through though and genuinely helped her. She was so thankful for him and for him sticking up for her as well. It meant a lot. It went by so quickly she could barely process it, a bit shaky and out of breath. Going off instinct she nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and relax. It was over, she had jumped the first hurdle and things would get easier from there. At least that’s what she told herself. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay... that was just.. a lot.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, still close to him but she wasn’t sure if that was okay. Y/N decided that it would be more hurtful if he moved her off than if she moved herself, but she really couldn’t do that right now. “I’ll be okay, just need a second..”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed her back a few times. He wasn’t a complete asshole. She was obviously shaken and he couldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t sure why so many had popped up— he was positive they’d only called for 3 but, that’s a later question. “You’re alright? Yeah? Shit’s scary sometimes but you made it through.” He didn’t know why he slightly melted but seeing her in genuine fear and feeling her shake slightly against his body made his urge to protect her come right to the front. “Jeff, drive around for a bit, yeah? Pop into Waitrose and get her a drink.” He could tell that she was going to be okay but needed a little coddling. He continued to rub her back and let her hide in his neck. Her breath was hot against his neck, and he felt her start to calm down.When Jeff came back, Harry gave her the drink and gently peeled her away, letting her stay seated close to him. “Slow sips. Just relax. You did great.”

Y/N kept herself nuzzled into the crook of his neck while she waited, finding that to be the safest place on earth. She relaxed just by taking in his scent and feeling his heart beat through the pressure point that beat against where her nose was. That combined with his hand on her back was doing the trick. This wasn’t acting and she knew it wasn’t. It gave her hope that he wasn’t in fact a shit person, he was concerned and cared enough to ask Jeff to drive around some more and get her a drink. She really did appreciate it and him. 

“Thank you.” Y/N said quietly, taking the bottle into her still slightly shaky hands and took a small sip before taking another slow one. Y/N did do great, she knew she did. She had seen enough pap videos to know how to elegantly carry herself, but there were way too many paps there. She’d never seen that many. Maybe people were just that excited to see Harry have a girlfriend.

Harry knew later on he wouldn’t regret being kind to her right now. She was genuinely terrified and he didn’t want that for anyone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want fame, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. Maybe he could be nicer. But he had to keep a distance because his cock was not on board with that. It wanted to bury itself in her plump little ass. But whatever— he could use that visual later. 

“You’re alright, Y/N.” Harry watched her carefully. “Didn’t know that many were going to be out there but, don’t worry. We’ll make sure we do our very best so that doesn’t happen again.” She wouldn’t get away from paps— but having 20 flashing cameras blinding her and pushing? That wouldn’t ever happen again. He was willing to risk his career on that. No human decency. 

“Now, let's get you home.”

--------------------------------------

[part 3]

A/N: H is soft, he cracks under pressure 🤧- n + d

let us know what you think! 

masterlist

[snowlily95]

Happy 13th Anniversary to CC and why CC is not a lazy copy to OG

Let me tell you why CC or Zerith in particular, is not a lazy copy to a certain couple like how a certain fandom been trying to push to all FF7 fandom.

1. OG C/erith is copying even before Zerith existed.

It had always been the intention of the devs to make Aerith initially only attracted to Cloud because he reminds her of her ex. It doesn’t matter who her ex is, Cloud is just like her ex. Later on, they created Zack to solve Cloud’s mystery AND be Aerith’s ex. Whether she grows to be genuinely attracted to Cloud, later on, is up to the players so I don’t really care about that. If you wanna ship them together, be my guest. I love Cloud and Aerith so it’s really fine. But their first meeting? The buster sword? The first date payment? Since years and years ago, it had already been C/erith is the one ‘stealing’ from Zerith even before CC existed. Stealing is their word, not mine. Of course, when I said this, I didn’t mean OG downright copying CC. I mean that Aerith will always see Zack in Cloud. Which part? We don’t know yet in OG, but it’s already canon that it’s not Cloud’s personality. We knew Zack's personality was different since Zack's creation. They had decided it’s the way they meet and they hold the copyright so they have the right to it.

2. C/erith is Aerith trying to re-enact Zerith.

Zack is NOT Aerith’s ex. She didn’t have closure. She loved Zack for 2 years, waited for him for 5 years, she loved him for a total of 7 years before she felt she should move on, look forward not backward. In OG, she told Cloud Zack suddenly disappeared 5 years ago. And if you go to Gongaga, his parents said Zack sent a letter to them telling them he had a girlfriend 6-7 years ago. So even in OG, their relationship spans across more than a year. And even when she finally decided to move forward, what did she do? She’s hurt too much she tried to recreate what she had with Zack. Oh look, a SOLDIER with a buster sword just fell down the sky like Zack. Let’s see if he’d agree to a one-date payment like Zack before. Notice that Aerith only pursued Cloud when he fell down her roof, like Zack. She wasn't persistent when she met him while selling flowers. Aerith tried SO hard just to get herself a Zack. She’s hurt, and it’s clear she’s still deeply in love and harboring hope for Zack so I can understand why she did that. She wants Zack, she’ll take whatever she can get.

3. The interaction after they meet is different.

You know, I played OG before CC. And didn't like how Cloud can be really cold to Aerith. Granted, in OG, you can pick, but the bad choice is seriously bad. You don’t let a guy say cold things to you and treat you like you’re a bother (even in Remake, “just my luck”, “I’m not cut out for this crap”, etc) and still want to date him. But when Cloud gets himself back and mystery revealed, I understand Aerith’s pain for wanting Zack no matter how she can get. Nomura said CC is a defense for Aerith coz he wanna clear up the notion of Aerith is too desperate in OG. And he’s right. Aerith is a lonely character. She grew up not only alone but experimented. Then she meets a boy who, not only didn’t care that she’s a Cetra but also brightens her day, make her happy and fall in love and treats her like a princess, literally would do anything for her—and then she lost him brutally, not knowing how or why or maybe when. This is something C/erith doesn’t have. You know, anyone can meet people the same way. And you know what’s the difference? Their interactions after they meet. Cloud was repulsive, Zack was interested. Zack gave her everything. Cloud was just wanting to show her he’s cool. Literally, any girl would do it doesn’t even matter if it’s not Aerith, Aerith just happens to be there, as his tool to show his cool SOLDIER side, like “see, I’m a cool SOLDIER”. Zack doesn’t care if he’s not a SOLDIER in Aerith’s eyes. Aerith hated SOLDIER when they met. But Aerith didn’t care, because she loved him. Falling down the roof is not romantic, the interaction after that is.

4. Zerith is so much more than falling down the roof.

If Zerith is just a lazy copy, there wouldn’t be all the sweet stuff that follows. What’s sweet in CC is not that Zack met Aerith the same way Cloud did. What’s sweet is that Zack called her an angel when he fell down. Zack willingly asked her for a date, and she willingly suggested going to the park. They’re mutual. What’s sweet is that Zack bought her a pink ribbon because he paid attention to Aerith and he knows Aerith wanted the ribbon and offers to buy and she accepted. No one is forced to buy, and Aerith is not forced to accept the gift. He asked her to wear pink and she willingly did. What’s sweet is that Zack, with no external factor at all, complimented her flowers, suggested her sell them, and even helped her to sell them once. Zack built her a wagon coz she wanted it and literally would do it all over again until she’s satisfied. He even got her perfume. What’s sweet is that Aerith keeps calling Zack in the middle of his mission, and he keeps answering her calls even when he’s busy. He gave her his time and attention. And what’s even sweeter is that, despite denying it, Aerith waited for him for 5 years, written to him 89 letters coz he’s not answering her calls anymore. None of these are in C/erith. The only copied ones are the falling from the roof and the one-date payment, which is only there coz Aerith wanted to have what she had with Zack again. But it didn’t work, because Cloud is not Zack and it’s okay. Aerith needs to know she’s not getting Zack again and that’s what she needs to learn from this hard loss.

5. The final result is still C/erith copying Zerith.

Now here’s the thing. FF7 is fictional. It’s not real. All the stories about what they initially planned—the Ancient is supposed to be Tifa, Sephiroth is supposed to be Aerith’s ex, Aerith and Sephiroth supposed to be siblings, Zack is the last installment of the series, etc. Those are just interesting stories about how their journey is before coming up with the final result, the entire FF7 Compilation. But none of those planning matters in canon, because at the end of the day, the story is just like that. Cloud met Aerith the way that reminded Aerith to Zack. That’s it. Simple. No copying whatsoever. And they hold the copyright, taking your own team’s work to flash out is in no way, shape, or form copying. I’m a writer myself—fiction and academic writer myself. I also have stories about how things are supposed to be planned differently before I came up with the final result. But those are just interesting stories about how I come out with that final idea. At the end of the day, the most important thing is the final result telling us that way. And get this, when writing OG, the devs were thinking about what can link Cloud and Aerith together so that they can connect at the first meeting. And guess what’s their original idea? It’s that; Cloud reminds Aerith of her ex. Who’s this ex is not even decided yet. But that's basically their basic connection. Without this ex, neither of these two would even look at each other twice. If you found a potential suitor, you don’t blab about your ex. You talk about yourself and about your suitor. You get to know each other, create chemistry between you, but no. Aerith keeps on talking about Zack. She literally slaps an ex on the very beginning of a potential suitor, and that’s literally their connection—even before CC.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you shouldn’t slap this Zerith copying C/erith insult to Zerith fans. Because you know what, we care about the real characters. We care about Cloud, so we don’t want him to get uncomfortable getting pushed and forced into a date. We care about Aerith so we don’t want her to be treated coldly on a date or relationship coz she deserves to have someone like Zack. And all of it evidenced since before CC, and literally, none of the retcon parts of CC (coz CC did retcon some other things) ever alter that. Yes, Aerith can gradually move on, but Zerith is canon since before CC.

CC is a great game. You already know the ending, and you should have been ready for the ending. But you’re not. You knew but you fell in love with this guy destined to die. The mechanic is different than how abrupt Aerith died in OG. Aerith’s death was unexpected. Zack’s was expected but you just can’t. And that’s why it gave a whole new meaning to OG. None of it is copied, in fact, it only gives a new insight into what we already know.

So Happy 13th Anniversary to one of the FF7 Compilation installments: Crisis Core. The game that made us love OG even more. The game gave us more reasons to understand Cloud, to understand Aerith, and even to understand Sephiroth. Thumbs up to the devs, despite all the shortcomings of game control and what not in CC. 13 years and still going strong, still making people cry.

Mic drop. 🎤

[candyandlollipops]

The Avatar of Lust's Princess (5)

Pairing: Asmodeus x Sarah (OC)

Warnings: OOC moments

One year passed since Sarah's last husband died. Still, time has yet to heal all the wounds Sarah has in her heart and emotions.

Ever since she smelled the scent of Asmodeus' on her bloodied wedding dress, Sarah felt nothing but betrayal and, disappointment.

She's not angry, just disappointed.

For her, she knew Asmodeus like a friend she never had. A companion, and a brotherly-like figure as well.

And of course, they share the same interests in fashion.

Sarah will never forget Asmodeus complimenting the ribbons in her dress being bought by her mother since her 16th birthday. Asmodeus even said that it fits her dress color, and she liked it.

But ever since she kindly refused Asmodeus' love confession to her, everything went south.

A minute later, Sarah went to the woods, in an effort to meet Asmodeus in which she hoped this will be the last time.

And as always, Asmodeus did appear from the dark of the woods.

Unlike her once-joyful state of seeing him everyday, Sarah, still fresh with tears, looked away from him.

Asmodeus, still having that friendly smile on his face, hugs her.

"Sarah, dear," he sweetly smiled, pretending to know nothing about what happened. "It's so nice to see you again. What's wrong?"

But Sarah would only pull him softly away from her, shaking her head.

"I know what you just did," she sadly responded. "You were behind the killings of my husbands. I knew because of the smell of the perfume you left on my dress that one night."

This made Asmodeus stare at her with shock.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," he lied. "I just met you this time right now."

However, Sarah wouldn't buy any of it.

"Asmo," she said softly. "I know you love me more than just a friend. And I know you made it to the point where no other sane entity would do. And I understand that."

Asmodeus stared at her with silence, and so did Sarah after she spoke about it.

Before Sarah would leave, Asmodeus finally spoke up.

"Sarah?"

She glances behind him.

"Are you angry at me?" was all Asmodeus could say, his heart about to break.

Sarah sighed, as she slowly approached him.

"Asmodeus, I'm not angry at you to be honest," she replied, touching his face. "I'm just... disappointed. Disappointed about what you did."

The demon could only show a sad smile on his face, as Sarah began to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"This is out of my proof that I, your friend, will never be angry at you," Sarah continued. "I wish I could love you more than just a friend. But my feelings just says otherwise. And this will be the last time I will see you. Goodbye."

Then she left slowly from the woods.

Asmodeus could only look at her, his hand in the cheek where she kissed him, his eyes in a tinge of sadness.

Sure, that kiss wasn't something he would expected nor would have wanted. He could have expected her to kiss him right into the lips and make out with passion like there is no tomorrow.

Sure, he could do that but, he respected her. Asmodeus respected Sarah's boundaries and limits, and in his experience, he knew Sarah...is way different than any other woman or man he is with. She is...quite different.

+++

A few months passed.

Soon, Asmodeus sneaked a peek on Sarah's house, only to see someone along with her.

As the lustful demon observed, this guy doesn't act like any of Sarah's past dead husbands. This guy just looks...different.

Unlike the other seven husbands, this guy seemed to comfort and hug Sarah closely instead of flexing her in front of everyone. And, much to Asmodeus' jealousy, Sarah seemed to like this guy's company as well.

And just as expected, the wedding between Sarah and the new guy---the eighth and supposedly the final husband---has began a week later.

Quickly, Asmodeus followed them, only to be warded off by a disgusting smell coming from the shared couple's room.

As he glanced them for the last time, he saw Sarah's eyes, seemingly looking at him while hugging her now-surviving husband, causing the demon of lust to leave at the dark outside.

Although Asmodeus knew Sarah is being gentle both inside and out, he finally understood that her eyes are now begging for him to stop. To give up.

It may hurt for Asmodeus, but this time he acknowledged that she will never love him the way he expected.

Just then, Asmodeus felt a strong, dark, familiar aura behind him.

He turned around, only to see his elder brother Lucifer.

He seems to be pissed off.

"Oh, now I see why," he crossed his arms, his face painted with disappointment. "All because of that worthless human, isn't it?"

(To be continued, but I promise that one will be the last...)