#he’d be a COMPLETE romantic w you i just know it !! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

distantdarlings · 4 months ago

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ANY FEELINGS // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* As Theo plucks up the courage to ask you out on a date, you soothe your repressed feelings for the boy by filling your nights with other men.

+ WARNINGS - Mentions of smut! (But no actual). Sexual descriptions, language, gender-neutral reader, conflict between Cormac and Theo, very brief description of a fight (non-graphic), kissing, kissing w/o consent, not proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Consume - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Dude, you're gonna have to grow some balls at some point…”

“Shut the fuck up, man!”

Theo laid a slap to the back of one of his best mate’s heads. Enzo was a great friend, but he tended to be a bit too judgmental when it came to you.

Theo had had some sort of feelings for you since he first met you, but whether they were platonic or romantic or…something else, he wasn’t sure.

Enzo seemed to be completely confident that Theo’s feelings for you—whatever they may be categorized as—could be chalked up to one thing only: love.

Every time Theo heard Enzo pleading with him to just ask you out or grab your hand while he was walking next to you, he lost more patience. The boy sitting next to him was stupid, but sometimes he wondered if he should even be permitted to attend Hogwarts.

“I don’t know, man,” Mattheo piped up. “Maybe Enzo’s right…you seem pretty into them every time we all hang out.” The dark boy diagonal from Theo shrugged his shoulders.

“How would either of you know how I’m feeling?” Theo asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you fucking gawk at them everytime they’re around—I mean, you’re practically fucking drooling,” Enzo said, pursing his lips.

“Whatever, I am not.”

“‘Not,’” Enzo mouthed to Mattheo, making air quotes with his fingers.

Theo clenched his jaw and shoved the boy over, before getting to his feet.

The three of them had been sitting next to the Black Lake during dinner, hoping to get away from some of the noisy chatter in the Great Hall.

“Look, just try it out,” Mattheo suggested, squinting against the sun. “Think about it tonight—”

“When you’re alone in bed and about to rub one out!” Enzo cut Mattheo off. Theo glared down at him in disgust. Just before he could react to what the boy had said, Mattheo smacked Enzo on the back of the head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Mattheo started back. “I meant to mull it over as you’re about to fall asleep tonight. That’s generally when I can get the most thinking done. It’s quiet and nonjudgmental.”

He glared over at Enzo.

“Alright, then,” Theo sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “I guess I will.”

Once the three of them had separated and gone their own ways, Theo decided to make a change to his evening plans.

He had originally planned on following Mattheo down to the Three Broomsticks for a mug of Butterbeer, but—upon the dark-haired boy’s suggestion of staying in—he decided to head back into the castle.

He’d have a bit of a shower then take an early night so he could think about what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do about you.

It wasn’t just the constant pressure from Enzo to ask you out that had you circling around his thoughts. He didn’t need the badgering from his friends to think about you.

Theo thought of you all the time anyway, with little being prioritized over you. The confusing nature of the feelings came from the fact that his thoughts of you were so often varied.

One minute, he’d be thinking of your laugh—the way you tilted your head back, eyes clenched, with mouth wide, smile glistening. Next, he’d be imagining you naked above him, begging for him to give you more.

It’d been this way forever. He wanted you in more ways than one, but just one of those ways would ruin every other.

If Theo admitted that he wanted to be the last face you saw every night and the first you saw every morning, and you rejected him, he’d never heal from it. He needed you too much in any way to let something get in the way of that.

So he’d held back for years and years, until, apparently, he’d started to become a little too obvious. At least, enough so that Mattheo and Enzo had noticed.

Now, with the support—and borderline bullying—from them, he was feeling confident. Like he could actually ask you to be his.

Still, he hesitated.

He made his way through the castle, counting the sconces on the wall and running through example admissions he could give you. If he were to tell you how he felt, he couldn’t fuck it up.

You deserved the best of him, if you even deserved him at all. Theo wasn’t much compared to you, but everything he felt for you was genuine and that wasn’t something that was so easy to explain to Mattheo and Enzo, assholes as they were.

He stopped before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, mumbled the password, and made his way through, hardly straying from his imaginary conversations.

Distractedly, he headed upstairs and prepared himself a shower.

Mattheo said he thought the best while laying in bed, but Theo wondered if the shower might be a better alternative for him. He worried that he might not ever get to sleep if he let all of his thoughts pool into one part of his day.

So, he shed his clothes, pulled the water as hot as it would go and stepped beneath the boiling rain.

Between the steam and the warmth, he could’ve fallen asleep, but the thoughts of telling you how he felt kept him wired enough to focus.

There were a thousand possibilities swirling through his head, trying to guide him in the right direction.

He weighed a couple options back and forth, trying to let imagined scenarios play out with each, but no matter what he said or did, it always ended with him embarrassing himself, you hating him, or him accidentally setting something on fire. Never mind that last option—there was a brief consideration of fireworks.

He let the water run across his shoulders and slip down his chest. He applied a bit of hair oils to his hands, letting the personal concoction he’d whipped up settle in his palm. He’d always had pretty dry hair but it tended to get a bit oily during this time of year, leading him to switch over to a different product—or, rather, a combination of products.

He lathered the oils in his hair and closed his eyes.

The massage his fingers applied to his head was just relaxing enough to keep his mind occupied for a second. He didn’t stop thinking of you—he never did—but he was allowed a few moments’ peace. He accepted the nurturing sensation, attempting to ignore his imagination trying to replace his hands with yours.

Then, suddenly, he got it! He knew exactly how to tell you how he felt.

He quickly rinsed all of the remaining bubbles from his hair and scrubbed the rest of his body, before shutting the water off and whispering a small spell. In an instant, the wetness coating his body evaporated into thin air, and he was bone-dry.

He slipped his pajamas on, gathered his day clothes, and made his way back to the dorm.

If he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he did it properly. He had about a thousand ideas, a notebook, quill, and ten hours to kill. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

- - -

You set yourself down at the end of the Slytherin table and poured a bit of coffee into your mug.

With the night you had just before, you could use a bit of caffeine. Nothing you had expected to happen yesterday did, and everything you hadn’t expected to happen had. In ten fold.

Between the three tests, the spilled pumpkin juice all over your bottoms, the near-fight between your best friend, Draco, and some Gryffindor, you had had enough by the end of all of it.

You had wanted to sleep after all of the activity. But, instead, you had Cormac McLaggen.

And you had gotten all of him. From his chestnut curls to his strong arms to his hips moving against yours. Thank Merlin he was a Quidditch player with immense stamina, else the two of you never would have lasted past the third or fourth rounds.

A smirk appeared across your face at the thought of him and everything he had given you last night. Even with how insufferable he was as soon as he decided to talk, his mouth seemed proficient in other things.

You sipped your coffee as students began to file in, lazily scuffing their feet across the floor, urgent to get a muffin.

Despite your urge to busy your mind with schoolwork and your plans for the day, it kept falling back to that stupid Gryffindor boy.

His fingers weren’t the most skilled, nor was the rest of his body, but he followed instructions like he was born to do so.

But even though he had done so well for you last night, and even though he’d seemed so eager to please, your mind couldn’t help but stray when you were with him last night. It couldn’t help but stray even now. Stray to a different boy.

Theodore Nott. The most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid your eyes on. Draco had introduced you to him during your first year; he’d said their fathers knew each other. Needless to say, you’d knew you wanted to be with him from the moment you saw him.

Even when you had no others, Theodore Nott was your goal.

Seconds into thinking about Theo, and you were already thinking about his body, and replacing Cormac’s touch with his. Just like you had last night.

Perhaps it was unfair to Cormac, but you both knew you hadn’t hooked up for ‘love’—more like mutual attraction and convenience.

You were thinking about the way Cormac had gasped above you and the way his mouth had felt on you, then suddenly it was Theo’s mouth where his had been, and Theo’s hands holding yours to the bed.

It was enough to make you readjust in your seat just a bit. Even your fantasies of Theo made you red in the face. How pathetic.

But, Merlin, if it wasn’t so nice to picture…his hands running down—

“Mind if I sit here?”

You glanced up suddenly, using every bit of will power in your body not to choke and spew coffee everywhere.

If it wasn’t Theodore fucking Nott standing right before your eyes, you might have mistook him for an angel. Your eyes widened instinctually.

“E-er, yeah, Theo…take a seat,” you said with a forced smile.

You watched him like a hawk as he seemed to effortlessly slide against the table, taking his seat before the hundreds of breakfast items lined along the oaken surface.

If you didn’t know any better, you figured that he knew you were staring at him over your coffee mug, but he was ignoring it. He seemed to be considering his meal options, rather than focusing on you.

“So, how are you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. He glanced up as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Oh, good…yeah, pretty good. How are you?”

You felt crazy. There was no way he’d just shown up like this while you’d been imagining him in the dirtiest scenarios—it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Maybe he was a Legilimens. Or one of his friends was. Shit, wasn’t Mattheo Riddle one?

You smiled nervously. “Uh, yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” He selected a mug and poured some tea.

“Yeah…” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”

A kiss was pressed to the outer point of your jawline. Slightly rough, cracked lips with a hint of stubble across the chin. Warm breath. The scent of leather polish and something earthy. Shit.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said against your ear, sending chills down your arms. Perhaps you had been wrong. Perhaps Cormac had been interested in more of a relationship with you, past the purely physical aspect.

You swore Theo’s eyes widened and his face fell. He seemed almost shocked or disappointed. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Hey,” you whispered back, a bit of a smile spreading across your lips at the familiar smell. Despite your lack of real feelings for him, Cormac did make you pretty happy, at least on a surface level.

“I’m gonna grab something to eat then head back to bed if you want to join me…,” he let his voice trail off in a joking tone as he slipped away. He headed towards the Gryffindor table, never looking back. You watched him as he walked for a few moments then turned back to Theo.

“So, McLaggen, huh?” he asked. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were surveying your face. He seemed to be searching for something.

“Oh, we—er, I mean, not really,” you chuckled.

“What does that mean?” He didn’t laugh in return.

“We kind of just—”

“Whatever…it’s none of my business.” He cut you off. He took one large sip from his mug, draining its contents before turning to go. You hopped to your feet.

“Theo, I—” you started to call after him, but he was already gone. Fuck, was he mad?

You sat back down and wrapped your fingers back around your cup. Something in you deflated like it had been poked with a needle—maybe it was your heart…or your stomach. You weren’t sure.

Cormac fluttered about the Gryffindor table, talking here and there, and grabbing bits of food. Your eyes followed him, watching his every movement.

You could see the muscles rippling beneath his pajama tee shirt—a gray cotton number that fit him in all the right places; could see the honey curls that curled over his eyes; could see the way his eyes flicked over to you every so often. Damn, the way he looked at you was so good…

But Theo was something else entirely. If Cormac was fire, Theo was electricity.

Theo replaced everything—Cormac’s eyes, lips, fingers. It was as if every memory was being replaced by him and there was nothing you could do to control it.

Then, before you could blink, and realize what was happening, Theo was walking back through the door. And also making a bee line for Cormac. Shit.

You stood slowly, waiting to see if you should intervene—or to see if you were just imagining the whole Theo-interested-in-you situation.

A few moments passed where Theo said one thing, Cormac said another, Theo pointed at you, Cormac said another thing and then laughed. Whatever he said earned a few chuckles from his friends sitting around him.

There was a beat.

Then Theo punched Cormac as hard as he could.

You gasped and rose to run toward the group that had now begun to swarm around Theo. It seemed that whoever had been laughing with Cormac obviously supported him enough to try and attack Theo, because once you’d gotten over there, they’d already laid a couple punches to Theo.

Never mind he was up against three other guys, he was holding his own. Every time they successfully landed a punch, Theo would fire back with one of his own. And he’d fire back hard.

“Stop!” you shouted, attempting to force yourself between them. Without looking, Theo spared an arm for a moment long enough that he could keep you pushed back behind him.

“No, Theo! Cormac! That’s enough!” You struggled against Theo.

Finally, you’d wrestled enough that you slipped free from Theo’s guard and slipped past them. You pushed him back as hard as you could, and turned to face the other boys as quickly as you could so they wouldn’t force themselves past you.

“All of you stop it right now!” You shouted, panting heavily from the effort it took to push Theo away. “You come with me.”

You pulled Theo behind you by his hand and exited through the looming doors of the Great Hall, leaving Cormac and his goons in shock. In their defense, a lot had happened in about five minutes.

Once through the doors, you Disapparated quickly, never letting go of Theo’s hand. You landed in your dormitory.

A quick survey of the room and a mumbled locking spell later, the two of you were alone and Theo was bleeding.

You conjured a bit of gauze and ointment from somewhere in the hospital wing, promising you’d return it later.

Sitting Theo down gently on the edge of your bed, you began to gently apply a bit of the soaked gauze to the cut on his cheek and the blood seeping from his nose. He hissed ever so slightly at the stinging, but kept his eyes on you.

“Why did you hit him?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. His eyes moved away from you.

A few moments of silence passed. The minute you thought he might never say something, he spoke up.

“McLaggen’s not a good guy.”

You scoffed. “Really? That’s all you have to say? You hit Cormac because he’s ‘not a good guy?’ There’s billions of people who aren’t good people that I don’t go around decking every time I see them! Why did you really hit him, Theo?”

You stared him down, demanding an answer with every glance he cast your way.

“Because of what he said about you.”

You were taken aback. “W-what did he say?”

***

Theo walked out of the Great Hall, trying his best to swallow the rage that was building up in his throat. Of course you were with someone. You were absolutely perfect. It was false hope for him to have thought he’d ever had a chance with you. He threw his plans from his mind.

As he stormed through the stone halls, flashes of the way McLaggen had come up right behind you and touched you like he owned you, pissed him off so badly he was shaking.

The way his lips had touched your cheek, the way you’d smiled so softly, the way you’d looked at him afterwards. It was clear you pitied him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault. If you wanted McLaggen, that was fine. He just needed…he just needed to make sure you were being treated right.

On a whim, he turned back around before he could stop himself, and marched back into the Great Hall.

If Theo couldn’t have you, he at least needed to ensure that whoever did have you was treating you right. You deserved it more than anyone did.

He spotted McLaggen leaned around a couple other guys, chattering and laughing. Honestly, just the sight of the jock pissed him off.

“Hey! McLaggen!” The dirty blonde boy glanced up, eyebrows quickly shifting from shocked to on his guard.

“Nott.” He nodded his head toward Theo. The boys gathered around him seemed to look up to, always prepared for some kind of conflict.

If they hadn’t known any better, Theo would have guessed they assumed this was a Quidditch issue. But it wasn’t.

“Can I talk to you alone?” Theo asked.

“What for? If this is about the Quidditch pitch this weekend, McGonagall already said—” McLaggen started.

“It’s not about that,” Theo interrupted him. He was right, Cormac did think this was a Quidditch issue. Why else would Theo want to interact with him?

“Oh, wait…this is about them, isn’t it?” McLaggen laughed, nodding his head in your direction. Theo’s jaw twitched at the thought of him talking about you.

“I just wanted to say that they’re really important to me, and I want you to take care of them.”

“What—are you their dad?” McLaggen snorted.

“No, man. But they’re a very close friend of mine and I want to ensure that you’re going to be good to them.” Theo pointed in your direction without thinking about it.

“Who are we talking about again?” Theo’s jaw clenched at his response.

“Man, come on. I’m not asking for a lot. I care about my friend.”

“Are you sure they’re just your friend? I could’ve sworn they screamed your name last night.”

The blood drained from Theo’s face as he heard McLaggen’s words. He was stunned for a moment.

“What did you say?” Theo muttered, barely able to form words.

“I said, ��when I was fucking them last night, I think they said your name.’ It didn’t really matter anyways, because they were just a distraction for me. They’re not the prettiest thing, but good enough when they’re on their knees—”

Theo couldn’t handle it anymore. Without a second thought or a blink, Theo swung his fist at Cormac’s jaw as hard as he could. He didn’t know who this fucker thought he was, but he wasn’t going to talk about you like that.

Somewhere distantly, he thought he heard you shout his name, but he’d started something he couldn’t just walk away from.

***

“That’s what he said about you… I couldn’t just let him get away with that. Someone had to show him some consequences.”

From the beginning, you had insisted that whatever was happening between you and Cormac was purely situational, but somehow his words still hurt.

You were flashing between angry and sad and hurt and mortified—you didn’t know what to feel. Had you really screamed Theo’s name last night? The fact that you genuinely couldn’t say whether you did or not, made you scared.

What did Theo think? Was he disgusted?

“Theo, I think the asshole was just trying to ramp you up,” you chuckled nervously. “I didn’t…s-scream your name last night.” The last words were little more than a whisper. You averted your eyes, finding the stone floor quite interesting all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe you were having to say that.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Theo breathed. He seemed much closer to you now, then he had been before. His breaths mingled with yours slowly…melodically…

Your eyes flickered between him and the floor, only viewing him through split seconds where his darkened skin flashed against the sunlight outside. Fuck, he was beautiful.

How many times had you imagined tracing that olive skin?

“Er, yes, of course,” you said distantly. “You can ask me anything, Theo.”

“Have…you ever…”

His words came out thickened and slow, as if they were honey dripping from his lips. They poured wetly through his teeth, hot and searing. You could feel them cover your body, pouring delicately over your skin and covering your mind. The syllables that left his lips had your head spinning. You felt as if you might be sick.

“...had any feelings…”

His lips shuddered slightly between words, his eyes were looking directly into yours, the contact never wavering. You had plucked up the courage to stare up into those oceanic features, but just enough to get the gist of what he was asking. You couldn’t bear to look at him as you debated your answer.

“...for me…?”

Fuck.

Your eyelids fluttered closed. A deep sigh pushed from your nostrils as your lips pinched together. If you had known that sleeping with Cormac McClaggen would somehow set into motion the timeline that would out your long-lived crush on Theodore Nott, you’d never have said yes to the bastard. Besides, it wasn’t as if you weren’t thinking of Theo the whole time—so much so that you apparently had “screamed his name.” Merlin, this was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you.

“Theo, uh… I don’t know if this is a good—” you started.

“Please,” he shuddered, his gentle hands pressing softly to either cheek. He tilted your head upwards to force more eye contact. The physical touch had you reeling. You had never been so close to him before, except for in your mind. “If you have, I need to know. I will not force anything from you, but I need to know.”

Your eyes flickered back and forth nervously as you summoned any strength that was left floating around in your fleeting esteem. You wanted so badly to tell him. Tell him about all those dinners you’d left early because your mind was so clouded with thoughts of him, about all of the classes you’d been called on to answer a question you weren’t even aware was being asked because you were too busy sketching him in your books, about all of the nights your fingers had slipped beneath your silk covers to pleasure yourself from a mere thought of him.

A glimpse of him in your mind’s eye had been more than enough for years and years, but now—with your head cradled beneath his strong hands—you feared it’d never be enough again.

“Yes,” you choked out. The word came out small and harmless, as if you’d been holding your breath for too long before letting it out.

And before you were able to wrench your face from his grasp, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

A muffled yelp of surprise slipped out between the two of you, but he swallowed the noise with a deep sigh. Despite never imagining this was how your confession of love would go, you couldn’t help but appreciate that it was happening now.

Everything in you urged you to pull away and demand he leave for assuming you wanted to be kissed. But the child harboring a deep love for the boy they’d spotted on the train all those years ago pushed you to curl your fingers into the soft, brown strands atop his head.

A slight moan, almost in that of relief, was pressed into your mouth. His hands released your face and wrapped around your waist, clutching tightly to your waistband. He pulled you closer to him, his chest bumping yours.

He wanted you, he wanted you, he wanted you, and he’d fucking gotten you. He reminded himself to punch Enzo and Mattheo in the gut when he got away from you. That was, if he ever pulled away from you. The feel of your lips on his was something out of a dream—one that his wildly imaginative mind could not have even mustered up.

And finally, after years of debating, a shitty one-night stand, and thousands of shower pep-talks, Theo had finally worked up the nerve to taste your lips. And you had finally worked up the nerve to swallow your pride and confess your love to Theo, rather than projecting it through other vectors.

And though the two of you would eventually pull apart, giggle quietly to one another, and announce your newfound infatuation for each other to all of your friends the following day, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was quite right. Everything had fallen into place except for one thing.

Theo, as you would soon come to learn, always knew when something was wrong—oftentimes even when you didn’t realize it yourself. He would come to prove this many times over the following years of your relationship, but none better than when he had managed to learn a spell just for you.

A spell that completely evaporated all of Cormac McClaggen’s clothes from his dormitory—and his body—whilst in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“That’ll show the fucker,” Theo had whispered into your ear amongst the loud bickering and laughing.

- - -

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jaeyunverse · 1 year ago

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the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?”

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!”

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression.

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?”

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.”

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?”

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.”

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived.

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill.

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras.

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up.

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you.

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you.

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults.

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to.

And damn, they were right.

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware.

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self.

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see.

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails.

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date.

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed.

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory.

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind.

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you.

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.”

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.”

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.”

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.”

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him.

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it.

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.”

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet.

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake.

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?”

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.”

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.”

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.”

“What do they mean?”

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.”

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!”

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.”

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!”

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.”

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.”

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.”

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.”

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.”

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.”

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.”

“Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?”

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily.

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.”

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided.

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded.

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court.

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.”

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.”

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.”

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses.

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?”

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.”

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.”

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?”

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting.

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you.

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it.

You never meant it.

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!”

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics.

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.”

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.”

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.”

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you.

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.”

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you.

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car.

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes.

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.”

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace.

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe.

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.”

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow.

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it.

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to.

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!”

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?”

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.”

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat.

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure.

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.”

“You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!”

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.”

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore.

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped.

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?”

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions.

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word.

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws.

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers.

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing.

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture.

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time.

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him.

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.”

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!”

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?”

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.”

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour.

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being.

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?”

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?”

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor.

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw.

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it.

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did.

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself.

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—”

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said.

“W—what?” he croaked.

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.”

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts.

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him.

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth.

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck.

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his.

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape.

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder.

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before.

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully.

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth.

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.”

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going.

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway.

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.”

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.”

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath.

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again.

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.”

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks.

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated.

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.”

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!”

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.”

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!”

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.”

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?”

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek.

“Love.”

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viiper1 · 3 months ago

Text

The perfect Date.

The ideal date they would plan for you.

Head canons

Mentioned: Armin, Jean, eren, Conny, Reiner

Armin Arlert.

Would start off with a Picknick near a flower field.

Would make you a flower crown.

You’d watch the sunset together and do cloud gazing/star gazing (depending on how long you guys stayed)

Or Picknick at the beach

and if he thinks you’re the type of person to like or value that sort of thing he will give you cute seashells he found.

Afterwards you’d take a walk on the beach, walking barefoot in the sand during the sunset.

He’d probably take some pictures too to remember this date. For some reason he always takes the best pictures of you without even really trying.

And MIGHT gift you a self made memory book or a handwritten letter.

If it’s colder he’d take you ice skating

will teach you how to properly skate because you keep falling on your ass.

Don’t worry he’s catching you (most of the times)

Connie Springer.

Would take you to an arcade or a gaming center (and laugh at you every time you lose to him) would swear that you cheated when you win against at him more than once.

You two almost spend the whole day there completely forgetting about the time because you were having so much fun.

Or a amusement park/fun fair

he will try to encourage you if you’re scared to ride a ride

and even make fun of you a little bit “don’t tell me you’re scared, how cute” he teases

On the ride you’re BOTH screaming your asses off.

“You seemed scared…at your grown age…cute I guess” You made fun of him tease him back.

You two almost ride all the roller coasters

He tried to win you a plushie on claw machine but it takes him like 6 tries untill he gets one small plushy

“I swear these machines are rigged!” He says but then tries again on a different machine.

You make him ride the Ferris wheel with you at the end.

Jean Kirstein.

Drive in movie theater,

If you’re watching a scary movie it’s probably because he thought you’d snuggle into him in fear but then he’d be the one to claw on to you but he swears on his grandma that he isn’t scared.

Dinner date but he’s making dinner for you.

Idk why but I love the thought of Jean making dinner for his lover.

OR you’re both cooking together,

maybe even messing around and smearing a bit of flower on his face but he’d definitely get revenge for that one.

He’d have candles lit and the lights out, it would be super romantic.

Surprisingly the food doesn’t taste bad.

Afterwards if you’re not too tired, you both would point portraits of each other and he’s lowkey a good painter so he did a really nice job.

If you’re too tired you’d just snuggle in bed and watch a movie.

Eren Yeager.

Also Arcade or gaming center

it was supposed to be cute a first but it turns very competitive very fast

he doesn’t like to lose and if he does he’ll say he let you win on purpose.

You better watch out at laser tag he will not hold back just because you’re his gf.

Takes most games supper serious and you barely have a chance at winning.

Feels kinda bad afterwards so he buys you a plushy and roses at the store around the corner as a surprise.

Or a rooftop restaurant dinner/bar

the view was so beautiful, it felt unreal,

he was paying ofc

He bought you a bracelet with the initial “E” on it, and expects you to wear it everyday.

Will ask why you’re not wearing it if he doesn’t see it on your arms throughout the relationship/marriage.

Reiner Braun.

Romantic fancy dinner

He would 100% stand there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and open the car door for you.

It’s a Very fancy restaurant but he didn’t tell you so you lowkey look like you wandered into the wrong building. He feels kinda bad afterwards when you tell him you feel out of place and underdressed.

You already KNOW he’s paying.

Or picnic and candle painting

He’d try his best to make a pretty candle but he’s not as good at it as you.

He puts them in the loving room but doesn’t really want to use the candles because he doesn’t want them to ‘disappear’

After you made him go on another candle painting date in hops that you get to burn at least one of the, now four, candles he still insists on not using them and suggests a different normal candle.

Ofc if you Insist on wanting to use one of the four, he’ll let you but he’s lowkey a bit sad to see them go since they reminded him of the date.

Thank you for reading<3

@briefpeachdinosaur

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 21 days ago

Note

I read your work for Sephiroth and was wondering if you could write another one!

Impressive Woman

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : he told you not to be so shy but when you try he's nowhere to be found. what if you train to pass the time? surely there is no way to embarrass yourself again.

c/w : reader uses a sword, mention of blood

a/n : urghh i do NOT feel good about this one. i hope this one lives up to the first part

part 1

The weeks that followed the incident in the hallway were anti-climatic.

Immediately following your encounter with Sephiroth you returned to Zack, abandoning your fabricated meeting with Angeal. He was standing, in the same place you had left him, chewing on his nails. Once he noticed you, practically floating, back towards him his hands fell away from his face.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a goner. Man, he walked back this way and he- jesus it was scary you should be glad you missed it- he was all like,” he furrows his brows and scrunches his face up, recreating Sephiroth’s ‘scary’ expression. You assume it was probably more frightening in real time than now, considering Zack’s face only makes you giggle. “It’s not funny, seriously! I thought I was never gonna see you again. I was ready for you to come out of there sobbing, and then I would have to show him-.”

“Show him what, Zack? You can’t even show the spider living in the corner of your bunk who’s boss. What exactly did you plan on doing to your taller, stronger, and definitely handsomer superior soldier.”

“Um, ‘handsomer’ is not a word. Also, that was completely unnecessary. I was really worried about you, and you come back completely unscathed and then start complimenting your hypothetical heartbreaker. Hey, speaking of, why aren’t you heartbroken and sobbing by the way.”

“Your faith in me is truly touching Zack,” you let out a half-scoff-half-laugh and roll your eyes. “I’ll have you know that things went.. better than expected actually. And I’m telling you, things are looking up for me.”

But they weren't. If anything, things were steadily declining as the days passed. You had barely even seen the impassive man, let alone had a chance to speak to him and fulfill his request to “not be so shy”. Just your luck that during the most important week of your romantic life, the main component would be missing. Sephiroth had been sent away on a mission concerning first-class soldiers only. Strictly first-class soldier business, strictly confidential, strictly unable to share any details. At least that was what Angeal had told you when you asked when he’d be back.

So, you sat, sulking and staring at an empty training simulator, sitting in the same spot you had watched him train not even a week ago. Your lips part with a soft sigh, chin resting on your fists.

“You know he’s coming back right?” Zack’s voice breaks you from your sullen trance, mirroring your surprised jump when your head whips in his direction.

“Christ Zack, don’t sneak up like that!”

“Why don’t you do something productive and try out the training simulator? Rather than, y’know, just staring at it and thinking about sweaty Sephiroth.”

Your eyebrows scrunch up, unimpressed, “Um- I was not thinking about that. And the fact that you thought of that at all is concerning.”

“Hey! Don’t turn this back on me. Gross..” His voice is shrill as he defends himself, exaggerating a disgusted shiver with his body. He laughs softly, eyes spotting a soft smile on your face that puts him at ease. “Anyway, you should do some training. It might take your mind off things. Think about it, kay?” Zack rests his hand on your shoulder, giving you a goofy smile before he waves himself off.

Of course, he was right. And it was the perfect time to train because nobody was around for you to embarrass yourself in front of. Cough cough, Sephiroth.

You pull yourself up from the plastic bench and approach the training simulator. You push your hair out of your face, roll your sleeves up, and grab one of the midsized training swords. The dome lights up blue, the artificial training dummies loading up before you. Gently, you rest the back of the blade against your forehead, breathing in and grounding yourself.

You focus on the cool metal against your clammy skin, tying your thoughts into this moment. Training during the day is usually hard for you. If anyone asks, you blame it on not wanting to fail in front of a crowded room. Which is true. But in reality, it’s just demeaning.

Shinra is a male-dominated place and a female soldier is hard to come by. It’s not like it’s uncommon for you to hear inappropriate comments or be offered help you don't need.

Usually something like, “You should lift your arm higher when you swing your blade,” “Position your feet closer together,” “Adjust your grip,” and “Why don't I give you a private lesson on technique?” It’s like they forget that you're a soldier too. They forget that you took the same training and got to the same place as them.

The blade in your hands glides swiftly through the air, fracturing the training dummy into a jumble of artificial cubes on the ground. A hair falls loosely in the middle of your forehead and you pay it no mind save for a quick puff of air to move it out of your eyes.

You’re not supposed to, but you can't help picturing the male soldiers who often approach you to offer their unwelcome suggestions. You should be picturing Wutai, picturing a real fight, but it is so satisfying to imagine the stunned look on a man's face as he gets cut down. Another dummy crumbles into a pile of digital squares. And another. And another. You plow through them, more concentrated than you’ve probably ever been. Skin glowing with a thin coat of sweat.

Standing in the middle of the dome, you realize that the training dummies have all fallen. But suddenly something heavy rests on your shoulder, gripping it. A reflex test maybe. But you don’t remember loading that in.

You swing your sword around expecting another artificial being but your blade misses, flying through the air unexpectedly and causing you to stumble. It moves out of the way. It’s a real person. You swung at a real person. The blade clatters against the floor, slipping from your hands as you turn to face the person who intruded on your training.

“Well, that's not exactly the greeting I was expecting. I thought you'd be happier to see me.” He's seriously teasing you even though you almost cut him in half.

“Seph- Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I would never- Why would you come in here? I could’ve seriously hurt you! Jesus, I didn’t even hear you come in..” You look him over erratically, your voice trailing off as your eyes zero in on a tear in the fabric on his arm.

With otherworldly speed, your hands find his arm to observe where your blade made contact. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his other arm rise and begin to move towards you at your approach and then slowly fall back to his side, barely noticeable hesitance. “I cut you..”

He looks down at his arm with you, hooking one finger in the torn fabric and ripping it further to get a better view, “Yes. I suppose you did.”

You wrap your hand around his forearm pulling him behind you quickly, and to any onlooker's surprise, he follows with no resistance, allowing you to drag him to the nearest first aid room. You practically push him to lean against the table inside, searching with unsteady hands for something to clean and wrap the wound.

Sephiroth curiously stares at you. Observes you. Did you seriously think that this was worth all this stress? It was a tiny wound, just bigger than a paper cut. if the paper was made of medal but- He had just been off on a mission, facing much worse than this, and yet you were acting like it was the worst wound you had ever seen.

He realizes, upon your return with arms full of medical supplies, that he hasn’t seen your eyes this whole time because you won't look away from this cut.

You roll his sleeve up with gentle hands, ignoring the way his fingers begin to brush against the underside of your arm. Gently, you wipe away the blood that oozes from his arm, hands shaky while pushing the gauze down to soak up the red liquid. When you know that the bleeding has stopped oozing out, you wrap his arm in a thin layer of gauze. You suddenly feel embarrassed by the attention you’ve given him, knowing now that it won't even need stitches.

Two weeks ago you wouldn’t have even dared to look in his direction if there was potential for him to catch you. Now you have confessed your feelings to him in the middle of an empty hallway, let him kiss you in the same empty hallway, and then almost cut his arm off. All in the span of a week. Okay, maybe you weren't even close to cutting his arm off but still.

“I’m sorry, I probably didn’t need to drag you away for this.” You finally look up to his face. He smiles down at you, maybe it would feel condescending to anyone else but to you it's almost endearing.

“You're probably right. But I appreciate your concern anyway,” he lifts his hand to your face to push a stray piece of hair from your forehead. “You’re all sweaty.”

“Sorry..”

“Don’t apologize,” Sephiroth’s eyes never look away from your face. You can still feel his eyes on you when you look away from him. “You’re a good fighter. How come I’ve never seen you train before?”

“How long were you watching?” Your embarrassment grows and your face must show it because Sephiroth lets out a small laugh.

“I apologize. I must admit, I was watching from the moment you started. I expected to find you when I got back, Angeal hadtold me you were quite troubled by my absence. But you were in the training simulator. So I took the opportunity to watch, almost like someone else I know.” He moves his head to find your gaze, which you hide from him by looking to the side. You can hear his smirk before you see it, and you know he's referring to you admiring him in the simulator on multiple occasions.

“You are far more impressive than me when you train. I can’t imagine you saw anything impressive.” You cross your arms over your chest but his hands reach up to break your defense, pulling both your hands into his own.

“You shouldn’t speak that way. You are a very impressive woman, you fight well. Half of these soldiers would be more than lucky to learn from you, don't forget that.” Even while leaning against the table he towers above you.

Your stomach explodes with tingles as his praise registers. Pride fills you. You had always admired Sephiroth as a soldier. Even before you developed your childish crush on him.

One of his hands leaves yours, finger brushing against the high point of your cheekbone. “Did you know you have a cut here?” All you do is shake your head.

He maneuvers the two of you to switch positions. You jump up to sit on the table, expecting to be closer to his height to no avail. Sephiroth gently moves your hair out of his way, pushing it behind your shoulders; his fingers brushing against your neck sends a shiver through your body.

He grabs a small cotton ball from the pile of supplies you had dropped on the table before and pours a small amount of antiseptic on it. Gently, he places it on the cut you didn’t even know you had and wipes away the blood that has dried along its edges. “You probably did this when you first swung your sword, do you always hold your blade so close to your face?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, remembering that you were embarrassed just a moment ago, “It’s just something I do when I train, my dad used to say something about being one with the blade when I was a kid." You give him exactly 2 seconds to respond before you fall back on yourself, "I know that probably sounds stupid..”

“You’re very hard on yourself. I don’t like hearing you speak that way. You are so much more than you know,” he says it so casually like it’s the simplest thought he’s ever had.

He looks between you, your cheek, and the supplies on the table. Usually, you might be glad to have a break from his intense gaze but now every time he looks away you're filled with disappointment. His fingers are gentle as he places a bandaid across your cheek, a soft smirk on his lips. You can only imagine it’s something embarrassing but you can't bring yourself to care.

“There. Now we're even.” He doesn't try to distance himself, hand brushing against your cheek.

“I- Can we train together? I mean- would you train me?” He raises an eyebrow at you, flicking the used cotton ball and the bandaid’s packaging into the nearby garbage can.

“I won't train you.” Your hopeful expression fades, mouth parted like a silent ‘Oh’.

“Ah ah,” he lifts your chin with his pointer finger before it can fall any further, “I won't train you. But we can train together. I’m not a teacher, and anything you have to learn you won't learn it from any simple pointers I have to offer. It’s the experience you need. I will give you that. But we'll do it together, yeah?” You can’t help but flush at the underlying flirtation in his words. "How's that sound, hm?" Once you realize he's expecting some sort of acknowledgment, you nod.

Sephiroth’s finger leaves your chin, palm coming up to pat your cheek. If it was anybody else it would feel demeaning but it only makes you crack a smile. “You come and find me whenever you like, and you can show me a thing or two about ‘being one with the blade’.” He smirks, teasing you as he walks out of the medical room leaving you to sit in your flustered thoughts.

“So I imagine you found Sephiroth?” When you don’t respond, Zack waves his hand in front of your face.

“Hm?”

“God, I have to get you out of here. He’s melting your brain with his evil soldier powers. Look at you,” his hand dramatically clasps the fabric of his tank top with one hand and touches his forehead with the back of the other. “I’m losing my best friend to his necromancy. He has hypnotized you with his love magic.” He gasps, “Oh god, what if he’s some sort of ancient being sent here to prevent you from ever having a decent conversation with me again.”

“Zack.”

“Yeah?”

“This has to be in your top ten most dramatic outbursts, I didn’t think you could get any worse. Why didn’t you become an actor? You seriously missed your calling.”

“Now that you mention it, I have been thinking about getting into acting,” he puts his hand up to his chin in fake thought, laughing when you push him and he loses his balance.

Suddenly he pokes his finger into your face, touching your cheekbone, “Hey, by the way, what’s up with the kiddy moogle bandage?”

#x reader #oneshot #drabble #female reader #fem reader #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth ff7 #ff7 #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 x reader #sephiroth final fantasy

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melanatedeuph0ria · 8 months ago

Text

the boy is mine ⋆˙⟡♡

rick grimes x black!fem! reader

since he’d arrived in alexandria, you and rick have gone from complete strangers to close friends. you’d proven to be extremely useful to his team-after all, you were a great shot and had skin tougher than steel. but now, you’ve started seeing rick in a different, more romantic light. will your newly-developed crush on the police officer be reciprocated as you’d dreamed?

summary: you and rick go on a run for supplies. some hidden feelings get uncovered along the way.

NOTE: this fic takes place in alexandria era BEFORE negan (i’m guessing like s6 bc i forgot)

a/n: MY FIRST FIC EVER AAAAA i’m hoping its ok bc i’m literally just going w the flow lmao

also sorry ts took so fucking long i still have school n stuff guys 🙏🏽😞

genre: fluff, angst, hurt, comfort idk

warnings: blood, zombies, cursing, use of n word, near-death experience

“y/n! you ready to head out?”, rick yelled as he leaned against a silver sedan parked in front of Alexandria’s gates.

after finding yourself caught in a conversation with maggie and glenn, you quickly swooped your head around to acknowledge the gruff man, your eyes widening at the sound of his southern drawl lingering on your name.

“yeah, I’m comin’!” you croaked, creasing your lips into a nervous smile. after a moment, you made your way over to his car, backpack slung over your back.

you and rick were headed to a small, nearby grocery store that an old-time alexandrian claimed was hidden away from the frequent commotion of the town. there was a 50/50 chance that it might’ve or might’ve not been looted, but you both weren’t willing to skimp out on this rare opportunity. after all, the community was running short on food and supplies-it started getting obvious that it was once people were given smaller portion sizes than normal.

and it was you who, stupidly enough, agreed to check out the area with none other than your best friend you’ve been harboring a crush on, rick grimes.

you were intrigued with the man from the moment he stepped foot into alexandria-he lowkey terrified you, him AND his group, but that only sparked your urge to get to know them a bit more. you didn’t actively seek interaction with them- it was by really by circumstance when you had the chance to kinda intermingle with them all. you forgot how you and rick even met each other, to be honest. he knew you were a good shot and had skin tough as nails, that’s for sure. you had grown into something of a maternal figure for Carl, his teenage son, although it took a while for him to finally warm up to you. you couldn’t blame him, to be honest. you knew he’d been through some rough shit-he told you about his mom and what he was forced to do to her after she’d been bitten and just delivered judith, his month-old half-sister. nonetheless, you and rick were both each other’s rocks; he cared for you unlike anyone else in alexandria, and you adored certain things about him-his deep, southern voice when he gently called your name. the traces of vanilla and bourbon cologne left on his clothes despite sweating all day-most of the time he didn’t even bother trying to put it on, but the days he did, you subconsciously noticed. him surprising you with 90’s rnb album CDs that he’d snatched on his runs- once he’d surprised you with a whole erykah badu album, and since then, you’ve kept it under lock and key inside your nightstand. his damp, ruffled hair as he stops by your house for a towel to dry it off because he never seemed to have any of his own; you let him in without much question, of course, but for the past few weeks he’s been on your porch steps, your heart’s been pumping at speeds you’ve never experienced before-at least, not in a while-a zombie apocalypse ruins one’s concept of love when the one you’re in love with can slip from your fingers in a heartbeat.

but could it be? could you really be in love with your best friend in a zombie apocalypse? you were sure of it, but horrified to know if he felt the same, which is why you didn’t even realize your leg was was anxiously bouncing up and down on the floor of the car until…

“y/n. you alright?”

“huh? oh y-yeah, i’m good. what’s wrong?”

“nothin’, you’re just..extra quiet.”

“do i need to start talkin’?” you didn’t mean for that to come off as rude as it did. you were just nervous, nervous about what he’d tell you if you told him how you truly felt.

“no, no, it’s fine. you don’t gotta say nothin’ if you don’t feel like it.”

aww shit, now i feel bad, you thought. you tried your hardest not to sink into the car seat in shame so he wouldn’t notice yet another thing off about you today. you tilted your head to the window.

“we made it.” in what seemed like a flash, you and Rick were parked outside the convenience store. did you zone out that hard? not that it mattered anymore. you climbed out of the car and you both took a closer look at the store. it was abandoned all right-at least, it could’ve just looked that way-but it still looked intact. untouched by the world. you hoped that would also apply to whatever awaited inside.

bigger than what i thought it’d be, you thought as you peered at the building.

“bigger than i thought it would be.” rick said aloud.

is this nigga reading my mind..? you thought. “let’s just hope there’s no walkers on the inside.” you said in an attempt to reassure yourself that there were no undead lurking around.

You looked back at Rick for a response or some sort of agreement, but when you did, out of the corner of your eye you saw him damn near snap his neck just to stare back at the store. he cleared his throat loudly. the gesture alone radiated an anxious energy, something you had almost never sensed in the man since knowing him. it was kinda like he was afraid of getting caught…wait…

..was rick staring at you? and how long had you gone without even noticing?

if he was staring, it certainly wasn’t for no reason. you are undoubtedly stunning, so much in fact that some people were envious of your beauty before and during the apocalypse. your rich, brown skin, glistening in the hot, june sun, and your thick, coily hair, pulled into a low puff, were just a few of your most admirable features, both inside and out.

shaking the thought off your mind, you both finally approached the building, carefully peeling open its glass doors and sliding inside. you knew the drill already, but rick felt the need to tell you again, which wasn’t to your surprise at this point. “i’ll take the left side, you take the right. we’ll use our walkies to communicate-if you’re in trouble, i’ll be right there, alright?” you nodded in compliance-you both knew you could handle yourself-but you couldn’t help but bite down a smile when he said that. his low, whispery voice was strangely reassuring, like he cared for you as a lover instead of a friend. you felt your cheeks begin to burn-it’s not really like he could tell anyway, for obvious reasons, but also because it was dark as hell in the store- you assumed the owners didn’t survive long enough to pay the electricity bill.

you were shocked to see that the aisles were just barely looted-you we’re expecting them to show signs of being scavenged at least a bit, but there they were, filled to the brim with food that would just about save Alexandria from starvation.

you clicked on your walkie and held it up to your mouth. “holy shit.” is all that could manage to come out of your mouth right now.

“looks like we hit the jackpot.” rick replied on the on the other line. he already knew what your “holy shit” meant.

with caution, you strolled down the “canned goods” aisle, looking up and down each section in awe. you came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rows, gazing at everything in stock until your eyes settled on a can of peaches. you knew they were probably expired, you expected everything else in there to be, but you were curious to see what the expiration date read on its back, to see how long it’d been since the world went to hell. you held the can in your left hand, examining the date on its back: 10/18/09; it’d been expired a year before the apocalypse even began…

didn’t think it’d be that expired.., you murmured to yourself as you creased your lips into a disgusted frown. just as you began to set the specimen back on the shelf, a loud thud from underneath the rack sent it bouncing upwards, startling you so badly that the can slipped from your fingers and splattered onto the floor into a mushy mess. somehow, there was a walker under there, reaching its pale, maggot-infested limbs out to grasp at your leg. your eyes immediately traveled to the undead as you quickly thought of how you could quickly end its 2nd life. you frantically tugged your imprisoned foot backwards in an attempt to break free, reaching into your leather sheath and pulling out your dagger halfway, but, soon enough, you were met with an even more terrifying scenario. your back clashed violently with the rack behind you, and a walker on the other side, suddenly aroused by the sound and the smell of your human flesh, reached its spindly hand through a wide, open hole in the decaying rack. its hand curled around your throat with enough pressure to keep you pinned to the shelf while you also tried to free your leg from the walker below you.

“RICK, I NEED HELP!” you yelled out into the aisle. it was a risky move and could probably attract even more walkers than what was already threatening you, but you couldn’t get a good grip on your dagger and that was the only weapon you had. calling for backup was the only option you had left.

the oncoming presence of death pricked at prodded at your skin like thorns. the thought that-in that moment, you could be bitten, and all of your hopes and ambitions for the future could immediately be crushed-left you speechless, stricken with terror.

just as the walker grabbing at your neck prepared to take a bite out of it, rick appeared and stabbed it right in its head. just after you finally freed yourself from its grasp, the man noticed the walker on the ground and stomped on its skull, leaving a bloody, mushy mess on the floor, but you were too panicked to even notice.

an exasperated sigh escaped your mouth. “oh my God, rick, you’re a lifesaver-“

your rushed, panicky words were interrupted when he suddenly crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes immediately widened at the sensation of his coarse lips pressing onto yours, soft and plump, then slowly fluttered shut. your breathing, at first rapid and filled with anxiety, had simmered down into slow and steady breaths as his lips passionately devoured yours. almost subconsciously, he trailed his right hand, roughened with scars and calluses, on the nape of your neck, holding you closer than ever before as he rested his left hand on your hip. his ocean blue eyes drifted shut as he explored you, desperate for your touch, before he slowly pulled away from the kiss to give you some time to breathe. you fluttered your eyes back open and waited for him to look up at you.

“i’m-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that, just so randomly. fuck…” rick babbled rapid apologies before a frustrated, shaky sigh escaped from his mouth. without thinking, you cupped his cheek, burning with the embarrassment of his decision, and leaned into him, rewarding him with a kiss of your own; it only seemed fair after he saved your life and your heart in only a matter of seconds. his eyes fluttered shut at your touch as your other hand tangled into his neatly combed hair. you let the feeling of your lips gently pressed together linger for a few seconds before you slowly pulled away. you felt your heart buzzing with excitement but also with relief, now that you knew that he’d been storing feelings for you this entire time. a confident grin appeared on your face as you looked up at him.

“i like you too, grimes.”

-the end. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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carmenberzattosgf · 10 months ago

Note

hi it’s 💫 again so sorry for flooding your inbox i just have too much time on my hands so let’s chat about needy carmen :)

he’s definitely a little shy about it at the beginning of the relationship. long, lingering stares and fidgeting with his hands. would probably try playing it cool until he knows you’re in the mood too.

once he’s more confident and comfortable, his hands would be on your waist and hips. giving you ‘please fuck me’ eyes. if he’s not THAT needy he’d be a little silly i think saying shit like “baby please, you just look too good!” “giving me blue balls—im kidding, im kidding! yeesh☺️”

if he is super needy though…he’s cuddled up into your side like he’s trying to melt into you, lips curled into a little frown. “can i have you?” “need you…missed you so much today” “baby just need you so bad”

I told you never apologize for flooding my ask box! Your stuff makes my brain go brrr like AH. ilysm and I love how you think about Carmy!

needy Carmen. Yes. Now that he’s in a relationship he just wants you so bad. Like all the time. He’s had so few romantic relationships he’s still learning how to balance it all.

But! He’s so shy at first he doesn’t know if you are feeling up to it right now and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. That leads to him not so subtly staring you down while you sit on the couch in his apartment, scrolling through your phone while a show plays in the background.

The first thing you notice is his knee bouncing up and down rapidly. Next his staring becomes more apparent, and the way he’s fighting with his fingertips.

“Something wrong, Carm?” He blinks at your words. Almost like he’s caught off guard himself.

“W-what? No. I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?” You lean closer to him, letting your hand rest on his knee, soothing its shaking. “What is it, baby?”

“Fuck—“ A strangled groan leaves his throat. Your eyes dart down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. You crawl over him, letting your knees part so you can straddle his hips. Carmy’s hands settle on your waist, holding on tight.

“You want me? Is that why you’re all tense? You gotta tell me before you get like this, sweetheart.”

“W-want you. Please.”

The longer you and Carmen date though, the more confident he becomes. He’s completely unashamed of how much he loves you… and your cunt. Carmy gets sooooo pussy drunk it’s not even funny.

When he catches you all dressed up for a work event, he can’t keep his hands off of you. “Fucking hell— you’re so pretty,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing you into the bathroom counter where you were getting ready.

“Carm— I need to go I’m going to be late.”

“C’mon, baby. I’ll be fast. I can make you cum in five minutes. I won’t let anything get on your clothes. I promise. Please.” His hand slips underneath your dress, pressing against your soaked underwear. “You’re already soaked for me. Let me make you feel good. Please, baby.”

Carmen is indeed fast. He bends you over the bathroom counter and pounds onto you like there’s no tomorrow. His fingers work fast on your bud, drawing fast circles. He also doesn’t let anything get in your clothes because as soon as he cums inside of you, he falls to his knees to clean you up with his tongue.

Now while his confidence grows in your relationship, he also becomes more okay with just how needy he actually is. He just loves your touch. He loves how your skin feels against his. How you two fit together perfectly.

On this particular day, Carmen has the day off, while you don’t. You get home late to Carmen already in bed. Thinking he’s asleep, you walk over to the other side of the bed and slip under the covers, ready to go to sleep.

However, that’s when Carmen rolls over and wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your skin. “Missed you today.” He’s basically melting into you, desperate to be touching as much of you as possible. “Don’t like it when you’re not here.”

“I know, baby. I couldn’t get anyone to cover for me.”

“C-can I have you?” The desperation in his words draws your attention to the hardness poking into your ass. Little whimpers leave his mouth as his hips naturally rock into you. “Need you so bad, please. Missed you so much.”

“Carm, have you been like this all day?” He nods his head against your shoulder blade.

“I—uh. I had a dream about you, but when I woke up you had already left. I didn’t want to get off without you. Wanted you— wanted your cunt.”

“You have me, baby. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Love you so much.” His hands shake as he pulls down your underwear and then his own. Carmy doesn’t waste time to take off your shirt, he just needs to be inside you.

Carmy fucks you slow. His pace isn’t hurried, focusing more on deep thrusts. The entire time he’s flooding your ear with praise. “F-fuck, baby. So fucking good. You’re so good to me. I-it’s like I’m made for you—“ He whines when you press on the small of his back, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hits a spot that makes stars explode across your vision.

“Carmy— shit! Please, right there. Just like that, fuck—“ you weave your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots. Carmy’s slow messy pace continues, but it’s perfect. His thumb begins to circle your clit as his cock keeps hitting deep inside you.

“I-I’m getting close baby— love you. Fuck. I love you so much. Going to fill you up till you’re dripping. You’re mine, my beautiful girl.”

“Y-yours, Carm. Always yours.”

And yes he cums inside of you and you cockwarm him to sleep. Ain’t no way he’s going to pull out of you now. You couldn’t care less. With Carmen on top of you like this, you’ve never felt more safe. Clean up can wait till the morning

#💫 anon #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #brain rot

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request a Philip Graves NSFW Alphabet

A/N: On second thought, I don't dislike his character as much as I thought I did... No particular reason, or anything 🫣

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), smut

Word Count: 3k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GRAVES MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the most delicate, but he tries, and that’s what matters.

Very cocky after sex, but that doesn’t diminish him from making sure his partner is alright (a glass of water, a caress of the reddened marks forming, etc.) Most common with him, some harmless jokes coming from his lips at your expense, all while he’s fixing the stray strands of hair he messed up in the process.

[ ❝ i’m not laughing at you, just couldn’t resist that look on your face, sweetheart ❞ ]

[ ❝ you’re not all shy now, are you? ❞ ]

In terms of actual aftercare, he would keep it short and sweet, handing you clothing items sent flying minutes before. Despite just doing the deed, Graves would turn his back and allow you to redress yourself, no matter how silly the gesture seemed in comparison to what he’d just done to you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself—not a body part, but his cheek scar. He thinks it makes him look super sexy, and definitely shows it off in photos. When he first met his S/O, he was practically crossing his fingers that they would ask about it, so he could heavily embellish its origin.

On a partner—an ass man through and through, no matter his partner's figure. His fingers roam constantly, resting on your hips and sliding downwards until he can cup it. It’s not always sexual, either, sometimes he just somewhere to rest his hands on you.

Just how many times did he ogle it before you two even said a word to one another? An embarrassing amount… And after there’s an established relationship? He doesn’t even try to hide it unless he’s around his coworkers.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s no secret, he likes cumming inside the most when he’s allowed.

But even if he is, there’s one place he likes even more—the chest. Whether his partner is fem or masc., he likes when it drips from their cleavage/sternum all the way down to the in between your thighs. It’s like his own personal way of marking his S/O, an he pictures when he needs a quick fantasy.

And there’s definitely a lot of it. Like, a lot. Sometimes, he wonders how there’s any left for the second round.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

(W/ prior consent, duh) Perhaps it’s his southern upbringing, his religious guilt for having such an “impure” fantasy. But a mix of corruption kink + bimbofication is his dirty secret—a partner whos clueless when it comes to sex, but also when he’s flirting with them, batting their lashes and fussing over their appearance. One where he can be their first, one where he has to explain each thing he’s doing, to talk the brainless partner through it, etc…

[ ❝ I bet you’ve never even touched yourself… ❞ ]

[ ❝ touch yourself, right there… keep going. ❞ ]

[ ❝ you never done this before, hm? Does that feel good? ❞ ]

Even if he does this “roleplay” with a partner that’s not sexually inexperienced, or has a personality completely opposite to the one in the fantasy… if they’re willing to play the role, to let him indulge in it, he’d melt.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He definitely wasn’t always good at it, the man-whore lifestyle grew on him (lmao)

Years in the service, most of his intimacy was hookups, until he advanced through the ranks enough to mature and reserve more time for his romantic life. Though those serious relationships often fell apart, he gained a lot of skills from them—sexually, not with his communication.

By no means, is he a sex God, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know exactly what to do. As clueless as he is when it comes to nuisance or social cues, when intimacy is involved, Graves is surprisingly adaptable.

You didn’t like that, but you loved this? We’ll never do that other thing again, then—that type of attitude.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary—I mean, look at him. But that doesn’t mean it's not a stimulating experience; not at all. His partner’s legs would be as spread and controlled as he wanted them to be. His absolute favorite variation would be one leg up on his shoulder, the other hooked around his waist, that way both parties get the best angle, and he can keep a firm hand on his S/O’s thigh.

Cowgirl (+ reverse)—Adores it, probably would choose it every time if he didn’t enjoy switching things up so much. He has a full view of his S/O, all his favorite parts on display, whether they are facing him or not—and his hands can roam. Fingers dig into thighs, light smacks on their backside, gripping the chin to force a kiss, probably all in a matter of seconds.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tries so hard to be a hardass, but it doesn’t suit him.

Sure, if there’s some roleplay involved, he can play that serious, dominant part with ease. But, casual intimacy with a partner? There’s a grimace on his face, or he’s chuckling at your reactions to his movements, whispering little lighthearted comments.

Being serious all day long has its downsides, so why not have a little fun… while having the other kind of fun? ;)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed, but not bald down there.

His hair doesn’t grow very thick, or very rapidly, so it’s relatively simple for him to keep it contained. The hair that is down there is super short, more like a short, blonde stubble.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Quite romantic, when the mood is right. A special day for you two, or a good day in general? He’s especially tender.

But I don’t get the feeling he would take too much time with his S/O… it’s not in his nature. There wouldn’t be candles or music, or rose petals, but his charming words and skilled hands would make up for any lack of showiness.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Probably has a strict routine, to do it every morning or every night, purely to relieve the stresses of his job, as opposed to pleasure. Sometimes, he’ll do it just to get to sleep that night, or when he’s deployed for months at a time and misses his S/O.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Crying kink: most arousing if his S/O wears eye makeup and it's ruined by the time he’s done, running down their cheeks from the tears brimming. Though he wouldn’t do it often, there might be some pain inflicted to induce the tears (w/ prior consent).

Dumbification kink: heavy on this one, because he knows he’s doing something right. Once his partner is unable to form sentences or let out sounds too loud to properly respond to him, it’s a rush to his ego. Though he likes verbal feedback, hell, even a conversation in the middle of sex, them being too deep in their own pleasure to speak is a turn-on for him.

Breath play (receiving): to put it bluntly, he’s too terrified to try this on a partner, for fear of hurting them. But to be choked by his S/O, or the air restricted in some other way, it’s definitely a lowkey turn-on for him. But, somehow he still remains in charge, all while gasping for air.

Breeding kink: quite vocal about this one, and he wants kids someday, so why not? (w/ prior consent) When not involving the whole pregnancy aspect, it’s just a pretty sight to look at for him—the aftermath of it oozing out and down his partner’s thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s quite picky with his locations. Bed or car, those are his two most common places, anywhere else is pretty rare for him. Of course, there would be some sex in his office once in a blue moon, but that’s about as far as he would go.

Bed—there’s way more opportunity for movement, less strain on each other’s bodies, and it’s somewhere you’re both familiar with. On the plus side, it’s much easier to strip and change the sheets, rather than sanitize an odd location after the deed.

Car—(Just look at him, he has a pickup truck. Don’t fight me on this) It’s purely his own fantasy, fucking his partner in his truck, especially when he’s on the move, or Graves simply couldn’t wait until you made it home. Definitely would keep a hand on your thigh during the drive, or if he was hinting at some car sex, it would slowly tease until you cave.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Visual teasing turns him on the most because he wants the smooth (or dirty 👀) talking to be left to him.

Most commonly, and most unbeknownst to you, when you’re busy with a task while wearing one of his shirts. (filling the dryer, placing a dish in the dishwasher, even just scrolling on your phone while bent over the counter). Even when fully clothed, it gets him, but most of all if you’re only wearing underwear underneath his shirt. Better yet, if you’re wearing nothing at all.

And he doesn’t always act on these motivations, sometimes he can’t because he’s halfway out the door. Other times, he just wants to savor the image as long as possible, to release the pent-up sexual frustration later, when it had all day to simmer.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There’s a lot he would do for his partner, but anything involving weapons, genuine pain, he won’t do it. If his partner wanted to roleplay, say some dub-con, he would do it just for them.

But full-on non-con, no preparation, no reciprocation, even if it’s just an act? He’s not into it. It’s not just vocal reassurances he needs, it’s physical—his partner touching him, wetness, begging, etc. He won’t be satisfied unless he can physically see them want it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving—an acquired taste for him, because he was once very inexperienced and awkward about it. It was never something that grossed him out or something he refused, but he was more worried about not doing it properly, despite how much his partner might be receptive to it. To make up for it, he always uses his hands at the same time, a sure way to make it pleasurable, just in case his tongue isn’t enough. Once he gets going though, once he learns every little sweet spot, he’s not coming up for air until he thinks the time is right.

Receiving—hear me out; I don’t think he enjoys getting head nearly as much as the average man. Of course, he would indulge himself if his partner was willing, perhaps wanting it every so often, but I feel it’s a rarity for him. When he does, he’s surprisingly gentle, only guiding his partner's head a small amount, and he prefers if the pace is slow and sloppy. He wouldn’t force you to your knees, bruise your throat, or yank your hair, not unless it was a fantasy of yours, of course.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Shockingly, he’s quite rough and fast, despite how unadorned his preferences are. In the act’s entirety, his pace is quick and rough, but not painful. He starts slow, but after being given any look of approval, he goes his usual unrelenting pace, all while his hands remain delicate. If his partner enjoys the fast pace, it’s perfect, and he would go until his body couldn’t.

If not: Once he’s gotten his climax, or he’s satisfied himself, he’s willing to go slower in favor of his partner’s pleasure, and only theirs. In fact, it’s almost immediately after he finishes—he doesn’t remove himself but slows himself to ensure his S/O will be just as satisfied. Slow, but deep thrusts no matter the position, just until they’ve finished.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He has a love/hate dynamic with quickies.

Little “joyrides” where he parks abruptly and has his way? Can’t get enough of it, and it’s merely a recurring fantasy. The same as, a quickie before he leaves for work? Finds it incredibly sexy if his partner stops him just before he’s out the door.

But, when his work is in the way of taking all the time he wants with you? That’s when he yearns for more time with his S/O, to get things done properly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not often, unless you were really adamant about trying something new or risky. He’s pretty set in his ways, and he already knows what he likes.

[ ❝ you would like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll remember that… ❞ ]

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

A few rounds, give or take.

He’s at his peak stamina when it’s been a while since you two had sex.

Besides, he’ll say he’s ❝ pacing himself ❞ when in actuality, he wants to make his partner need him, especially if they get desperate enough to outright ask for more. It’s a boost to his ego, it’s arousing, and you’ve affirmed his skills, all in one.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

During sex, he probably wouldn’t use them on his partner, unless they really, truly wanted him to. What better, than making them finish with only parts of his body? But if you want to add a toy to the mix, he’s not going to stop you, either.

Graves would be pretty clueless when it comes to toys, having never used one on himself or a partner. He’d be especially shocked if his S/O had their own already, but it’s not a threat—it’s a turn-on, for him to think about, how they satisfy themselves when it’s not him doing it. Deep down, he wants you to send him pictures using them, or suggestive messages when he’s away for months at a time.

To put it simply—he would rather visualize you using them solo, as opposed to him doing it to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Outside of sex, as an act of foreplay or verbal teasing? He could do it all day; snide remarks to get his S/O needy touches that only last seconds, a suggestive noise/phrase coming out of his mouth like it's nothing.

[ ❝ Fuck… ❞ ] he practically moans it, waiting for the moan to draw you in, then: [ ❝ …this dinner is amazing ❞ ]

But as soon as you’re undressed in front of him? He wouldn’t be able to stand his own teasing for long, because all he wants is to get down to business. He would rather hear his partner finish, than whine when deprived of it, if that makes sense.

To be frank, he’s probably needier than any of his partners, always wanting to be bottomed out and making them feel the same pleasure he is.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Doesn’t look like it, but he’s quite vocal. Often similar to the intro of this video (Not p^rn, just a tiktok edit, I promise).

It’s constant talking, sometimes praise, other times he’s having a conversation with you in between his grunts. When he’s close, they become more drawn out and low, though his pace is only quickening.

[ ❝ almost there, sweetheart. Then I’ll do it again, just for you. ❞ ]

[ ❝ so sexy… and just for me. ❞ ]

[ ❝ love hearing you enjoy yourself like this, honey. ❞ ]

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This might be a strange one, but bear with me.

He secretly loves being on medical-leave, stuck at home and laid up, (not seriously injured), because he loves being fussed over deep down. Who doesn’t love soup brought to your bedside, extra cuddles at night… and a few favors ;) to ❝ ease his pain ❞

Plus, he doesn’t have to worry about getting up early and leaving you the next day, so your favor could go on for quite awhile…

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Body type: He’s lean and toned, but heavily defined. Relatively hairless on his chest, and back, even his happy trail isn’t very noticeable. Graves doesn’t look like someone with that much muscular definition, until he flexes or exerts himself.

In the pants: Above average in size, but not overly girthy, and it naturally curves upward very slightly. 2.5” IN girth, 4” IN when soft—6.8” IN when hard.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Quite high when he’s around his partner because they’re there to reciprocate it. But, surprisingly low when he’s away. He’s truly too stressed and exhausted to be thinking about sex, only does when he gets morning wood or has to relieve some of that tension by himself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Doesn’t sleep much as it is, and he seems like the type to not sleep after sex.

The pillow talk continues, even if his partner’s eyes have drooped shut and they’re not listening to a word he’s saying. Head on his chest, or vice versa, talking about how good it was or probably telling some funny story about when he got stranded in the desert.

[ ❝ you’re better than I deserve, lettin’ me do that to you. ❞ ]

Sometimes, he’ll go back to his paperwork mere minutes after, a small apology escaping his lips when he does so. [ ❝ sorry, darlin’ ❞ ] or if the act was cut short, he’s not opposed to keeping one of his unoccupied hands on you (take that how you want).

#task force 141 #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #task force 141 x reader #shadow company #phillip graves #commander graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #phillip graves x you #modern warefare ii

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the-laughing-lunatic · 7 months ago

Note

hii! hope it’s not too much trouble, but maybe reader x scout, reader x engie, and reader x sniper - (established relationships with the mercs and reader) the reader doesn’t seem to be very happy lately - something bad that happened earlier in the week must’ve reminded reader of their past. (i really like your posts btw, you’re genuinely a really good writer)

(ahhhhh thx sm! I tried to make it as vague as possible so I hope you like it. Thx for requesting! p.s. I'm workin thru the rest of rqs soon bc school is wrapping up, so rqs may be back open soon :3)

Scout, Engie, and Sniper w/ a reader who was reminded of their past (ROMANTIC)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☆Scout☆

He feels like something’s off, but doesn’t know what

He wants to try to talk to you about it, ask if you’re alright and everything but he’s never been one for initiating that kind of emotional talk

When he finds you crying in your room though, he feels his heart break that he didn’t help you before

He scoops you up in his arms. “H- hey, doll, why’re you cryin’? Was it something I said?”

(He can’t help but still be a little insecure, you’re the first person he’s dated after all and he wants to do everything right for you)

If you don’t want to talk about it he’ll hold you and go on about how much he loves you so you don’t have to deal with silence

“You’re so perfect, doll, it kills me to see you like this, y’know, watchin’ tears roll down that pretty face of yours. Wish ya never felt the need to cry baby, I love you so goddamn much-”

Yeah he’s crying too, he can’t help it

If you do tell him he’d listen intently

He’d try to make you laugh so you’d stop crying, humor is his coping mechanism and he kinda projects it on you, sorry if that’s not your thing :/

He’ll make sure to give you plenty more affection a while after, youre getting spoiled as hell

☆Sniper☆

He’s not the best with emotions and all that jazz (he has the autism)

But when he finds you crying outside it hits him that something’s wrong

He sits next to you and places his hand on your shaking figure.

“You okay darl?”

“No.”

“Would you like a hug dear?”

“Please.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to him, barely any space between the two of you.

He rubs circles into your back until your crying has settled down. “...you wanna talk about it now, love?”

If you don’t he’ll stay with you and idly trace shapes into your hand, letting you cry it out

If you do tell him he’ll nod empathetically “Oh, love,” he sighs, tilting your chin up to look at the night sky above you two

“Think ‘bout it this way. All those stars up there? The light we see from em’ now is from ages ago, but the actual bloody stars have completely different light. And jus’ because we can see the light, don’t actually mean that it’s here anymore. Bugger, I’m shit at metaphors. Point is, that’s in the past, an’ even though you might think ‘bout it sometimes its still in the past. And I love ya.”

☆Engineer☆

Notices something’s off immediately, he’s a smart guy after all

Once you two are alone he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and ask you “Are you alright?” in that sweet voice that just makes you burst out into tears

Pats your back and hugs you as you cry “Shh, it’s alright sugar, it’s alright. You wanna talk about it?”

If you don’t want to he’ll scoop you up in his arms (but I’m taller than- yes. He can pick you up too) and get you some warm food

“Y’know, my momma said that a good hot meal is the best after bawlin’ your eyes out. We don’t exactly got anything you’d call a meal right now, but I can fix you up some toast with cinnamon if you'd like, honeybee.”

If you do tell him he’ll reassure you that everything okay

“Honey, I know the past ain’t really ever somethin’ that leaves, but you gotta remember things are alright right now. Stuff from back then can’t getcha, sure it hurts sometimes but you gotta remember things are good right now. And I’m here for you.”

Gives you so many kisses

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #scout tf2 #scout tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 #engineer tf2 x reader #fanfiction #x reader

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glozzavid · 3 months ago

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Imagine Wimp Choso Kano

W!!Choso who’s two years into being a legal adult and has had zero romantic interactions but somehow got a date with you, and has been trying to prepare the best date (having never been on one himself) for you because he’s still reeling over the fact you know he exists.

W!Choso who has spent the day of the date hyping himself up and mentally preparing himself only for his parents to unannounced and unexpectedly drop of his younger brother Yuji, before leaving no other information. Him having no other choice but to bring his elevan year old brother to his first date. Having to deal with Yuji constant teasing on the drive to the park Café, “So she’s real, right? We talked about how anime girls don’t count-”

W!Choso's eye twitched at Yuji's comment, feeling his irritation spike.

“Shut up, I told you that in confidence!!” he huffed, his face still flushed with embarrassment.

He hadn’t wanted to admit to his younger brother that he occasionally got emotional over fictional characters, but Yuji had caught him off guard at a vulnerable moment.

“And I don’t even do that anymore!” he added defensively, even though he absolutely still did.

“So you're actually going out with someone? I thought you were going to be a lonely forever!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with amazement and amusement.

Him having to deal with Yuji giving him ‘pointers’ and telling him he’d show him how to truly charm, “A lady who is in a higher bracket in every sense than you.”

When they make it to the Café they both spot you in a cute light blue sundress, soft smile on your lips as you sit at a table outside.

“That girl willing agreed to go on a date with you? Is this a blind date that’s actually blind?”

W!Choso fighting the urge to smack the kid behind the head and repeatedly telling him to behave. As they walk up, before he can explain Yuji presence, the pinkette walks up to you, pushing his brother aside, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles before saying:

“On shon tay, and what is the name of this fallen angel that has blessed me with her beauty?”

He says suave and smirked, giving you a gapped tooth grin.

W!Chose who’s regretting not just having cancelled the date, “Please, ignore him. I try to.”

but immediately relived when you wave it off with laughter, explaining you also have younger siblings and get it.

W!Choso presently surprised how well the date was going, despite Yuji trying to insert himself into the conversation with an (attempted) flirt, but yet you managed to acknowledged both Yuji and remain focus on him and the conversation.

W!Choso admiring the way the setting sun reflected on your skin, giving you an ethereal glow, and the way the sundress gracefully highlighted your figure. Suddenly wondering if most people kiss at the end of the date, or if he’s thinking five dates ahead… what were the societal norms in dates?? Then his gaze following to your lips, seeing as they always were curved into a pleasing grin. Wondering if the gloss you wore had a flavor to it, and what it would taste like on his own…

W!Choso who’s carrying a tired Yuji in his arms back to his car at the end of the date, you happily accompanying them, to say farewell.

“Thanks, again, for being so… understanding about Yuji. I know it was last minute.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was fun.” You say leaning against the door of your car, “Maybe next time I can bring my sister, and have a playdate-date.” You say teasing.

But W!Choso only picked up on the words ‘next time’, meaning that you actually wanted to see him again after this and he didn’t completely mess up the date, and feeling his face heat up with a rouge tint over his cheeks. Suddenly remembering he had to speak, he mutters, “Oh, uhm yeah, I’d love that.”

He’s very much in love, and goes home picturing the color scheme for the tables for your guys’s wedding.

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

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ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ: ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ 'ᴛɪʟ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋʙᴜʀɴᴇʀ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: Jake struggles to adapt with the way being next to you is making him feel.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), (a little) smut at the end

wc: 6.1k words

a/n: umm, hi there?? do you remember me? i know it's been such a long time and I am so so sorry, but I am backkk besties!!! i am so happy to finally be able to complete chapter two and I hope you enjoy because it's quickly picking up pace. i really hope this isn't garbage, i'm so so out of practice and so insecure about my writing, but i still hope you are able to understand and enjoy this, because i am so excited to finally be back writing.

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, paskalin - sweet berry (term of endearment)

series masterlist (x)

Maybe I'm just not better than this, I haven't tried Maybe life's less romantic when I don't wanna die You'd think I'd be a fast learner But guess I won't ever mind crisping up on your backburner

Jake has always felt comfortable in nature. Even back on Earth, the comfort of a bed was a luxury mostly lost on him throughout his life. It was peaceful, and comforting, feeling the ground beneath his feet, beneath his skin, malleable and nurturing, like a warm embrace. It was a given here, with the connection the Na’vi had with the world around them, with the forest surrounding them, that he would become one with it, too, that he would find solace in it. He did, most days. Just not tonight, as he lay on the slightly damp surface with an arm underneath his head for support, trying to find meaning in the stars that were still so beautiful and bright they took his breath away, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and his wandering thoughts.

What was that? This whole day, that conversation that was still ringing in his ears like an insipid echo, making sweat bead on his forehead and trickle down his temples, until they were one with the soil. Why would you say that? What possessed him to confide in you about parts of his life he forsook, he gave up what felt like eternities ago?

He’s never truly noticed you before. The shy, timid girl who was far too attuned to others’ feelings to be able to overlook the disdain still present in some members’ of the clan when it came to anything human, always holed up in that lab he hated, that was at odds with everything he’s come to known and too much like everything he was trying his best to leave behind. It used to be different back then, when you were young, just a child craving connection and companionship, always tied to the hip to his eldest son, Neteyam, where Spider always took more to his two middle children. Par for the course, he thought. You and Neteyam were much alike, and somehow still managed to complement each other well, at the same time. He used to think you’d be good for him, back then. Not that he’d ever tell Neytiri that, the seemingly blasphemous idea, but yes - he thought that, even before you got an Avatar. But now, the thought made him uneasy - queasy, even. It wouldn’t be right. Your relationship would be frowned upon, and the Omaticaya would never look at you and see the future Tsa’hik that’s meant to lead them, to interpret their deity’s way. You were too fragile, too tuned in to your own and others’ emotions to be able to overcome it, and it would break you. Being with Neteyam would break you.

The night was torturous and slow, so many thoughts eating away at him like a disease. By the time Eclipse passed, he was ready for this trip to be over. Being here with you alone wasn’t good, he realises now. It was a mistake, to talk to you, to look into your eyes, to notice you. Because now that he did, he couldn’t stop. The way your Avatar body twitched in sleep, the way he couldn’t help wonder what you were doing in your human body - were you sleeping, like you should be? Was this on your mind, this night, the same way it was his? Were you cramming everything you once used to do in a day in the few hours you had in your now secondary body?

“Oh, kid. You better know how to fix this better than I do.”

“Is the Avatar safe?”

Norm trusted Jake with his life, and still, he knew he had to ask. The scientist in him, the Avatar program leader de facto, he’s always taken every responsibility, every chance to prove himself to the Na’vi and to his late mentor, Grace Augustine, very seriously. And that included taking care of you. You were not his blood, but you were his family, and he wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be alright. And so when Jake suggested getting some much needed tutelage, he was happy to wait until the night to hear all about it.

“You know it is.”

“How did it go?”

“Well, I think. He was right, I guess. I definitely feel a bit more comfortable outside of the village, of all the prying eyes.”

“Amazing. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m… not sure. I think… I overstepped.” The blush in your cheeks and eyes glued to your fiddling feet made Norm’s brown eyebrow rise, a small grimace mirroring the one marring your beautiful, soft features. Still, he placed a hand on your head, gently brushing the stray hairs that were raised from the hours of being in the cryocapsule.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He… told me about his life on earth. About his father, and I… made a comment. I have no idea how he reacted to it, but now that I’m here, I have no chance to fix it.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as bad as you think. We always tend to overthink in our heads, and, as humans, we always tend to see the worst in ourselves. You, more than most.”

After helping you out, making sure you were settled on your wobbly, weak knees, he gave your shoulder a small squeeze and left to his quarters, but not before telling you one last thing.

“I think someone overstepping once in a while is exactly what a man who’s always obeyed needs. Go to sleep, love.”

The next morning, you felt dizzy as you woke up in the forest, slight groan audible with every stretch that allowed your sore muscles to loosen. You weren’t surprised to see Jake already up, busying himself with gutting a fish which would most likely constitute your breakfast. You gulped at the sight of him, veiny arms expertly handling the animal, his relaxed postured at odds with the slight frown on his face. Was that because of you? Was he mad at you? What possessed you to talk to him like he was a friend and not the Toruk Makto, the mighty Olo’eyktan? What possessed you to confess about an old crush, that died with your innocence about the world, about the same time you finally started to notice how the Omatikaya, particularly Neytiri, have looked at you all your life.

“Um, good morning.”

His eyes flickered over to you, lingering for a second longer than they needed to on your golden eyes before turning back swiftly, and the expression he adorned, a mixed between shame, guilt and desire, would have been obvious to anyone with more life experience, but not to you. Still, you noticed the blush in his cheeks, and couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in your chest at what… or whom, might be the cause of it.

“‘Morning, kid. D’you sleep well?”

“I guess. You?”

“One of us have to stay up and keep an eye out for predators, you know. Can’t have you get eaten before I’m done teaching you how to defend yourself.” His smile was teasing, and if it was an effort to put your mind at ease, you did appreciate it. It made what you had to say next come out easier.

“Listen, Jake… what I said last night… it was none of m-“

“It’s alright, kid. It’s been a while since anyone’s contradicted me, apart from my wife, so…” his laugh was rugged and unforced, and you couldn’t help join in at the sonorous melody that rang in your ears and all of a sudden couldn’t imagine being without.

“So you don’t hate me?”

Jake’s eyes settled on your own, but not before flickering to your parted lips, so focused and eager, you were clinging on to his every word, waiting desperately to be put out of your misery.

“No, kid. I don’t hate you.”

Jake didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know one thing: it was just a stupid conundrum, nothing more. He didn’t feel anything for you, he was just taken aback by someone who seemed to be a lot more intuitive and incisive about someone’s inner workings than he gave you credit for. But that’s it. Just because you talked about something he cared about, that nobody asked him about, just because he confessed to you feelings he hasn’t said out loud in more than 24 years… that didn’t mean anything. He had a mate. A mate he loved, a mate he was sworn to forever. He had a family, children, a life. It was nothing. So he did his duty and helped you, keeping a safe distance and the conversation to a minimum, outside of instructions he ought to give you. Still, despite his apprehensions, being with you was easy. You were docile and listened well, you were quiet and kept to yourself, and, in the moments you did talk, there was a pureness, a light to your heart that made his own feel lighter.

“Good form. Now focus on the target and, when you’re ready…”

He watched as the arrow flew at high speed and travelled the length of the forest until it hit the ground next to a tree marked with an X - a makeshift target, but it did the job.

“Release.”

“Sorry.” Your ashamed disposition was as clear as day on your face and in your body language, and the purple twinge in your cheeks brought forth the luminosity of your tanhi and he hated himself for noticing it to begin with.

“Don’t be. You did well. Just make sure you draw all the way back before releasing. The target’s a bit narrower than you’re used to, so you’re doing well.”

His eyes softened taking you in. A sigh reverberated from deep within his chest and he said the words before he could stop himself, fully knowing he might regret them later.

“Let’s focus on your tracking instead for a little while. A change of scenery might do you well.”

He knew he should leave the tracking skills for back to the village, for someone else to teach you. He should just hurry back home - to his life, to his wife, to the normalcy he’s both craving and desperately afraid of. Any extra time spent with you is time where he could talk and say something, confess something else that is better left unsaid, fall prey to your uncanny ability to see through him, to will out words he hasn’t even realised he’s been dying to say out loud.

The ground was wet and cold, accentuated by the heavy moisture surrounding you. it still took getting used to, the air, breathing it in and out, like you were born to do so, such a colossal departure from the mask that covered your face for most of 23 years of your life. Still, it was a blessing, and one you made sure to appreciate with every breath you took. You forgot a little about it, all the gratitude, as the air felt particularly dense and thick as you took it in, as the man you now called mentor crawled skilfully like a steady, stealthy apex predator, little to no evidence of his presence other than the hand that was rested carefully on the small of your back, sending bouts of electricity all throughout your body. His voice was quiet as he spoke it near your ear, a velvet shroud that enveloped you and stirred something in you, something primal and carnal, something you’ve never felt before. What was happening to you? What was he doing to you?

“Lower, kid. The lower you are to the ground, the fainter your scent, the easier to hide.”

“I-it’s… hard.”

You could hear his smirk as he answered your quiet protestation, and you wondered whether he found it endearing or irksome, praying and hoping with as much power as you still had left in you that it was the former.

“I know, girl. Guess we’ll have to train those abs for more core strength, huh?”

You were happy your back was to him so he couldn’t see the violent blush haunting your cheeks, but even so, there was little you could do about your rampant heart or your heaving breath.

“I can hear your heartbeat like it’s echoing through the whole forest. And if I can, every other animal on a half a click radius can, too. You have to learn to calm your mind. Can you do that for me?”

Although what he was asking of you seemed impossible, considering his touch set your body and soul ablaze and your mind’s already erratic rumination seemed to reach an incandescent high, you tried, and although every muscle in your body hurt and ached, much like the first few times you allowed yourself to train in this body, you did as you were told, and, by early afternoon, you managed to track a pack of Yarik without even as much of a perk of the ear to give you away. You remember still, those early days, like they were happening to you now, as you stood here, in your bedroom, as the tears blurred the familiar space, the rock you were holding so tightly in your hand that it was cutting through your palm until all that inundated your sight was a watercolour red stain. You should have known then. What would follow. When he touched you, how it made you feel, you should have known to stay away. Norm once told you life, especially in your 20s, was about the joys and miseries of growing pains, but if you knew, how the journey was full of polarising extremes that pulled at every fibre of your being, how the high was insurmountable, but the pain was unbearable, maybe you would have thought twice before jumping in.

You wonder if he knew, then. If he felt it, too. You wonder if he realised that this was the beginning of the end, if the pull you felt was the same one that drove him to what came after, to all he ended up putting on the line. You wondered if it was all a ploy, getting you alone, or if he truly just wanted to help, innocent and undiscerning, just a dutiful Olo’eyktan. You thought you knew his heart, and how much it hid and how much it hurt, you thought you came to know it all through all this time, but as the bleeding in your heart mirrored your gashing palm, you weren’t sure anymore.

“Come.”

The Yarik were all gone now, unfrightened by your unassuming presence, which you took as a win. Still, you almost flinched when his now much louder voice rang above the quiet murmur of the forest.

“Where?”

“You worked hard today, so you deserve a break. And I know just the spot.”

Jake wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, what he was about to do, but he knew you needed something to break apart the times of pain and struggle. It was something he’s learnt, being here, on Pandora, as one of the people, that there was more to life than duty, than sacrifice and pain, then the daily struggle of fitting in, of pitching in, of simply existing. You had to live life, face it, enjoy it. And he wanted you to have that, especially now. He understood, more than most, what it was like to be inhibited and trapped to a space or a time, paralysed, literally or figuratively to your immutable circumstance. For him, it was his legs, trapping him in a body he hated and couldn’t recognise, in habits he took on just like the soldier he’s always been, because there was nothing else he could do. For you, it was your human body, that confined you to the lab, to a mask, to a life that could never be experienced fully, until now. So, despite a small part, probably the logical part of his mind, telling him he should just keep the training going or go home, he decided to share with you a place he found while hunting for food last night. And when he saw your face as you took it in, all doe-eyed and bushy tailed, ears twitching enthusiastically and a beautiful, innocent smile taking over your whole face, he knew he made the right call. He found his own smile brewing without being able to contain it, your joy so contagious, it was like the whole world shone just a little brighter than it had a few minutes ago.

“Jake… I love it. Thank you.”

The roar of the waterfall crashing on the otherwise peaceful lake almost drowned your words, and he laughed at the way you were tentatively approaching the water, as if scared that the caress of it on your skin might hurt your already aching muscles.

“Good. Let’s see how you like it up close.”

And with that, and a gentle tap on your shoulder, a loud splash ensued where you hit the water. He laughed yet again at the way you emerged from it, wet and startled and almost as if you could not believe what just happened.

“I-I… you… I cannot believe you did that!”

He couldn’t help how much fun it was, doing this, being with you - it was as if for the first time in ages, in decades, being alive was fun again. It was as if this forest was completely separated from his own, from what was waiting for him back home, the unsurmountable pressure that plagued him every second of every day, especially since the humans returned.

“Believe it, kid. You need to learn to let loose once in a while, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but seemed intrigued by his preposition.

“I will if you will.”

And so he did. And for the next few hours, life was easygoing and fun, and spending time in your presence felt like coming out for a deep breath when it felt like he’d been drowning. He’s learnt you didn’t really know how to swim, and that the first song you’ve ever learnt on piano was one you deeply related to, that he’s made you promise you’d sing to him, and he found out plenty of small things, but nothing important, or of substance. It was clear to him more and more you loved being the one asking the questions and never the one answering them, and, soon enough, here you were again, curious as a cat about things nobody else was when it came to him.

“Did you ever expect it?” the sun was still shining brightly upon you both, warming your strong, supple bodies as you floated in the otherwise cold water. Eclipse wasn’t too far behind, but right now, neither of you particularly seemed to care.

“What’s that?” You continued floating, looking intently at the sky - focused or too embarrassed to look at him, Jake couldn’t really tell.

“Everything. What you did, what happened. Did you ever expect it, when you were offered a place on a shuttle to Pandora?” Once again, Jake was taken aback by your propensity of asking deep, profound, intimate questions like you were asking about the weather. He wondered briefly if you realised that that’s not how most people talked.

“No… I didn’t. I didn’t care, about the job or the mission. I cared about the money. And later, about the chance to get my legs back.”

“Do you ever miss it? Being… normal.”

“I was given a second chance - a purpose bigger than me, bigger than the measly life I left behind. I -“ this finally got your attention, and for the first time since your first question, you adjusted your position in the water so that you were fully facing him, inquiring eyes like beads of light and focus, intent on taking in every expression, every shift in mood, every slight adjustment of his face. You tried again, this time more forceful and intense, this time almost demanding of his full attention.

“That wasn’t my question. It’s a privilege, and an honour, to be who you are…”

He struggled as he always did to stifle a roll of his eyes and the speech he’s heard a million times before, from his wife, or his Tsa’hik, from every villager of the Omatikaya, from every other tribe leader he’s ever met through diplomatic missions. The answer he always kept at the ready was caught in his throat, because you kept going.

“…but I’m sure it’s also tiring, and hard. And lonely. So do you ever miss it? Do you ever wish things could go back to the way they were? Do you ever wish you didn’t have to be there for everybody all the time?”

He looked at you, pleading, not knowing whether he needed you to stop or keep going, only knowing it hurt, being torn at the seams like that between two choices that both led to heartbreak and epiphanies he wasn’t ready to face nor strong enough to deal with on his own, especially right now.

“Kid…”

“I went too far again, didn’t I? What is wrong with me?”

The attempt to get out of the lake was swiftly overthrown by his much stronger physique keeping you in place, caging you in between the edge of the lake and his muscular arms. Jake wasn’t an emotional man, he wasn’t one to be overcome with feelings that could cloud his judgement, that could interfere with a plan of action and yet, standing there, in that moment, your wide golden eyes looking fearfully and surprisedly up at him, the rapid pulse of your heart clearly visible in your carotid artery running up your neck, he felt his mind clouded and his own heart trembling with the overwhelming, unexpected urge to taste you, to feel those lips crashing over his, your tongues intertwined, his fingers wander in wondrous places he was sure no one else had before. He needed you, like he’s scarcely ever needed anything else, like he rarely ever allowed himself to. But you weren’t his, you never would be. And this was wrong and immoral, and it didn’t matter - that you seemed to be able to see right through him, that everything you said cut like a knife through all the bullshit and pretence, that your pupils were so wide they were swallowing the golden of your irises, that he could feel that you wanted it too. None of it mattered.

“You didn’t go too far. You just… see things. And ask things, no one else ever does. And it scares me, kid. You scare the shit out of me.”

“Me? I’m nothing. I’m… just a girl.”

“You’re everything.”

It was then you knew, that the crush was not a crush, it was so much more, too much more. It was then you knew you were heading for a potentially life-altering, life-ending fall that would break all your bones and leave you tethered on the ground, shattered and broken, unable to ever be put back together the same. And so you tried. You broke the moment that felt eternal, even though it pained you, to know at some point he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he had been then, and asked him to go home. You were quiet and compliant all the way back, and he made it easier on you by a performance of the same caliber. You didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse, that the moment clearly affected him too, enough that both of you looked like dogs with their tails between their tails as you arrived back in the village, without having spoken another word to the other, without as much as risking a glance in the other’s direction.

It was for the best. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could come of entertaining this little troubled happenstance, and truth be told, you couldn’t wait for your life to get back to normal, where he barely spoke to you and you were free to withdraw within yourself the way you knew you had to in order to heal. You were able to get over your mindless crush once before, and you were certain to be able to do it again, especially given you would had the perfect opportunity in the annual clan celebration that you had come just in time for.

“How was it?” Neteyam was quietly hopeful about your trip with his dad, eager to be able to call you one of the People as soon as he possible could. Any effort to aid that, to allow you closer to a life he knew you deserve and knew you could make your own, was beneficial and encouraged in his mind. You loved Neteyam, and appreciate him for who he was and what he meant to you - a brother, a best friend, a confidant. You told him most things and yet, some things were just too ugly to share, and so you didn’t. Some things were better off swept under the rug, praying the lump they made was not big enough to trip on.

“Great. I think he was right, being away from all the prying eyes helped. Guess I’ll just have to show you tomorrow. Who knows? I might even be better than the mighty warrior soon, eh?”

He threw his head back and laughed, and you joined in his joy, already feeling better just being away from him, leisurely walking trough the village and helping out with anyone who needed a hands for tonight’s celebration.

“Dream on, paskalin. Although, you could show me what you learnt tonight, and maybe even win a prize in the knife throwing contest. Better than sulk all night in a corner the way I know you’re itching to do.”

“Actually, I wasn’t planning on doing that. Not tonight.”

“Oh?” You wish you hadn’t said that, because you should have realised Neteyam would be curious and it was a subject you didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone about, especially a man, a beautiful, glorious, obviously-experienced one, such as your best friend.

“I just mean, it’s time, you know? To try to live my life. Maybe even find someone with whom to share it with.”

“Y-you mean… like a mate?”

Neteyam looked taken aback by your confession, so much so that he stopped in the middle of the path, making two children bump into his legs and fall down behind him. It took a lot to make Neteyam flustered, and so you couldn’t understand why your words affected him so much. Was it so unsettling to people, the thought of an Avatar finding love on the planet that wasn’t quite home, but was the only chance at home you would ever get? Were you so repulsive as a person that the one who knew you the best thought it hard to digest that you could ever be loved by a man?

“Forget about it, Neteyam. I’ll be at the celebration, alright? I should go get ready.”

You left before you could hear his excuses or explanations - you knew you were sensitive, probably too sensitive. You knew you were probably overreacting, and his words didn’t have any malintent, and you knew he was most likely just taking a second to adjust to a new stage of your life you’ve never shared with him before. You knew all of these and more, and yet, your heart was tired and bruised, your mind a tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and misery. You needed time, time to heal, time to think. Time you didn't have, when the celebration was upon you.

You almost wanted to laugh now, months after that night happened, at how stupid you had been that night, how desperate and pathetic. You knew about some Na'vi, certain warriors who loved the idea of humans, of experimenting with them, of using them. You've heard the stories, you've seen the scientists coming back to the lab with them, you've been around when they talked about how good it was, how necessary the release, how passionate and life-changing the experience. In your head, that was exactly what you needed then: some sex with some random Na'vi who wanted to show you a good time, help you forget about the one you really wanted. It wasn't hard enough to find one that night, especially after you won your prize in the knife throwing competition, when the warmth of liquid courage was still embedded deep within your throat and soul, much to Neteyam's dismay. Still, the performance attracted attention, of one man in particular you cared about. Strong, 10 feet tall and muscular, he was looking at you like a meal and right then, you wanted nothing more to be devoured. You wondered what your life would have been like if that night went differently than it did. You wondered...

He barely noticed it, his wife’s touches or his clan members’ words of admiration or respect, not when the only thing his mind could focus on was the way his hand was caressing your shoulder and down your arm in gentle and intimate touches that felt too familiar for two people who have seemingly barely ever interacted before. His skin crawled at the sweet, shy smile you were sending his way and at the slight tint of purple he could see in your cheeks. You were too pure for this, Jake knew. Too pure for the intentions clear on his face that he didn’t think you fully understood, how this was all a game, a conquest, how you were a prize to be won, a trophy to be paraded around to the Na’vi who loved to brag about fucking the Avatars, the humans, the aliens. It was a game to him, and you… you weren’t a game to be played, not to Jake.

To his surprise, he realised he was angry with you. Angry that you were humouring him, that you were giving into it, that you were enjoying it. That guy was not good enough for you, and you should know that. You should know that for your first time being touched, being someone else’s, you needed someone who knew how to handle you, how to make you feel good, show you what it feels like to give in to your wildest dreams and fantasies. You needed someone to teach you. The fury bubbling just beneath the surface worried him.

You weren’t his. You were free to do as you wished, and the thoughts that plagued him as the mother of his children was sitting in his lap, perfectly unaware, were enough to pool other feelings, like guilt and shame, and form a heady concoction of emotions that he knew sooner or later would explode all around him. None of the feelings trumped the relief that washed over him as soon as he saw Lo’ak approach the two of you and break apart the scene, and right then, in that moment, Jake never felt more grateful for his troublemaker son and his propensity for meddling in other people’s business.

You looked disappointed with the interruption, slightly irked at his son and at the way the hand that was running up and down your thigh was now vacant from the spot you obviously thought it belonged on. The boy was clearly annoyed at Lo’ak, and a smirk breeched the carefully constructed expression resting on the Olo’eyktan’s face - annoyed or not, everyone knew better than to challenge one of his sons. So, with a careful goodbye, he was gone, leaving you gesticulating widely in his direction and clearly despondent with the outcome. It wasn’t long before you left for your tent, and Jake knew that if he was to survive this night, he’d have to be careful not to give in to the one thing he wished for the most in the world.

Your shower was hotter than what you were used to, hot enough to hopefully scald away the shame and embarrassment you felt now that you were sober once more. Your life seemed to be comprised mostly of those, recently, and while it was somewhat easy to forget how badly you fared in training your Avatar body once you got back to your bedroom and the safe confines of the labs, this new, fresh development lingered like a cold sore, painful whenever you remembered it. Did anyone else apart from Lo’ak see you, shamelessly flirting and allowing a Na’vi warrior to feel you up? Did everyone know how desperately you wanted someone to take you away and make you forget about the one man you actually wanted, the man who made all the other ones pale in comparison, the one man who you couldn’t have? You knew it was so wrong, how badly you craved his touch, what effect even a fleeting image of him in the back of your mind had on you, how your slick was running down your legs, how your brain couldn’t stop conjuring all the ways he could teach you how to be, how to love, how to live. How you knew his touch would ruin you and put you back together, kill you and finally bring you to life.

As you fastened your towel onto your body and opened the door to your bedroom, you were startled to find the one man you couldn't shake from your mind sitting on your bed, eyes wandering over your barely dry body.

“God, Jake, you scared me!”

You couldn't believe he was in your room, as if by thinking about him hard enough you manifested him here. He was so tall, so much bigger than you as you stood now, in your human body, frail and delicate and so easy to break. He barely fit on your bed and in your room, taking most of the walking space, so much so you struggled to adjust your position to face him properly.

“…What are you doing here?”

“What were you doing with that grunt at the party?”

You couldn't believe your ears, settling on a double take as you considered his question carefully, mulling over every word in your mind, as if doing so will finally reveal a secret meaning to it that you couldn't quite understand yet.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, kid.”

His words were dry and humourless. There was no levity to them, or to the situation, the room filled with thick tension, and for the first time in your life, you were almost...scared of him. Why did he care?

“I… he… we…”

“That’s what I thought. Why him? If you want someone to mate, I’m sure there’s better options out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

You started turning around, dizzy from the way his presence was making you feel and tired of giving him so much power to do so. You didn't manage to, though, as his large hand caught your forearm and held you in place, and when you were forcefully turned back to look at him, you saw it all. The hurt. The anger. The... betrayal. The jealousy.

“No, this isn’t how this works. You always ask questions and get me talking about shit I haven’t said out loud in decades, or ever. You’re not going shy on me now, not anymore. So why him?”

Fuck it.

“Because it’s not you, ok?! Because it can’t be you! And I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but it’s not like I have a line of men willing to mate or even be seen with a human, an alien, a sky demon. So it has to be him! That’s why.”

“Kid…”

The tears were pooling in your eyes like beaded pearls making your vision blurry, and the struggle with which you've been trying to remove yourself from his grasp finally paid off because you did it, you finally manage to break free, but it was too late. You were exhausted, and you knew it was time to lay it all on the table, once and for all, for him to know, and to disprove, for him to break your heart so you could finally move on.

“No, Jake! You’re in my head, all the time. It’s messing with my mind, the deluded reality I’ve been living in. You talk to me, and you notice me, and you give me attention. You touch me, and you look at me like…”

Soft sobs broke your words apart and let their meaning linger all around you, sounding like infinite echoes in the room. It would all be over soon.

“...Like you want me. And I know you don’t, and I know it’s not real, and it hurts me! So I need something else, I need someone else, I need someone to show me there’s other men out there, to pull me out of this nightm-“

His lips, soft and needy, not at all like you imagined them to be, ceased your pleading words before you got a chance to speak them. It took a second, just one second, for you to understand what was happening, to process the way the kiss was everything you've ever wanted and more than you've ever dreamed about, the way he was desperate and hungry for your touch, for you to reciprocate his feelings... so you did. And you melted under his touch, and before long, the whole world disappeared from view, and there were no consequences to your actions, and all you knew, all you needed... was him.

You were both panting when you finally came up for air, and all you wanted was more. More. A little more. Always more.

“Fuck, kid. You’ve got no idea how much I want you. But I’ll show you.” His hand wandered down your much smaller body, until his large fingers found the knot of your bathrobe, that he skilfully undoes, before sliding them over your soaked folds. “Shit. Look how wet you are for me. Let me show you, please.”

With a nod, you dropped your head backwards and knew, in your heart, whatever was next would be the beginning of the end, of you, of him, of everything you’ve both worked so hard for and yet, all you felt was unadulterated, heavenly, euphoric bliss.

Maybe I blame my mother bleeding into my stride Maybe it was my father and his wandering eyes (It's their fault that) I'll always be in your corner 'Cause I don't feel alive 'til I'm burnin' on your backburner

taglist:@yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm@childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl@analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower @the-mourning-moon @pandoraslxna @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @kingjulian0o9 @erenjaegerwifee @babyduk213 @@toocoldoutsideforyou

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scaranation · 2 years ago

Note

HELLOOO can u do one where scara and reader are best friends and scara likes reader but we’re superrrr oblivious and keeps complaining ab how we’re so alone to scara AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHENEVER WE START TALKING AB OUR NEW CRUSHES W HIM

THIS IS SO SWEET OMG shbdhfdhs but hear me out: reader being a super romantic person (like reading lots of ya novels and crushing on basically everyone ) AND SCARA TRYING TO ACT LIKE THE MALE LEADS READER LIKES BUT THEN READER STILL DOESNT REALISE SCARA’S FEELINGS 😭😭

༊*·˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, pining, modern high school AU

You were constantly dreaming about a distant love you found amongst the pages of your romance novels, flitting around to find your Prince Charming. Scaramouche, your best friend, always felt like the second male lead - perhaps, it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

Scaramouche was quite a contrary character - volatile, and highly irritable. Most people were surprised to see he was capable of an emotion other than smugness or annoyance, much less being able to display something as absurd as love. And yet, it was apparent to everyone except the object of his affections that he held you in his gaze with a certain tenderness - a tenderness you never noticed.

You, being heavily into romance novels, would constantly gush to your best friend about everything that made your heart flutter. You romanticised anything and anyone, swooning over a new crush almost every week. You were in love with the idea of being in love, and yet, you never saw the love coming from the one closest to you.

“Maybe I’m just destined to be single forever…” You sighed, collapsing onto Scaramouche’s bed. The summer heat clung to you like a second skin, sweat seeping into your collar.

“Can you turn on the fan? It’s so hot in here.” You whined, briefly lifting your head to watch as Scaramouche walked over to switch on the air conditioning.

“Did you get rejected?” He tossed out the question jokingly, despite him hoping for a very specific response.

“I don’t even know anymore… Do you still have ice cream in the freezer?” You rolled over, pressing your face into the mattress with yet another long sigh.

“Do I look like your butler?” Scaramouche, your best friend - and the pretentious prick most people hated - scoffed, rolling his eyes but going to fetch ice cream anyway.

“You’re the best…” You mumbled. Scaramouche prodded your cheek with the cold bowl, holding in his smile at seeing you sit up - your hair messy from rolling around.

“So, what happened with crush number what? Sixteen?”

“I was going to confess, but they looked nervous for some reason and just left before I could say anything. If they really wanted to reject me, they should’ve at least heard me out.” You took in a spoonful of ice cream, pouting.

Scaramouche stared. Perhaps him glaring at that crush of yours every chance he got had really worked in driving them off.

“It’s such a shame, I really wanted my first kiss to be with them today. It’s such a nice idea, you know? Kissing at the lockers after a heartfelt teen confession.” You sighed dreamily.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” Scaramouche replied smoothly, although he felt his heartbeat shudder. You were always babbling about your romance novels, and so he’d read them too - memorised the important lines, studied the male leads’ behaviour. He’d quoted one just now, adrenaline leaping at the possibility you would’ve caught his subtle cue.

Your oblivious self did not. Or at least, you did - but didn’t.

“Oh, isn’t that from Gone with the Wind? I love that book! Did you finally read it?” You squealed excitedly.

“Yes, and it’s complete idiocy. Just as I expected.” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, looking away. His gaze flitted back to you quickly to scan for your reaction, his lips turning downwards at the lack of a blush on your face.

“Aww, did you enjoy it at least a little?”

“No, I should blame you for wasting my time.” Scaramouche feigned annoyance, but he didn't mind.

"It's such a good book though! How could you not?" You huffed, but changed the topic as your attention span stretched thin. Scaramouche chuckled at your behaviour, watching you in rapt attention as you continued rambling on about your love life.

He was conflicted. He enjoyed resting beside you and simply listening to you happily talk, but it filled him with sickening jealousy knowing you could make yourself love anyone but him.

When would you finally notice him?

The truth was, although Scaramouche was never one for literature, he’d somewhat enjoyed Gone with the Wind, in a roundabout way. He’d found himself in the alienated, self-proclaimed “dishonoured” character that was Rhett Butler. Despite the character’s cynical personality, he held an undying love for the heroine - although their relationship had failed due to his inability to express that love, and the heroine pining after another man. As much as Scaramouche hated to admit, it was a crude allegory of his current predicament. He was, irrevocably, the second male lead - either that, or a mere side character trapped forever in the friend zone. Your hyper-receptive behaviour towards others and obliviousness when it came to him was proof of that, and it was displayed now more clearly than ever.

Scaramouche’s hands clenched into fists as his usual mask of annoyance slipped into one of - miraculously - even deeper annoyance.

You’d found yourself infatuated with another person (or was it crush number nine for the second time?) and Scaramouche could barely contain his jealousy. He’d been dropping hints left and right, but for someone who spent most of their time immersed in romantic texts, you remained as ignorant as ever to his almost blatant advances. You’d been staring at your latest crush throughout class, barely even paying attention to what was going on.

"They're so dreamy..." You sighed, idly doodling the face of your aforementioned crush in the pages of your notebook.

"No, they're not. They stink, have you smelled them after gym?" Scaramouche prodded your side, drinking in the adorably irritated look on your face. His eyes roved over your every feature, wondering if one day they'd stretch into some semblance of the affection he so desperately craved from you.

"I can tolerate that."

"Oh yeah? What can't you tolerate, then?"

"Good question. They could punch me and I'd be thankful." You flopped onto the desk in a melodramatic display. If you punched Scaramouche, he'd probably be confused and concerned about your mood. Was it really love you felt for your crushes, or just a forced obsession?

"You're so childish." Scaramouche scoffed. He had a way of filtering his thoughts so the only thing that came out of his mouth were the mean parts - a habit he'd have to try and fix. Your beloved Mr Darcy would never behave so crudely.

"And you have a big mouth." You snapped, turning away to gaze at your crush again with exaggerated excitement.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

Scaramouche's fiery temper could surprisingly carry over to his love life. In a moment of impulsiveness, he'd (rather rudely) make sure you knew how he felt - as if he was entitled to your love. Before that however, he possessed some patience, so it'd taken a while for him to get to that point.

"When will someone ever like me back? If only real life could be like the books." You grumbled. Crush number seventeen had been a failure, and you moped about dejectedly.

“The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.” Scaramouche responded, looking you straight in the eye.

“The Illustrated too now? I’m proud, it seems you have been reading all my recommendations!” You perked up. Your gleeful expression made Scaramouche’s heart soften, but at the same time, a sense of irritation worked its way into his restless heart.

“You know, if you talked a bit more about what you read, I can find better books for you.” You added.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

“Oh, I love a good Jane Austen-”

“Stop it.” Scaramouche’s patience finally snapped and in an instant you found your back against the wall, his arm propped up beside you.

“I like you, okay? Like how your silly little book characters love each other. That’s how I feel, for you. I’m tired of having to spell it out, just so you can understand!” Scaramouche scowled. You stared in surprise.

“Are you… confessing to me right now?”

“Yes! For god’s sake, what else would this be?”

“So you meant those quotes, all this time?”

“Of course I did.” Scaramouche winced. He really was desperate - his former self would’ve laughed at him for doing something as self-deprecating as reciting romantic lines. Such frivolous behaviour, and yet he’d do it again, just for you.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed red with that expression Scaramouche had longed to see, your eyes suddenly uncertain to meet his gaze. How could you be so endearing, rendering him so enamoured with your mere existence? He felt himself falling for you even further, until you opened your mouth and promptly reminded him of your naivety.

“So… does that mean we’re like, dating now?” You asked.

For a romantic, you definitely were clueless.

“Yes, if you’d like.” Scaramouche replied.

You didn’t give a verbal answer, but Scaramouche felt it in the shy push of your hand against his as your fingers intertwined, the accepting way you leaned into him.

He should’ve found you annoying. He should’ve been extremely irritated long ago, but for some reason, there he was - secretly over the moon at finally being the main love interest of your life.

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duskandcobalt · 6 months ago

Text

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Six

Chapter Summary: Elain is cornered into making a decision on the future of their relationship when Graysen asks her a question.

Word Count: 4.4k

Missed the first five chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: Happy W(no longer)IP Wednesday!!

As always, thank you for all your lovely comments and messages about this fic and others... and also just in general. I'm always so blown away by how lovely this community can be and I appreciate all the support and your patience so much. It's been a busy couple months and I am so excited to finally be posting this chapter. It contains the very first paragraph that I ever wrote for this fic all the way back in October last year so it feels very surreal that it's finally going up!

I do want to give a tiny warning for a potential trigger in regards to Graysen's behaviour. It's just a tiny part but it may prove difficult for some readers so please be aware of that before you read. I hope you like this chapter, please let me know what you think and what you think may happen next!

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Elain’s ears were filled with the sounds of chatter, the clinking of champagne coupes, and the romantic crescendo of whatever modern song the violinist in the corner of the room had recomposed to better suit the energy of the function tonight. She fidgeted with the neckline of her dress in an attempt to cool herself down. The room was packed with people and despite the otherwise cool night, she could feel the first bead of sweat running down her back.

They were at Graysen’s parents house for yet another Saturday night dinner party. This one was another lavish soirée with no real purpose that his mother had thrown together for the weekend. Much like every one of these events, Elain only found out that she’d need to dress up to the nines when Graysen informed her in the shower that morning, with his arms around her waist and his lips against her ear, that she’d need to look extra pretty tonight.

Elain always felt out of place at these things. She felt underdressed and unprepared. She was constantly worried about how everything she said and did would be perceived by Graysen’s parents and their friends.

She’d become an expert at flying under the radar at these events - had figured out quickly that blending into the wallpaper was more tolerable than attempting to blend in with the crowd. She’d given up on the latter after the first couple of these Saturday night parties where she worked out that no amount of socialising and smiling would get the other attendees to look at her with any semblance of respect once they found out that she sold handmade soaps and herbal tonics for a living.

She couldn’t exactly rely on Graysen to be any sort of support at these things either, not when he was too busy schmoozing with some businessman or lawyer or doctor. He’d corner her every now and then, drape her on his arm in an attempt to show her off but Elain knew how to slip away. She knew to whisper in his ear that she needed the ladies room and she certainly knew how to take her time making her way back to him. What she didn’t know was how her partner couldn’t seem to tell, or perhaps didn’t seem to care, that his family didn’t respect her.

Elain had been wandering around all evening, entertaining herself by picking at the canapés and the drinks that were balanced on trays carried by wait staff dressed in head to toe black. She’d just plucked another thin stemmed glass of red wine from a passing server when she felt the energy in the room completely shift.

She heard the way conversations suddenly stopped, felt the way the air turned stagnant. Most of all, she somehow knew, without even having to check, that every single eye in the room was focused on her.

Elain glanced up from her drink and found the nerve to turn and see what all the fuss was about but that singular second was all it took for her to wish that she’d simply minded her business.

She froze in an instant, completely and utterly paralysed at the sight in front of her. Graysen was balanced on one knee, looking up at her with his bright blue eyes and a small black velvet box cradled in his hand.

She felt like she was going to be sick. Couldn’t stop her hands from trembling, couldn’t do anything to slow the frantic racing of her heart. Part of her hoped that this was a nightmare. She prayed that she’d wake up in the safety of her bedroom and that none of this would be real.

It felt like the whole room had tilted, the wine she’d been knocking back suddenly hit her full force as she continued to stare down at him. Based on the immediate silence that had fallen around them and the look of despair that she’d somehow managed to spot on his mother’s face from where she’d suddenly appeared just behind her son, he hadn’t told anyone that he’d intended to do this tonight.

Elain couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood between her ears and she barely registered the way his lips shaped the question as he carefully opened the box to display what could only be described as the most ostentatious ring she’d ever seen in her life. It was gigantic and shiny and so out of place compared to all the other jewellery she owned. She tried to listen to what he was saying but Graysen’s words were overtaken by another memory she’d tucked away carefully in the very back of her mind that had chosen this particular moment to resurface.

…

“You should marry a boy like that.” Her father had told her once, peering at her briefly over the top of the glasses perched low on his nose as he’d fiddled with whatever woodcarving held his attention that particular night.

Elain had been sitting in the armchair across the fire from him, quietly cursing under her breath as she tried and failed to crochet a teddy bear for Feyre’s newborn baby.

“A boy like what?” She’d asked, setting down her hook and actually looking up at her father. It was so rare for him to comment on any of his daughter’s relationships - romantic or otherwise.

“Like that Azriel boy that’s always trailing you around,” he'd muttered, once again focused on his project. “Nice kid… respectful. He’d be good for you.”

Elain had been flustered, suddenly warmer than she’d been just a minute before as she attempted to figure out how to respond. She was so taken aback by the conversation that she hadn’t even stopped to point out that her father loved to refer to Azriel as if he barely knew him. As if he hadn’t spent fifteen minutes engaging in quiet conversation with Azriel each and every time he walked in the door for the past seven or eight years. As if her father wasn’t one of the very few people to whom Azriel would offer anything more than a passing ‘hello.’.

“Az and I aren’t… we’re just…” she’d sighed. “He’s just a friend, Dad.”

“Didn’t say he wasn’t,” her father had shrugged. “Just saying I’d be happy if you married a boy like him.”

“Well I’m not looking to get married any time soon and certainly not to - wait, why are we even talking about this?” Elain questioned, cutting off her own sentence as she nervously fiddled with a knot in her skein of yarn. She’d been desperate to move on from the topic lest she be cursed to ponder her feelings for Azriel any more than she already had when she was left alone with her thoughts too long.

“Feyre is married with a new baby, Nesta’s moved out and is getting married soon so you don’t see her as much. It’s a Friday night and you’re at home with your father, El.” His voice had taken on a serious tone. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re lonely? The only time I see you really smile anymore is when you’re with him.”

“That’s not true. I’m not lonely and I like spending time with you or by myself,” she’d said, unable to meet her dad’s eyes. How could she when she knew fully well that she was lying through her teeth?

“I’m just a little worried about you lately,” Mr. Archeron had continued. “I want you to be happy, I know Azriel makes you happy and I think, for whatever reason, that scares you. ”

Elain had blushed, biting her cheek. She had no idea how her usually clueless father had zeroed in on the two truths that she kept closest to her heart. She couldn’t work out how he’d managed to sense the feeling of relentless loneliness that followed her like a shadow as everyone around her found their people and their place in the world. She certainly hadn’t been able to figure out how he’d known that her feelings for Azriel often toed the line of just friends and how that feeling had amplified once she’d found herself spending more and more time alone with him.

“Azriel doesn’t… I don’t think he sees me like that.”

There had been a million reasons running through her head. A million excuses for why she and Azriel wouldn’t work. Why they couldn’t be together. Why it would be an absolute disaster if they even tried. She’d never dared to voice them out loud, never even dared to admit that she felt like that towards him.

Mr. Archeron had laughed - two quick short breaths that sounded a lot like disbelief. Elain had always loved her father’s laugh, but in that moment it had made her angry for a reason she hadn’t been able to nail down.

Elain had stared at him, mouth agape. “What?”

“Elain, Azriel likes Nesta. He likes Feyre. But that boy loves you.”

It was Elain’s turn to laugh as her father’s words landed. She’d clutched at her pendant and set aside her long forgotten project.

“That’s ridiculous. That’s not true,” she’d said, standing up on embarrassingly shaky legs. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, dad.”

It hadn’t even been close to the time she usually went to bed but Elain couldn’t sit and listen to that anymore. The idea of Azriel returning her feelings was preposterous. The idea that her father thought he was in love with her? Absolutely nauseating.

“Give it a chance, El.” Her father had said softly as she made her way towards the stairs. “If he likes you and you like him, give him a chance. He’s good for you.”

…

Her father’s words had haunted her all of that night until she forced them all the way into the back corner of her mind where she kept all the other similar feelings and thoughts she preferred to ignore. Suppressing the memory of that night had worked well and it had popped up only one time in the years since. When she’d been laying in bed with Azriel on one of the nights in the week after her father had passed - her tear streaked face in the crook of his neck, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back.

His words came flying back into her mind now as she looked down at the man on one knee in front of her.

“I…” She forced herself to speak after almost a full minute of silence, her fathers words still blaring in her ears.

He’s good for you.

The only time I see you smile anymore is when you’re with him.

That boy loves you.

How could she say yes to anyone else when there was only one person she’d ever truly wanted?

She needed to say something. Anything. She focused her eyes on Graysen, her face softening in the hopes of lessening the blow she was about to deal him. “Please don’t do this.”

His face fell at her whispered words, his lips pressing together into a straight line as he slowly stood up and squared his shoulders. She didn’t miss the flash of anger that passed over his face as he pocketed the ring, there and gone in a second before his usual cool demeanour settled into place.

Graysen gave her a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes as he placed a hand on the small of her back and Elain did her best not to flinch away from his touch. He led her out of the room, muttering an excuse to the rest of the guests - some small joke at her expense that he trusted would make light of the situation. She tried to ignore the incessant buzz of hushed whispers as they passed by his friends and family. His mother’s relieved face was the last thing she saw before she stepped outside and took her first proper breath in what felt like minutes, relishing in the soothing feeling of the chill night air on her overheated skin.

He didn’t say anything to her. Not as they walked towards his car, not as he drove her back home. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything either, too shocked from what he’d just done to form a coherent thought. It wasn’t until they were back in her apartment that he finally broke the unbearable silence between them.

“What the hell was that?” He didn’t bother to mask his anger anymore. It resurfaced clear as day, written in every harsh line of his face. He stood a foot away from her, one hand braced on the bannister of her stairs to block her from getting around him.

“We’ve never even talked about this.” She shook her head, shakily running a hand through her hair. “We’ve never once discussed getting married.”

She knew that he hardly listened. She was fully aware that in the year they’d been together, he’d rarely taken the time to ask her questions. Had never bothered to truly get to know her. She’d ignored it at the beginning, had kept him around because he’d been the distraction that she needed at the time and she’d been happy to go along with it as weeks turned to months. She was happy to play the part of the partner he so clearly desired.

He’d been nice enough that she’d thought that one day it would click. That maybe with enough time, she could trick herself into thinking that she was capable of loving someone other than the kind-eyed boy whom she’d silently pined over for the last decade. The only person she’d ever felt comfortable enough around to not have to pretend to be anyone other than herself. It wasn’t until she’d turned to see Graysen on one knee that she knew that she couldn’t do it, couldn’t pretend to love a man that didn’t even really know her.

“I wasn’t aware that this was something we had to discuss, Elain.” Graysen replied. “You’ve just fucking embarrassed me in front of my family and friends.”

Elain scoffed, just half of a clipped laugh filled to the brim with disbelief. “That’s what bothers you about this situation? That’s what you’re annoyed about? You aren’t bothered that I said no but you’re bothered that I said no in front of all those people?”

“Of course I’m bothered that you said no but you could’ve waited to say no instead of making a scene.”

“I didn’t make a scene, Graysen!” She seethed. “You made a scene by asking me that question in a public setting when we’d never discussed this before! You’ve never asked what kind of ring I wanted, we’ve never talked about what kind of a proposal I might like, we’ve never even discussed if either of us wanted to get married at all.”

“I thought we were on the same page. I’d assumed you’d say yes!” He dragged a hand through his hair.

“You assume a lot about me and that’s the entire problem,” she shook her head solemnly. “I know I’m not an open book, I know I keep a lot to myself but you’ve never even tried. You’ve never asked me about myself or my interests or you tune out when I do talk about the shop or my family or things that I like. All you care about is dressing me up however you like and parading me around. You like that I don’t argue back, that I go along with whatever you suggest and that’s okay because I’ve played a part in that as well but you don’t know me, Graysen.”

“If you felt like that then why are you here? Why have you stayed?” Graysen asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s been nice and I do care about you but it hasn’t even been a full year, Gray. I just didn’t think we were close to even considering getting married.”

“So it’s not because you’re waiting for him?”

Elain stopped short, startled by his remark. Graysen had never once brought up anything that had happened back home since they’d gotten back from their trip for Nyx’s birthday at the start of the year, much to her surprise. And Elain had fought tooth and nail, used every little bit of willpower she had to stop her mind from constantly fixating on what Azriel had told her on Nesta’s porch that night. On what he’d gently advised her to do.

I can handle you being with someone else, I’ve done it for a decade… but please… please don’t stay with someone that doesn’t make you happy just to prove a point to yourself or to me or to anyone else.

She’d heard him that night and then proceeded to do exactly what he’d told her not to. She’d spent months - years in all actuality - running from her problems and it had finally caught up to her. She’d hit a brick wall, hard and fast, and now she was completely stuck, caught in a web made of all her worst decisions.

“Elain?” Graysen’s voice broke through her spiralling thoughts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?

“No,” Elain shook her head. She couldn’t work out why even now she was fighting the truth.

“You’re in love with him aren’t you?”

“No,” she shook her head, hating the way tears immediately started to fall from her eyes, as if her body was rejecting the lie. “He’s just my best friend.”

“Take off the necklace, then.” Graysen jutted his chin towards her chest, his eyebrow raised and his lips set in a hard line. “If he isn’t the reason that you can’t say yes to me, if you don’t love him… take off the necklace.”

Elain stepped away from him, swallowing her nerves. She felt dizzy all of a sudden. Everything felt wrong, the air felt thick and heavy and a horrible ball of something ominous settled in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t take it off, Gray. I won’t.”

She really couldn’t. She’d only ever taken it off for an x-ray or a massage. She knew it was ridiculous, that it was just a physical object and it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she gave in and removed it, but unclasping her necklace would feel like the end of something and she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Take it off, Elain.” Graysen demanded again, stepping towards her. “You won’t accept a ring from me but you’ll wear some piece of shit necklace that your best friend made for you years ago?”

“It’s a necklace with sentimental value, Graysen. I’ve worn it every single day for years and I’m not going to change that now.” Elain sighed. “What does the necklace have to do with this, anyway?”

“Everything. It has everything to do with this,” he moved closer. “Hate seeing that thing around your fucking neck every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to take it off.”

“So we’re done then?” His voice went whisper soft and she froze, completely backed up against a wall with nowhere to go. She knew that when he went quiet, trouble was soon to follow.

“I didn’t say that,” Elain pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You don’t want to get married, though.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Not now or not ever?”

She stayed silent even though the answer was loud and clear in her head.

“Fucking hell, Elain.” Graysen cursed under his breath and moved in even closer. Before she knew what was happening, he’d raised his hand and reached forward, firmly grasping her beloved pendant in his fingers. With one swift movement, Graysen tugged and the chain around Elain’s neck pinched her skin as it snapped.

She was shocked. Elain stared at him with wide eyes and it wasn’t fear that coursed through her veins, but anger. She acted on instinct, shoving him backwards with two firm hands against his chest.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me like that again,” she seethed, annoyed at the way her voice and hands shook a little. She may not have felt afraid in the moment, but it was clear that her body was having a different physical response. “Get out.”

“Elain-” Graysen tried to talk to her. Reason with her.

She was used to this - the softening of his eyes, his voice. The slight drop of his shoulders. He’d let his emotions get the best of him and now he was doing recon.

“Please, baby.” He tried again, taking one small half-step towards her.

“Get. Out.” Elain stood her ground. “Get the fuck out my apartment.”

It was clear that Graysen was surprised by this. He hadn’t expected her to argue back, not when she usually just gave in to his half hearted attempts at apologies. But she’d had enough and she’d finally stood her ground even if she’d let it go entirely too far. His defences went up in return, his shoulders squared, his jaw turned rigid, and his eyes narrowed.

“We’re done,” her voice cracked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“So that’s it then?” Graysen raised an eyebrow. “What’s your plan, Elain? You have nothing. You have no one here. All you had was me... My friends. My money. ”

“Please, can you just go?” Elain practically begged, her heart was racing and all she wanted was a cold glass of water and to lay down.

“Do you really think he’s going to want you, Elain?” Graysen gave her a sardonic grin. “You’re nothing but a pretty face. You’ll go running back home and straight into his arms but what do you think is going to happen? He won’t want you.”

Tears pricked at Elain’s eyes and she pleaded with herself to not let them fall. She couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let him know that everything he was saying were thoughts that she’d had about herself time and time again.

“He may keep you around for a bit but the novelty will wear off,” he shrugged. “I know how men work, Elain. You’ve strung him along for years… he doesn’t like you. He just likes the chase. He’ll fuck you a few times and then he’ll realise that you have little else to offer. You’re nothing, Elain. He may think the world of you now but you are nothing. No one will want a girl like you.”

Elain was shaking. She didn’t know whether it was from anger or nerves or perhaps embarrassment that she hadn’t been able to hold back her tears and now she could taste the salt that dampened her cheeks.

“No one wants a girl like me?” Elain managed to scoff. “Do you hear yourself? You proposed to me not even an hour ago.”

Graysen opened his mouth to speak but Elain had finally had enough. She couldn’t stand to listen to him spit more vitriolic words into her face. Couldn’t stand the reminders of everything she’d already convinced herself to be true. She walked past him, straight to the door of her apartment.

She twisted the knob, pulling the door open before turning back to face him. “Leave.”

“If I step out of that door, I’m not coming back,” Graysen threatened. “We’ll be done.”

“Leave,” she repeated.

Graysen’s jaw clenched and he let out a sharp exhale of air as he made his way towards the open door. He didn’t say anything as he looked at her, only pausing to give her a disgusted once-over before he flung her necklace on the ground. She watched as it landed right by the sharp heel of her shoe.

Elain barely heard him mutter whatever last insult he flung her way before he walked away. She closed her door and locked it but her eyes never left that shimmering piece of gold shining bright on her dark floor. She sank to her knees, tears falling so hard and fast from her eyes that the neckline of her dress was wet. She didn’t realise how quick and shallow her breaths had become until she was on the floor, her broken necklace safe in her hands.

She pulled her legs to her chest and lowered her head in between her knees, her fingers still tightly clutching the pendant. This was the lowest moment of her life and she couldn’t believe she’d let it get to this point. She was disappointed with herself. With her decisions. She’d wasted years of her life. She’d wasted her time and the time of at least two other people. She’d isolated herself from everyone that genuinely cared about her. She’d missed out on major family milestones. Had pushed away any chance of happiness that had been presented to her.

Elain had run and run and run and where had it gotten her?

She was thirty years old and lived in a city that would never feel like home. She had countless failed relationships and one disastrous marriage proposal under her belt. She was having a panic attack in her tiny apartment and there was nothing she could do about it. She grasped for her phone - desperate to have someone talk her through this terrible feeling, to remind her how to breathe.

Amidst her racing thoughts and racing heart, she ran through her options - she couldn’t bother Nesta because she didn’t want to interrupt her time with Cassian. Feyre had enough on her plate with Nyx. She wasn’t close enough with any of her old friends to put them on the spot like this. She wanted her father, wanted a hug and the gruff it’ll be fine that would never come.

There was only one other option left but there was no way in hell she was going to go through with that when Graysen’s words were still blaring through her mind.

Elain squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back against the door. She gripped her necklace in her fist and raised her fist to her chest, gently tapping in a rhythm that mimicked a normal heartbeat. She didn’t know how long she sat there before her heart slowed, matching the slow knocking of her fist against her chest.

Her panic had subsided but the sadness and frustration lingered and the profound loneliness that she’d been trying to ignore - the loneliness that her father had once alluded to - finally bubbled up and threatened to drown her once and for all.

#elriel fic #everywhere everything #my writing #elain x azriel #elain archeron #modern au #azriel #acotar fanfiction #elriel fanfic

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