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#i'm so sorry to crowd your dash like this
bitterbutblue · 2 days
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our times
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turns out, you're the fortune i want to keep most ☆ multi x reader
~ this is a multi x reader!! hatssun was talking about writing angst and i really said omg my turn! sorry hatssun ur idea was so good and it works so well w yukong and feixiao... ill credit u so hard bro i swear. WVERYONE BE PREPARED FOR WHEN THINK FAST DROPS🙏🙏🙏
UMM ALSO THE FEIXIAO ONE IS SOLONG FOR NO REASON LOTS OF DIALOGUE SORRYYYYY
characters: feixiao, yukong, ruan mei
 song: 小幸運 - Hebe Tian ~
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i was too busy chasing shooting stars in the sky ☆ feixiao
The day Saran ran away, something in you ran with her. The day Saran ran away, you didn't know if you would ever see her face break into a smile again, or if you would see her hanging the next day. The trace of her slowly faded with time, but even when you finally had the guts to bolt for it she was still the only thing on your mind. That day, you didn't mind if you died running, because it would've been better than staying there but alive. You didn't mind if you died running, because you died with her on your mind.
God knows how many decades had passed since the Luofu took you in. You only count days in how much your heart ached for her. Eventually it dulls down, it goes from a sharp thud to a muted nudge every time you see a dash of silver hair in the crowd or a sharp but soft smile on Jing Yuan's lips. You've heard of how far she had gotten, and you wished it didn't hurt so much to hear about it. You forced yourself to forget about her, because you couldn't keep living every day haunted by her. You were finally able to live your days how you wanted to, even if it meant without her by your side.
"Yukong, can you run these by the general for me?"
You were absentmindedly sitting at your desk, filling in whatever forms the general had sent to you about all the legality things they had to sort out for the Wardance. You spin your pen, signing your name down and ticking the last of the boxes. You huffed at the lack of response from the woman who should be sitting across from you.
"Yukong?"
"She's not here."
You look up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and the world decides to take a break for a moment. In that small fraction of a second you feel yourself going back in time for decades until you are standing face to face with the young foxian, bruised and battered with an undying flame in her eyes. She is now much taller, her face pale but not the sickly kind that she harboured before. Her eyebags faded, hair flowing as if it had been just washed- a sight you never saw before in those camps.
She looked healthy, she had everything she wanted.
So why did she look like she was about to break down in front of you?
It wasn't fair.
"Saran?"
She only nods, standing with her arms by her side like a fool who doesn't know how to speak. She clears her throat, moving to cross her arms so she looked less awkward standing in front of you.
She wears clean clothes, she smells of petals.
Her scent of blood long faded, but you feel the pain behind her stance.
"How have you been?" Is all she asks as she eyes your desk warily, as if not knowing how to approach the conversation.
"Well. You?"
"Good enough."
Your old banter had long faded now, your previous ability to make each other laugh despite knowing the imminent death that looms over you two every day.
"Neergul died."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
It's like talking to a wall, or to just a mirrored version of yourself with how either of you refuse to look at each other.
"I never knew if you died or not until I came here."
Your shaky voice finally cuts the tension that has been simmering for far too long. She swallows, looking up and you know she is holding back tears because she has only ever looked up when the night sky is open and she can see the stars that granted her hope.
"I found out you became general. I was happy for you."
She says nothing.
"Why didn't you reach out?"
The edge to your voice has her breath knocked out of her lungs for a second as she tries to formulate an answer. She tries to weave incoherent thoughts and jumbles of emotions into a sentence and it's much harder to be done than she realised.
"I couldn't."
Of course she couldn't. Why would she admit to you how much of a coward she was? Knowing she had abandoned you after kissing you goodnight that evening.
"Why?"
But you want answers. It's not every day your presumed dead lover comes back to see you after years and years of crying yourself to sleep and hoping that in another future you could be in her arms without having to fear for your life.
"I was scared."
The general cannot be scared, or show any signs of fear in any situation- especially emotional situations where they need to stay calm so that people can feel secure around her but right now it all falls apart.
"Of who?"
"You."
"Why?"
You really did not like to raise your voice but you couldn't help it- she infuriates you. From the moment she flooded your heart you realised why love and hate go hand in hand because you hate that you love her.
"Why now?"
"I don't know."
Is all she manages to stutter out after an incredulous minute of silence and you just sigh.
"Why didn't you come find me?"
Her question has you going speechless now.
You were a hypocrite.
"I don't know."
She just nods with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I don't regret what I did that night."
You squeeze your now-fisted hand tight, taking a deep breath in to try to not only steady your voice but calm your racing heart that threatens to beat so hard it shatters in your chest.
"But why? Why make me love you for decades if you never planned to return?"
"I wanted to return. I always did."
Her words come out much more rushed than she intended it to come out. You feel your world shatter in that moment as you speak your next words.
"You never moved on?"
She steps closer.
"I dreamt about you every night. Under the sea of the shooting stars."
You shake your head, quickly wiping away at your own tears and she has to take a sharp breath in so her tears don't fall.
"Don't say that." You whisper "We can't. Please."
She looks at you, more intensely than ever as her voice quivers.
"Why?"
You shake your head.
"It'll only hold us back."
You still adorn matching scars from the torture you both had gone through in those camps. You love her, but she also left you.
"We can't." Is all you say.
She turns around and you want to pull her into your arms, you want her to be able to look at you but from that moment on, the look on her face as you showed her your soulmate would be the face you see every night you close your eyes.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
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somewhere in the sky i could not see, was you ☆ yukong
The evening Caiyi died in her arms, Yukong vowed to never see the skies again. That was the same evening you went missing, the same evening she breaks down because how can she lose two of what she loved most in her life within the blink of an eye? The reason for her to wake up every morning, the reason she smiled even through the roughest of the days- now faded into nothing but memory and a distant bitter taste in her mouth.
You were not presumed dead, only missing. The false sense of hope had Yukong staying at her desk for hours every day, going through files and files, records upon records to try and maybe find some trace of you somewhere but after years of searching she finally gave up. She had to care for Qingni for Caiyi, she had to keep loving you because if she doesn't then she feels like she's lost herself.
It was the day Qingni flew to the skies when she finally looked up once more. She looks to the planes to see her daughter flying the same path that doomed her from wanting to live but the sky was the reason she had the two people who made life worth living. It was that day a plane crashed and Yukong felt the familiar, sickening feeling from decades ago as she runs to the sight. She's panicked, flustered, heart racing and feeling like throwing up as she pushes past crowds amongst crowds-
She doesn't know if she should scream or sigh in relief when they pull the lifeless-looking figure out of the starskiff. The model was old, the same she used in the war where she lost....
You. The figure they pulled out was you and she feels like she's going to be sick. She runs up to them, asking if you're okay and the medics are telling her to back off but she needs to know. She puts her head down, ear against your chest and almost sobs when she hears your heart thud weakly. It's so soft she really could've missed it but she hears it.
"Oh baby..."
She whispers as she cradles your head on her lap.
She sits by your side in the hospital until you wake up. She doesn't move, doesn't eat or drink or anything unless Qingni drags her to the bathroom or to the cafeteria. She holds your hand weakly, squeezing it every once in a while to see if you'd respond.
A cough jolts her awake and she quickly scans the dark, dimly lit room to find you- blinking weakly as you scan the room wearily.
"Oh, oh my god."
She quickly gets off her chair, rushing by your side.
"Are you okay? How are you feeling? Nurse-"
"Yukong."
She never thought she'd hear her name fall from your lips, to hear her name mumbled out so softly and hoarsely again.
"I'm here, I'm right here."
You don't say anything as you close your eyes, taking in a deep but pained breath as you close your eyes. She can feel her hands go cold, trembling violently as she tries to calm herself down. Her fingertips feel like they've been dipped in ice water and her throat feels like its closing up violently.
"You're here."
Yukong couldn't help the sob that escapes her lips at your words.
"Yes, yes baby. I'm right here."
The tears are already falling before she can even bother trying to control them, and she can already feel herself slipping away when you smile softly at her because she had always been a fool for you. She put the whole world down for you and she would lift it up for you if you needed it to be lifted again.
"I- I came back."
"You did, you did baby, you're back." She whispers, finally moving to take your hand in hers. You feel so much smaller, your hand much rougher than it used to be and when she finally takes in how scarred you are she feels like breaking down.
"Wanted to see you..." you whisper weakly, voice shaking as you look directly into her eyes.
Your eyes were nothing like the eyes she used to look at every night before she drifted off to sleep. Now they were hollow, every trace of who you once were has faded into the past that only resides through her dreams.
You were back, but you'd never really be back.
She just squeezes your hand gently as she tells herself it's okay, telling herself that you're physically here and you were somehow still alive and that's all she's been praying for since the day you fell.
So why does it hurt so much?
If all she's ever wanted was to have you back in her arms, why does it hurt so much to have you back now? Looking at her with a smile that no longer meets your eyes and a sense of coldness washing over her like a suffocating blanket every time she sees you.
She still loves you.
She still loves you and it hurts that her lover has died, reincarnated into a broken version of who she once loved. But she doesn't care. She will learn to live with the cold if it means being able to hold you once more. She would spend as long as she needs, puzzling every piece of you back together until you are able to smile at her without the history of all that happened haunting your every waking move.
She vowed, from that moment on, she'd start looking at the sky again because the sky brought you back. Every evening she stares up at the moon, watching it dim the lights to another day, and whisper her gratefulness to have her lover back. Every evening, she brings you out to look at the moon, the same moon you looked at during the two decades apart where the only thing you had together was the moon draped in the sky that she was too scared to look at.
"I love you."
You just lean your head against her chest.
You just listen to her heartbeat, and with each thud the cracks in your body begin to renew themselves- you would never be who you were, but you would always love her.
"I love you too."
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every scene was you ☆ ruan mei
The day she left, she vanished. No note, no text, nothing. Ruan Mei had become nothing but a shadow on earth when she decided to leave your house and you questioned if it was even worth searching for her at that point.
She had always been obsessed with aeonhood, aeons, power- whatever. You knew she was. Yet you still loved her for it, and she always promised you that one day you two would be able to love each other for eternity, for as long as you wanted to and until time itself faded into nothing but what was a mere idea of the past. She held you close that evening when she promised you, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you.
A week later, she vanishes.
Lab empty, notes packed away, it was like as if your house had gone back in time to before you met her with how empty it all was. You called her number, texted her phone, contacted everyone she knew which was not a lot but you still tried because you loved her.
The day she revealed herself as the 81st member of the genius society, you felt your entire being shatter into pieces of who it once was. That was why she left you. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was selfish, and she had always been a selfish person.
You were foolish for loving her.
But you couldn't stop.
By the time you finally encountered her again, your history had become just a speck of dust in her mind but it was still your reason for hurt. It was still the reason why getting out of bed was a bit harder and why looking in the mirror hurt just a bit more than it should.
"Oh, it's you."
Her monotonous voice has you wanting to squeeze her throat, strangle her until she can't speak but you don't move. You stare at her, her lack of reaction, her poker face and you just swallow.
"How are you?"
That was the only sentence you could manage out and if you looked closely enough, you could see her eye twitch slightly as her throat tightens- her composure begins breaking at the sound of your voice.
"Well." She nods. She sounds too composed to you despite all the pain she is desperately trying to hide. She hates you for making her feel this way. She hates how weak she feels when you make that face at her, when your eyes widen and your mouth tightens into a line, body tense and breathing shallow. "You?"
She notices how your body tenses even more at that question, how your eyebrows begin to furrow as your face grows pink from anger.
"Not very good."
"Oh."
Her response had you fuming even more. How she was so careless and thoughtless towards you and how you felt drove you off the walls. She doesn't give a shit about you, why would she even ask?
Because you don't see the guilt that eats away at her heart every night as she stares at the photo of you that she has on her bedside table.
"Congratulations. You did it. Genius society."
It came out bitter and harsh, and Ruan Mei doesn't flinch but she feels this twist in her gut that's too unfamiliar and too painful for her to fully register. She doesn't understand this feeling. She wants to, because she wants to know how to stop it.
"Thank you."
You scoff at her response, physically unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to her, jabbing a finger into her chest.
"You're a fucking bitch."
She hates how her heart leapt at the feeling of your touch, she hates how your words actually manage to hurt her when it really shouldn't be affecting her at all. She's been called so much worse, so why does this, coming from you, hurt so much?
"Is this because I left?"
How can she be so dense?
"You left without saying a word! You just disappeared off the face of the earth, I don't hear from you saying where you are. I don't know what happened, I thought I did something wrong, but no- I remember who you are. A narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself."
The last part hurt more than it should've.
"I don't only care about myself."
You can't help but falter at how soft her voice suddenly goes as she looks down, not making eye contact as she shifts her bodyweight from foot to foot.
"I really cared for you."
Those words shouldn't affect you. You should've moved on from what happened almost twenty years ago now but you can't. You just stare at her and you hate how you feel tears start to form in your eyes as you blink violently, trying to hold it back.
"Don't say that to me."
She goes silent.
"I hate you."
She looks down and you don't see the tears that well up in her eyes.
"I really hope you succeed. I hope you get everything you've ever wanted."
She doesn't even get to see your face for the last time, because by the time she finally gets the courage to look up you were already gone. Your last words to her haunt her every time she begins her studies, or every time she tries to focus on figuring out creating a new life species. She knows you didn't mean it, yet she can't help but want you to notice her just one last time.
Maybe this time, she could fulfil her long broken promise to you.
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@44rtem idk ifthis is the ruan mei content u wanted... but here u go <3
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bedsyandco · 13 days
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⭑ …   ❝ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ❞ ; quinn hughes
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𝓹airing , quinn hughes x fem!reader
5 times Quinn wanted to kiss you + 1 time he finally did
꒰ 𝓷ote , just some quinny content for your dash <3 as always please let me know what you think. . . ꒱
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✮1
You make your way through the crowd to get to the table at the back of the bar, where a few familiar faces already spotted you.
"Look who's here! Nice of you to finally join us," Brock says as you hop onto a barstool next to Quinn.
"Hey, stranger," Quinn says softly and knocks his shoulder into yours.
"Guys, I saw you like two weeks ago. Sorry, I have a life," you say teasingly.
"Watching friends, eating Chinese food, and going to bed by 10 PM is not having a life." Brock says, and Quinn laughs at your offended expression.
"It does when you work the hours I do, thank you very much. I'm getting a drink. Do you guys want anything?" You ask and make your way to the bar.
When you get back, Elias is sitting in your seat. Noticing there's no more chairs open, Quinn goes to offer you his, but you stop him.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," you say, and Quinn pulls you to stand in between his legs. Your back leaning against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, and he hooks two thumbs in your front belt loops, keeping you close.
Throughout the night, you can feel Quinn's breathing on your neck or his head on your shoulder while he talks or listens to one of the guys.
When Brock went to the bar to get a refill on your drinks and Elias went to the bathroom, you and Quinn were left alone at the table.
You turn around in his arms, looking up at him.
"Now is your chance to steal your seat back," Quinn jokes.
"I'm pretty comfy right here, actually," you say, and Quinn smiles softly.
In that moment...
he really wanted to kiss you.
✮2
You jump in surprise as someone knocks on your door. You weren't expecting anybody...least of all the man you found standing at your door.
"Quinn...what are you doing here?" You ask, opening the door wider to let him in.
"I haven't seen you in a few days, and I know you work late tomorrow, and we're leaving on another roadie...I didn't wanna go another week without seeing you," he says and you smile.
"Wanna watch a movie with me?" You ask and he nods, both of you making your way to the couch.
Halfway through the movie, you're cuddled into Quinns side, both of your eyes on the screen.
Quinn feels your eyes on him and looks down to meet them.
"What?" he asks softly
"You played really well tonight..." you say
"You watched?" Quinn asks surpirsed
"Yeah... I always watch. How do you think I know when to tell you congratulations..." You respond.
"I thought you just looked the score up after the game, to be honest," Quinn says
"I like watching you play," you say and Quinn smiles down at you...
In that moment...
he really wanted to kiss you.
✮3
"This is not a good idea," You say shakily as Quinn ties your skates.
"You're gonna be fine... don't be so dramatic. I'll be there the whole time," Quinn says and holds his hand out to lead you onto the ice.
You wobble a bit and grab onto Quinn, looking at him with nothing but fear in your eyes and he bursts out laughing.
"You should see your face right now," Quinn says amused.
"I'm glad you find this amusing," you snap.
"You've lived in Vancouver your whole life. How can you not skate?" he asks
"Contrary to popular belief not all Canadians come out of the womb knowing how to skate. Besides the one time I tried, I fell and broke my wrist and had no intention of ever trying again."
"Just keep your hips straight and push out with one foot and then the other," Quinn says.
You concentrate so much on doing what he says you don't realize he's let your hands go and you're skating on your own.
The moment you do realize, instant panic takes over, and your legs start to go separate ways.
Quinn tries to pull you up, but he's laughing so much, he isn't much help.
"Quinn, help me up." you say, standing in a half split and clinging to Quinn's waist, voice filled with laughter, and Quinn just laughs more.
With him laughing and you clinging to him, neither of you is very stable, and both of you end up on the floor, you on top of Quinn, who was still laughing.
"You did it though, for a second" he says and you scoff
"Can you buy me ice cream now?" you ask pouting
"Yeah, you deserve it." he says and looks up at you. Cheeks flushed because of the cold, a cute little beanie on your head.
he really wanted to kiss you.
✮4
You take another deep breath, and another practice swing, before finally pulling back and hitting the ball.
It goes really far, just not in the right direction...
"Quinn! Did you see that?!" you ask excitedly, and Jack has to turn around to hide his laugh, and Luke rubs a hand over his face to hide his smirk.
"I did see...it was...very far," he says, and you swing your stick, making Jack duck and head for the golf cart.
"Man... she's so smart, but she can not play golf to save her life," Jack says, and Quinn swats at him.
"It's her first time asshole. She's doing great," Quinn says and walks towards you.
"Love really does make you blind." Jack says, and him and Luke laugh all the way to the golf cart.
"You know as much fun as this has been, I don't think I'll be doing this again any time soon," you say and Quinn frowns...
"What? Why?" he asks
"The first couple were fun, you know, but then it just gets really boring and really hot. I was really hoping one of you would've told me to stay in the cart by now," you say and Jack's mouth drops open.
"Were you bad on purpose?" Jack asks
"I'm not good by any standard but those last couple was just to fuck with you a little bit. Props for trying to hide your reactions, but you're a horrible actor Jacky, you're gonna have to do better than that when I give you your Christmas present."
Jack and Luke laugh, and Quinn smiles as you hand them the sunscreen and tell them to put some on.
he really wanted to kiss you.
✮5
You and Quinn were swaying to the music, smiles on your faces, observing Emma and Brady.
"They look so happy," you say
"They really do. You look beautiful," he says, and you blush.
"Thanks, so do you."
"You ever think about it... getting married?" Quinn suddenly asks. "Just in general...someday."
"If the right person asks... yeah," you say.
"Wanna marry me if we're still 30 and single?" Quinn jokes
"There's no way you'll still be single at 30 Quinn, but if that's the case, then yes. I would be honored." You say, and Quinn smiles as the song comes to an end.
Suddenly, Taryn is there dragging you to the side of the room where the bouquet toss was happening, and you smile apologetically at Quinn.
You stood at the back, trying to stay out of people's way. You weren't really trying to catch it. But three seconds later, you stood with the bouquet in your hands, awkwardly looking around the room until your eyes met Quinn's. He smiled as you thrust the bouquet into Taryn's hands and scurried your way over to him, hiding in his chest.
he really wanted to kiss you.
✮+1
You and Quinn were snuggled up at the end of the boat... watching Jack wake board with the sunset behind him.
"I love having you here," Quinn says rubbing patterns on your legs softly
"I love being here..." you reply.
"Think you wanna come back next summer?" Quinn asks, and you turn to look at him.
"I don't know... think I need some convincing," you whisper and move your face closer to his.
Quinn gently cups your face and presses his lips to yours. You soak up the moment for a while before it's interrupted by Jack and Luke's yelling, which results in Jack being horribly distracted and falling into the water.
"I've been wanting to do that a long time..." Quinn admits
"So have I," you say and kiss him again.
he finally kissed you.
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wasawattpadkid · 2 years
Text
Housewife
Part - 1
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
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"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"
"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.
Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.
With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'
The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.
The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"
A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."
"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.
"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.
"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."
You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."
"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.
"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"
Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"
He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.
"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"
Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.
"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."
"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."
"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."
"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.
You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.
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Part 2
A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞
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ihavethedreamies · 7 days
Text
Her Hero | Lee Know
Lee Minho - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5k
Pairing: Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader
(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)
Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Frenemies-to-Lovers (ish)
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (Sweetheart mostly), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (kinda), Breathplay, A Single Spank, Masochist! Reader (surprise~!), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)
Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero.
Author's Note: Here's Lee Know's!! Working on Changbin's, should be up very soon.
At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.
P.S. I'm having so much fun with these but I have to help watch our dog so she doesn't get on my uncle's furniture and so then I can't work on these during the day :\
Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.
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-> Bang Chan's <-
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I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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Your father was an important man who did important things. Unfortunately, some people didn't like the things he did or the way he did them. Namely, the Right State Minister…your father was the Left State Minister, so they should work together. No. They hated each other. Even more so because your father refused to let you marry the other Minister's son. That made the other man's son hate you…for some reason, like you had any say in the matter. You didn't even know the guy existed till your father told you he had prevented your marriage.
One day, as you waited by the entrance to your family's estate, you draped a sseugaechima over your head, waiting for your brother to join you. He was going to escort you to your friend's house, and you were getting impatient.
"Sorry!" He dashed through the courtyard, leaning down and panting to catch his breath. When he stood, the top of his gat wacked you on the chin and you flinched back.
"Sorry!" He floundered, peeling the head covering off so he could look at your annoyed face for any injury. He was such a klutz but at least he tried to make up for it.
"Let's just go please, orabeoni." You sniffed, recovering your head and you left the estate grounds. Your older brother weaved through the crowd, you held onto the belt of his hanbok to make sure you didn't get separated. There must have been some kind of big event or something going on because there were people everywhere.
"Ah, wait!" You cried out, someone bumped into you hard, and you let go of your brother.
"(Y/N)?" He turned around, his height allowing him to look over most of the crowd, but your own height hid you more. You were shoved and pushed as people whirled around you and called his name out.
"(Y/N)!" He shouted, but before you could reply, something hit you hard in the back of the head and you saw black.
~~~
When you woke up, you hurt. Your head hurt the most, but your whole body was sore. As your senses returned, you looked around in confusion. You were in a bedroom of what looked like an inn or other kind of lodging. Sitting up from the bed, you rubbed at the back of your head, looking around. Did your brother find you? If so, why did he bring you to a lodging rather than just back to your home? He also wasn't in the room. Did you pass out and a random person bring you here till you woke up? At the other side of the room, on the other side of a folding divider, you heard the door open. Unfortunately, it was not your brother that came in, you actually had no idea who it was. He was dressed all in black and his face was even covered.
"W-who are you?" You backed up on the bed, back hitting the wall, like that would really be of any use. He didn't say anything, but he pulled out a dagger and you froze in shock. Logically, you knew you could scream, but you couldn't physically get one out. He stalked forward and you closed your eyes, waiting for the worst. You squeaked when he grabbed your hair, right above where your daenggi was tied, and…cut your hair. He left as quickly as he came, the end of your hair along with the ribbon in his hand. What? Reaching around, you brought your hair over your shoulder to look at where he cut, nearly half of the length was gone.
"That-" you were madder more than anything else. Couldn't he have just undone the ribbon to use as proof? It was clear he didn't want to hurt you because you were in a nice room, not tied up, and other than a throbbing spot on the back of your head, you were unharmed.
After what felt like around an hour of sitting in the corner, contemplating what to do, you got up to look around. You weren't sure about trying to escape. Just because you were unhurt up until then didn't mean your captor would be so merciful if you tried to leave. Plus, you might get more hurt escaping, you were pretty sure you were on a second or even third floor. Just to check though…nope, the window shutters were locked from the other side it seemed. Plus, obviously, so was the door. Great. As time ticked by, you messed with the various objects of décor, trying to prevent boredom. Didn't work. All the drawers were empty and there wasn't even a baduk board for you to mess around with. After being nosy even more, you found a book wedged in the back of a dresser, between the back panel of the drawer and the piece as a whole. You weren't sure how it got back there and when you finally yanked it out, you sighed.
"Better than nothing." It was some old romance book that had been there for probably at least ten years. Sitting at a table in the room, you started the read, not really enjoying it, but it was better than nothing. More time passed and you were glad there was at least a separate room with a chamber pot, but it was getting dark. Your stomach rumbled and you wondered just how long you had been out cold because you and your brother had left the estate fairly early in the morning. When night fell, you found a lantern but had no way to light it. So, you had to sit in the dark, only the faint light of the moon flowed in through the slits of the locked shutters. Sitting back on the bed, your stomach growled again, and you sighed, laying down. You might as well pass time with sleep.
~~~
You were startled awake when there was a loud commotion outside of not just the lodging but also your room. Getting up from the bed you went to try and look through the slats of the windows but couldn't see much. There was a loud crash, and you turned around just in time to see the door break into pieces as someone kicked it open, not even bothering to try and unlock it first. It was the Podocheong! The man that came in had the uniform of a Bujang, and he sighed in relief upon seeing you. Another officer came in then, taller than the man who had kicked the door in.
"We believe we arrested all of the perpetrators, sir." He bowed slightly to the lieutenant, and he nodded, waving him off.
"Are you okay, Lady (Y/N)?" He came forward, brow furrowed in worry, looking over you. You shrunk under his gaze, embarrassed, hiding your face. His hands went to your jaw, making you look at him so he could see if your face was harmed. Your cheeks felt hot under his thumbs, he was strikingly attractive, but also familiar.
"When your brother couldn't find you, he came straight to me." He told you, letting you go, and you nodded, stepping back, looking away again. He then realized how intimate his action had been, and he bowed, apologizing.
"Are you friends with my orabeoni?"
"Yes, my lady. When we both got to your estate to look for you, your father informed us that a ransom letter had been sent for your safe return. I apologize for not getting here much sooner." You shook your head, casting a glance up at him, not sure if you were allowed to really show him your face.
"Here." He removed his jeonbok, draping it over your head so you could hide under it. Thanking him gently, you pulled it down over your more, it smelled like him, which was amazing.
"Let's get you home."
"W-what is your name?"
"Minho of the Lee clan, my lady."
~~~
When you returned home, not just your mother and brother were in tears like you expected, but your father was as well. He wasn't cold normally, but he just had better control of his emotions.
"Thank you, hyungnim." Your brother bowed to Bujang Minho, still sniffing a bit.
"Yes, we cannot begin to express our gratitude, Bujang." Your father thanked him as well and you let your mother lead you further into the estate so she could hug you. You hugged her tightly back, incredibly grateful to be home safe.
~~~
You weren't sure what Minho had asked of your father in return for rescuing you, but he seemed to be hanging around a lot. While, yes, he was mostly with your brother, you would always find him watching you if you happened to be around or passed by. One day you were sitting at the edge of your family's pond under a parasol, messing around with some embroidery work. You were not very good at it even though you enjoyed it.
"Is that supposed to be a flower?" You heard a teasing remark to your side, and you sent a glare at the owner, but, it was not your brother. Quickly, your face reddened, and you looked back down.
"U-uh yes, but as you can see, I am a little poor at this." You huffed a nervous laugh.
"Then why are you doing it?"
"I like it, just-" You yelped when you poked yourself with the needle, quickly putting the tip of your finger in your mouth. Setting the frame on the ground and putting the needle back in the cushion, you ran a finger over the messy stitching.
"What else do you like to do?" You froze when he sat down next to you, not close enough to touch you, but you weren't expecting it. He wasn't in his Podocheong uniform, the light greenish-blue fabric of his hanbok complimented him well. Looking away from where the material seemed to be struggling over his chest, you cleared your throat.
"I enjoy painting, but once again, I'm not great at it."
"Is there anything you enjoy that you are good at?" You saw him tilt his head to rest it on his fist, elbow resting on his knee, from the side of your eye.
"I…" You were a little stumped.
"N-not really." You enjoyed creative and artistic work, but you were not skilled in the field.
"That's not what your brother told me." Your eyes widened and you shot him a wary look.
"Your father isn't even here." Minho rolled his eyes, and you clenched your jaw. He was kind of getting on your nerves. Mostly because he was stupidly attractive, and you didn't like being teased to begin with.
"I haven't shot a bow in years." You whispered, still weary.
"Worried a man won't want to marry you if you can fight?"
"Archery isn't fighting, and I'm not worried about that." You stood up then, leaving the parasol jabbed in the ground, gathering up your frame and embroidery basket, walking around him to head back to your room.
"Let's go do it." He caught up to you, walking backwards, smirking as he walked ahead of you.
"No." It was too risky, you got caught last time your brother took you to his make-shift archery range.
"We can go to the Podocheong training area, no one will know. No one's there now." You had reached the stairs to get up onto the deck of your house, and you halted at the bottom. The offer was extremely tempting…
"Fine, let me get something to change into."
With a bundle of your brother's old clothes in tow, Minho helped you sneak off the estate grounds. He had at least told your brother, so no one thought you got kidnapped again. Your father didn't check on you after dark so he wouldn't know you weren't in your room. After you arrived at the training grounds, you changed in a bathing room and came out.
"You really look like your brother like that." Minho scoffed and you rolled your eyes.
"I know." You sniffed and he led you toward the back where the archery targets were set up. Without waiting for his prompt, you looked over the different bows on the rack and picked one, then grabbed a quiver as well. It felt instantly familiar, and you were glad for that, but your aim was rusty.
"You're supposed to hit the middle." Minho hummed next to you, pointing to where you had hit off to the side quite a bit.
"I know." You grit your teeth, shooting off another arrow and it missed as well. Was it the bow?
"Here." He moved to adjust your grip on the bow, and you yanked away from his hold.
"I don't need your help." You were embarrassed because you said archery was something you were actually good at.
"You did a few weeks ago." The little string of control you had snapped, the fire of your annoyance singing the ends, and you turned to him, glaring at him straight in the eye.
"What, you want me to say thank you? After my father showered you with gifts and allowed you to loiter around our estate? Fall to my knees in gratitude to my hero? Huh? If you want that go to another girl." You turned back away from him, not noticing his amused grin and you shot another arrow, hitting the red bullseye.
"What?" You nearly growled, standing at the door to your room's building, having opened it to find Minho leaning on the wooden column next to the stairs. He was relentless for the next few weeks, and you were really pissed. More so that you missed when he wouldn't show up with that stupid smirk on his pretty face. Why were you starting to like him when he just teased you all the damn time? Wasn't he your brother's friend? He constantly pestered you to go shoot with him, or go ride on his horse, or some other stuff, and you said no to almost everything. You would only eat with him if he brought snacks or a meal because who says no to food?
"I think you dropped this." You looked to see your eunjangdo dangling from his index finger.
"Give it!" You swiped at it, but he held it up and back behind him so you couldn't reach it. The silver shined in the sun, and you jumped to grab it, falling onto him when you couldn't make it.
"Give it back!" You pressed against him more, fingers barely touching the sheath of the dagger.
"Hm, no." He chuckled and you yiped when he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you to him. Your face bloomed with heat, and you could even see the red on the tip of your nose when you looked at his face, very close to yours.
"I really should stop helping you if you don't want a hero so bad." He finally relented and brought the dagger back down, but he didn't let you go. He was warm against you, and you could feel the muscle he had underneath the layers of clothes and even through your own. Your head was swimming, and you didn't even move to grab your eunjangdo from him when it was within reach.
"Have you heard the rumor about the watermill behind your house by the stream?" Instantly you knew what he was talking about.
"Y-You!" Your face's redness changed from embarrassment to rage, and you pulled away from him, slapping him hard, then turning on your heel and going back inside, the silver dagger still dangling in his grasp.
You didn't want to admit why you were crying, but you held the cushion to your chest closer, pressing your tear-stained face into the pink silk. You weren't overly fond of romance and sweet gestures, but the crassness of his suggestion hurt. Did he only want to bed you and then move on? You hoped deep inside he liked you back. And it wasn't until you cried for a good hour that you realized why you were so upset. You liked him. That’s why you wanted him to like you back.
"Dammit." You sniffed, wiping hard at your face with your sleeve.
"(Y/N)?" A soft voice called from just outside your window, only moonlight coming in through it, one small candle illuminating your room softly.
"(Y/N)? I know you're awake." You registered the owner of the voice, and you deflated further into your cushions.
"Go away." You spat at him.
"(Y/N), please?" Minho's tone was like nothing you had heard before, and it was beginning to compel you.
"No." He could probably hear the insincerity in your voice.
"(Y/N), sweetheart, please?" Your heart stopped, then sped into a gallop when he called you that. Your body seemed to act at the will of your heart and not your brain, because you got up, using a step stool, and opened the window. He smiled, genuinely, and it made you swallow hard. You wanted to cry again.
"I'm so sorry." He stepped forward, the window just the right height for him to rest his arms on the sill from where he stood on the porch. You didn't say anything, you were worried you would burst into tears if you tried.
"I said something horrible; I was just trying to tease you and I hurt you. Will you forgive me?" You hadn't heard such a sincere tone from him since he rescued you at the lodging. Your uncertain gaze met his intense one and he sighed.
"What you said awhile back made me think. You said that your father showered me with gifts for saving you? He didn't."
"But…orabeoni said you got confections and a bunch of other stuff."
"That was from him and your mother. Your father had a different gift, but I told him I didn't want it. Not without you agreeing." What?
"Huh?" He smiled at the clear confusion all over your face, the sad look falling off.
"Your father offered you as a gift. As my wife. I said yes, but I wanted to court you first. I didn't do a great job though I guess." Minho sighed and you couldn't hold back then, tears spilling over your cheeks.
"(Y/N)?" He stood up straight and you stepped closer, and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand.
"You should have just said so, you stupid idiot." You hitched a sob with each word, and he smiled, letting out a small laugh.
"Yes. I should have."
~~~
It seemed, to Minho even more than you, the wedding couldn't have been soon enough. It was also hard to hide from your family just how clingy he was. If no one was around, his arms were around you at the very least. He had you sit in his lap while you did most things, his chin on your shoulder, watching you sew or read. More than just a few times he would be standing next to you or hugging you and his hand would sneak lower than he really should have put it. The first time he got a not-very-strong hit to his chest, and he just chuckled.
You were a bit sad to move out of your family home, but you and he were given your own separate house on his father's estate, so far on the edge of the land that it felt like your own. As you stood in your new bedroom, dressed only in your sokchima, flinching at every noise as if it was your… You giggled finally thinking of him as your husband, and you hopped a little with glee. Every noise though made you hope that it was him, returning from his own bath, but most of the time it was just an animal outside, or the wind making the window shutters creak slightly.
Finally, the door to the bedroom opened and he peaked his head in, a serious look on his face.
"Are you ready, (Y/N)? Because I'm running out of restraint." The sharp look in his eyes made you shiver, but you nodded anyway. As he stalked in, the door falling shut behind him, he tugged at the goreum of his sokjeogori, and time slowed down as it fell to the floor. Your eyes skated over the skin that he revealed, and you didn't have time to react, he scooped you up in his arms and easily carried you to the bed. He pinned you to the yo, raised onto a platform and you gasped as his lips sealed over yours. His hand snuck under your head, fingers weaving through your hair at the base of your braid, pressing you even closer to him.
His other hand wandered, snaking up your leg, pushing your sokchima up higher and higher. Feeling his hands on your bare skin made you shiver despite the heat he seemed to be setting. You panted when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth, licking his lips like a hungry dog. His eyes though reminded you of a cat on the hunt.
"How rough can I be?" Minho's lips brushed the skin of your neck as he spoke, then his mouth attached, and he sucked hard. You huffed at the feeling; mind not able to stay on track for very long.
"Huh?" You finally managed to get out, hands balled into fists over his shoulders, your pulse seeming to thud harder where he had sucked the skin nearly raw.
"I've been waiting to have you so long, sweetheart, that I just want to breed you like a bitch in heat." The vulgarity of his words shocked you, but it somehow fueled your arousal rather than offending you.
"I want to brand you as mine." He licked a path over your throat, ending at the hickey he had left under your ear. His blunt nails dug into the flesh of your upper thigh as he pulled it up to his waist, his hand sliding down to cup your rear.
"M-Minho-!" You couldn't help but throw your head back with an airy moan as he rolled his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing to your bare core through his pants.
"Tell me now, so I can slow down." You could hear the strain in his voice, his breathing was hard too.
"Don't." So, he didn't. He didn't hesitate either and you squeaked when he rolled you over underneath him, landing on your stomach. Instead of untying your sokchima like a civilized person, he tore the straps at the seams, then yanked the white garment from you and tossed it to the side, leaving you completely naked. Your skin immediately rose into goosebumps from the sudden chill, but the heat of his bare chest pressing to your back instantly took over.
"You're just perfect." He hummed, nearly laying completely on top of you, hard cock nestled in the crest of your butt. Minho's arm snuck under you, sliding up to nestle between your breasts, his hand gripping your jaw. You whimpered at the restraining feeling even though it was nowhere close to tight, and you felt his dick twitch at the noise. His free hand also snuck underneath you, holding himself up with pure core strength, only the elbow of the arm holding you supporting him. As his fingertips ran over your lower stomach you sighed, the muscles twitching at the stimulation. He hummed and you recognized the noise that he always made when he smirked, and your body jerked when his fingers finally met your cunt.
"So wet already, sweetheart." His nose nuzzled behind your ear, the hand at your jaw loosening even further but sliding down just a bit to cup your throat. Quickly, his index finger brushed over your clit, and you whined, and he chuckled, feeling the vibration at his palm.
"M-Minho…" Your head was swimming, and you let out a choking noise when he buried a finger into you.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll loosen your tight cunt enough to take my cock." While Minho wasn't always outstandingly proper with you, his crass words still surprised you some. They went straight to your core though, and he felt your gummy walls spasm around the single digit. Slowly, he pumped his finger till you relaxed, the slight sting from the entrance dissipating. You had never even used your own fingers and based off what you felt nestled into your backside, you did need to get prepped. Whether it was on purpose or not, when Minho finally added a second finger, his hand at your throat tightened just enough to put slight pressure on your windpipe. Your cunt spasmed again, harder, and your heart sped up as well, wondering why the sensation excited you so much.
"Oh?" He chuckled, speeding up his hand at your pussy, palm pressing to your throat a bit harder. His palm pressed at your clit and a strong pulse hit your core, and it was getting stronger and stronger.
"W-wait, Minho!" You gasped, having an idea that you were close even if you had never felt it. The intensity startled you a bit.
"Go ahead, (Y/N), fall apart." The hand at your throat pressed enough to make your vision swim and you keened out a moan as you came. He huffed at the squeeze on his fingers, but helped you ride the high out, kissing behind your ear as he did. When he unwrapped his arms from around you, you fell limp on the bedding, still trying to catch your breath. Swallowing a few times to ease the slight soreness of your throat, you heard him shuffle. You, however, had no time to look behind you at him before his hands were on your hips, pulling them up, forcing your butt up in the air.
"What are you-?"
"I said I wanted to breed you like a bitch in heat." Oh, he meant it literally. Unfortunately for you, he hadn't given you the chance to see him bare, because you were not prepared for when he brought the head of his cock to your entrance.
"Breathe, sweetheart." His hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of your back, and you focused on measured breaths as the fat head of his dick finally started to press in. Stinging heat seared through you from your core out as he entered, and you couldn't tell what it felt like. Somehow it hurt like hell but also felt so good, so much so you thought you might pass out. You fisted the bedding below you, gasping for air as he slid in, the slick of your arousal aiding the entrance.
"Your cunt's hugging my cock so good~" Minho sighed, the noise turning into a groan as he buried even further. How much further would he go? The searing heat was so deep you wondered if he would stop anytime soon.
"Just a bit…" He chuckled when he finally bottomed out, the tip pressing snugly to the base of your womb. Tears had sprung to your eyes, your whole face felt hot, and you panted hard, trying to get used to the odd feeling. Yes, it hurt, but it felt so much better than you thought it would.
"Tell em when you're ready, my love." He leaned over you again, kissing your shoulder gently and petting your hair.
"Go." You answered almost immediately, and his soft touches halted.
"Love, are you sure?"
"Fuck, please!" You weren't sure why you needed him to start already, logic told you it would hurt, but you craved it. It felt so dirty to like the burn so much, but you couldn't help it.
"Yeah?"
"Please!" Your breath was forced from your lungs when he rolled his hips, pulling out halfway before snapping back into you, hard. He felt your core pulse around him, a rush of your arousal soaking his cock, and he grinned like a madman.
"So fucking perfect." He immediately began a brutal pace, but still held back some, only pulling out half before driving his cock back home, battering your womb.
"W-wait, oh! Ah! Fuck!" The same waves of pleasure were already cresting, so much stronger than before and Minho relished in feeling the clench of your gummy walls around his cock instead of his fingers.
"So good." He mumbled to himself, licking his lips and as you got closer…
"Fuck!" You squealed when his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red print on your skin and you came again. He gasped a laugh as your arousal drenched his cock and his groin, leaving a shining trail down both your thighs. Minho laughed at your whine of disapproval when he pulled out, but it turned to a gasp as he flipped you over. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, ankle at his ear, holding the other to his side, and he filled you again. Your vision spotted from the stinging pleasure the overstimulation was causing you, but you focused on his gorgeous face. He had that cocky smirk on his face, sweat beading down from his forehead and you whimpered at the sight. With what little strength you had, you propped yourself up to see where he was splitting you open. Whether it was the sight or his next thrust, you fell back limp and fisted the sheets as he fucked you like a rabbit. His shallow movements were even harder than before, and your eyes rolled back, back arching as your next orgasm rose.
"Oh, what a good girl, cum for me, love." Minho took your hands in his, your legs barely wrapping around him to hold on. His fingers wove through yours, lips meeting once more as his pace stuttered. He must have felt your moan against his tongue as you came once more, the tight vice of your cunt spurred him over the edge as well. Your core burned even hotter as his cum filled you to the point where it spilled from you, mixing with your own. Your body went limp, and Minho hummed, kissing your forehead.
"I love you." He left little pecks all over your face and you giggled sleepily.
"I love you, too. I'm glad you saved me that day."
"No, (Y/N), I think you saved me."
Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. Orabeoni - more archaic/historical word for older brother to a girl. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Baduk - Korean word for the Chinese game of Go. Podocheong - essentially the Joseon era police. Bujang - a Lieutenant-level position in the Podocheong. Jeonbok - kind of like a long vest worn over a hanbok. Hyungnim - a more commonly used term historically for a man to an older brother or friend. Eunjangdo - a silver dagger that many women wore as an accessory, mostly nobles. Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Sokjeogori - a shirt worn as an undergarment. Yo - a Korean floor mattress.
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Master-Master List
Stray Kids Master List
Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn
191 notes · View notes
bitchlessdino · 1 year
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okok i'm here for a request
wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.
so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)
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Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 3.9k
tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name
author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro
Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.
You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.
You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 
“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”
You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.
“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder
“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”
“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”
You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”
“But you were thinking about it.”
“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”
You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“
“Will you ever let that go—“
“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”
The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”
You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 
“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”
“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”
“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”
You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”
Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.
“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”
“I actually have plans tonight.”
“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”
“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”
You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”
He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”
Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”
Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”
You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.
Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?
You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.
However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.
“Hellooo…”
The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.
“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”
You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”
“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”
“Okay. Where are you right now?”
You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”
Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.
“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.
“Very handsome.”
You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 
“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”
You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.
“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”
Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”
Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”
“You don’t sound that handsome.”
“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”
There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 
Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.
“How much have they had to drink?”
“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.
His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 
You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.
Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”
“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”
It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”
“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.
You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.
“Did I do or say anything weird?”
He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”
You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.
“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”
“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.
“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“
“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”
“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.
“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”
His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.
You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.
“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”
“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 
“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”
Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.
You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.
“You’ve been quiet.”
You bow you head. “Sorry.”
“Why are you being sorry?”
“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”
You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Apologizing again? Look at me.”
It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.
Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.
With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.
“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.
You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.
Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.
His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.
“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”
Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.
“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”
You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”
He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”
“You…have?”
He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”
Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“
“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.
Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.
“Where did they go anyway?”
Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”
His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.
Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,
Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”
You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 
“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”
His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.
“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”
You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.
He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”
You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”
Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”
You gingerly nod.
“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”
Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.
“Such a good little darling.”
His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.
You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 
You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”
Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.
“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”
Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!
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last-starry-sky · 5 months
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Simon constantly teases you about how short/small you are. It upsets you, makes you feel singled out, weak, incompetent. Turns out he’s just dying to know how well you can fit him, how big his cock would look next to your hands and feet. Won’t shut up about it during sex either. A dash of mean Simon + his untapped size kink
eeeeee im gonnafuckining explode OKAY FOR REAL I WAS DYING WHEN I SAW THIS. thank u, beautiful, patient anon, for blessing me with this prompt!! I hope I did it justice!
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ghost x petite!f!military!reader
(MDNI - NSFW uhhhh grossly inaccurate military stuff, creeper, bully simon :), i’m using “petite” as in “shorter and smaller than the average woman” trying to keep everything as open and vague as possible, oral, deep throating, ghost has a raging size kink, unprotected piv, also this is LONG (5.6k) 💀 i'm sorry!!! skip to the end for smut if that's all you want!❤️) 
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It’s been the same fucking comments from your lieutenant all week. Day in, day out and it’s starting to wear a sore spot into your hardened skin. 
“Muzzle up. Arms tired already? ‘s a big rifle for someone your size to carry.”
“Keep pace with the group. Your short legs aren’t their problem.”
“Shoulders back! Chest out! Some’ve y’ need all the height you can get!”
All you can do is grit out a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” and push yourself even harder to keep up with the taller and stronger men and women around you. The massive Brit in charge is running your training group. While you expected this to be hard (your CO hadn’t been mincing words when he pitched it as “advanced”) but you never expected this. 
First of all, from the very beginning, he seemed to have a problem with you. Only you. There were a handful of women in the group, but you were unfortunately the shortest and smallest. Not that it bothered you. You’d spent your whole life this size. You were used to it. It was everyone else, especially the wanna-be, alpha males that flocked to the military like flies, that gave you grief over it.
The second you all lined up off the transport, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried not to stare back while the other Brit, Captain Price, gave a short introductory talk. You hadn’t heard a word of it. He stood there, flanking the captain, in a black, skin tight t shirt, with his obscenely muscled arms crossed over his ridiculously broad chest. A buzzing filled your ears as his black eyes bored into you. His stare so hot and heavy it made you sweat. His eyes were all of his face that he left uncovered, the rest was hidden by a skull mask and balaclava. You tried to ignore him, but you swore you saw the ink on his arm flexing as the captain introduced him: Lt. Ghost.
From the first training exercise, a simple one on one spar, he pulled you of all people from the women’s group to demonstrate on. What could you do? Refuse? He had at least a foot and close to one hundred pounds of muscle on you. You tried not to shake as you squared up at the opposite end of the mat. 
He told you to rush him, to “show him what you got”. Well, you tried. Once he gave signal to start, all you could do was try to fake him out. You ran at him before quickly darting to the side, trying to get behind him using your short stature to your advantage. Unfortunately for you, he was crazy agile for a large guy. He pivoted on his foot, watching you as you tried to fade to his left. You steeled yourself when he caged you in his arms, sweeping your feet off the mat. Your world was a blur until he slammed you roughly down onto the mat. Your breath was knocked from you, your vision spinning. You heard the crowd around you let out a collective “OH”. It took you a moment to realize he had you pinned. Your legs and hands held painfully down with his own. 
“‘sat all y’ got? Givin’ up already?” he grunted out with a gravely laugh while he stared down at you. He leaned down until his chest was pressed to yours, that stupid mask just grazing your face. “Or y’ got some fight left in y’? 
Hell yeah you still had some fight in you. You managed to slip out one leg from under him, jamming your knee quickly into his side. A kidney hit was dirty, you knew that. You wouldn’t dream of doing it in a normal spar, against an evenly matched partner, but he deserved it for picking on you; for picking a woman when he could have easily dominated any of the men in the room. He reacted exactly as you expected: crumpling forward in pain. You didn’t waste a second pulling your hands and legs from his grip. Another cry rang out from the crowd when you rolled out from under him, ready to jump on his back and make the pin.
“Olright, olright,” he said rubbing at his side, sitting up with a grunt before you could pin him. “I yield, y’ cheatin’ lil’ git. Next up.” 
He pointed at one of the other soldiers to come forward and take your place. The man gave you a fist bump as you left the mat and you told him “good luck”. You knew he would need it. When you turned around you saw that Ghost’s gaze had never left you. 
-
You walked back to base on Friday with your blood boiling, failure weighing heavy on your psyche after a long, hot afternoon of sniper training. You had given all you could; had put up with extra hard, extra long training, with comment after comment about your size and strength. 
Shorty. Shrimp. Rifle looks like it weights more than you. Gonna manage that?
Up early, in late everyday, almost too tired to eat and shower by the end. You had a mind to march right into Price’s office and tell him you were leaving that night. You’d made it a week, that was good enough for you. You would rather face hell from your CO back home than endure another hour of this. The second you sat down on your bunk, however, you passed out.
The exhaustion must have snapped something in your brain. You woke up a few hours later groggy and sweaty, your bunk mate snoring away. You were half on your bed with your feet still in your boots. You rolled onto your back with a groan, wiping the dried tears and dust from your cheeks. 
You let your weak arms fall over your face. You felt pathetic. You honestly wanted to just lay on your thin mattress and cry in the dark until the day started. Another day of enduring that British cunt with a superiority complex calling you short and weak, of singling you out in front of your peers, of making you question your career up to this point. He was eroding the very core of your person at this point, and you didn’t know how much long you could take it. 
You let out a sigh and, with more than a little effort, pull your sore, battered body out of bed. What you really needed was to shower, to think this out, and then find Captain Price to talk. No good would come from rushing into a decision in this state. 
You enjoyed your shower. It was nice to have all of the hot water and the whole communal space to yourself. You took your time getting dressed back into your rumbled clothes in the empty locker room. Nothing but the sound of dripping water echoing off the tile around you. 
Leaving the showers, you looked up and down the bare corridors, only enough of the overhead fluorescents left on to avoid a safety hazard. Your hair dripped onto your shoulders while you stood in the center of the hall. Price’s office had to be somewhere around here.
You wandered out of the barracks, down hall after hall of the same, painted block walls and plain tile floors, until you started seeing name plates posted haphazardly on the wooden doors. Your eyes wandered from door to door until you found what you were looking for: a sheet of 8.5x11 paper taped crookedly outside an office with Cpt. Price scrawled across the middle.
You let out a sigh of relief as you brought up your hand to knock on the door. It was almost over. The captain seemed like a reasonable man. He would surely be willing to listen to you, maybe give you some sound advice on whether you were actually cut out for this level of training. Before your hand could land on the door, a gloved hand came out from the shadows of the hall in front of you to rest above yours.
“What’re you doin’ here?” he whispered harshly.
You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. You closed your eyes in annoyance, balling your hands at your sides. Of fucking course he was here. Right at the last hurdle. Right before you could seek relief from a superior, his superior too. You let out a long breath through your nose before you opened your eyes to face him.
“I came to talk to Captain-” you started speaking with a wavering voice before he cut you off.
“Not in. Not yet, at least. Had a long night.” 
He leaned against the door, starting down at you again. God, he fucking annoyed you. You’d never had a CO that frayed at your nerves like he did. How dare he come off so cool, gripping his oversized biceps with his stupid skeleton gloves. 
You stepped back from the door. “I’ll come back when he’s in then. Sorry-”
“Can help you if you need somethin’” he interrupted you again, casually canting his hips forward, moving his hand to the door handle. 
You shook you head. While you really wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would prefer not ending this with a disciplinary, so you bit your tongue. 
“I don’t need anything from you,” you answered with just a bit of venom.
He heard it, you were sure of it. He clicked the door open, letting it fall open to reveal the dark room inside. 
“No. I think you do, small-stuff.” When you didn’t make a move, just let another angry breath out your nose and furrow your brow deeper, he shifted to the side and pointed inside the room. “In. Now. That’s an order.”
You clenched your teeth and did as you were told. Not that you had an option now. 
-
You walked up to the desk at the back of the room. Price sure did keep his office in a state. Papers and folders were piled across his desk. A landline phone and old desktop computer were shoved to either corner of the desk. More folders and binders piled over the keyboard and hid the keypad of the phone. You heard Ghost’s boots squeak lightly on the tile behind you, then the door shut with a click. Another, soft click followed. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the spot right above you with hazy, yellow light. 
You turned to face the man who’d gone out of his way to made himself your nemesis for the past week. He silently sauntered up to you, stopping behind one of the chairs in front of the desk. You crossed your arms defensively over your chest and tried to make your face placid while he pulled the chair out. He took a seat, well, he tried too. He could barely fit his massive fame in the little chair. It groaned underneath him as he mirrored your pose, arms crossed and legs spread. 
You sat silently staring at each other before he asked, “Well?” with a roll of his shoulders. 
You picked over your words, trying to detangle everything you had thought up in the shower. Ghost bouncing his knee pulled you back to reality. It was like the threatening hiss of a rattlesnake's tail. Better to just get it out than keep him waiting.
“Do you have a problem with me?” you squeaked out, eyes on you boots. The direct route it was, then. 
“What?” he asked, confused.
You looked up at him, exhausted, eyes pleading. “Look, I know I’m short and not as strong as the other guys . . . especially the guys, but the way you talk to me-”
“Don’t have a problem with y’,” he said throwing his arm across the back of the chair, readjusting while he raked his eyes up and down your frumpy form. Probably looking for something to complain about. “If’m bein’ honest-” he started before cutting himself off and turning his head. 
You uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides. “What . . .” you questioned, gesturing with your hands in front of you. “Then why do you-”
He jiggled his knee a few more times before turning back to face you. “Little thing like you,” he said darkly, so deep and low you almost didn’t hear it. He clenched his fingers on his pants as he cleared his throat. “You keep up with the rest’ve ‘em well enough. Ain’t got a problem.”
“Little thing,” you whispered, repeating him sarcastically. 
Ghost groaned at that. Honest to god groaned in front of you, sending a shiver up your spine. You froze as his heavy eyes found their way back to you. 
“Yeah. You sure are,” he said scraping his fingers down his pants. “Spunky, too. Used t’ fightin’ for your place. Like that. Makes me wonder-” he trailed off as his large eyes wandered down from your face to your chest. 
You were shocked. No way. You had to be misinterpreting this. Maybe you were still sunstroked from yesterday, because there was no way you were reading him correctly. 
“Wonder what?” you piped, blush pinching at your cheeks.
“Wonder . . .” he said rocking his head back and forth, trying to tie a sentence together. “Wonder if y’ can be sweet, too.” He let you stew in wide-eyed disbelief for a moment as he gestured at you. “Wonder what you look like underneath all that.” Your stomach clenched as he tilted his hips forward, spreading his legs wider, to palm is cock through his pants. “Wonder if it matches what I’ve imagined.”
You would be lying if it was just your stomach clenching after that shameless display.
It was crazy how it all made sense now. The constant attention. The names. You thought he was being overly hard on you, picking at you, trying to get you to drop out. You rubbed a hand over your heated face. He was a grown man (a large one, too) that was acting like a little boy with a worm on a stick, chasing the girl he liked around the playground. You thought he hated you and all this time he was actually getting off to you. You felt like an absolute moron. 
“Doesn’t have t’ leave this room. If you’re interested,” he said in that deep gravel, still trying to keep himself together. 
You let him sit in silence for a long, tortuous, moment. 
“And if I’m not?” you finally asked. 
He nodded to the door behind him with his head. “Then leave. Talk t’ Price in the morning. No harm.”
“No foul,” you finished his phrase, running your fingers over your bottom lip. 
Silence hung between you for a hot moment in the cold, stale air of the office. You had a hard time believing he would just let you go at this point. Not that you planned to, the danger intrigued you too much to walk away. This line of work had made you a wholly different animal, it’s why you were here. You ran into war zones, battlefields, hostage negotiations, the places others couldn’t run out of fast enough. You’d been dealing with the people that most couldn’t stomach, the ones that couldn’t function in civilian society, for so long that they had worn a place under your skin. This lieutenant, Ghost, he had been in this just as long, if not longer, than you. He had to feel the same. Fuck, he had be worse.     
“What . . . what do you want?” you finally managed to ramble out. 
He let out a rough hum of satisfaction. You hated how you responded to it. You rolled your thighs together and, fuck, you were wet. You let out a small, shuddering breath. You’d gone a week with no praise, no kindness, and now here he was, the big, bully Brit who’d made your life hell practically purring over you. 
He trained his hungry eyes on you and motioned up with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna see ‘em. Don’t even have’t take your shirt off.”
A part of you wondered if this was all a trick as you slowly rucked your t shirt up to expose your stomach. That would track with how your week had gone so far. He was so blatant and open though, gripping the chair beneath him like he was about to launch out of it at a moment’s notice. He groaned as you pulled your shirt up to reveal your plain black sports bra. It was nothing special, standard issue, but it kept you strapped down. Not that you really had all that much to contain. 
He ran his hand over (what you assumed) was his mouth under the balaclava. He waited a moment for you to continue before urging you forward. 
“Come on, love. Don’t get shy. Wanna see ‘em.”
You slipped your fingers underneath the wide band at the bottom, hesitating only a moment before you pulled everything, shirt included, up over your head. You stared down at your chest while you balled your clothes in your hands.
“Not much to see,” you whispered, watching your nipples perk and skin pucker under the AC.
“Fuckin’ hell” was all he said. You dared to look up. “Fuck,” he continued, “Fuckin’ . . . get over’ere. Just fuckin’ dyin’ t’ get my hands on you.”
You dropped your clothes on the floor, closing the few steps between you quickly before falling forward into his grasp. You weren’t sure if you were ready for what this desperate, mountain of a man was about to unleash on you, but fuck did it excite you. Once he had you between his legs, gloved hands scraping up your back and around your waist, testing his fingers as he held you, but he didn’t do anything but look. He stared at you like you were made of glass. 
You stared at him, too. You hadn’t been this close since he’d pinned you on the first day, and you were pretty sure you’d been half-concussed then. You could see where he had eye black painted carefully around his eyes to fill the holes in his mask. You could see his long eyelashes, clumped together with that same oily black paint. It made the whites of his eyes stand out vibrantly. His large dark irises darted back and forth over your chest. You wondered what he was planning, what he was thinking. 
He didn’t leave you wondering for long. He pressed you forward, mouthing at your nipple through the mask. You let out a short whine, pussy clenching as his large hands kneaded at your waist. The feeling was like nothing you’d felt before. The fabric between you muted the translation between his actions and your pleasure. You could feel how eagerly he bit and sucked at you, but you were denied half of it. It made you dig your fingers into his shoulders in frustration.
“Want more?” he said haggardly, pulling off of you. He tugged at your belt, not waiting for an answer. “Then get these off.”
You did your best to undo your belt and pants despite your shaking and moaning while he dove back in, working harder at your other nipple. Once you’d dropped your pants down to your ankles he pulled you forward to step out of them, wedging you into the spread of his legs. You toed out of your shoes and then he kicked everything behind you, your boots banging loudly against the steel desk. You heard papers shift and fall, but couldn’t find a reason to care. He held you, running his gloved hands over your exposed skin while you shivered in font of him in nothing but your panties. 
He palmed his cock again before fumbling around to find his belt. You heard him click it open, the metal jangling as it went slack. 
“On your knees,” he ordered breathlessly. “Wan’ see what that little mouth can do with this.” 
You complied immediately, viciously curious as to what he was packing. If the tent in his pants was any indication, you had your work cut out for you. He popped open the button of his fly and then slowly unzipped. You couldn’t see anymore through his briefs than you had in his pants, but still, you leaned forward. You curled your hands on your knees, biting your lip, willing him to give you permission. 
“Go ahead,” he said giving himself one lazy, squeezing pump.
You put your hands on his inner thighs, right above his knees, testing the waters. When he didn’t say anything, you slid your hands up his legs, a soft, swishing sound following. You stopped at his crotch, pulling yourself forward before tentatively, gently, smoothing up his clothed cock. 
He groaned, covering your hand with his, forcing you to grip his girth. Your thumb just barely met your ring finger. 
“Fuckin’-” was all he could get out before pulling your hand off. 
He used his other hand to pull his dick out before pressing your hand to his hard, burning length. You gave him another pump, feeling how the skin stretched beneath your hand, then squeezing to feel how goddamn rigid he was. The tip of his cock made your mouth water. 
It was crazy. On you knees in front of him like this, you weren’t a competent soldier, a woman who held herself with poise and respect in front of her colleagues. He wasn’t an expertly trained, battle-hardened, special operative of the British Army. You were both human. Both hungry. 
You tipped his cock toward you to lap at the underside of the head. You met his eyes just as you closed your mouth around him, sucking the salt from his slit. He shut his eyes with a groan, letting his head fall back for a moment as he reached his hand up to grip at your skull. He opened his eyes to watch as he slowly bobbed your head down his cock. 
He gripped himself at the base, forcing your mouth to take him until you met his fingers. You did. Just barely, gagging as his head slid against the roof of your mouth to the soft palate at the back of your throat. He didn’t let you pull back. Instead, he traced the inside of your lips with his thumb, drool coating his black gloves.
“Lookit’ that,” he groaned as your throat pulsed and burned around him. “Little thing takes it all s’fuckin’ well.”
He let go of your head, letting you pull off of his cock. You stared at it with heavy eyes as your head spun from lack of oxygen, it glistened with your spit in the harsh light. He gave himself another languid stroke, watching you force air into your lungs while you sat practically naked on the floor between his knees. 
“Think you can take it in that little cunt a’yours like that?” he asked, stopping his stroke at the head.
You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You gave him a slow nod. Any fear or paranoia you had before was long evaporated. You were wet, horny, needy. You needed him to give you something, and if he was going to give you a choice, you could do worse than getting railed until you couldn’t remember your name. You clenched, hands clawing at your thighs, as you watched him pump another stroke up that monster cock of his in front of your face before grunting out his order.
“Get up then. Against the desk.”
You scrambled up to your feet. He followed you, rising quickly from his chair to tower over you, pressing you backwards into the steel desk. Your hands reached out for purchase as he roughly gripped your thighs, throwing you on top of Price’s paper-laden desk. Folders and binders clattered to the floor, papers swirling across the tile as he shoved you down, ass right on the edge. 
He stood between your legs, hips flush to yours, his cock laying across your standard issue panties like a weapon. He pressed the weight of it against your skin with a groan, head spreading precum into your stomach. Quicker than you realized, he reached behind his back, coming back with a knife. It was almost invisible palmed in his large hand, only the tip of the blade winked from the tip of his thumb. With two quick flicks, he cut up the side of your underwear. He slid the knife back to wherever he had taken it from, like it was the most normal thing in the world, before pulling the now useless scrap of fabric from between the press of your bodies. 
He held the scrap of fabric in his hand for a minute, investigating it under the light before tossing it to the floor.
“Really are beggin’ for it, eh?” He said sliding his cock up the seam of your pussy. His easy, fluid movements as he rocked against you answered for you. “Fuckin’ wet just from that?”
You nodded, lacing your legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer. He pressed his hand into your stomach in response, squishing you against the desk hard enough to make you squirm. He pulled away enough to notch the head of his cock at your entrance.
“Needy little fuckin’ thing,” he said with a punch of his hips, nails biting into the soft skin of your stomach as his tip danced perilously on the edge of holding inside you. “Want it so fuckin’ bad? Want this inside y’?” 
He took himself in hand and watched as he pushed inside. You both groaned. You let your head fall against the desk with a dull thunk, eyes shut and legs shaking as he pushed deeper and deeper inside your slick hole. 
“Fuck.” He was breathless for the first time since you had met him. “Fuck are y’ tight. So fuckin’ small. Even gonna fit it all?” He rambled to himself as he took hold of your hips and watched himself fuck slowly in and out of you; hypnotized by the clutch of your greedy pussy pulling him in, resisting as he pulled out. 
You let out a small cry of frustration, tears pricking around your eyes. He was big, but that wasn’t the problem. You had taken your share of dick, you could take him. It was killing you how slow he was. He was lost in his own world, watching his cock slid in and out of you as you lay there silently begging for him to just fuck you already. 
“Quiet,” he whispered with a half-hearted harshness, hand trailing down to your pussy. 
You almost jumped as he began to rub a wide circle around your clit. Your slick barely dulled the rough texture of his glove. You shuddered, clenching around him, whining as he found a rhythm with his thumb and cock. Your clench punched the breath out of him. He fell over you, bracing himself with his arm. You could hear the hollow sound of his breaths behind his mask as he gave up trying to pump into your vice of a pussy. 
He nuzzled the cold plastic of his mask against your ear. “Not gonna’ last long doin’ shit like that,” he grumbled. He held himself up, pulling your face to look at him with a hand under your jaw. “Wha’d’y want?” 
You stared back at him with confusion. 
“Where d’y want it?” he clarified.
If you had a brain cell still functioning, you would have told him to pull out. It was the safer of the options he was giving you. 
But you didn’t. You moaned out, “Fuck. Inside me. Please,” like the absolute whore you had become once he’d whipped his cock out. 
Not one to question, apparently, Ghost was back in position the moment he heard you. He pulled your hips back to meet his, cock punching all the way in until you winced as the head hit your cervix. He took hold of one of your legs, hand running up the length of it, positioning it until it lay unfolded up his chest. He gripped his fingers around your ankle, starting at it as his other hand squeezed your waist.
“Lookit, fuck. Lookit that,” he said as he pistoned into you. You cut off the loud moan that he punched out of you. The change in angle was . . god it was like nothing you’d had before.  
“Like that?” he said, letting your foot dangle on his shoulder while he held your waist with both hands, driving into you mercilessly. 
If you could have answered, you would have spoke truthfully. You were sure. You would have moaned about how good it was, how he was so big and filled you so well. As it was, his powerful thrusts jarred you against the cool metal of the desk too much to do anything more than moan and hold on as more papers flooded the floor. 
“Got y’self off at all this week?” he asked, panting breathlessly.
You shook your head, a small whine of anticipation falling form your lips at the thought.
“Gonna nut just thinkin’ about you cummin’ on my cock,” he mumbled, trailing his hand back to your clit.
You let out a sad whine, bucking into his thrust as he touched you. You were close. So fucking close.
He began to circle your clit like before, finding that delicious rhythm with the pound of his hips that pulled you higher and higher, tighter and tighter, until dazzling sparks lit up your core. You reeled back with a cry, clenching his cock, arching as he worked you through your peak. 
His hand ripped away from you sooner than you’d like. He fell over you, both hands biting into the skin of your hips as he pounded into you as your pussy pulsed, any semblance of cadence or love-making gone as he chased his own high. You dug your fingers into his t shirt. The sweat drenched fabric was almost too slippery to hold on to. 
“Fuck! Too fuckin’ hot ‘n, fuck, tight. Fuck, ‘m gonna-” His weak series of sighs and groans, followed by the distinct feeling of his cock flaring inside you told you what he couldn’t.
He lay over you for a moment, panting as you both caught your breaths. You wondered if he was also stewing in the monumental realization of what the fuck you had both just done. You’d just broken so many rules. So much was at stake. He’d just cum inside a subordinate on his bosses desk, and you didn’t work for the same country. This was going to be a mess. You were sure of it. 
He pulled away from you, pulling himself out with a smothered whine. You crossed your hands over your middle as you watch him zip back up and adjust his mask. It was wild how he was back to normal within seconds. You half expected him to walk out the door and just leave you here like this. At least all of your clothes were here, save your sliced up panties. 
But he didn’t leave. He held out a hand to you, only letting you stare at it dumbly for a minute before he flicked his fingers toward himself, urging you to act. You took his hand and he pulled you up easily. He even let you slump against him after you sat up. You’d forgotten how tired a good lay made you.
Again, you expected him to leave you now that you were conscious and able to dress yourself, maybe leave you with a heavy warning (read: threat) to not talk about this. As you tried to shuffle to the side to try and get off the desk, he stopped you. His hands gripped both of your shoulders suddenly.
“The fuck y’ doin’?” he said, forcing you back in front of him.  
“Getting . . . dressed?” you answered with unease. 
“Funny,” he said with a single, dry, laugh. “You’re a funny lil’ thing, too.”
His hands skimmed down your sides before quickly seizing you by the hips, throwing you over his shoulder like a backpack. You gasped as your stomach landed on his solid shoulder, punching the air from your lungs.
“Think we’re done already?” he said, turning around. 
You watched as the desk, and the messy you had made on and around it, including your scattered clothing, circled back into view, then slipped away. He palmed a whole cheek of your ass in one hand, spreading you open enough for cold air to chill your leaking core, as he stalked toward the door. He probed a finger into your pussy, swirling the cum you felt leaking out across your folds. 
“Got a whole day off, y’know,” he said matter-of-factly as he opened the door. Completely ignoring that he had a naked woman slung over his shoulder like a caveman. “Think we should go back to mine. Relax. See what else that little cunt’ve yours can take.”
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harleehazbinfics · 6 months
Note
On one hand I couldn’t imagine any scenario where cannibal chef reader chose anything over alastor
But imagine they reconnect with like a friend from when they were alive and for probably the first time in their afterlife, not chase after alastor 😨
Busted~
A/N: Bet. Here you meet Jan, they're genderfluid. Using they/them pronouns for this specific fic and reader to be she/her to avoid confusion.
i imagine them all cool and wearing very fashionable clothes, being a striving designer when they were alive and all. i think that's cool. i'm sorry for inaccuracies but i didnt focus on that but rather their dynamic with the reader so pls enjoyyyy
Cannibal chef! reader m.list | profile
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"(Y/n)~! I HEARD YOU WERE STAYING HERE SO I CAME OVER!~ I respect your privacy as a decent person but asserting my authority as your best friend by coming in anyway!"
A series of screams erupted from the crowd that was enjoying breakfast at a large dinner table at the front of the entrance, when someone knocked down the front door with a heavy slam making the giant chandelier swing over their heads.
You perked your head from the crowd when you heard your name being called. You were met with a person with blue hair styled into a wolf cut, having very striking features, who triumphantly poses with their hands on their waist with a proud look on his faces as he harrumphs, as if to brag he defeated the 'evil door'. They immediately spot you and rushed for a hug.
"(Y/n)! I missed you so much," they cried, "When you were reported missing, I sacrificed life and limb looking for you."
"(Y/n), respectfully, what the fuck. This is the 3rd time this week," Angel complains stabbing his food.
"Jan! How'd you even find me? I thought you said you'd live 'til you were 150," you exclaim, ignoring Angel's comment, finding Jan's appearance very surprising.
"I WOULD HAVE IF YOUR DUMBASS DIDN'T DIE!" they say whacking you over the head with a clenched fist.
You let out a pained cry holding your head as you got nagged on.
"Hi, uhm, who are you?" Charlie asks.
"The name's Jan, pronounced the way you would January. I'm (Y/n)'s best friend," they say pulling you in headlock with a smile on their face. "Anyway, I'm here to pick her up. We've got a whole day to catch up on."
Before Jan could bolt out of the door with you raised above their head. Alastor stops them in their tracks with a comical screech.
"Hi, uh, can you get out of the way.. please?" Jan tries trying to circle around him and failing when you get plucked out of their hand into his arms.
"And where do you think you're going with my dearest companion?" he asks with hostility laced in his tone. Your eyes quivered as you watched two very important people in your life glare at each other that you had to intervene.
"You're coming with me, right?" Jan pleads giving you puppy dog eyes.
"Oh please. She stays with me," Alastor answers for me making you nervous for how you torn you were. You wanted to talk to your best friend, but you couldn't disappoint Alastor.
After much deliberation and many confused noises coming from you. You finally answered, "I'd like to go with Jan, Sir Alastor. But it'll be only for a day--"
Before you could even finish your sentence, Jan pulls you with a victorious squeal and dashed out the hotel with no time to spare. Leaving behind a flabbergasted Alastor, eye twitching in annoyance at the fact that you actually left his side willingly. Of course, it would happen eventually for an occasion, but that nonetheless it annoyed him to his core.
Everyone looks at Alastor who was emanating a ferocious aura that made everyone tremble in fear. Collectively thinking of the same phrase, 'Oh shit..'
As quickly as it came, a calm washed over them. His anger becoming a mirage unsettling them. He then states, "I guess there's no harm in giving them time to reconnecting with an old friend. I'll be in my studio if you need me."
They watch as his coat sways side to side fading into the distance.
"How much you wanna bet he won't make it at the end of the day," Angel arranges with a smug smile.
"So, how's everything? Last I heard from you was that you've gone missing on TV. You were everywhere! Up until Yuta got arrested for allegedly killing you and a few other murders," they say, eating the cotton candy in their hand.
"Well, I did die cause of Yuta," their jaw drops making you answer their unspoken question, "I got eaten by him."
She looks at you jaw dropping to the floor as well as the cotton candy in her hand before composing themselves and offering me a fist bump, "That's fucking hardcore dude, respect."
"They must've just linked your killings and pinned it on him since you were already gone. Not that you left any evidence for the missing bodies tho," they say dragging you to a bar where you guys' shared drinks.
First shot in you already got tipsy though, it makes Jan laugh. "Hah! Even in hell your alcohol tolerance is still shit!" they laugh at you manically holding their stomach.
You pout slowly losing your rationality and spilled on Jan, "Do you think I'm annoying?"
Jan stops laughing and pulls on a serious face. "No? What makes you say that?" they ask looking directly at you.
"I don't know. Sometimes I'm a bit too much on Sir Alastor. I'm starting to think he dislikes me instead," you continue pouting while you spilled your grievances.
"I don't think you're too much, babe. That's just how you show your affection. Any fucking guy is lucky to have your love," Jan answers truthfully downing their drink, "Why? You like this Alastor guy?"
You moped and sat your cheek on the counter getting all red from the shots you've taken and nodded at them "They're the first one to not be disgusted at me," you explain rolling the glass at your fingertips.
"He likes my cooking. He tells me that he appreciates what I do for him. He even took me out for a birthday dinner just the two of us!" you cried a river of tears falling down on the counter while Jan wordlessly rubs your back, comforting you.
"Sounds like this guy is into you, babe," Jan admits with a smug smile happy that you found someone that actually likes you for who you are.
"You think so?"
"Positive," they smile giving you a thumbs up, "Have I ever been wrong?"
"No..."
"Damn straight! Now let's get shit-faced!!"
Several hours later, we find Alastor in his seat a shadow covering his face absolutely fuming. He abruptly stands up and storms after you. He finds you both at a bar, you are slumping on the counter surrounded by a dozen shot glasses.
"Oh, it's you. Alastor guy," Jan says acknowledging Alastor, red faced from the alcohol. "You gonna take her now? She's out cold probably won't even remember it tomorrow."
Alastor huffs at them while carefully pulling you into his arms. Jan notices the odd gentleness he had with you and smirks. "You're a good guy, Al. Good to know you like her back."
He glares at Jan who figured out his affection for you, as much as he wants to butt heads with them, he respected your friends as he doesn't know much about your life, and he doesn't want you to dislike him despite his rough actions.
"She went off about how you were a perfect gentleman, how much she loves you and a lot more other stuff. You better take good care of her or I'm dragging her ass back to my side," Jan half-heartedly threatened, before raising their right hand and made a serene face and says, "You have my blessing."
He raises his brow while giving them the fattest side eye before teleporting you back to the hotel where Angel and Husk's eyes trailed after your figure in the overlord's arms. With a groan and a roll of his eyes Husk gives Angel a 20 dollar bill.
"Sir Alastor??~ Hello, hehe. Bite me~"
"Ask politely."
"Bite me pretty please with a strawberry on top~"
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TAGLIST:
@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich
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dawndelion-winery · 1 year
Text
For Worse or For Better
Arranged Marriages
Ft. Diluc, Itto, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli
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Diluc:
Your parents were wonderfully close to Crepus, so you knew Diluc from young
He'd always been well-mannered and lovely
That much didn't change even after his trauma
It did hurt when he started shutting you out though
And yes, you did try to call off the engagement that had been set up before Crepus died because you felt he wanted to distance himself from you
You'd only kept it to honour the man's wishes and because Diluc seemed adamant about you
Like, he actually said he would not have anyone else
Not that he pressured you into it though
More of letting you know you didn't have to end it because he most definitely did want you
"Make no mistake, you will be the only person I recite my vows to at the altar. If you long for another, then so be it, but if you want me, then it shall be so."
Itto:
How did this happen?
No, like, fr, how??? Itto doesn't seem like the type to have any thoughts for social climbing and you...well what do you gain from marrying Itto?
Apparently your mother had heard Kujou Sara speak highly of Kuki Shinobu, and since Shinobu worked for Itto, surely he must be a man of even greater talent and character
Now you were having dinner with an extremely boisterous man who ate for three
By the shogun you hoped the bill wouldn't amount to too much
When he suggested a dine and dash? Boy, you were about to just walk right into a cell yourself
It was truly some grace of God that Shinobu came by with Sara and covered your tab (only for you, they made sure to tell Itto off for putting you in such a situation)
"Real sorry about that, honey," the oni said sheepishly. You wanted to hmgive him a piece of your mind, really, when you were certain you'd never hear the end of it at home of you'd gotten a criminal record, but when he slipped his hand in yours, a sheepish grin as he looked at you hopefully, as though pleasing for forgiveness, you found it rather difficult to stay mad.
Childe:
People would kill to be you
The dashing young harbinger?? Who's great with kids??? And very much a family man????
There was only one issue: he hadn't met you yet
His family had written to him about you, eagerly telling him how they were sure they'd found him the perfect match
And he wasn't about to shoot them down when they were so hopeful he'd finally have someone when he was travelling and doing the Fatui's dirty work all the time
So when they'd warmly welcomed you into their home for a simple dinner, you hadn't expected to walk in and see a feast prepared with an empty seat beside yours
You waited for a bit with everyone, wondering who the extra seat was for
And when Childe walked in with a sack full of gifts for all his family members, you sat there awkwardly
Was it an endearing sight? Definitely. But you felt out of place as he pulled out one item after another for everyone
You were certain you wouldn't receive anything, hence the surprise when he sat beside you and handed you a small box
"A little engagement gift for you," he winked. Your mouth hung open, thoughts racing through your mind full of things you wanted to say but weren't sure how - especially not in front of such a crowd, all of whom aww'ed at his gesture. It was after dinner when you'd gotten him alone in the kitchen washing the dishes that you addressed it.
"Engaged? We've only just met Tartaglia."
He tsked at you, playfully leaning in as though he was going to kiss your cheek. When you froze, he grinned by your ear.
"My whole family likes you well enough, and from everything they've told me, I like you well enough too. But if you insist, ice a week before I have to head off. I'm sure I could sweep you off your feet by then, unless you'd like to come with."
Kaeya:
Oh you thought you got lucky when your childhood betrothed grew up to be the charming cavalry captain
Until you realised that charm would never be extended to you because he was just a goofball with you
It was cute though, him picking flower petals with you to determine how your relationship will go
He had a habit of leaving the plucked flower and its final petal with the result on your pillow
(it was always "forever in love" because if it wasn't, he'd just pluck another flower)
You sighed with a laugh at the familiar sight of the plucked flower when you felt arms around your waist as Kaeya embraced you from behind.
You wondered bitterly if there was something wrong between the two of you; you never had that flutter of butterflies in your gut when he was around. Not once did he make your heart leap out of your chest, or cause your lungs to constrict in a way you were sure would suffocate you. Was it a mistake? Yet it didn't feel wrong. There was a frost to his touch that cooled you, calmed you, and almost (most ironically) warmed you.
Zhongli:
Under no circumstances would you ever meet someone who quite commanded the respect and attention of those around him like Rex Lapis did
So when the hooded figure stood before the citizens who so worshiped him, some overly devoted follower enthusiastically proposed a raffle to offer the god a spouse to serve and dote upon him on behalf of the nation
Before he'd even had the chance to decline the offer, the crowd erupted in cheers of agreement, and the flustered god was ushered into a seat as eligible spouses presented themselves before him
You truly had not anticipated the glint that flashed across his eyes as he ever so slightly raised his hood to make eye contact with you
It had been less than a second, and yet all too long as your lungs failed you, the startling amber glow leaving you winded
"I quite like you," he drawled in a low, rumbling hum as he rose from his seat. You looked around, ascertaining that no one else had seen his face, but he didn't seem to like that, as he tilted your chin to have you look at him. Once again, you were faced with the startling gleam of his eyes, so reptilian and sharp. You screwed your eyes shut as he leaned in, the sunlight reflected off his canines. His lips were warm, surprisingly, as they pressed against your forehead.
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Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof
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orchidsangel · 9 months
Text
The holiday season with Jason would be the most comforting thing ever, no matter how you spend it. Thanksgiving through Christmas through New Year is basically you being reminded every day why you love him in the first place. He's so attentive and loving, always doing exactly what you need him to do without ever asking, including skipping out on the annual New Year's Wayne gala to spend the night in with you. It's not like he wanted to go anyway, but if you had, then he'd be rifling through his bedside drawer searching for cufflinks just as he had done many times before when you'd wanted to escape the mundaneness of regular civilian life. This year, however, you'd decided to ring in the new year at home, the illustrious and extravagant gala not seeming too appealing this time around. Now, you sit together on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap while he gently massages the muscle of your calf.
Remnants of dinner and dessert sit in empty bowls on the living room table, streaks of brown ganache on the back of a spoon you'd almost licked clean before Jason had pulled it out of your hand, a hearty laugh escaping the typically quiet man followed by a question of whether it was good or not; it was, he knew it was. They were just a couple of delicious experiments you'd helped him whip up as a last hoorah of sorts before settling down to watch the New Year's Eve performances. A star-studded brigade in sparkly costumes dances around your screen, the backing track of some Hot 100 hit playing loudly over the sound of people cheering, visible breaths appearing on the screen every time the camera pans to the audience. They must be freezing, you think, and pull your blanket over your shoulders at the thought of waiting for the ball to drop in this temperature. You feel Jason gently move your legs off of him, getting up to grab the bowls and plates off the table before putting them in the kitchen sink. The countdown on the TV catches your eye, twenty minutes till midnight, and you stand up from the couch, sliding your slippers on, and walking to the balcony door.
The squeaky sound of the sliding door is faint under the sound of the first fireworks going off. Dashes of gold and white paint the sky, the streams of hot light reflecting in your eyes as you watch night temporarily turn to day. You're not sure how much time passes, but pretty soon, the feeling of warmth surrounding you multiplies tenfold, and strong, muscular arms pull you flush against an equally strong and muscular body. Jason cages you in his arms, keeping you close to him as the last few minutes of the year pass, and his grip is tight, like he's scared he's going to lose you when the clock strikes twelve. The sound of crowds on the street counting down gets louder as the year comes to an end. You and Jason stand in silence, numbness settling into your fingers despite the layers of blanket and man wrapped around you. An eruption of screams breaks out, mixed in with some laughter and Happy New Year's, Jason's cue to turn you around by the waist and kiss you intently, swallowing your surprised gasp until it becomes a smile. New year, new me, they say, but you hoped to god Jason had picked a different resolution because the man in front of you was a man you never wanted to change.
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(more than) inspired by this ask, and ik it's not new years anymore but i hope you still enjoy it !! it's a little rushed at the end, and for that i'm sorry but i wanted to post it before it got too far away from jan 1. wishing you all the best this year, and thank you for 300 followers <3
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ambrosialdesire · 2 months
Note
Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her
hellion
18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI
pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚.───
He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.
You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.
Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.
Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.
He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.
Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.
He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.
Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.
You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.
He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.
"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.
"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.
He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."
"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.
"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.
"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.
He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.
Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.
"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
When he said training, he meant torture.
That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.
Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.
He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?
He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.
He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.
Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.
It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.
He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.
You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.
As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.
One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.
Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.
You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.
No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.
You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.
"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.
Fuck, he's really insane.
Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.
You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.
"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"
Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.
"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."
He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.
"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."
Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.
Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.
"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"
He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?
This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.
"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.
Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."
You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.
"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.
Porco never said your name before.
You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.
With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.
The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.
This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.
Yet, that didn't happen.
"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."
The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.
"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.
"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
You awoke to find yourself in a forest.
Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.
Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.
How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.
There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.
"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.
"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.
"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.
"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."
Wait. What does he mean by transform?
A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.
Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.
What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.
Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.
Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.
You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.
As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.
There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.
You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.
You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.
Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.
The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.
The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.
What. The. Hell.
"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.
"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"
You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.
"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"
There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
Silence.
There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.
Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.
You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.
"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."
"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.
"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.
"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.
Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.
You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.
"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.
"Yes! Y-yes I will!"
"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.
"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."
Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."
His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"
You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.
"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."
Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.
"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.
The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.
Porco finally got what he paid for.
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ilys00ga · 8 months
Text
𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.
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➞ pair: yoongi x reader.
➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.
➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.
➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)
ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33
★ MASTERLIST.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.
How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?
Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.
He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.
His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.
Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.
He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.
He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?
He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.
One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.
With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”
You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.
Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.
As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.
Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.
Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.
Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”
You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.
He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.
“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”
Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.
Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”
“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”
He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.
At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.
Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.
Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.
Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.
It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.
Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.
“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.
“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.
There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”
You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.
He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.
“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.
“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.
Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.
Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.
"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.
The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.
"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.
"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.
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the-forbidden-pookie · 2 months
Text
Unknown motives
Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, attempt at comedy, fluff with a dash of something else, slight use of profanity, reader is short for plot reasons.
Pairing: Anton Ivanov x reader
#Free Palestine🇵🇸
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sorry," the large man says as he approaches you "I got held up by this strange guy asking if I wanted to play cards or something on my way here... Hm? You haven't started interviewing our president yet, have you? Don't forget to lower the mic stand a bit."
You blink up at him in surprise, and suppress an eye roll. You can't help it, everything about him was giving... the same vibe you see in the old capital era movies, the frat boy types. Still, you respond cordially enough "Huh? Oh you mean the reporter lady from earlier? No she left already, I'm the new part timer." You say confidently, deciding you'll end this conversation quickly if you looked sufficiently assertive. The work site was plenty noisy too, surely he'll get annoyed from talking out here soon enough.
The man's hand was on its way to the back of his head, his eyes trained away from you before he halts and looks back "A new part timer? Who the hell hired you?"
"I hired myself." You say simply.
"Ha, you hired yourself? Really now? And who made you think you were qualified enough to work here?"
You don't bother giving your real reasons "The field of construction calls for me." Is what you say instead.
"Calls for you, huh?" To your surprise , the man takes your words seriously, and you notice a name tag that introduces him as Senior Staff and On Site Project Manager Anton Ivanov. Wow, what a mouthful, no wonder he seems to know who exactly does and doesn't work here.
"You look like a runt... Can you handle the job? Do you even know how to tell apart a Gauging trowel from a Margin trowel?"
You blink owlishly back at him, startled out of your thoughts "A what now?"
"Exactly my point! How about I test you, then? First, go get me a torque wrench."
"Ahaha" you laugh awkwardly "Uh yup! I totally know what that is!" Why is there no connection in this place? I need to Google this! You panic internally.
"Oh really? Well then go get one. It's right by the tool box in the west warehouse." He points at said building "I'll be waiting here."
You quickly turn away before he sees your expression descend into panic "Mhm, be right back boss man!"
"Hah, what's with that look?... Wait... Hey! Come back here!"
You ignore him and use your small frame to your advantage and easily weave through construction workers left and right, most of them admittedly much bigger than you. Still, you disappear into the crowd and easily loose anyone trying to stop you. Once you make it to the warehouse, you go ask someone on duty about the tool, and find a bear gentleman squinting at a clipboard.
"Excuse me sir." You interrupt politely "The project manager sent me to grab a tool for him, can you tell me where-" you pause. What did he call it again? You stare at the fellow in front of you as he stares back. Once it became apparent you weren't going to finish the sentence any time soon, he points at a collection of crates in one section of the warehouse
"I'm busy so help yourself kid." He says, then leaves before you can correct him about you not being a kid.
Welp.
You go look though the crates, hoping any of them would be marked or named, and while some of them are, most of those are in Russian.
You don't speak Russian.
You sigh, and decide nothing will get done if you keep standing here, so you grab a random heavy tool, and lug it back to Anton, who surprisingly did wait for you where he said he would.
"I'm back! Did you miss me?" You pant from the exertion, trying to hide the toll this is taking on you with jest "Is- is this it?"
Anton looks dumbfounded for a moment before speaking "...That's a welder's mask, kid. The kind bear Thirens use."
You look down "So that's what the glass part is for... Hey I'm not a kid! You're just way too tall!"
Anton smirks, amused with your response "You're not a kid, huh? Then how old are you, shorty?"
You look away. "Hmph. You should never ask a lady about her age! It's improper!" You dodge the question. You may be an adult, but there's a non zero chance that once you show him your ID he thinks you're presenting him with a fake one and kick you out immediately. You'd rather not give him the chance. "So how do I go about properly signing up to join Belobog Heavy Industries anyway?"
Anton chuckles, seemingly getting a kick out of this "Ha! It's funny that a shorty like you can call herself a lady. You're barely at half my height. Anyways, if you wanna work here, I'll have to assess your experience and qualifications first."
You are certainly not looking forward to that.
"... Isn't there someone else that can do that...? Maybe someone I don't have to crane my neck all the way up just to look at their face?" You sweat drop.
Anton laughs, thoroughly enjoying this situation "Nope, not a chance. You're stuck with me, shorty. Now, quit complaining and tell me what you can do with those tiny arms of yours."
You crouch down and grab a random rock, then stack a few more on top of it. Once done you stand back up and point at your creation. "Construction...?"
Anton raises an eyebrow, looking the most baffled you've seen him all day, and that's saying something. He stares at your attempt before he lets out a disbelieving laugh "Construction? You call that... whatever it is, construction? I'm not sure if I should be impressed, concerned, or just downright baffled."
You don't hesitate "Which one's more likely to get me hired?"
"Anton crosses his arms, looking you up and down as he seriously consideres your question. His earnestness is starting to get to you.
"Hm, I suppose I'd be impressed, because it takes a lot of audacity to call that thing construction. So I'm going to give you a chance."
He grins slightly.
"Spend the day around the site today but don't go past any yellow lines without permission. If you still want to join us afterwards, come find me and my bro at the end of the day at my office. We'll discuss your new position in the company then, shorty."
You can't help it, caught off guard by his genuine offer, you let out a huge, surprised smile, no sarcasm or barbs in sight "Wait really?!"
You can vaguely tell Anton is taken aback by your response, but he quickly covers it up with a smirk "Of course. It'd be fun to have someone so short around here to tease, it's not like I can mess with the president after all." He says jokingly.
At your resulting glare, he chuckles and ruffles your hair with his large hand.
For a second, you feel dumbfounded at the overly familiar act, but you quickly regain your composure and push his hand away "Sorry head pats are reserved for friendship level 8 or higher."
"Oh? 8 or higher, huh? That's a pretty high number. I guess I'll have to work my way up to earn the privelage then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the work day comes to a close, you make your way to Anton's office, directed by the scowling red head girl that often came to check on you throughout the day. She awkwardly waves off your genuine thanks.
I guess everyone here looks scary but is actually nice? You wonder.
"Hey there, shorty." Anton perks up from his slumped position as he sees you come in. You notice his desk and seat appear comically small when compared to his size, it doesn't help that the office room is rather cramped. "Did you have a fun day of "construction" today?"
You sigh "I tried to help, but everyone kept telling me I'd just get in the way." You say as you unceremoniously drop in a guest chair by his wooden desk "Please hurry up and give me an official position at the company."
Anton's smirk softens as he sees your dejected expression.
"Heh, I can see you really want to fit in here, huh? My bro and I really appreciate that kind of spirit. Alright, I'll do you a favor and give you an official position."
He seems to think for a moment before speaking "How about you become the company's official short stack? We do lack a mascot."
Your eye twitches involuntarily "My dude you are giving my fist an erection. Are you trying to get socked in the face?"
Anton doubles over his desk laughing, a full body laugh with his shoulders shaking and his mouth gasping for air. Well it was a very good line wasn't it? You inwardly give yourself a pat on the back for causing that reaction. Finally when the bursts of laughter subside and he can actually breathe again, the taller male leans down and gets close to your face with his signature smirk on.
"Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, you're too short to land a proper punch, anyway."
Anton's smirk fades into a more serious expression this time as he considers your question. He taps his chin in thought.
You deadpan. Bro cannot be acting all nonchalant after he almost went into cardiac arrest from your joke "Back on topic," you say impatiently "any real positions I can fill up?"
He looks you up and down for what feels like the millionth time this day, before speaking "If I'm being honest, the only jobs you could fit would probably be serving food at the cafeteria or maybe assisting in office work, hardly something that would feel like construction work."
"Hmm, let's see..."
You try not to pout "But just today I saw a girl shorter and definitely younger then me, she was working hands on and-"
"The president," Anton interrupts "has many years of experience, she also may not look it to your untrained eyes but she has a lot of practical muscles that make up for her size disadvantage."
You blanch That was the President?! I'd been calling her girlie-pop all day! I think I even called her pookie once?!
Suddenly, all the strange looks the staff were throwing you throughout the day made a lot more sense.
"That said..." Anton brings you back out of your thoughts "How about we start you off as an assistant? I'll have you work under me, and I'll show you the ropes around here, it would also count as a training period. If you prove yourself competent, I'll consider promoting you to an official position."
Your eyes gain a shine to them at the offer he went of his way to give, and you feel a bit remorseful at all the attitude you've been giving him "Wait, wouldn't that be troublesome for you?"
Anton shrugs lightly, that smirk returning to his face.
"Troublesome? Nah, I'd get a kick out of having a pipsqueak like you following me around. And who knows, maybe you can learn a thing or two from a professional like me." He says, pointing proudly at his chest.
You deadpan yet again. "I take back the good thoughts I started having of you, what was I thinking?" You tell him as you shake your head in mock despair.
Anton laughs at your blunt response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! There's Shorty's short temper kicking in again. Come on, don't be so uptight . I'm just messin' with ya."
He grins widely, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. He then playfully ruffles your hair with his hand.
You push his hand away again "My head isn't for patting unless you're level 8 friendship I said!"
Anton laughs good naturedly, and obediently removes his hand.
"Ha! Still going on about that friendship level thing? Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself for now. But just know, I have plenty of other ways to bother you, Shorty."
"I've known you for only one day and yet I don't doubt that one bit."
Anton crosses his arms and leans against the nearby wall, looking down at you.
Still, you can't resist messing with him right back, so you get up and walk away "Nevermind I'll go see if the convenience store down the street is still hiring-"
"Oh, you have no idea. Stick around, shorty, and you'll see what I mean. You haven't experienced true torment yet." His voice has a teasing quality to it and you can tell he puts extra care in making that obvious to compensate for his naturally intimidating size and face.
Anton quickly scrambles off the wall and grabs your arm, halting your retreat "Oh no you don't. You're not getting out of this that easily." He smirks, as if he wasn't floundering less then a second ago. His grip on your arm is gentle yet unrelenting "You're stuck with me, Shorty. You already accepted the job as my assistant, remember? You can't back out now."
You sigh dramatically, and hear as Anton laughs at your theatrics. You then remember the two of you haven't properly introduced yourselves to each other yet "I guess I have to be a woman of my word." You say in mock reluctance as he lets go of your arm "It's a little late, but my name is Y/n by the way, L/n Y/n. What's yours?"
His smirk slowly fades into a genuine smile "Oh, we never did properly introduce ourselves, huh? Hah, guess we were so busy bickering we forgot about the formalities." He extends his hand for a handshake "Name's Anton Ivanov. Remember that, ok Shorty?"
You grasp his hand, his grip strong and sturdy "Like I said, my name's Y/n. Since we're on the more serious topics, is there a contract I need to sign or am I in a trial period for now?"
Anton shakes your hand gently before responding, seemingly very aware of how much bigger his hand is as it is engulfs yours. If you didn't know better you'd think he's nervous to accidentally hurt you. "Yeah trial period's a fitting name, and no contract signings just yet. We'll see how you do working under me before we worry about paperwork. So, Shorty, are you ready to get started as my assistant?"
"How early does the work day start here?" You ask, forcefully dragging your eyes away after they started staring at his chest a bit too long. You can't help it tho! It's more comfortable for your neck to stare at that region!
Anton scratches his chin thoughtfully, considering your question and blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.
"Hmm, work usually starts around 6 in the morning. We like to get an early start here at Belobog. Why do you ask?"
You gulp "Wow, bright and early with the sunrise huh?"
Anton valiantly tries to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He fails, but you suppose it's the effort that counts.
"Yep, bright and early. We don't like to waste time around here. And hey, don't worry about adjusting to the early hours, you'll get used to it soon enough, shorty."
"I sure hope so." You sweat drop, then your eyes drift to the arm sized device strapped to his arm. "Is that the main tool you use?" You motion with your chin towards the machine he still has strapped to his arm despite the work day being already over.
Anton follows your gaze, and he brightens considerably at your question. "This is my bro, it's a pile driver." He says seriously, and it doesn't take long to realize he's not joking.
He grins, looking down at his arm-mounted weapon affectionately "My bro and I go way back, and it got my back in both work and combat." He says proudly.
"I guess you could say it is, in a way, like family. It's been with me through a lot."
He pats the pile driver, a fond look in his eyes.
Your eyes soften "Well, can't wait to see you and your bro in action once I officially start!" You exclaim, mentally cataloguing the pile driver as Anton's Emotional Support Companion in you head.
"So, I hear Belobog Industries has dorms for all staff members, are newbies like me included or do I need to find my own lodgings around here?" You change the subject, because while you didn't mind hearing more about Anton and getting to know him better, you did still have an objectif in coming here "I wanna know if I'll need to make moving arrangement soon."
Anton's grin widens at your enthusiasm and what he reads as genuine interest in the company.
"Ha! That eager to get in on the action, huh?" he guesses "You're going to fit right in here."
He pats your head lightly, and you're starting to understand it's meant to be a playful gesture rather than a condescending or even teasing one.
"And don't worry about lodging. We provide dorms for all staff members, including newbies like you. You don't need to worry about finding a place to stay."
"Well that's convenient," you say as you bat his arm away, almost by reflex now "I guess I better go get my stuff sorted by tomorrow then." You say as you shift to get going, before a loud bang outside Anton's office door startles you both, and a tall woman comes barreling in.
"Anton!" She all but shouts "I got it! I cracked the code uncle Khors left behind!"
Next to you, Anton is initially startled by the sudden entrance, but he soon regains his composure. He throws a look at you, as if making sure you're not scared off by the taller woman's antics, then turns back to her, his face a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
"Grace? You cracked the code? That's great, but we need to tell the president before you -"
But this Grace person is no longer listening, as her attention is now in on you "Huh, I didn't know it was bring your kid to work day? Wait who's kid is this?"
You deadpan "For the last time. I'm an adult."
At your claim, she looks you up and down and it's quite obvious she doesn't believe you. "A highschooler maybe." She murmurs under her breath.
Anton quickly interjects before she can say more, and you can hear the hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks "Grace, Y/n's not a high schooler..."
You finally sigh and take out your ID card, at least Anton seemed to believe you so you didn't think he'd take it for a fake ID.
"Oh you poor thing!" The woman says after thoroughly comparing your face to the image on the card "who malnourished you?"
"I'm not malnourished." You say with a tired sigh, but it's not like you can explain your situation, so you don't think you come off as very believable.
Anton gives Grace a sarcastic look as she tries to save her mistake. He rolls his eyes, but a small smile still forms on his face.
"Well!" Grace says "Whatever you two are discussing can wait, let's get her to the cafeteria before it closes, someone is in desperate need of a big meal-" At Anton's warning look, Grace amends "Uhh that person being Anton! A bear sized fellow like him definitely needs to eat lots!"
"Nice save there, Grace. Real subtle."
I don't know what these two's relationship is, but they seem close. You wonder internally.
And as Anton glances at you, it seems he misreads your pondering expression as one of doubt about yourself because he says: "Don't you worry, Shorty. You're fine. I've met actual malnourished people, and trust me, you're in the clear."
...why is he such a green flag?! You have to admit to yourself it'd be quite the shame if he is dating Grace.
"But it's true that we're all hungry" Anton continues while nodding "Grace is right, and let me tell you, the cafeteria food here is really good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on it, shorty."
You nod back, liking the idea "Alrighty then, please lead the way." You go for a polite voice but at Grace's giggle you wonder if you over did it.
Anton grins and gestures for both of you to follow him.
"Aight, I'll show you the way to the cafeteria."
He starts walking and motions for you and Grace to fall in step beside him.
Grace starts telling you both all about the mysterious code the former president of Belobog Industries had left behind, and while fairly sure the information should remain confidential, it wasn't like you could stop the woman on her tirade, you notice Anton doesn't even try.
Then again, they probably think I haven't a single clue of what she's talking about.
As the three of you near what you assume is the cafeteria, Grace stops dead in her tracks. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I know I was the one that suggested coming here but I just got an alert and I need to go back and check on my children!" Grace exclaims showing a notification with a warning symbol for an icon. By children, you figure she's talking about machines or software code.
Anton hardly looks surprised. He shakes his head "Hah, typical Grace. Don't worry about it, we can grab food ourselves. You go take care of your babies."
Anton pats her on the shoulder reassuringly "Just make sure to eat something later, okay?"
Grace nods, and you expect her to hurry off towards her workstation but instead she moves to your side and whispers in your ear "My intuition tells me you're a good person, so good luck, I'm rooting for you!" And as you blink in surprise, the woman is already rushing off. You realize that at some point you'd made the judgement she was wholly focused on her mechanic creations and had little attention to her surroundings, but that had to be untrue. She read the situation in seconds and seems to be setting you two up on a date of sorts.
Anton on the other hand watched the entire exchange with one eyebrow raised.
As Grace runs off towards her creations, he turns back to you with a slightly quizzical look.
"What'd she whisper to you?"
You give him a sly smile "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Anton gives you a playful glare in return and crosses his arms "Oh, now you're just teasing me. Come on, spill the beans Shorty. Let me in on the secret."
You skip ahead and push the cafeteria double doors open "Oh wow this place smells great, it's suddenly making me feel so hungry! We better get some food quick!"
Behind you, you hear the taller male let out a hearty chuckle at your unsubtle change of topic "A convenient case of selective hearing, huh? Okay, I'll let it slide for now."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After filling your trays with food the two of you choose somewhere to sit, and with the cafeteria mostly empty it was like you had the whole place to yourselves.
Time to satisfy our empty stomachs.
Or so you thought.
You barely get to sit down before Anton gets a call, and he immediately gets up to take it. You wonder for a few seconds if it would be rude or not to start eating without him, however the call doesn't take that long.
"Sorry about that." Anton says, but when you look up to face him it's like looking at a different person. His attention is still on his phone and the set of his shoulders is stiff, but most of all, his smile is nowhere to be found "Something came up, you can start without me and uh- I'll be right back."
He's gone before you can get a word in edgewise.
Well, now you've been subjected to the inconvenience of eating alone in a cafeteria. At least it's mostly empty. You take exactly two bites of your delicious burger (it seems he was right about the food in this place) before you're interrupted, by Grace again this time.
"Hey! You're Anton's girlfriend!"
You almost choke-
"Where did he go- I think I messed up and I need his help before Sweet Pea finds out!"
Wow... Where do I even start with this one...
You decide to go with the basics "I'm not his girlfriend. I don't know someone called him away I think. Why are you afraid of a vegetable finding out about your mistake...?"
"So he's not here? Oh no." The woman turns on her heel and leaves.
You don't hesitate and follow after her, you'd rather not have to sit alone in a cafeteria, you just hope no one will put away your food while you're gone.
The real problem tho, is how much taller and faster she was. By the time you make it to the double doors you have no clue which direction she went in.
I think she went this way last time?
You pick a direction and at some point the smoke alarms start beeping in the halls, and you hear footsteps somewhere in the building rushing to and fro. Sure enough, you find yourself in a technician's lab at the end of the route. The only problem is, Grace is not here.
You walk in.
It doesn't take long to figure out what was causing a commotion, as the smoke alarm was beeping on and off above a smoking machine component. You step closer and take a look.
Hmm I'm not familiar with this model, but...
Your head turns towards the computer setup on the desk, warning and error messages flashing on the monitor. You sit down and crack your knuckles.
Let's give this a go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anton comes back to the cafeteria, finding you right where he left you.
"Heyo Shorty, sorry that took a while, wha- you're not eating yet?"
"Ah- I nibbled at the burger a bit, but I didn't wanna start without you so..." You lie smoothly.
"What the- I told you you could start," Anton says plopping into his seat "now I feel bad for making you wait so long." He says with a- is that a kicked puppy face? You didn't even know it was possible on him.
You instantly start feeling bad "Oh no worries, I didn't even feel the time pass!" I was fairly occupied anyways "Oh! I heard a lot of noise out there, what was going on?" You smoothly switch subjects, grabbing a hold of your burger and taking a bite.
"Hn? Oh yeah, the smoke alarm was ringing in multiple branches but there wasn't a fire in any of them, the system was pranking us I guess." He stabs his steak and starts cutting it "I tried to go back right after but Grace came to find me cuz something was acting up, so I go on a detour to her lab, we got there and whatever she needed a hand with just righted itself so I hurried back." He takes a bite of meet and waits till he's swallowed it to continue "You sure I didn't take too long?"
You smile "Really it's fine, it wasn't that long at all."
For the first seven to ten minutes of you two sitting together again, you both give your undivided attention to your food filled trays. Finally, after devouring an entire burger you break the silence "I'm gonna be honest with you, Anton, I had you all wrong when I first saw you this morning." You say between mouthfuls of fries, keeping one hand in front of your mouth whenever there's food in it and you need to talk.
Anton grins at your admission, taking a sip of his drink before replying "Hah, yeah, I can tell. You were giving me the eye roll of all eye rolls this morning. I take it you've changed your opinion of me now then?"
"Well, you have a very imposing build and with your resting scowl face I thought you'd be... Well nevermind, turns out you're someone who helps those in need... you also got a nice laugh." You end softly.
You hear a utensil drop, and you look up to see Anton's fork fell onto his steak, but more interesting was the deer caught in headlights look he was giving you.
Just as fast as it comes however he pushes it away, regaining his composure in record speed "Ha! I can see why you thought that. I do have a bit of a mean mug when I'm not smiling, though I've been told my laugh sounds like a bear's roar, so the nice laugh bit is definitely a first!" He grins at you, and you wonder if the lighting is playing tricks on you because you think there's some light redness at the top of his cheekbones. He then continues "But you're right, I do try to be helpful and kind, especially to those in need. And I'd like to think my sense of humor isn't half bad either."
You're not sure how to respond to that, the man has been nothing but forthcoming and honest with you all day while you've been... not.
Instead, you glance at the wall clock and say "I think I need to head out soon." As you clean off the last of your fries. "I came here for a job interview but I somehow ended up meeting you and uh- I really enjoyed it! I just wouldn't wanna walk back home too late in the dark y'know?"
"Anton looks at the time on his phone and nods in understanding."
"Yeah, it is getting late. It's not safe to walk around at night, especially for short stuff like you. I don't want you getting lost between the cracks in the sidewalk or something." He gives you a playful smirk.
You go to reply, deadpan tone and expression at the ready when he interrupts you.
"But... if you want, I could always give you a ride home. I have a company car parked nearby."
You hesitate " ...you already payed for the meal, which I'll totally pay you back for by the way! So I don't want to trouble you more..."
Anton shakes his head and waves off your concerns "Nah, don't worry about it. It's just a meal, it's no trouble at all. And don't worry about paying me back either, consider it a welcome to the company gift." He grins, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially "Besides, you wouldn't be troubling me. It's my pleasure to help you out, Shorty."
You sweat drop "What's the point of me giving you my name if you'll just keep calling me that?"
Anton chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you "Oh, lighten up a bit. I like giving nicknames to people. It's a nice way to bond, y'know? Besides, it's kind of fitting, don't you think? Given your, uh, petite stature."
You glance at his emptied out tray, the mountains of food he'd heaped onto it already gone "Well, the bonding experience can wait till tomorrow, if you're done, shall we get going?"
Anton leans back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile "Yeah, I'm all done. Let's hit the road." He stands up and stretches, then motions for you to follow him "Come on, Shorty. Let's get you home safe and sound."
You follow after him "Tell me honestly, Anton." You say as he grabs his tray to place it on the racks nearby, when you go to grab yours he beats you to it and smoothly takes that one as well, stacking it on his.
"I could've carried that!" You whine.
Anton's infuriatingly attractive grin makes another appearance "Oh, I know you could've carried it. But I'm just being a gentleman, shorty. Can't have you doing all the hard work before you even start tomorrow, you'll get even tinier!" He ends, his tone is teasing as usual but his eyes softened up considerably, and the look he's giving you has your insides turning to mush.
You flush. "Uh- as I was saying, are you maybe a bear in disguise? Because you just cleaned off a mountain of food alone."
Anton laughs at your flushed expression and your playful accusation, the way he's keeping his composure somehow just feels unfair, though you guess for someone working in construction keeping his cool would be a must.
"Ha! Bear in disguise, huh?" He replies "Nah, I'm just a guy with an appetite. You know, working here, I need the extra energy." Then his grin turns cocky "Plus, it takes a lot of food to fuel all this muscle." He gives a playful flex, showing off his bicep with a smirk.
You give a playful eye roll "Oh wow, and you're so humble too!" You say flatly "What a catch wow!"
Anton lets out a hearty laugh at your sarcastic remark and gives you a playful salute "Oh, you know it. I'm the total package. Good looks, charm, wit, and the appetite to match." He grins, clearly enjoying the banter, which you've come to enjoy as well.
"But I'll have you know, there are quite a few women here who think so too."
You deadpan "Good for you. Give me there number, I'll help set you up."
Anton chuckles, then scratches his chin in mock thoughtfulness, then his expression turns into a grin and he gives you a playful nudge.
"But why would I need their number when I've got yours, Shorty?"
You blink "Huh? But I never gave my number...?"
"Yeah, not yet you didn't, but I have good intuition. Call it a sixth sense." He taps his temple with a wink. And it's telling me a certain cute Shorty is interested."
You flush harder "Well your sixth sense must be malfunctioning this time." You say walking ahead, trying to keep him from seeing your beat red face. Unfortunately, with how much taller he is, he catches up by the next second.
When he's by your side, he wastes no time laughing at your flushed face "Hah, you're forgetting who you're dealing with, Shorty. These long legs of mine give me an unfair advantage."
You don't reply.
"And are you sure my sixth sense is malfunctioning this time? Cuz you're lookin' real flustered."
"You're imagining things, maybe it's time to visit the eye doctor?" You huff.
"Oh? Is that so? Hm, maybe my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. Let me have a closer look, just in case."
He places one hand on your shoulder to halt your walk and leans in closer, making a show of examining your face.
Your eyes go wider then your older sister's saucers "Hmm strange, I'm getting a clear view of your rosy cheeks right now, and my sixth sense is telling me it's not from the cold."
You consider how to get the upper hand in this situation, but with your muddled mind it gets a bit tricky. You end up going with the first thing that comes to mind "You're right, it's from the heat, it's really getting hot in hear for some reason-" You start, before realizing belatedly how suggestive that sounded "Uh- wait no-" You flush further.
Anton grins at your unintentional innuendo, and raises an eyebrow, playing along "Oh really? Getting hot in here, hm?" He looks around, feigning innocence "Huh, seems like a comfortable temperature to me. Maybe it's just you, Shorty."
You cover your tomato colored face with your arms "Oh enough already, you win so just stop!"
Anton laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Can't have the cute shorty overheating on me now, can I?" in a quieter, more gentle tone, he adds, "But seriously, your blush is adorable."
You groan "Anton!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anton pulls up outside your house in the company car and turns to you with a smile "Here we are, shorty. Home sweet home."
You nod "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble."
Anton shakes his head and waves off your apologies "No trouble at all, I enjoyed the company. Besides, I couldn't just let you walk home alone in the dark." He grins, then adds in a playful tone, "Especially not when you're such a cute Shorty."
You deadpan "Don't make me take it back." You consider something then say "Give me your phone for a sec."
Anton raises an eyebrow, but obediently hands you his phone "Sure, but why do you need it? You gonna put your number in without me asking?"
"Nice try. I'll give you my Inter Knot contact for work stuff. You're not high level enough to get my number yet."
"High enough level, huh? Am I just a lowly level one in your eyes right now?"
Not looking up from your typing you reply "You made it all the way up to level three on day one, Congrats! But your nickname for me is shorty, I don't know how to feel about that yet."
Anton laughs, seemingly amused by your rating system for him "Only level three? Damn, I was hoping for a higher rank. But you're right, the nickname 'Shorty' might be deducting some points."
He grins, then adds with a wink, "Maybe if I find a better nickname, I'll rank up higher in your eyes... or maybe I'll just keep calling you 'Shorty' just to annoy you."
You deadpan "Well that would be very in character for you wouldn't it?" You say handing him back the phone.
Anton takes it back with a smirk, clearly unrepentant for his nickname choice "Hah, you know me so well already, Shorty. I gotta admit, your deadpan face is just too fun to tease." He leans in closer, unable to resist poking at you further "Besides, the way you turn all tomato-red whenever you're flustered is just priceless."
You push his face back with your hand "Goodnight Anton, see you tomorrow." You say as you unlock the cat door and head out.
"Haha, goodnight, Shorty. Get some rest. Sweet dreams."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And as you lock the car door and leave, Anton checks his phone, leaving the Inter Knot app to check the CCTV footage he has access to. The one that clearly shows you entering and leaving Grace's lab. He barely mumbles out "Till tomorrow then... Y/n. Hopefully I'll figure out what you're really up to soon."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hmm did I manage to make the reader subtly mysterious? 🤔 Tell me guys if y'all want a part two. LavenderLily you can tell me directly 👀
And as always, Free Palestine ❤️ 🇵🇸
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the-broken-truth · 1 year
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Civil Obsession: Platonic Yandere Mafia Boss Miguel O'Hara w/ Civilian Teenager Reader [Part 1]
Summary: [Name] tries to lead a normal life in New York, despite the presence of gangs and violence. [Name] resides with their parents who run a Drycleaner Business and attends school while working as an animator and artist on the side. While hurrying to school one day, [Name] accidentally spills coffee on a man wearing an expensive suit. [Name] offers the man their business card for a free dry cleaning service before hastily departing.
[New York - Your Point Of View]
The Streets of New York City were crowded - as always - but that didn't stop me from rushing down the sidewalks of New York, dashing through the slim openings between people's bodies with a coffee in my dominant hand and my other hand pressing down on my satchel that was on my shoulder and across my body but I didn't want my flap to open and my art tablet to fly out or hit someone in the face; I was not in the mood to get sued and possibly robbed but I was pressed for time. I overslept once again and I was late for school - well, late for breakfast at school; I still had about half an hour to get there and I was going to be late, then they were going to call my parents, then my parents were going to be pissed off at me, and for punishment, they were going to make me spend my weekend working in the Drycleaners when I could be finishing commissions and getting paid for them.
I'm getting beside myself. Allow me to introduce myself: I am [Name] of the [Surname] Family of New York City. I'm the only child of my family, thus making me the heir to the family business - a Drycleaner Service that was well known in the neighborhood where I lived in New York. While I respect the business and everything my parent did to make a living for themselves and myself, I found my passions somewhere else - in the world of Animation and Digital Art. I'm going to school to become an animator and my parents support my choice but I agreed to keep my passion aside and focus on helping my family with the business whenever they need my help - I work with them on the weekends when I don't have commissions to fill but sometimes I need to...
Suddenly, the door before me opened and my path was obscure by a large body, my eyes widened as I crashed into the massive body, squeezing the cup in my hand, causing the cup's lid to pop open and spill all over the person's red velvet vest - that was trimmed in white and in the shape of a spider on the chest. I fell on my butt and looked up at the person before me: A Towering Man with dark brown skin, dressed in a velvet red trimmed in cream white in the shape of a spider on his chest, black dress pants, shoes, and a black silk jacket over his shoulders. He looked down at me with his blood-red eyes as his short brown hair waved in the wind. People around me stepped away from me and the man. I quickly rose to my feet and bowed my head.
"I'm so sorry, Sir! I was in a rush and..." Suddenly, I was pushed away from the man by a large man in a tuxedo, black glasses, and an earpiece.
"Step away from the boss!" The bodyguard demanded as I steadied myself, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THE BOSS' SUIT COSTS, YOU FILTHY BRAT?!"
"Hey, I said I was sorry! I'm in a rush!" I yelled back at the man but lifted his hand to punch me when the man - The 'Boss' - grabbed the man's wrist and pushed him away from me before walking up to me and looking down at me.
"You shouldn't run in the busy sidewalks like that, you never know who might be in your way." The voice of this guy...deep but smooth...full of authority but gentle.
"I'm really sorry for your suit, Sir. Oh!" I reached into my satchel and pulled out a business card for my parents' shop before holding it out to the man, "Please, go here and they will clean your suit - tell them [Name] sent you and they will clean your suit for free. I'm really sorry about your suit but I have to leave!" I watched as he took the card from me before I walked around him and started running again - I was in the home stretch - 10 Minutes left before I was late!
[Mysterious Man's Point Of View]
I watched as the young one ran away from me and turned the corner - must be heading to the local school. I looked at the card in my gloved hand.
"[Surname's] Drycleaning." I said as I looked at my bodyguard and handed him the card. "Give to this location. I need to get my suit cleaned." I said as I got into the back seat of my limo before my bodyguard closed the door and got into the front seat with the driver before handing him the card and taking off down the street.
'Just who are you [Name] and why does it feel like the two of us will meet again?' I thought as I folded my arms across my chest and closed my eyes - all I could see was their face and it made me smile.
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killuagirly · 2 months
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BALLROOM ENCOUNTERS
CHARACTERS: Ciel Phantomhive
SUMMARY: Ballrooms are meant for dancing, but a young boy attending your party doesn't seem to agree with that statement. I wonder why that is?
NOTES: I'm trying to write newer fics so I can delete my older works and redo my masterlists. It's like a complete overwrite of my blog essentially, I can't wait until it's done! It feels like my writing has gotten much better, and although they did get interaction before, I don't really want to keep old writing on my blog!! :(
CONTENT: Female Reader
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⟶ CIEL PHANTOMHIVE !
A ball, you had decided to host that night. You weren't too enthusiastic about the task of finding a suitor, but that's the weight that comes with being a lady of high status. Although you were young, prearranged marriages were common amongst aristocrats, you were no exception.
However, you drew the high end of the stick, and your parents were generous enough to allow you to attempt to find a suitor for yourself. They would have to approve of course, considering you were to be the next family heir, they wouldn't want you going off marrying someone without a well-known name. You weren't too upset about this condition anyways given that it was to be expected.
The task proved harder than you had assumed, but there was no pressure coming from any higher-ups, so you were in the clear for now. Still, it's better to start searching before your times of leisure end. The whole purpose of this ball, though not directly stated in any sent invitations, was to make the looking process a bit easier on yourself.
Interchanging melodies played in the ballroom as you chatted away with some of your guests, not finding anything that stood out to you in most. It wasn't like you were looking for a fairytale, although a girl could dream, just someone who wouldn't bore you to death. You had just finished up a conversation with a young man a bit older than you. He was polite and charming, but nothing special.
You let out a barely audible sigh once he turned and walked off in the direction of a crowd, feeling as though this mission was never-ending. You scanned slowly over the people chattering and indulging in food prepared for the party, until something caught your eye. A young boy who looked to be your age, and on the short side. He was dressed in a black and navy-blue formal suit with silver accents and held a stern expression on his face.
He must've been a wallflower, because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to engage in any conversation with other guests. A tall, elegant man stood by his side in classy servant's attire. Your curiosity was at a peak for the night, your feet guiding you effortlessly towards the pair. The young boy noticed you approaching and redirected his gaze elsewhere, most likely in an attempt to seem uninterested.
You ignored the indirectly rude gesture and sent him a smile, a sudden realization coming over you. This was the Earl Phantomhive you've heard about time and time again. You'd sent him an invitation, but you didn't actually expect him to attend. "Earl Phantomhive, so nice to meet you. I wasn't expecting you to show up," you greeted. He inaudibly sighed, his refined butler standing tall next to him edging him on.
"Yes, and you must be Lady [Surname]? It's nice to meet you as well, though I do question your low expectations of me," he spoke, although you couldn't tell whether it was sarcasm or seriousness. "Ah, I'm sorry. I just meant since you have such high status, I wouldn't have expected you to be bothered to attend a ball without business intentions." The Earl seemed bothered, as if he was internally agreeing with your statement.
The dashing butler beside him spoke up, "You see, my young master and I were notified that you were in search of a suitor. He is in a similar situation at the moment, and I do recall him speaking of you fondly," a devilish smirk played on his lips, watching his young master's face quickly become flushed, "So we decided it would be for the best to be in attendance in case you take any interest."
"I see," a smile tugged at your lips upon learning that the Earl Phantomhive had taken an interest in you, although you can't recall ever having met him before this encounter, "would you be so kind as to spare me a dance then, Earl Phantomhive?" The color seemed to drain from the boy's face as he searched for an excuse of some sort. He sighed, then slowly taking a breath, "I suppose so..." His butler chuckled, watching him take your hand and guide you into the crowd.
"You can address me as Ciel if you like," he said, not meeting your eyes. "Good to know! You can call me [Name]," you said with a smile as you moved your hands to proper position. The slow, romantic melody began playing throughout the ballroom and your feet moved in turn. Only a few steps in, you realized why Ciel had been so hesitant to dance with you. His movement lacked grace and he seemed incredibly nervous, making steps that didn't match the rhythm every now and then.
You held in a laugh and finally met his eyes, "So, Ciel, have you been caught up on your dancing lessons?" His cheeks flushed and he mumbled something that didn't catch your ears, "What was that?" you teased. "No, now will you be quiet?" he said in a tone that suggested he was less serious, and more embarrassed. You giggled and tried to help guide him further. As annoyed as he was, he did appreciate your efforts nonetheless.
Once the song concluded, his hands lingered on your form for a moment before taking a step back and kneeling to press his soft lips to your knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." He couldn't help the slight upwards curling of his lips when you smiled down at him with half lidded eyes. "My pleasure, Ciel." He stood and took your hand once again, guiding you towards where his butler took watching from afar.
"It's not very often I enjoy myself at a ball, I thank you for inviting me. Consider this a formal invitation to the Phantomhive Manor tomorrow to spend some leisure time together." He leaned closer and pressed a delicate kiss onto your cheek. Some heads turned towards you in surprise, taking in the rare scene before them. "I will gladly accept your invitation then," you responded with a giggle. He smiled and turned on his heel with his butler following behind, walking off towards the exit without another word. Maybe, you had found the fairytale you were subconsciously hoping for.
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MASTERLIST
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iguana-eyanna · 11 months
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Now That I See You
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Pairing: Damien Haas x Reader
Summary: Damien knew he wanted to be with you since you two first met, and now he wants to start writing the next chapter for your happy ending
A/n: so I recently saw a TikTok of Damien singing "I See The Light" and I KNEW I had to write something
You and Damien decided to take a trip to Disneyland, treating yourselves to a well-deserved trip.
Now as you two were very busy in your careers, you haven't been hanging out as much as you like to. So why not enjoy a day Disney bounding like one of your favorite characters: Rapunzel and Flynn Rider?
"I can't believe we haven't done this together." You said, taking a bite of a sweet treat you bought at a food stand.
"We really picked a good day to go out too. Perfect weather, not too crowded, and I get to spend it with my princess." Damien said, squeezing your hand gently.
You started to blush a shade of pink and you kissed Damien's cheek, making him match the same rosy cheeks as you.
"Excuse me?" a young voice said.
You both turn around and see a young girl, probably around the age of 6, dressed head to toe like the Tangled princess herself next to her parents.
"Are you Rapunzel?" She asks, her eyes beginning to widen with anticipation.
"I'm sorry, the Rapunzel meet and greet closed when we got here. She's been wanting to meet her so bad." The mom whispered for you two to hear.
You mouthed an 'Oh' quickly before you knelt down, smiling.
"Why, yes I am! And may I say you have a lovely dress, Princess..."
"Malia! Princess Malia." She said, courtesying.
"Why it's very lovely to meet you, Princess Malia. Eugene, isn't she just stunning?" You ask, staring up at Damien.
He brightens as he gets in character.
"Why she is, Blondie. It's very nice to meet you, too." Damien said, bowing down to her.
"Why's your hair purple?" She asks, pointing up at Damien.
"Oh! Um, I ate a plum, not knowing it's cursed. It made my hair purple! We're trying to find a magic item to break the spell." he replied quickly, making the young girl scrunch her nose and then laugh.
"Silly prince," she said, making you almost chuckle.
She turns around and jumps up and down.
"Mommy, can I take a picture with Rapunzel and Eugene?" she asks.
"I'm not sure baby, they have to go break the spell, remember?" she said, not wanting to impose on your time.
"Oh, we don't mind! I'd love to capture this moment too if that's alright." You said, making Malia squeal with joy.
The mom mouthed a quick thank you as you and Damien posed with the young girl. Damien stepped out of the picture so it could just be you two.
"Thank you again for doing this, Malia is going to remember this for the rest of her life." the dad said to Damien.
"Of course! I'm glad we got to make her wish come true." Damien said, seeing how Malia was still talking to you and you looked like your heart was about to burst with cuteness.
"You guys are great with kids, are you two married or...?"
Damien looks back at the dad, a bit startled.
"Oh uh, no. We've been together for 2 years now."
"Well, you two look very much in love. I look at my wife every day and I'm thankful I got to ask her to marry me." The dad concluded, walking over to his little family.
That night when Damien came back to his apartment, he was on his phone, endlessly scrolling for the perfect ring to propose you with.
+
"You look beautiful," Damien said, leaning by the door frame as he came to pick you up.
"Why thank you, you look quite dashing yourself." You said, putting the finishing touches on your makeup.
It's been four months since that day in Disneyland, and today you two were going to shoot a music cover together, singing "I See The Light" from the Tangled soundtrack.
It was Damien's idea, and you guys have been rehearsing for about a month. He asked Courtney to help out with recording and Shayne to set up some decorations by a park.
You and Damien walked over since it was close to your apartment and saw your friends brighten up.
"Aw, it looks so good guys! This has to be the most beautiful set I've recorded at." You said, noticing the decorative lanterns and the purple and pink flowers.
"Yeah, once it hits 6:00 pm we should capture the golden hour..." Courtney said, showing you how her camera can capture the scene, making you preoccupied.
Shayne goes up to Damien who falls silent, walking back and forth on a stone path.
"Hey, it's going to be alright." Shayne reassured his friend.
"I know, it's just - jitters I guess."
"Trust me, she's going to say yes, I think it's better than me practicing with you."
Damien laughs, remembering how he and Shayne would use the weekend when Shayne would take your place and pretend how you'd react once Damien popped the question.
"Thank you, for everything you and Court have been doing. I couldn't ask for better friends."
Shayne proudly smiles as he quickly hugs his friend, trying not to cry.
"You're doing great man. Let's get you ready." Shayne concluded, patting Damien's shoulder as the two walk over to you and Courtney.
She helped direct your positions as you began to perform.
All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight Now I'm here, suddenly I see Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once everything looks different Now that I see you
You turn at Damien, smiling and he felt a flutter in his chest. Then, he too began to sing.
All those days chasing down a daydream All those years living in a blur All that time, never truly seeing Things the way they were Now she's here, shining in the starlight Now she's here, suddenly I know If she's here, it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go
You and Damien held each other's hands as you looked lovingly in each other's eyes.
And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once, everything is different Now that I see you Now that I see you
And that's when Damien knew in this moment, that this was it. Time slowed down when he began to kneel on one knee. You looked confused as Damien was still looking up at you. It wasn't until he tries to reach for something in his pocket
"Dami?" You whisper in a small voice, now chocked up.
"When we went to Disney Land together, you made this little kid's dreams come true. And then suddenly, the world somehow shifted. I wanted to have a new dream with you. So..."
He says your full name as his smile becomes brighter.
"... will you marry me?"
You start nodding right away as you lower yourself where he is, beginning to cry.
"Yes! Yes, I will marry you." You said.
Both of you begin to cry as you hold onto each other. Damien slides the ring on your finger as he looks at you with so much love. You two stand up and you look back at your friends who caught the whole thing.
Shayne was slightly crying as Court was comforting him.
"You don't know how long we've been waiting for this." Court replied, making you all chuckle.
"What do you mean? I've been dying to do this for two years!" Damien added.
You playfully roll your eyes as you allow yourself in Damien's embrace, feeling like this is where you belong, right here in this moment.
271 notes · View notes
residenthughes · 1 year
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once bitten, twice shy
pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader
word count: 3.8k (yippee!)
tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol
summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.
notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!
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You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.
So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.
At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.
You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.
Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.
“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.
With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.
“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.
“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.
“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.
Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.
“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”
He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”
You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”
“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.
How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?
“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”
“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”
You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”
And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.
You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”
“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.
You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–
It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.
You just wanna go home.
“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”
At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.
You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.
When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.
“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”
You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.
“I’ll be back.”
And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.
The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.
“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”
Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”
He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”
You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?
“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”
“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”
You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.
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You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.
You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.
Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.
If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.
“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.
You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.
Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”
You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.
A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.
“Ready if you are.”
He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.
“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”
“Awkward.”
A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.
Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.
“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.
Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”
Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”
Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.
“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”
Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.
“Truce.”
You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.
Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.
“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.
Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”
You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”
You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.
“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”
“Or what?”
Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.
This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.
Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.
Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.
“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.
You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.
If only he’d let you.
There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.
“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”
The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”
You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.
“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.
He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”
“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.
“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.
Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.
“Time’s up!”
His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.
There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.
“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.
You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”
“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”
He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.
“You’re disgusting.”
The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.
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