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starlightazriel · 1 month

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necessities 3

series desc: modern day (fem)reader x classic prythian azriel au, series of short chapters, fluffy, smutty, cute, probably some angst and or drama cus it's me

warnings: 18+, this is silly!! hehe, reader is a little ditsy & air headed, sexual tension asf, az def has a size kink in this lol , hundreds of years age gap lol, mentions of az crush on elain (he b acting like me just b having a crush on anyone), az has so much inner monologue in this lol,

wc: 2k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3

three

"Hypothetically speaking," Azriel clears his throat, finally speaking up after having been sat silently in the corner. He had been battling with himself about how to bring up his question without raising suspicion. He wanted to keep you as his little secret for a just a little longer. He did like his privacy after all, though he thought it may be a bit selfish of him not to explain the full situation. He'd worry about that later.

The more details they had, the closer they could be to an answer on how to get you back to— California? Was it? What a ridiculous name.

Cass raises an eyebrow, he was sat in his usual seat in Rhys study, and the only noises are Rhys pen scratching and the sound of Feyre and Elain singing cheerfully to Nyx in another room. Normally, Elain's presence would have distracted him. He was mostly over it obviously, he had taken many lovers since their almost kiss—

And now, next to his new human pet?

Not pet, sick bastard.

Elain seemed almost plain, as lovely as she was.

Lucien can have her.

"If you fell into Prythian from another world, some kind of—" he paused as Rhys pen had stopped scritching away and his eyes were now trained on Azriel, chin slightly tilted up in piqued interest. "A portal of sorts," he continued, Cassian tilted his head to the side curiously, Azriel knew none of this sounded remotely normal coming from him. "Would there be a way back? " he finally asks, trying to be as casual as he possibly could, keeping his face a mask of cool calm.

"That's pretty specific for being hypothetical," Cassian snickers, Azriels nostrils flare slightly, but he doesn't comment, his expression doesn't falter, he only directs his attention to Rhys.

"That really depends, is there a tether? Is the portal still open after you fall out? Was it even a portal, or something else?" Rhys fires off each question thoughtfully as he leans back in his chair, crossing his fingers over his lap, Az opened and then closed his mouth again, he didn't really have an answer for any of them. "What brought this on Az?" he asks then after the short moment of silence, Azriel quickly shrugs his shoulders, he almost never said something that didn't have some purpose.

"Just been doing some light reading on infinite worlds," he responds nonchalantly, Rhys was watching him skeptically, never had Az been much of a reader. "It's nothing really, curiosity is all," he adds sensing Rhys suspicion.

Rhys shrugs and turns his attention back to whatever documents he had been reviewing. "Are you thinking of trying to travel to another world?" he asks casually, his pen scratching away.

"No," Azriel responds simply, and that was true, he wasn't trying to travel to another world.

Cassian started rambling about his ideal world and Azriel found himself distracted, he wondered if you were doing okay back at his apartment. He knew he would have to find a good excuse to get out of here soon so he could check on you.

He was trying to pay attention to the conversation at hand, as it had drifted back to the original politics. It was nearly impossible when he imagined you back at his place, all alone, probably scared, hungry... Probably freshly bathed now- waiting to be fucked and teased and tortured- not tortured- well, maybe a little bit.

He really wasn't understanding his desire and infatuation for you, humans had never piqued his interest, never. But you weren't like any other human he had seen in the mortal lands, so much softer... Sexier- More delicate. So small that he felt like he might break you if he fucked you the way he wanted to, the thought was more intriguing than it should have been. He swallowed hard, get a grip, he told himself, his ears felt hot, he had to go—

"I have to leave," he stands abruptly, interrupting whatever conversation they were having that he couldn't bare to be a part of anymore. Not that he'd really been listening anyway. He ignored the questions and suspicions from his brothers, and didn't utter another word when he made exit, shadows skittering behind him as if they were up to no good.

They liked the little human too.

How many fucking hours had it been? You had no idea. But life without internet? Miserable. Absolutely fucking miserable. There wasnt even a TV here!

The bath though, was fire. You couldn't deny that, huge enough to fit a man like that made it basically like a pool for you- okay maybe not a pool but it was huge. You ended up in an undershirt of sorts that reached your knees, Azriel had been right about there not being much for you to wear in his wardrobe. You didn't mind though, and you still had your extra panties from your bag, though you'd have to find out if silk pajamas existed.

You hoped that Azriel was trying to find answers about how to get you home, though, it felt so far away now— Felt like you had been gone for weeks already, were the days longer here?

The sun was finally beginning to set and as you lay there on the huge bed in the luxuriously silky sheets you wondered where he was and if he'd be back soon. Your stomach was aching and you hadn't taken your eyes off of the balcony entrance for hours.

It wasn't long before Azriel appeared on the balcony again, he didn't fly this time— he emerged in shadow, and you jumped, flying into a sitting position as you shot up in bed.

"You scared me!" you exclaim, Azriel smiles sheepishly as he sets down a small bag on the table along with a few wrapped plates. "Who the fuck are you, Jeepers Creepers?"

"Jeepers-? Actually, I'm just going to skip past that, I'm sorry for scaring you, how was your afternoon and evening, Bubbles?" he's standing by the table now, watching you curiously.

"Boring as fuck," you sigh, sitting up fully now, you're eyeing the plates, starving as ever now. Your stomach growled.

"Sorry about that. Are you hungry?" he follows your gaze to the wrapped plates on the table. "I didn't know what you liked so I got a few things," he placed the three plates on the bed in front of you and uncovered them all. You opted for the one that looked the healthiest.

"I usually go for a hot girl walk after dinner," you say tasting some of the vegetables first. Your eyes widened in surprise. "This is so good! Like Gordon Ramsey type shit," you hummed in delight and took another bite trying some of the meat and potatoes.

"A hot girl walk?" he asks, quirking a brow. "I'm not sure if that will be possible, humans— Well they don't really exist on this side of the wall, I don't think you'd like the humans much from my world either, though, if you ever wanted to see the mortal lands, I could take you," he says thoughtfully, skipping over the Gordon Ramsey comment, he didn't know what that meant.

"Mortal lands as in— You're immortal? Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is, but yes I am immortal, I'm five hundred years old."

"FIVE HUNDRED?" You demand, your eyes widening as you stared back at him. "I need your skin care routine," you inspected his face then, the loose curls that dropped over his forehead, perfect cheek bones, a few light freckles dusting his perfectly angled nose, probably brought about by the sun, a strong sharp jaw line that was slightly rounded in that pretty boy way, very very kissable slightly full lips, and the most gorgeous hazel bedroom eyes that revealed absolutely nothing. He could definitely make people mags sexiest man alive and beat anyone who's ever gotten it.

"I'm not sure that has anything to do with it," he chuckles quietly. "How old are you?" It's a casual question, but he needs to know. He liked this, he liked watching you eat the food that he'd brought for you, liked seeing the way your pouty full lips wrapped around the fork the soft moans that left your lips as you enjoyed—

"Twenty one," you respond, your eyes flicking back up to his face again, you blushed as your eyes locked, he was already staring at you intensely.

"Very young," he comments after a moment of silence, he was studying your face with an intensity that no one ever had before, not even Cody. You swallowed, blinking a few times, your cheeks warm and stomach churning with nerves. He looked like he could swallow you whole. The way he looked at you ignited something deep in your belly and excitement different than one you'd ever felt before.

"So you eat regular food like me, right?" you ask carefully before taking another bite of the delicious food on your plate. Your tone was soft, under a stare like that it was hard to find your voice. He chuckles, a glimmer of mischief flashing in his eyes.

"No, I actually like to roast little human girls over my spit in the back, Im just fattening you up first, next I'll put an apple in your mouth and baste you with my special sauce," he flashed his blinding white, heart stopping smile at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

"That's not funny."

"Yes Bubbles, I eat regular food like you."

Your breath hitched as you stepped out onto the balcony with Azriel. Your belly was full and you felt quite sleepy and heavy from the delicious food. It was dark now and the stars here— It was like a galaxy right in front of your eyes.

The view of this city at night- it was beautiful.

"The city of starlight, Velaris," Azriel says softly, hes standing a few paces back, his hands shoved into his pockets, wings relaxed behind him, but hes watching you, carefully. Admiring you as you take in the view.

"It's like New York," you whisper, tears welling in your eyes as you remember you may never see it again. The people you may never see again. You used to love shopping with your friends for a weekend in NYC, and fashion week? You'd never see another fashion week again. You'd never get a blow out again or acrylics or a VIP pedicure...

Azriel didn't say anything, he stood quiet beside you, but he watched. He resisted the urge to reach out and swipe your tears. He kept the shadows at bay as they leaned in closer to your melancholy, trying to understand.

"The city that never sleeps," you added softly, feeling rather poetic as you looked out onto this new city. Would this be your new home? Would Azriel find a way to get you back?

"I got you something while I was out," he cleared his throat, he didnt know why, but he couldn't stand your tears, he wanted to fix it for you, cheer you up.

"A present? Already?" your eyes lit up a little bit at that and you turned and watched him retrieve the little bag that he had brought in with him earlier, you wondered why he waited til now to give it to you. One thing you loved was presents, specifically from devastatingly handsome men.

"Just a start, to your new wardrobe, you'll need something to wear tomorrow when I bring you to meet my family," he says quietly as he watches you open the package, as much as he'd like to keep you locked up in here as a personal little sex slave— he knew he couldn't. Though, he could tell by your scent, by the way you squeezed your legs together when your eyes met his, the way you looked at him with wonder and curiosity— the flush of your cheeks, he knew he could fuck you at any moment he liked and you wouldn't stop him.

"Oh my," you squealed softly as you held up the pretty pink fabric in the air.

"It was the smallest size they had, I hope it fits," he swallowed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched you inspect the dress.

"I love it! It's giving coquette realness, should I try it on for you?" your eyes flicked to his, and you were surprised at your boldness, he was a monster after all. Azriels eyes darkened and narrowed slightly, his jaw flexing.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea Bubbles."

reblog and i'll give you a kiss ;)

taglist <3 : @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @smalljasper289 @cherryinsalemverse @cleverzonkwombatsludge @serxndipity-ipity-blog @blessthepizzaman

#acotar #azriel smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar smut #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel spymaster #azriel fluff #azriel fan fiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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aayakashii · 1 month

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❤3 and ❤42 with Yuri please, I need something fluffy with him right now

3❤️ a kiss on the forehead

42❤️ a clumsy kiss

Warning: this is not a drabble at all but I can't shut up so here take this fic 🫳 also not very proofread YET so I apologize if it's a bit wonky

One thing about Mortkranken’s underground: it’s cold. It makes sense, though. There were tons of biological samples being analyzed by students every single day, so it’s not like it could have a warm and comfortable temperature.

Still, you weren’t expecting it to be so cold.

It was kind of ironic, knowing how Yuri hated the other extremely cold dorm of Darkwick. But while Frostheim was freezing because of its natural weather (or as natural as a place created by an anomalous island could be), Mortkranken had all the air conditioners and freezers to create that artificial bubble of icy and dry climate.

Yuri’s personal office wasn’t exempt from the cold. Despite how spacious it was, the air still hung heavy while a split system blasted glacial wind mercilessly.

You trembled slightly as you went through paper after paper, doing inventory of all of Yuri’s books. Despite being a genius, apparently he couldn’t organize all the dozens of bookshelves he kept carelessly stacked with medical tomes, articles and notes.

Sometimes you wondered if he would just carry on, working in a terribly messy office, if you had never come around and offered your help - which he begrudgingly accepted.

However, it’s not like you were doing that entirely out of the good of your heart. You liked spending time with Yuri, despite how snappy he was, yes. You saw how lonely and starved of appreciation he was and it tugged on your heartstrings. Probably no one ever tried to go past that wall of arrogance he had built for himself as a protection, and you were set on trying to give him a little bit of comfort.

Maybe you also thought that the way his hair fell on his face was very pretty, that his sea-green eyes were gorgeous, and that everytime he blushed you wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him into a kiss so you could watch him have a meltdown and turn into putty in your hands. Yes. Maybe. But that’s not why you were there.

You were there because Frostheim was throwing one of their fancy balls that night and you desperately wanted to escape. You were invited, or better yet, subpoenaed by Jin and Tohma and you wanted nothing to do with it. You already had to deal with a tragic curse, thank you very much. Mingling with stuck up rich students was the last thing you wanted to do.

So, mentally apologizing to Kaito and Luca, you lied through your teeth and said you already had a job to do. At that point, you didn’t; but you found yourself in Yuri’s office, annotating his every dusty book just in case they sent someone to grab you by the hair and drag you to the ball. They wouldn’t try to come close to Mortkranken, after all - too much drama between the captains.

And work you did. Being around a cute doctor was just a bonus.

Yuri scrolled through his phone mindlessly for a few minutes, allowing himself to rest his brain after another day of working until his eyes were crossing. He wasn’t much of a social media guy, but he understood quite well the importance of taking breaks every so often in order to have his thoughts reorganize themselves. Even if he went around and then spent three days wide awake just to compensate for a 15 minute break.

It’s not like he was actually relaxing, however. He was very much aware of your presence in his office, just a few steps away from him, as you organized his books. You had offered yourself to catalog his tomes and clean them up out of nowhere and, despite his hesitance, deep down he was grateful for that. After all, an organized workplace works wonders for inspiration and concentration - he was just… very bad at doing the organization thing when it wasn’t directly related to his duties as a doctor.

He also wasn’t quite sure why you had suddenly offered to spend the evening working, but he just decided to chalk it up to you being grateful for his brilliance and infinite generosity. He DID offer to train you in anomalous medicine, didn’t he? Maybe you were just wise and trying to repay his kindness.

He huffed, a smug smile on his face, clearly satisfied with his own answer, but quickly turned his attention back to his phone after noticing you heard him and looked his way.

After scrolling mindlessly through posts about scientific innovations, articles, new hospitals and a bunch of ads for questionable medicines that claim to cure people of everything and anything at all, Yuri stopped at a photo of a familiar place.

It had been posted only 10 minutes before and showed a grand ballroom, filled with young people in fancy garments and expensive flower bouquets placed in tall vases that decorated every corner. Some people appeared to be dancing, while others chatted with a drink in their hand.

It was a familiar place because he had been in this exact same setting before – it was Frostheim and apparently they were throwing a ball at that very moment.

Yuri's lips curled down in disgust at the sight of the dorm.

“These mindless pricks just can't spend a single day without flaunting their wealth, can they?” Yuri grumbled audibly, scowling at his phone.

“Did you say something, Yuri?” you asked, turning to face him while you meticulously noted down another batch of book titles in your handbook.

“These wannabe nobles from Frostheim!” he spat “They can't do a single useful thing for society, but still try to intimidate others by showing off how rich they are! Disgusting!” Yuri slammed his phone on the desk, getting up from his seat, and pranced around the large room, as if he could not contain his anger quietly.

He didn't quite understand the reasoning behind his own anger. All he knew was that he felt enraged, an ironically icy feeling crawling up his chest. And that he needed a Frostheim student in front of him right at that moment so he could punch them. Too bad he was so physically weak.

“Oh, are you talking about the ball they're throwing today?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Yuri stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around towards you, an expression of disgust and betrayal on his face.

How would you even know about this ball? Frostheim prided in excluding everyone else that didn't wear that godawful blue lapel pin from every social event. So how would you, a puny little student with no association to any dorm at all, know about a big event such as that ball?

Yuri chose to blatantly ignore your friendships with Luca and Kaito for the benefit of his own theory.

You swallowed hard, realizing by his behavior that you probably should not have said that at all.

“How do you know about that ball?!” he said, through gritted teeth.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… I heard Luca and Kaito mention it earlier today…”

Yuri slowly walked towards you, as if he was a predator gauging your movements in order to know when to attack.

“Lies. I see how you are blinking fast. You also have flared nostrils and you are unconsciously biting your lips! Body language 101! You cannot fool a doctor like me, I see everything!”

You sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was invited.” you mumbled, grabbing a tome and wiping the dust from its cover, avoiding Yuri's accusatory gaze.

His jaw went slack. His theory was correct then, after all! But of course it was. He was Yuri Isami, the captain of Mortkranken and the best doctor on that campus. Of course he was correct.

And so you were indeed a filthy traitor.

“Oh, so you're so connected to that despicable dorm that you were even INVITED to their ball?!” How dare you, he wanted to say, how dare you give them the time of the day when HE– when Mortkranken was the one doing all the important work in that place.

You raised an eyebrow at Yuri's dramatics, side-eyeing him while you still dusted books.

“Darkwick made me the inspector, remember? I have to have proper relationships with every single dorm and it's not like I want that either. It's all because of my curse.”

Yuri scoffed, throwing his arms up in disbelief.

“As if you need anything else besides Mortkranken's assistance! We are the only ones who are qualified to undo your curse once and for all! And yet, you still mingle with those Frostheimers…” he clenched his fists.

“Yuri, I think you're forgetting the fact that I chose not to go to the ball and spend my night here organizing your books.” you wiggled a book on your hand to make your point clearer, fully turning towards him.

That little detail seemed to have finally been processed in Yuri's mind right after you said it.

He went silent, staring at you with narrowed eyes. As if he didn't trust you yet. As if you could stab him in the back as soon as he turned around.

You sighed, putting the book on the shelf and then resting your hands on your hips.

“Why are you so angry at them for throwing a ball? You know they always do that.”

He didn't know why he was angry, actually. It was like Frostheim was a trigger word for him. He heard it and fury just freely ran through his veins like molten iron. It burned and hurt because he didn't know why it felt like that.

He just did.

It wasn't in Yuri's nature to be quiet. To be speechless. And when he didn't answer your question, you knew something deep, deeper than you could reach, had been brewing for too long.

He stood still like a statue, mouth pressed in a thin line as he turned your question around in his mind, like he would an unsolved rubrik cube. Only this time, he wasn't able to finish it in record time like he used to finish all of his real cubes.

You took a deep breath.

“Look.” you snapped him out of his daze “I'm gonna prove to you that balls are boring and that you aren't missing anything.”

You knew he wasn't upset because of FOMO, but seeing him struggle with his thoughts like that made you pity him just a little bit. So you would pretend, for now.

You went to his desk and grabbed your phone, scrolling through something.

“What are you planning to do?” he observed your movements, still as tense as ever.

“What's your favorite song again? It's The Blue Danube Waltz, by Strauss isn't it?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… I'm surprised a worm like you knows classical music and– no, what does this have to do with anything?” he asked, baffled at the sudden change of topic.

You walked towards him, gaze locked at your phone.

“You like waltzes then. Okay, then this one will have to do.”

You clicked on something on your phone and placed it carefully on one of the bookrack's shelves. Soon enough, some music started playing on the phone's speakers.

Yuri stared dumbly at the hand you were holding out towards him.

“What is this?”

“It's the Masquerade Waltz, by Aram Khachaturian.” You replied flatly, shoving your hand closer to his face.

“I- I know that!” Yuri sputtered, defensively “I want to know what you're doing!”

You shrugged, smirking at your own silly idea that seemed to have badly thrown him off “I want to prove to you how balls are kinda stupid when you can very well just waltz as much as you want at home. Come on. Dance with me?”

Yuri blinked, still staring at your hand.

“W-why should I?!”

“Well… you'll have the satisfaction of doing something Jin wanted to do but can't because I'm here.”

He immediately grabbed your hand, all hesitation left behind. You laughed and restarted the song.

“You better dance properly, worm!”

“I promise nothing.”

Yuri's hands were hot. He had them stuffed in his black gloves like always, but they seemed even warmer against your skin as you held him firmly.

He knew very well all of the waltz etiquette, of course. He was a cultured, refined man who knew how to be a proper partner when dancing with someone in a ballroom. He knew he was supposed to maintain eye contact with his dance partner.

But goddamn it, was it hard to keep looking into your eyes. Even though you weren't always looking at him – as expected of an impolite worm – whenever your eyes met, he felt his insides stir and he wondered in passing if he had to start taking some type of anxiety medication.

Sometimes he'd relax for a second when you looked down at your feet to count 1, 2 ,3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. He used that moment to breathe deeply and then grimace at how shaky his exhale sounded.

His heart drummed inside his ribcage, and he hoped you'd keep your little grubby fingers far away from his radial artery, otherwise you'd feel how fast his heart was beating. He couldn't have you thinking he was nervous. He wasn't nervous! The situation was just… unexpected.

And then you started humming along with the song.

Yuri swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and cleared his throat.

“You… you like this waltz?” he managed to say. He shoved the thought that you sounded cute, humming a song just like he always did, deep, deep inside the corners of his mind.

You widened your eyes for a second.

“Oh! I was humming, wasn't I? Sorry. But yeah, it's my favorite. I guess I can't say I don't understand you when you hum too” you laughed nervously.

The both of you kept on clumsily stepping side to side, front to back, as the song reached its last notes.

Yuri knew the song was ending, and his anxiety peaked. It was like he wanted something to happen – no, like he needed to do something, but he didn't know what it was.

His stomach churned as the song faded out, and your feet came to a halt. Your hand left his own, and so did the one on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of your body leaving him as he forced himself to step back.

You cleared your throat and gave him an exaggerated curtsy, lifting the hem of an imaginary dress.

“Thank you so much for this dance, Lord Isami” you said with a grin, in a fake posh accent.

And after that, it was like he became possessed by some trickster spirit who had it out for him.

Yuri didn't really know what thought process led him to suddenly grab your shoulders and awkwardly place his lips on your forehead, but when you gasped under him, he finally came back to his senses.

“GAH! I don't know why I did that!” he yelled, taking a few long steps back and away from you.

He stared at his own hands, like they were monsters with a life of their own. Some cruel, awful things that made him act on an impulse he didn't even know he had.

His thoughts ran wild and tumbled one over the other, each and every one yelling some reasoning for his stupid actions and turning his mind into a deafening cacophony that made his head fuzzy and his ears ring.

“Um...” you voiced out, and Yuri finally looked at you again, quickly halting his spiral towards a panic attack. His eyes fluttered, taking in the sight in front of him.

You covered your cheeks with your hands, looking to the side as you pressed your lips in a thin line. Yuri swore he could see the ghost of a smile on the corner of your lips, gone in the blink of an eye.

Yuri was screwed. That immediately became the only thought that blared inside his brain after looking at you, all flustered and embarrassed.

“I'm screwed” he murmured unconsciously and you had the gall to chuckle.

“Sorry?” you asked, a smile warming your voice in a way that made Yuri dizzy.

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“You can go to your quarters now. Continue your work here later.” he announced, secretly celebrating how his voice sounded stable again.

You slowly grabbed your phone, still smiling like you knew something he didn't. Preposterous.

“Okay.” you replied, without much protest.

Yuri watched as you picked up the rest of your belongings and made the way towards his door.

“I hope I convinced you of all that stuff we talked about, by the way. See you tomorrow, Yuri” you said, looking over your shoulder before you left.

Yuri had absolutely no idea of what you were even talking about. All he knew was that his room was hot. He felt incredibly hot and his heart still hammered mercilessly inside his ribs. Was he having a heat stroke? Yeah, maybe it was that. Maybe he was having a heat stroke because you made him dance and sweat when he didn't need to.

He looked at the thermometer under his AC.

It read 5°C/40°F.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #yuri isami #tokyo debunker yuri isami #drabble event #ask

155 notes · View notes

doumadono · 5 months

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🌹🌹🌹 COOOOOONGRATULAAATIONNSSSS 🌹🌹🌹

Can I get a cone with vanilla flavour, topped with M&Ms and maple syrup? I want to ask for snow leopard Shoto 🐆

A/N: thank you so much for your ongoing support! I really enjoyed writing these headcanons for you, and I hope you'll like them as much as I do :3

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

Snow leopard!Shoto, who usually maintains a dignified demeanor, turns into a playful goofball when he's alone with you.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who often finds himself fascinated by his own fluffy tail, can be seen chasing it in playful circles. Whenever he catches it, he looks at you with a triumphant glint in his eyes, as if he's just accomplished the greatest feat.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who senses whenever you're feeling down or stressed, and curls up beside you, purring softly, his warm fur offering comfort and solace.

Snow leopard!Shoto has a penchant for being a bit goofy at times. He'll pounce on fallen leaves or playfully bat at floating feathers, his playful antics never failing to bring a smile to your face, and you can't help but laugh at his playful clumsiness.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely adores playing with balls, especially when you roll them across the floor for him. His mismatched eyes light up with excitement as he chases after them, his graceful leaps and bounds a joy to behold.

Snow leopard!Shoto and one of his favourite pastimes which is taking leisurely naps in the sunlit spots of your home. You often find him basking in the warm glow, napping with his head placed on the tip of his fluffy tail. You snap photos of him snoozing and send them to your friend with a captions like, "isn't he just adorable?!"

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is particularly fond of belly rubs, melts into a puddle of contentment when you stroke his soft fur, his purrs rumbling in satisfaction.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who also has a particular fondness for chin scratches. He tilts his head upwards, his eyes closing in bliss as you scratch under his chin, his purring intensifying with each loving touch.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is deeply protective of you, often stands guard by your side, his watchful eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

Snow leopard!Shoto is deeply attuned to your emotions, sensing when you need a comforting presence or a gentle nudge of encouragement.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who loves his nose being booped by you!

Snow leopard!Shoto, who values your companionship above all else, often nudges your hand with his head, silently asking for your attention and some head pats.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is fond of exploring new places, and enjoys going on adventurous walks with you.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely loves rolling in the soft, lush grass. The sensation of the cool blades against his spotted fur brings him pure joy, his contented purrs filling the air as he revels in the simple pleasure.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely despises baths, will do anything to avoid them. At the mere mention of bath time, he'll slink away, his tail bushing in defiance as he seeks refuge in the farthest corner of the room.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who detests having his teeth cleaned, becomes a picture of stubbornness when it comes to dental hygiene. He'll clamp his jaws shut firmly, refusing to cooperate as you attempt to wield the toothbrush with patience. "Come on, Shoto, open your muzzle, I don't have the entire day!"

Snow leopard!Shoto, who prefers to maintain his grooming routine on his own terms, will often retreat to a secluded spot to lick his fur clean with meticulous care, glaring intently at you, making sure you're not trying to give him a bath.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is quite picky about his food. He can and will be the drama king when it comes to his meals. You might present him with the fanciest of gourmet feeds, only for him to theatrically gag at the mere scent. For him, nothing quite compares to the delight of raw salmon or a juicy steak.

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dilatorywriting · 2 years

Text

Heroes vs. Villains : Pomefiore [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Pomefiore vs. Neige Leblanche Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Pomefiore Version

ie. In which no actor alive is apparently able to comprehend the expression ‘too much.’ Or, Neige sends you far too many flowers and Vil reacts about just as well as you would expect.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Everything was going great.

Sure, Rook had nearly assassinated you through the power of embarrassment alone and Vil was still commandeering nearly every spare moment of your free time, but overall it was good. The House Warden had slipped back into his usual not entirely self-destructive haughtiness, and you had tucked his subordinate’s betrayal into the deepest recesses of your mind in hopes you might one day just black it out entirely.

And then one morning you woke up and there were flowers on your doorstep.

At first, you genuinely thought it was a prank. Because they were white lilies, and lilies were toxic to cats. And obviously Grim had yowled at you immediately about how he was “NOT A CAT, HENCHMAN!” But you tossed the bouquet in the garbage anyways, just to be safe. Part of you figured that it might be Jade. He certainly seemed the type to dabble in poisoning house pets, and he went on enough nature walks that procuring some of those nifty little blossoms would be an easy feat. So you casually penned ‘Threaten Azul With Octopot Blackmail Until He Can Learn to Control His Demon Spawn’ into your planner and carried on with your day.

And then there were more flowers the next morning, and something cavernous and foreboding in your gut told you that this wasn’t Jade Leech. This time it was a pleasantly wrapped bouquet of mixed white and red carnations—all tuft-like and fluffy. There was a small square of cardstock tucked into the stems. Maybe there had been one in the lilies too, but you hadn’t even bothered to check before dunking them into the trashcan. The paper was embossed with something that looked a bit like an insignia—a teeny, round, sparrow made up of curling silver swirls and little, scratchy, tufts that you assumed were meant to be feathers. The real damning part of all of it though was the elaborate, cursive, N.L. tucked beneath the bird’s spread wings.

Ruh-roh.

“Huh? What are those?” Grimm yawned as he padded down the stairs on his teeny, black, paws.

You tossed the bouquet into the coat closet and slammed the door. “Nothing. Jade’s just trying to poison you again.”

Grim puffed up like a little lion. “You should poison him back! Or stab ‘em!”

“Right,” you nodded, walking bravely into the winter morning with no coat, because the evidence was with your coat, and you immediately wanted to shrivel up and die. “I’ll just do that then.”

The next morning, there was a knock at your door—bright and early. You cracked it open cautiously and peeked through the slit like a ghoul creeping out of its dark lair. It was a person you didn’t recognize, and you opened the door more fully.

“Can I help you…?”

“Yes!” the guy chirped. You realized then that he was wearing a delivery uniform. “I’m just here to drop these off for you,” he smiled, and pressed a bundle of daisies into your arms. “I guess it was noted in the delivery request that it wasn’t a certainty if the last orders had ended up with you or not.”

“Is that so,” you droned, trying not to sound like your soul was actively attempting to vacate your body. “Well. Thank you. Goodbye—”

“Oh!” he called, before you could retreat back into your hovel like a wounded animal. “There are a few more actually!” he said, pointing to another delivery man headed in your direction—weighed down under an entire armful’s worth of blooms. You couldn’t even make out the poor guy’s head beneath the forest of pale pinks and yellows consuming him.

“Right,” you nodded, horrified. “Of course. Anyways, is there a way I can go about returning these, or…?”

The poor dude being eaten alive by all those flowers just laughed good-naturedly and dumped the wagon’s worth of tulips, and camellias, and even more carnations at your feet. You could feel something in your jaw tick.

And then another pair of delivery men came sauntering over the hill and you wanted to scream.

That day at lunch, you felt like a convict in a lineup.

You were seated at Vil’s left, as was the norm, and you were having to actively fight the raw survival instinct tugging at every muscle in your body as it demanded that you flee from the room post haste. A part of you felt like the intuitive beauty would just know somehow. Like he could smell the goddamn flowers on you. You were practically vibrating out of your seat. Every time he brushed up against you, you’d jolt like you’d been electrocuted. All of the moments where he’d shift and his knee would bump against yours, or when he would reach for something just a little off center and his arm would tuck up against your side, or how he’d rest his hand on the table just close enough to yours that even the teeniest fidget would push your pinkies together. It was like the universe had decided that today you were going to be a lightning rod, and that it was oh so fun to just zap-zap-zap you endlessly.

“Are you feeling alright, Mon Coeur?” Rook called from his spot across the narrow table. “You look a bit grey.”

You grit your teeth, because Vil sitting less than a foot away or otherwise, no way would you be telling anything to this snitch. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“No. He’s right,” Vil asserted, stern, and turned to face you more fully. “You’ve been miserable from the moment you sat down. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,” you tried again, and Vil’s eyes narrowed irritably at your bold-faced lie. He leaned closer, as if chastising you from three inches away instead of six would make any sort of difference. But then something odd flickered across his expression and you experienced the very distinctive and horrifying sensation of being marched to the gallows.

Vil reached out and the featherlight touch of his fingers brushed along the curve of your jaw and down your throat before settling heavily at your collar. He plucked a small, pink, petal from a fold in the fabric.

“What’s this?” he asked, with the inflection of someone who already knew perfectly well what ‘this’ was.

“I fell into a bush,” you replied, deadpan.

Silence.

“A bush, hmm?” he mused blandly, and rolled the petal around between his fingers.

Epel and Rook exchanged pointed glances.

“It was an ugly bush,” you added. Because, sure, it was a lie. And Vil clearly knew it was a lie. But maybe hurling around insults at Neige the bush would help.

Vil snorted, and thankfully it sounded more amused than enraged. The petal disappeared in a puff of dark, purple, smoke and he returned to poking at his salad and your posture in equal measure. Safe. For now.

That evening, you approached the only other person on campus that you could think of who would benefit more from helping you keep your horrible, little, secret than in just selling you out at the first opportunity.

“Epel, you lived on a farm,” you tried, conversational in perhaps the way a hostage may try to sound casual to avoid panicking the SWAT team listening in from just outside the door. “You know how plants work.”

He arched a lavender eyebrow at you.

“Yeah?”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” you chirped, steepling your fingers. “So, anyways. Can I get your help then. With a plant problem I’m having?”

“Uhm, sure?” he agreed, face scrunched up in bewilderment.

When you walked him into Ramshackle’s foyer, Epel made a noise like he was choking. You couldn’t blame him—shock aside, the petals floating around were becoming a real hazard.

“Where did these even come from?” he gawked.

“Neige,” you winced, scuffing your toes against the carpet. Or at least in the general vicinity of where you assumed the carpet was. The entire floor was blanketed in loose leaves and bits of ivy.

He whistled low under his breath, and something in his gaze went a little hazy—a little spooked. “When Vil finds out about this…”

“He won’t,” you declared, with as much determination as you could manage.

“He will,” Epel grumbled. He looked like he was having war flashbacks.

“If he does,” you sighed, defeated, “you might as well just shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

“The shotgun is back at grandma’s,” he mumbled, his pale blue eyes still clouded and very, very, faraway.

You blinked. “What.”

“What?”

“…Nothing. I just. Please,” you begged. “You have to help me.”

Epel seemed to take your pleas seriously at the very least (or maybe it was just his own sense of self-preservation kicking in), and he gently raised a finger to tap at his chin as he pondered. After a moment, he made a little ‘ah-ha’ noise and turned back to you with a firm nod.

“You ever lit a bonfire in a dumpster before?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. A third time.

“I,” you began, slow, “have never. Set a dumpster on fire.”

Epel reached out to thump you squarely on the shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna today.”

“What were you thinking?!” Crewel snarled at you, cracking his pointer across his palm.

You coughed, sending a cloud of garbage-and-petal-scented soot into the air of his otherwise very pristine office.

“I wasn’t?” you tried.

The alchemist looked like he was ready to put his head through the wall or maybe yours, but instead he just reached up to dig his fingers into his temples.

“Detention,” he snapped.

“Understandable,” you nodded—another wave of dusty, black, ash falling to the carpet beneath your feet.

And then all your arson was for naught, because the very next morning there was a fresh mountain of pink roses crowding your entryway.

You kicked them into the back of the coat closet and hurried off to class, making sure to double and triple check your clothes for any damning evidence before you did.

You made it all the way through the rest of the day without any other flower related nonsense, and maybe all that success had made you cocky, stupid. So when you realized you’d forgotten your little notebook full of reference numbers and stage cues for the Drama Club’s newest production, making a pitstop at Ramshackle only seemed sensible. And when Vil offered to walk you there and back, you agreed without any consideration for rationality.

You could just see the pointed rooftop of your dorm coming into view over the hill when your companion final spoke up.

“This path is ridiculously undermaintained,” he hummed. His purple gaze slid pointedly in your direction. “I suppose I can see how you were you so easily felled by a bush.”

“An ugly bush,” you repeated, just to see his lips quirk into a smug little smirk.

But then that satisfied expression froze on his face, and his mouth curled downwards into that venomous sneer of his that made each and every hair at the back of your neck stand on end.

Because standing in your doorway, a delicate bouquet of sunflowers and sweet peas tucked under his arm, was Neige LeBlanche. With that goddamn purple scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Oh! Hello!” he chirped, his doe eyes wrinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I was hoping I’d be able to catch you!” A fetching shade of pink bloomed across his cheeks and along the bridge of his nose, and he fidgeted nervously with the soft wrappings in his hands. “I was starting to think I had the wrong address…”

There was a steadily increasing pressure around the meat of your upper arm, and it took you a beat too long to realize that it was Vil and his ever-tightening vice grip and not just your clothes trying to strangle you. You could feel the blunt crescents of his fingernails digging into the fabric of your coat—sharp little pinpricks that didn’t exactly hurt or anything, but reminded you just a little too much of a big cat flexing its claws before it pounced.

Neige seemed to notice his one-sided nemesis for the first time, and his expression lit with genuine mirth.

“Oh! Vil! Hello to you too!” he beamed, a merry laugh working its way past his lips. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other! Though if you both go to Night Raven I suppose that makes sense…” He mused.

“Of course,” Vil ground out past his gnashing canines, with about as much civility as you were expecting. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

At this inquiry, Neige went pink all over again—from the tip of his gently pointed chin to the edges of his neatly styled fringe. He shifted nervously back and forth on the balls of his feet and his fingers clenched into the velvet bow of the bouquet. When he spoke up again, he was addressing you and you alone.

“I, uhm…” he spluttered. “Well, I… I was worried you weren’t getting any of my flowers, because I never heard anything back from you. Not that I was expecting you to thank me or anything!” he hurriedly rushed out. “I just—Ah. Well… I-I’ve never really done this sort of thing before, and I wanted to make sure I was doing it right, and Dominic said that if you weren’t responding then maybe I should be doing this in person, so… I…” he trailed off, his face practically glowing with the crimson heat radiating off his cheeks.

“You never actually gave me any way to respond,” you tried (which was entirely true), aiming for as middle-of-the-road as possible. Clearly it wasn’t neutral enough, because Vil’s glower swiveled to you and became a tangible force against your skin.

“Oh!” Neige gasped. “Oh my goodness! You’re right!”

Maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe he’d be like you, and wind up so encumbered by his own embarrassment that he’d have no other choice but to run away.

But instead, he soldiered on.

“Well…” the brunette murmured, clearly fighting an intense urge to fidget. “I was wondering then, if I—if you—if we—could. If you want to—”

This poor, lost, boy was so sweet and endearing. And as much as you could not comprehend how saving him One Time in a crowded mall had turned into weeks of pining and near hero worship, you felt for the dude. And you felt even worse knowing that you were going to have to absolutely cut him down if you wanted any hope of coming out of this alive with an even marginally stable Vil at your side. Neige was kind, but Vil was totally not the object of your miserable, unrequited, affections your friend. And if you had to sacrifice Squirrel-Sweater-Boy and his crush to keep the House Warden from falling into another spiral of self-flagellation and despair, then so be it.

“A-Actually!” you cut in as fast as you could. “I was just…”

Your eyes flickered to Vil, panicked, and you hoped he wouldn’t eviscerate you for this.

You placed a hand atop the one he’d wrapped around your arm and gave it a gentle, blatant, squeeze as you leaned heavily into his side. “The two of us were just planning on going somewhere! Together!” You shot him a pointed look that you prayed he’d be able to interpret past the veil of red fury muddling his gaze. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh! Like a friendship outing!” Neige chirped, and clapping his hands together enthusiastically. You wilted. “Do you mind if I come along too then? I’d really love to spend more time with you if I can, but obviously I don’t want to step over any of your preexisting plans! I’d love to be able to hang out with Vil again too! It could be like a field trip!”

Your stomach dropped, and you were genuinely worried for a moment that you were going to have to just honest-to-God turn around and book it before you could be indicted as an accessory to murder.

But then the twisting resentment melted from Vil’s face and the hand at your shoulder snuck around your back to settle firmly at your hip. He hauled you flush against his side and you barely managed to swallow your squeak.

“No, actually,” Vil crooned, a wickedly smug grin splitting his crimson lips. “Together, as in together. Partners,” he continued, perfectly chipper. “Involved. Entangled. Romantically linked. Whatever you’d like to call it.”

Neige’s expression immediately fell into something terribly dejected, before bouncing almost just as fast into mortification.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I had no idea! If I had known, I—I mean, I would never have tried to—to—Oh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable!” he rambled, so red and embarrassed that you were back to feeling bad for him all over again. “Please forgive me for overstepping!”

“I suppose,” Vil sighed, dramatic. And you were officially done feeling bad for him and all his crippling self-worth issues. He turned to you with this demure little pout that you just knew he’d probably had to practice in front of a mirror at some point. “And how about you, darling? Are you feeling magnanimous this afternoon?”

“You’re forgiven,” you grit out, and there was bit of a terrible moment where Neige clearly assumed your spiraling vitriol was aimed at him and not the smug bastard pinning you to his side.

“Th-Thank you!” he squeaked, before darting forward to press the bouquet into Vil’s hands. “Here! Have these! As a—As an apology bouquet instead of a, well…” He buried his face into the plush fabric of his scarf and took a very long, very loud, breath. As if he was trying to center himself. “Anyways! I should be—I’ll get going then! Enjoy your date!”

And then Neige was scurrying off as fast as his legs could carry him, and Vil smirked proudly throughout the entire retreat and beyond. The sunflowers sat in his hands like a trophy.

You took a moment to remind yourself that you were not always a terrible person, and that surely something like this was outweighed in the grand scheme of things by all the Overblots you’d stopped, and how many murders you’d prevented. You sighed, bone deep and weary, and were just about to start making the last leg of the trek into your dorm when Vil pulled you in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” you asked, confused. “We still need to get my notebook for the club meeting, and—”

“I thought you just said something about me taking you out for the evening,” he interrupted, arching a finely shaped brow. “Or did you already forget.”

“But that was…” you trailed off, hesitant. Something warm and eager swirled in your belly, and you tamped it down as fast you could. There was no way he meant what your fluttering pulse was assuming he’d meant. I mean, you were ‘the potato.’ That’s it. “You don’t have to feel like you need to take me somewhere. I know that was just…”

Vil scoffed. “Oh, please. I assumed you knew me better than that. Do I seem like the sort of person who would be willing to fake a relationship to avoid any kind of fallout—within the media or otherwise?”

“…No?” you said after a moment.

His hand flexed at your waist. “Correct. Now. Let’s get going. We’ll stop at my dorm first—you’re not going out dressed like that.”

The world was tilting on its axis. Hell had frozen over. Deuce had aced an exam.

“Are you—did you just ask me out?” you gaped.

Vil sighed. “Technically, you asked me. Or, well, demanded.”

“Oh,” you rasped, dazed. “I guess I did.”

And so began the journey back to Pomefiore. Or, well, Vil’s journey. You were just being carted along like a useless sack of vegetables. Your head was spinning, the rest of you barely able to catch up to its frantic swirling. Amidst all your emotional vertigo, you did catch Vil glaring frostily down at the bouquet in his hands. You wondered idly why he didn’t just throw it to the side, and then remembered that ah yes. A trophy.

“Sunflowers,” Vil scoffed under his breath, and the contempt there helped ground you back in reality.

“What’s wrong with sunflowers?” you asked in a huff, no longer feeling the need to cater to his bruised pride now that he was so obviously riding high on a wave of self-satisfied vindication.

He snorted. “You clearly have no grasp on floriography.”

“And you do?”

“What exactly do you think poisons are made of? Or most natural cosmetics?”

You sighed. “Fine. Then if sunflowers are so awful, what kind of flowers would you give me?”

“Roses, naturally. Scarlet Sage.” His lips quirked. “Coriander.”

“Coriander isn’t a flower. It’s what you cook with,” you sniffed, indignant. “Sage too!”

Vil laughed under his breath and reached out to take your hand, threading your fingers through his. You felt warmth spread from your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears, and you hoped more than anything that your palm wasn’t too sweaty.

“Is that so?” he hummed, amused.

“Well what do they mean then?” you conceded, that furious heat still working its way along your skin.

He glanced down at you out of the corner of his charcoal-lined eyes—the purple there brilliantly sharp and fond. He gave your hand another firm squeeze.

“I suppose you’ll just have to do your best to figure that out.”

🌸FLOWERS🌸

White Lilies = Virginity, Purity, Heavenly Red Carnations = ‘Alas for my poor heart, my heart aches,’ deep romantic love White Carnations = Innocence, pure love, sweet love Daisies = Innocence, Loyal love Ivy = Affection, Friendship, Fidelity Pink Camelias = Longing For You Pink Rose = Happiness; innocent romantic love Yellow Tulip = Sunshine in your smile; hopeless love Sweet Pea = kindheartedness, Blissful pleasures Sunflower = Adoration; Pure Thoughts

Red Rose = Love, ‘I love you’ Scarlet Sage = Forever Mine Coriandor = Lust

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil x Reader #vil shoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Pomefiore x Reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader #My Writing #Heroes vs Villains #Heroes vs Villains Pomefiore Part 3

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missblissy · 7 months

Note

So I saw that your inbox is open for hazbin requests

Could you do a Vox x Hellborn!Reader, like a succubus or something, so they can travel to the other rings but since hes a sinner he can't and say the reader is planning to attend a party in a different ring and just overall some fluffy clingy vox trying to convince reader to stay home and stay with him instead

If not that's okay !! Have a good day <3

((Ofc nonny! I had a lot of fun with this one! I've never seen any Hellborn!readers or even hellborn!OCs X Canon which honestly this was really refreshing!! Anyways, enjoy!!))

It didn’t look right. It didn’t feel nice… nothing felt nice. You pulled the bracelets off your wrist with a sigh and plucked the matching earring out as well. Another deep sigh, a huff, just hot air puffing from your chest in defeat. In the mirror you looked yourself over again, you couldn’t find anything to wear to the party your friends were having in the lust ring. As a hellborn you could move freely between all of hell, but you willingly choose to live in the pride ring.

Turning slightly you looked at your side profile, then your backside… “Ugh,” You groaned. Normally you’d be thrilled at the chance to travel to the Lust Ring. You kind of where… But you weren’t exactly keen on running into the recent drama your friends have been having.

While taking in your reflection you could see a spark in the corner of the mirror. Then a few more as they zigzagged to the floor. If lightning could produce people, Vox would always be at the source. He appeared behind you, a smile on his face and a clever yet sneaky twinkling shimmering in his eyes.

Hands slithered and snaked along your hips, stopping to rest on your waist. A soft buzz and hum of electricity crawled along your skin and into your ears as he spoke, “What’s with the long face, little star?” The pet name never ceased to fluster a blush on your cheeks, “Another fight with the friends?” That amused look on his face said he already knew the answers to his question.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of many spy cams peeking out from the dark. He was always watching, and Vox was waiting until he saw that little smidge of doubt or frustration for him to come and make his move, “You know you can always stay the night here~” He cooed while swaying you just that little bit closer to him.

You had to fight back a giggle or riggle from his grasp. His needy tendencies were honestly rather cute. Vox was confined to the Pride Ring, so he could never follow you lower into hell, and nor could he protect you, or even spy on you. His powers stopped with pride.

Which explained why he’d always glow and bicker and pull at the idea of you staying home, here. Safe. Where he can keep an eye on you. Where you wouldn’t be harmed.

Being a Hellborn, sure, you could hold your own. But you were far more at risk of permanently dying than Vox was. And that scared the living shit out of him. You could easily perish by a bullet from a regular old gun or a stab of a knife. Meanwhile, if such conventional means happened to Vox he’d just suffer through the pain until he healed or repaired the damage to his body.

Vox tugged at your side a little more, a hum in his voice as he continued to lay on the affectionation. One, two, maybe three minutes passed before you let out such a heavy sigh you fell back into Vox’s chest for support, “I really wanted to go to this party, though,” You turned your gaze just enough to meet his, “Verosika Mayday is supposed to be making an appearance, I really love her concerts,” You whined.

At the same time did you really want to spend all the time and money getting down a few rings just for a petty fight between your friends to ruin it all? You could take it or leave it at this point. And Vox with whatever sixth sense he had smelled the doubt and your unsureness.

Normally, that being 9 times out of 10, there was no way Vox was going to talk you out of anything. Perhaps that’s something he really loved about you, that you were just as stubborn and headstrong as him. And you wouldn’t let anyone, including Vox, stop you from doing or getting what you wanted.

But here he could already tell you were second guessing on even going to some stupid party you’d probably go to again next week. To be fair, he was getting a little sick and tired of you leaving every weekend and going places he couldn’t reach.

The charm was ramped up to the max. You were suddenly spun around, a gasp of surprise jumping from your chest. You came face to face with Vox, a low blue glow from off his screen. Then a sweet, nostalgic song started playing, the source simply being Vox himself.

“Who needs to see some singing bitch when you have one right here?” His tune was out of it and his hum was giggling but still, he began dancing you around, you in his arms and his hands holding tight, “I’ll take you to the moon~” The smile on his face only got bigger, and he drew you in close and tried to steal a kiss, “Get you higher than a balloon~”

Twisted little notes, electric melodies, Spanish guitars, and suave singing were this man's go-to. He controlled everything in this tower, and the lights dimmed and changed colors. Vox made his own little world for the two of you, hidden behind all the showmanship and effects, you could easily mistake yourself suddenly on a sandy pink beach.

“I can take you anywhere, my star, and we don’t even need to leave the penthouse,” Your heart started doing those silly flips and flops, battering around in your chest. You ate every bit of attention up. When Vox spoiled you like this, when he wanted something, good gods you could watch him all night.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try your best to put up a fight, teasingly you whined out and dipped yourself backward only for Vox to catch you, one hand in the small of your back while the other caught your leg, “But how else am I going to get my fix of fun?” You dramatically called out, sarcasm laced in your words.

“I’m the definition of fun, sweet cheeks,” He pulled you back to him, chest to chest, locked in a tango. Every step you took backwards he took a stronger one forward, legs getting tangled but never once did either of you trip. This playful dance was nothing new to you, so each step was gracefully placed.

You faked a yawn, fanning your hand, and tried to look bored despite the growing grin and flare of passion and fire in your eyes. You tease Vox a little more, falsely attempting to flee from him.

Only for Vox to snatch you closer with a grip twice as tight as before. A second of pleading flashed across his face only to be replaced by a sharp smirk. Where his hands made contact with you, sparks of snapping bolts shocked you lightly. Vox laughed out as you jumped in his arms, poured, and gave a mini glare, “You know you like it when I bite,” Vox’s face got closer to yours, the cheeky grin of his eating you away from the inside out.

“Hmph!” Another shock traveled from him to you, causing a gasp of air while his voice drew closer to your ear. It was barely above a whisper… a beg…. A plea. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck while the vibrations of his vocals greeted you.

“Please,” His voice was low. The two of you had stopped moving. And he clung onto you in a more desperate attempt… his walls fell and his true nature came out, “Please stay home tonight,” The cling of a desperate man who didn’t want to let you out of his sight, was enough to melt your heart, “I don’t want to be unable to see you,” Vox said, you understood what he meant even though he still added, “Or to protect you,”

With little effort and carefully, you pulled away just enough to get a good look at those sad puppy dog eyes of his. Your smile was half there, and half in a bantering smirk. You gave him that kiss he tried so hard to get earlier, a soft one. But long enough to hold you there stuck on his lips. When the two you broke, your smile was full there though your voice still was laced with teases, “Fine,” You said, “But I want to watch a movie,”

There were a few seconds of buffering while Vox took in your answer. A large grin took up his whole face as he let out a laugh and spun you around on the spot, “Thank you!” You didn’t normally hear those words coming from Vox, so it had a nice ring to hear him say it.

He set you down, planting kisses all over your face but not letting you out of his grasp just yet, “Go down stairs and pick something to watch,” He hummed with joy, “I’ll order us something to eat,” He added, still giving a plethora of kisses between words. You giggled and laughed and bubbled out chirps of joy as he spoiled you with affection. He was utterly perfect, and too lovely for you by every degree. You nodded your head and made sure to run off as fast as you could because now you didn’t want to spend another second away from him.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #asks #inbox #anon #nonny #vox #vox x reader #reader x vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #reader inserts #vox hazbin #hellborn!reader

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 months

Text

Raging Storm

Pairing: Dean Winchester x 18!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: angst, being bullied, harsh insults, being called freak and worthless, someone wanting you to kill yourself, heartbreak

Request by anon: Hey can i request a one shot where the Winchester brothers and Castiel find out that before Michael and Lucifer go to hell they pregnant a woman that died giving birth to the reader (yn) that is the most powerful being in the existence and she is the first hybrid of all species, she is also the embodiment karma and the void, the princess of heaven and hell, the antichrist, Dean Winchester soulmate, the niece of angels and demons, descendant of the pagan gods and four horsemen of apocalypse, and more things and they need to find her because she is so powerful and she can destroy everything but in the end she is super innocent and shy girl???. with fluffy ending.

Summary: You've always been different than everyone else around you but you have no idea why. Things happen around you that you can't control or have no understanding of, but then Dean Winchester comes into your life promising to help make sense of it all.

Square Filled: window for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is the third week this month that the sky has been cloudy and gray. It’s fitting since it matches your mood. All you want to do is get through today and go home where you feel the safest. You hate it here. You’re about to graduate but it needs to come faster. You want to get out of this hellhole and away from these hellish people.

You look up and see your school in the distance with people shuffling into the building. God, I hate everyone here. You’re not even sure how it started but you walked into school one day and everyone hated you. The internet talks about bullying and how much it can ruin a person’s life, but you never knew it could get this bad.

You’re not sure why you’re getting bullied. Sure, you’re very timid and shy but you’re one of the nicest people there is. You’re sweet and friendly to everyone, but that doesn’t seem to matter to some people.

You keep your head down even when you get to school, ignoring the stares you get from some people. The first class of the day is science, which you love, but there are three people in that class that make those fifty minutes feel like hell. You take your seat in the very back by the windows when one of the most popular girls in school comes in. She is followed by her two friends who are basically puppies looking for attention.

“Look girls, the neighborhood freak is here.”

Your heart hurts at her words. You’ve always been bullied by her ever since you could remember. You two attended the same elementary school, the same middle school and junior high, and now the same high school. She’s been tormenting you ever since she knew she gained power by her words.

Maybe she senses you’re a bit different than everyone else. You certainly feel that way. Why do you feel different than everyone here? What makes you not the same as everyone else? That’s the reason why you get bullied because you don’t fit in. You don’t dress weird, have a pimply face, or are into weird things. Stacy took one look at you one day and decided you were going to be her target for as long as you let her be in power.

You haven’t found it in yourself to take that from her.

“What, have nothing to say?” she smirks and looks at her friends. “I hear her Daddy hits her while at home. Her whole family is a bunch of freaks.”

That’s not true. Your father loves you dearly. She’s just looking to stir up some drama, and the only way it’ll get worse is if you antagonize her.

“I heard takes poor defenseless animals and cuts them up,” one of Stacy’s friends says.

“You hear that, Freak? Better not get caught or else I might sic Darren and his friends on you. You wouldn’t want to end up like those animals, now would you?”

You put your head down and drown out her words with the beat of your own heart. The cloudy sky hasn’t gone away, in fact, it has gotten much darker since you’ve arrived at school. Stacy and her friends sit down next to you and gossip loud enough for you to hear every word they say.

Freak. Useless. Ugly. Burden. Waste of space. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. It got so much that you let your emotions get the better of you. Tears would stream down your face if you weren't in front of a bunch of people. Your heart jumps out of your chest just as all the windows in the classroom shatter around you, causing everyone to scream and back away from it. You stay seated, unsure if you did this or if something outside had caused this.

The storm clouds roll in quicker than anyone expects, and a light rain starts falling from the sky. Some of that rain comes inside but you barely feel the water on your skin. You look around at every person who seems scared of you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you are a useless waste of space freak.

School is shut down for the day while authorities figure out what the hell happened. The rain comes down a tad harder than before but if you can get home, you can curl up in bed and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

As you’re walking, someone bumps hard enough into you that you almost go crashing to the ground.

“What did I tell you girls? She’s a super freak. Did you see what she did to those windows? How did you do that?” Stacy asks.

“Please, I just want to go home.”

“Are you a witch? A freak and a witch. God, why don’t you just go kill yourself? The world will be better off without you in it.”

“Please, just let me go home,” you beg.

“I like it when you beg,” she smirks. “Come on, bitch, beg to me like a dog.”

You’re not sure how this happened but you thought of her getting hit by lightning and then she suddenly was. She falls back in a fit of screams while everyone else but you jump out of the way to avoid getting hit. One of her friends ends up calling 911 but you’re already running away from the scene.

The rain pours down harder and lightning strikes near you to reflect how heartbroken you are. It seems like the weather follows exactly how you feel, and right now, you just want the world to swallow you whole. You don’t bother going home in fear you’ll hurt your parents. Instead, you run to the one place you feel safe outside of your own home.

“Alright, I have storms hitting New York and New Jersey, but I don’t think it’s what we’re looking for,” Sam says as he browses his laptop.

“I got a small tornado in Louisana.”

“Anything else?” Sam asks Cas.

“No.”

“Check this out,” Dean says before the group gives up hope. He turns the laptop so that the other two men can see the page he’s on. “There is a small town in Nebraska that is having rolling blackout storms like the city has never seen before, and the windows of the local high school had been shattered without anyone or anything touching it.”

“Do you think that’s her?” Sam asks.

“Gotta be. She’d be in high school by now.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The trio gathers everything they can before setting out to Nebraska. They’ve been tracking you ever since you were born because you’re one of the most, if not the most, powerful beings in the universe. You’re the offspring of Lucifer AND Michael when they decided to both have sex with a human woman at the same time. They manipulated their power to create one big super sperm (as Dean likes to put it) in order to create you.

You’re the Princess of Heaven and Hell, the antichrist, and the embodiment of Karma and the Void. If Dean had to guess, you don’t know just how powerful you are, and you don’t. They have to find you before you do something bad like level an entire town because you got upset over something. Your mother died by giving birth to you and your fathers went to Hell after being imprisoned in the Cage yet again.

Your foster family took you in, adopted you, and loved you with everything they got. There’s a reason why you felt so different than everyone else. You’re not human. You’re not like anyone else. You just don’t know why because you were never told what you are or taught how to be what you are.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel try to traverse the storm when they get into town. It’s gotten a lot worse and has residents fleeing from the city to seek shelter elsewhere. No one knows where this storm came from but they are preparing for the worst. The heart of the storm is where you’re at and gets lighter the further out it goes.

They track you to an abandoned farm you often go to when you want to be alone. You found this place while taking a shortcut home and made it comfortable enough for you to spend hours there. Now, you can’t find a big of comfort anywhere here.

The trio gets out of Baby and sees you outside the barn huddled on the ground. The rain is coming down in buckets but that won’t stop the Winchesters and Castiel from talking to you.

“Maybe I should go. You know, angel to half-angel,” Castiel offers.

“No, let me,” Dean says before he can stop himself. “You two stay here.”

“What? Are you crazy?!” Sam gasps.

“Sammy, I got this.” He leaves their side and approaches you slowly and carefully. You look up and see the three strange men which causes you to scoot away from them in fear. “Y/N, you’re okay!”

“Go away! I don’t know you!”

Lightning strikes the ground where Dean is, and he jumps back before he is struck. Sam wants to join his brother’s side but he knows Dean can handle this one alone. Plus, he’ll jump in if it looks like Dean is in trouble.

“Y/N, my name is Dean Winchester. I want to explain what is happening to you.”

“I don’t even know who I am!” you sob. “Go away before I hurt you!” Dean walks closer to you but you feel a sense of warmth coming from him. You can feel that he is a safe person to talk to which is why you allow him to come closer to you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so lost. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in!”

“Believe me, I get it. I understand how you feel.” He kneels next to you so you can see him without the rush of rain between you two. “I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people. I didn't think I belonged for a long time. Sometimes, I still feel that way.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” You fall into Dean’s arms and just cry, and he smooths down your drenched hair as a means to comfort you. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

“All I want is to be normal. I didn’t ask to be this way.”

“I know. You’re not alone, Y/N. My brother and I can help you. Castiel over there can help you. We can help you control this.” You sob into his neck uncontrollably. “You’re going to be okay.”

For some reason, you believe him, and the storm calms down just a bit both in your head and outside.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn angst

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deerlino · 3 months

Text

when you say nothing at all ( hjs. )

han jisung | gn!reader

“when hearts collide, even the simplest nights become unforgettable.”

synopsis. on a lazy friday night, you and jisung, best friends since forever, start to realize that maybe, just maybe, there’s more to your relationship than you thought. (1.1k words)

content. fluff, friends to lovers, best friends, movie night, flirting, teasing, romantic tension, mutual pining, first kiss

warnings. mild language, tickling, close proximity, kissing

authors notes. this was super fun to write, i really enjoyed it. hope you love it! sending lots of digital kisses! < 3

It’s one of those lazy Friday nights where you and Jisung find yourselves sprawled out on the couch in his tiny dorm room, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. You’ve been best friends since forever, practically inseparable since kindergarten. Through thick and thin, middle school drama, and high school shenanigans, you’ve always had each other’s backs. Now, as college freshmen, nothing’s really changed. Except, you guess, everything has changed.

Jisung throws a popcorn kernel in the air, trying to catch it in his mouth, and predictably misses, the kernel bouncing off his forehead. You laugh, a genuine, belly-shaking laugh that only Jisung can pull out of you. “Nice catch, genius,” you tease, nudging him with your foot.

“Hey, I almost had it,” he grumbles, reaching for another handful of popcorn and munching it absentmindedly. He’s wearing that stupid old hoodie you got him for his birthday two years ago, the one that’s now slightly too small but he refuses to stop wearing. It makes you smile.

“You know,” you start, the words coming out before you can stop them, “you look ridiculous in that hoodie.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah? Well, you look ridiculous in general.”

You stick your tongue out at him, a playful scowl on your face. “Real mature, Sungie.”

He grins, that boyish, heart-melting grin that makes your stomach do stupid flips. “You love it.”

Damn it, I do, you think, but instead you just roll your eyes and settle back into the couch. Your heart’s doing that thing again, the weird fluttering that it’s been doing a lot lately whenever you’re around him. It’s annoying and confusing and you don’t like it one bit.

“So, what’s on the agenda tonight, Your Majesty?” he asks, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

You shrug, pretending to be more interested in the TV than in him. “Dunno. I was thinking maybe we could watch that new horror movie? The one everyone’s been talking about.”

Jisung groans dramatically. “Ugh, you know I hate horror movies. They give me nightmares.”

“You’re such a baby,” you say, laughing. “Fine, we can watch something else. But you owe me.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Owe you what?”

“Uh, I dunno. A favor. I’ll cash it in later,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows.

Jisung snorts. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s just watch something not scary, okay?”

You both end up settling on a rom-com, something light and fluffy that neither of you really have to pay attention to. The night wears on, the movie serving more as background noise as you two fall into your usual banter, teasing and joking and just being you. It’s comfortable, easy, like slipping into a pair of well-worn shoes.

But then, out of nowhere, Jisung starts tickling you. It’s something he’s done a million times before, but this time it feels different. Maybe it’s the way his hands linger just a second too long, or the way his eyes look at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You squirm, trying to get away, but he’s relentless.

“Jisung, stop!” you gasp, laughing so hard your sides hurt. “I swear to god, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna what?” he challenges, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

And just like that, the air between you changes. It’s charged, electric, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You stare at him, your best friend, your platonic soulmate, and all you can think about is how badly you want to kiss him.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you too. But then he pulls back, his face flushed, and you can’t tell if it’s from the tickling or something else.

“Sorry,” he mutters, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. “Got a little carried away there.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the disappointment gnawing at you. “Yeah, no problem. Just… maybe don’t tickle me to death next time.”

He laughs, but it’s not the carefree laugh from before. It’s strained, like he’s trying too hard. “Noted. So, um, what now?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I dunno. Want to just… talk for a bit?”

Jisung nods, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, you think you see something there, something that mirrors what you’re feeling. But then he looks away, and the moment’s gone.

You talk about everything and nothing, about classes and friends and random stupid things that make you both laugh. But underneath it all, there’s this undercurrent of tension, this thing between you that neither of you is brave enough to acknowledge.

Hours pass, the movie long forgotten, and you find yourself lying on the couch, your head resting on Jisung’s shoulder. It’s comfortable, familiar, but at the same time, it feels like you’re on the edge of something terrifying and wonderful.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you ever think about… us?” he asks, his words hesitant, unsure.

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm. “I mean, like… more than friends. Do you ever think about it?”

Your mind races, a thousand thoughts and feelings crashing into each other. “Yeah,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I think about it all the time.”

Jisung is silent for a moment, and you can feel your pulse pounding in your ears. “Me too,” he finally says, his voice barely audible.

You turn to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “Really?”

He nods, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah. And it’s scary as hell, because I don’t want to lose what we have. But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about what we could have.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “Jisung, I—”

But before you can finish, his lips are on yours, soft and hesitant and everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like the world fades away, and all that exists is the two of you, finally crossing that line you’d been too afraid to acknowledge.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his own smile matching yours. “Wow.”

And in that moment, you know that no matter what happens, everything’s going to be okay. Because you have each other, and that’s all that really matters.

© deerlino (est. 280624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

#han jisung x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #han jisung fluff #han fluff #jisung fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han jisung x you #stray kids x you #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #han jisung fanfic #*writing

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

Note

Hey! Hope you're having a fab day <3 I came across your lil Daemon/Matt 'crackfic' and it gave me such a giggle...plus also got me thinking about a similar scene with Aemond/Ewan..! Obviously no pressure to write this, but what about a sorta Aemond x reader scene where they're maybe filming a sparring scene? Fight training/flirting vibes? Doesn't have to be anything spicy, maybe just fluffy flirty good times but also realistically aemond x reader sparring = *sexual tension* so lol, take from it what you will. As I say, no pressure at all to write this. I love your blog so much and am such a fan of your work! Wishing you a wonderful weekend xoxo

Choke 'Em

Ewan Mitchell x Actress!Reader (low key Aemond x Reader)

Summary: You and Tom were very much convinced that Ewan is good at everything, so you had a bet that even if you took Ewan surprise in one of your sparring takes, he could 100% overpower you. Things don't necessarily go as planned.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, drama instigator!tom glynn-carney, puppy!ewan, idk how to choreograph action 😞, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: YES IN A MILLLION LANGUAGEs, i watched like this one of 3 actors from the last kingdom saying they think ewan is good at everything or something along the lines, and then theres this gif set of tom glynn-carney saying that he was going to bite ewan and ewan was basically "aw yeah!" and ASFHLASHFHASFHFHA PUPPY im love him, anyway, i had those stuff in mind when i wrote this i hope you like it my love floofdeloop. i did an express pass on your req cos i have been writing rpfs lol also this gif T_T HES SO ??????????? HOT ????? HELP ME WHY DO I THINK THIS OF HIM ???? HWELP? Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

"No!" I exclaim, shoving Tom from the floor we were sat on. He nearly chokes on his salad as he falls to his side and laughs. His hand darts out to keep him upright, his laughter dies down when he turns to me.

I continue, "I can't attack him outside of the choreography we practiced!"

"I'm not telling you to do that!" Tom says, raising his voice in amusement, "I'm saying maybe just-" he breathes out through his nose, "go a bit harder than normal? Or-or add a few licks to-"

"Tom," I deadpan.

"Oh, please," he blows a raspberry, "against him? You're dead meat."

"He's not immune to accidents, lame brain," I take the final bites of my sandwich.

"All I'm saying is, Ewan is probably, like, secretly a swordsman."

"Dude," I point, "there's nothing secret about that."

I look out to the set, watching as Ewan, who quickly finished his lunch to rebuff on our choreography, twist the prop sword in his hands with much ease and mastery.

I chew slowly, "maybe I could tell him I'm doing extra attacks beforehand."

Tom, who stuffed some salad into his face as he too watched Ewan from afar, turns to me, perking up in intrigue. He speaks with a mouthful quite excitedly, "yes, yes, yeth, weth!"

I give him a look then purse my lips as I shove a tissue to his mouth

When we got to filming the dialogue part of our scene, we already set a pretty high bar for our consequential fight sequence, and so when I offered the idea of adding an extra few jabs in my sword fighting, not just to Ewan, but to our fight choreographer and director, they were all on board with it.

"I was thinking I could," I start, raising my imaginary weapon up, pointing at Ewan, "try to jab at you by your throat, then," I slowly step forward, twirling the way we did in practice, "once you evade me, I could elbow you," I bring my arm by his chest and slowly push him back, "and shove you against the wall."

Ewan, following my train of thought and movements, steps back and leans back on the wall. He nods, looking down at me with a soft smile, "I like it," he turns to the choreographer, "I think it adds to their tension."

I turn to our choreographer and director, nodding, "then we could add the dialogue we scraped off cause there was no room for it."

The director claps his hands, "I love it," he motions to us, "then you can grab her, and try to make her confess."

I turn to Ewan, leaning back into him a bit so that he could bring his arms around me. I turn front then look down at his arms that were coming around me. I pull him tightly around me like a jacket.

Ewan has no choice but to lean into me; my back was against his chest and I could hear his breathing. He was a welcome presence in all honesty. Quickly, I relax against him and he seemingly does the same against me.

"Well obviously not like that," the director calls, "you look like a married couple if you do that."

We break into a laugh. I lean against him, "it's not too late to change the script. She and Aemond could away together."

Ewan hums, as though he was in character, "I think he would like that."

I snort, turning to Ewan and his eyepatch, "I would like that."

Ewan's eye darts down to me quickly. He purses his lips, holding back a chuckle. I pull away from him when I see the pink in his skin, laughing a bit louder.

"Shall we give it a go?" the director asks.

One nod later, and were back in our marks, ready to tryout our added choreo.

"You lied to me," I heave, "you told me you would release my father if I gave you the information you needed.

Aemond walks over to me, hands behind his back, "I said I would think about releasing your father."

My expression drops, my nostrils flare, "liar."

He hums.

"Craven!"

He chuckles.

"MONSTER!" I lunge towards him and the next second, Aemond has his sword unsheathed. We go against each other, weapon against weapon, then he overpowers me, sending me reeling back. I push against the crates behind me, as the prince calls out, "let me offer you another deal you surely cannot refuse."

I fume, groaning, "I think we're past deals, oh prince."

"Oh, but I-"

Aemond's eye widens as I press forward a few lines too early. Like clockwork, I attack him just like we practiced earlier, except, he was clearly taken off guard and reacts a bit too late.

Once I have him pressed against he wall, he looks down at me, shocked, heaving.

He's forgotten his line.

I make up for his silence, "perhaps you are prettier up close."

"CUT!"

I pull away from Ewan, turning to him, dropping my prop. I reach out to his cheeks, giving him a worried look, "are you okay? I didn't injure you, did I?"

"I-" his hands come up to my wrists, "no, no," he chuckles under his breath, "I was just a bit floored by how fearsome my lady is."

My face contorts into a smile, "my lady, am I?"

"I-" he opens his mouth, "well, I mean... yes."

We both break into a chuckle. It seems we both had blood rising up our necks now.

"That was amazing!" the director calls, walking up to us, making us pull away, "I like these turn of events more than what we had planned."

"What if they have more contact?" Ewan pipes up, coming in front of me, "in this part, instead of being turned back," he looks at me intently, "you can lift your sword to my neck then choke me."

I gasp when he takes my hand and places it by the base of his throat. It was quite softly spoken, but it seems it was not soft enough, "damn, that's kinky."

Ewan's jaw slacks.

I break into a chuckle, playing it off, just as the director laughs, proceeding to say, "I like it! The more sexual tension the better." He turns to me, "choke him real good."

Ewan begins to stutter. My own jaw slacks as I feel my face heat up. I awkwardly nod and salute, "will do."

#aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemon targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fluff #ewan mitchell x you #rpf fanfic

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honey-minded-hivemind · 1 month

Note

lmfao Dark Howlett/Creed!Reader having rankings for who they like the most

Imagine a tier list video except it's Reader ranking the X-Men and villains

Logan and Victor are probably F tier lol

Cube anon

Hahaha! Oh dear... Okay, I might as well do it, and make it canon (with hidden fun facts and lore for the au!)... This is in Creed/Howlett Reader's pov:

(Journal: List of Who Is The Least Awful)

(In the Green)

Gambit: is nice to me, only tries to steal my food and my spare change, wants information but at least attempts to listen to me talk first (he smells like cats and spice, maybe a hint of cinnamon) 7/10

Kurt: tries to be polite, but I know he's scared, and he went along with what the others did (I saw him wearing a cross necklace... Catholic, maybe? seems sweet, is blue and fluffy... smells like blueberry muffins) 6.5/10

Todd: still jokes at my expense, but is only as scared as everyone else... still doesn't like me, went along with their plan to use me (is he a feral mutant? or just a poor frog, erm, toad kid?) 6/10

Beast: was nice to my face, did not say i should stay, knew I was being tested, did nothing (why is it always the same?) 5.5/10

(In the Yellow)

Xavier: ... I don't like him, he set me up... but he is polite to my face, albeit he also decided I wouldn't be staying with them (who let him have kids?) 4/10

Rogue: isn't bad, but is distrustful of me (wasn't she in this position before?) 4/10

Magneto: terrifies me... but hasn't personally messed with me (he's Pietro and Wanda's dad, he's scary as f*ck!) 4/10

Evan: annoying and likes to mess around/make jokes about me, is not the worst (I'm not fighting him, he has SPIKES, I'm not that much of a sucker for pain-) 4/10

Lance: still annoyed me, was not nice, was rude and threw a rock at me in retaliation once (has issues, but don't we all?) 3.5/10

(In the Red)

Kitty: is a bit snobby and prudish, but hasn't tried to fight me or get in my way, smells like bubblegum (she's smart, once was in a club with her, was ignored, it's normal) 3.5/10

Jean: did not trust me at all, is suspicious of me, has tried to read my mind, she scares me (a telepath or telekinetic? how do any of these kids live under the same roof? smart, pretty, avoid) 3/10

Scott: definitely does not trust me, has tried to start a fight with me, his lasers burn, is very, very stubborn (I am not fighting him again, one time was enough, did he have to insult me, too? are he and Jean dating? ... they seem like a good fit...) 2.5/10

Wanda: ... no... nope... does not like anyone, is related to Pietro, is the nicer of the twins (wears red and black a lot... is dangerous... steer clear of her) 2.5/10

(In the Black)

Pietro: is annoying as f*ck, is rude, insults me and everyone else, will rub your insecurities in your face, is demanding, is dramatic, is addicted to drama (why did I ever try to talk to him? avoid at all costs. Is NOT worth it) 1/10

Logan: ... avoid avOid AVOID! dangerous, terrifying, deems me too dangerous, has almost hurt me, don't go near him, stay away from him and his brats (I thought he'd understand... what it's like, to be this way... he doesn't care...) 0/10

Sabretooth: Run Run RUN!!! Avoid at all costs! Do not talk to, do not get near, stay still, don't speak, pray, will bite and scratch and aim to hurt, deems me too soft (said it more hurtfully than that... is NOT nice...) -1/10

(Hmmm... I don't think I have friends... I have maybe Gambit, but he's, well... I know why he comes around. I know it's just a job, just a scheme. But I'm lonely, okay? I need someone to talk to, and out of everyone, he's the least problematic... Is it so bad to want someone as a friend? What am I doing wrong? I try to act normal, talk normal, eat normally... These people should understand, but they don't... Is there a point to this?)

(... I heard something outside... I need to check it out... I'll write in you again, Journal...)

( Last written entry of Reader ********, dated 12/03/200? , in their journal )

(How is this for a peek inside Creed/Howlett Reader's mind in their version of the Dark AU? And a reminder: they didn't know who their dad was at first but find out during **********...) (So yes, Gambit ai the closest they have to an ally/comrade, but they aren't quite friends...) (When Reader wakes up and finds the other three with them, those three are traumatized, trying to apologize, and telling Reader they'll be welcomed this time, that the others can't leave then after this, look at the state they're in-) (Well, um... look at this list, and tell me how well you think that goes over initially) ( @sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danni1323 @crowwithguns @thewickedweiner)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #creed!reader #howlett!reader #🪶creed!reader #🖤dark au

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buttered-my-biscuits · 10 months

Text

Fever Kisses

(A/N); First, I’d like to apologize to everyone for falling off the face of the earth this last YEAR. I’ve been diagnosed as Immunocompromised, so it’s been a fun ride catching every single cold known to man :’) Currently getting over a 3-week long cold, and I’m Miserable, so I need a healthy dose of our favorite dwarven brothers. — This is also my 1st Fic/Drabble ever, so here goes nothing!

Summary: A wet rainy night proves no challenge for dwarves or hobbits. The same, however, cannot be said for humans.

Pairings; Kili x Reader, Fili x Reader

Warnings; Fevers/Sickness, Very soft and fluffy fluff, with a bit of angst and drama.

Translations:

Ibrizinlêkh: Sunshine

Bunnel: Treasure of All Treasures

—————————————————

The rain poured harder than ever before, showing no mercy to the trees, the bees, and certainly no dwarves.

The dark and stormy clouds blanketed the skies, casting shadows amongst the rolling hills. Soaked to the bone, through cloaks and tunics, still the company of Thorin Oakenshield trudged on.

Dwarrow are hardy folk; cold and damp environments bothering them none. Humans on the other hand, however, do not share the same trait.

(Y/N) found herself at the back of the line, trudging her way through ankle-deep mud, her arms wrapped around herself in hopes of holding onto whatever warmth was left. Kili stayed close, whereas Fili opted to lead the pack side-by-side with Thorin.

Quiet conversation could be heard from certain members of the company, including the one beside you. Kili regaled you with his adventures with the Blue Mountains and how Fili had scored a 5-point Buck with a single throw of a dagger, enhancing his story with wild gesturing hand movements.

“— And man, you should have seen Amad’s face when we got back with the buck! I daresay she had never looked more proud!” Kili boasted properly. “…(Y/N)?”

You looked up, meeting his soft honey eyes, not realizing you had stopped in movement. “(Y/N), are you alright? Are you tired?” Kili took a step towards you, concern etching its way onto his face. You stared at him, a strange, skin-crawling feeling rolling up your spine, a harsh shiver wracking your frame.

Kili closed the short distance between you, his hand gently landing on your arm before repeating his question. Only, this time, as the sound hit your ears, it sounded as though he were not speaking Common Speech at all. Your face scrunched in confusion, before it hit you. You felt a gasp rip through you as you quickly grabbed hold of Kili’s tunic, your legs feeling as though they were to give out. Your vision swirled as though you were one with a tornado, nausea quickly settling in.

Beyond the ringing of your ears, you could hear Kili yelling something, before the shadows of the others came into your peripherals. You tried to breathe, feeling the weight of a thousand bricks upon your chest — you felt as though you were suffocating; your vision began to darken with infectious black spots. Increasing your hold on Kili’s tunic as one last whimper escaped, you felt yourself fall.

—————————————————

“…(Y/N?)” Kili called back to you, having paused in his story at your stillness. He closed the distance between you two, lying his hand on your arm. He called to you once more, only to be met with confusion. He found himself mirroring your expression, if but only for a moment, before that expression quickly turned to terror as your body seized.

One arm shot out to hold up your weakening frame, the other gripping your arm tightly. “Uncle!” Kili shouted, his panicked tone ringing through the air. One look back from both Fili and Thorin had them sprinting to the back of the line.

“What happened to her?” Fili inquired while quickly reaching out with the goal of steadying you. His fear quickly grew as your weak frame shuddered one last time, before alast going limp. Barely catching you in time, he quickly hauled you upwards into his arms, your head lolling heavily against his chest.

Thorin laid his hand upon your too-warm forehead, quietly cursing in Khuzdul. “We need to find shelter. Now!” Thorin barked at the others, watching as they quickly scrambled towards the rocky cliff side.

—————————————————

Safely inside the dry remains of the cavern, a fire was hastily made while Fili and Kili worked to lay out a bedroll for you. Oin frantically dug through his pack, looking for his medicines and ailments as Thorin dug through his own looking for anything dry.

“We need to get her into dry clothes. This will do for now.” Thorin held out an oversized, but dry Tunic.

Fili and Kili shared a look, waiting for their Uncles’ instructions. Surely he didn’t expect them to undress her? Sensing his nephews hesitance, Thorin grumbled under his breath. “All of you. Turn away, now!” Thorin barked once more, before shedding your jacket. Together with his nephews, they worked to undress you, much to said nephews embarrassment.

Moments later, you lay peacefully upon a bedroll, clothed by nothing more than Thorin’s tunic, and a blanket modestly wrapped around your lower half.

Oin knelt beside you, lifting your head gently as he pressed a small glass vial to your lips. “Come on lass, swallow it down.” Oin quietly prayed, pouring the liquid onto your tongue, before sighing with relief at the sight of your body naturally swallowing the rather horrible tasting liquid.

“And now we wait.”

—————————————————

You were floating through the air — clouds more specifically. You were sure of it. You breathed in deeply through your nose, smelling the distinct smell of… a campfire? Surely not in the clouds…

You forced your heavily eyelids to open, finding yourself looking up at a pair of dwarves, whom were sitting side-by-side, heads leaning against one another as they both slept peacefully.

You attempted to recall how you got in said dwarves’ lap, but your brain felt far too mushy and not up to the task. You brought your hand up to Fili’s arm, with the intention of pulling yourself up. However upon doing so, you found yourself with not even enough strength to close your fist around said arm. Grumbling slightly, you tried again.

“Would you like some help?” A tired voice whispered beside you, causing you to jump. You looked up to see ice blue eyes peering back at you, a soft smile creeping their way into them.

At your silence, Fili brought his hand to your forehead once more, clicking his tongue at his findings. “You still have a fever. You need to rest more.” Fili pawed at your blanket, bringing it farther up your body, before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Here, Fee. Get her to drink some water.” Kili, awakened at the commotion, handed Fili an opened canteen. Slowly, Fili helped you sit up with a hand at your back, the other bringing the canteen to your lips. You sighed at the feeling of the cold liquid sliding down your throat; Refreshing. A few sips and Fili lowered it, much to your dismay. “Not too much at once, Ibrizinlêkh.” He chuckled, handing it back to Kili.

Swiping your tongue over your now moist lips, you sighed contentedly and closed your eyes, before shimmying back down to rest your head upon Fili’s chest once more.

Eventually, quiet conversation broke out between the two brothers, offering you distraction while you rested your heavily eyelids. Before long though, you found yourself peering back up at them, breaking said conversation as they both returned your gaze, a sight of content and fondness donning their faces.

Without thinking, you found yourself gripping Fili’s outer coat, raising yourself up to his chin. Using your other hand, you placed it on the back of his neck, gently guiding his nose to rest alongside your own. Instinctively Fili closed his eyes upon the close proximity; you gently lifted your head slightly, to rub your nose along his. Up, down. Up, down. And a third time, before resting your forehead against his. “Thank you…” You whispered quietly, before pulling back to reveal a stunned look upon his face. Had your brain not been mush, you surely would have laughed.

Looking to his right, you found Kili staring, dumbfounded at your stunt. Chuckling, you reached for his cheek. Despite his confusion, Kili leaned forward until his nose lay along side yours. Up, down. Up, down. A third time. Slowly, intimately.

Pulling back, you found yourself wearing a content smile, theirs quickly mirroring your own. “Goodnight” you offered softly, before settling back down into Fili’s arms.

“Goodnight… Ibrizinlêkh.”

“Goodnight, Bunnel.”

—————————————————

As the sun climbed over the horizon, you stretched comfortably, before opening your eyes. Once again, you found yourself peering upwards at a pair of blue eyes, alongside a pair of honey-brown.

“Good morning you two!” You yawned.

“Good morning (Y/N)” Kili returned,

“Good morning.” Fili whispered softly.

The company worked to pack up camp after each companion ensuring your health, before Thorin set them off once more.

Beginning your steps, you were stopped by a couple of hands — one upon your wrist, and the other on your arm. “(Y/N), can we ask you something?” Turning to meet both Fili and Kili’s eyes, yours in question. “Last night… you had… uhm.” Kili started, looking to his brother for assistance.

Fili touched his own nose, before continuing: “you had rubbed your nose with ours… what does that mean?”

You quickly found yourself stifling a laugh behind your hand, furthering their confused expressions. “Did I offer you both one? I’m sorry! My fever must have did away with my manners… it’s called an Eskimo Kiss. Thank you for taking care of me yesterday, both of you.” You grabbed each of their hands, offering a quick squeeze before turning back and following the others.

Fili and Kili found themselves standing there, baffled, before your words soaked in. The next sight, was picture worthy… Their faces quickly resembled that of a strawberry.

“An Eskimo Kiss?!” They squealed, quickly chasing after you.

—————————————————

I wrote this on the fly, on my phone at 3AM, as I personally have my own fever, so if this is horrendous to read, I blame my fever.

I do not have a Beta, nor did I honestly proof this before posting… but regardless, I hope y’all enjoy! This wasn’t supposed to be this long, but, that’s how fics/drabbles are supposed to go, right?

Goodnight and to the doctors I go!

#hobbit #hobbit fanfic #kili #kili x reader #fili x reader #the hobbit #fili

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laurfilijames · 7 months

Text

Like My Dreams

Part 5

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 9.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Unprotected intercourse. Sex in a public place. Blood, cuts and bruises. Dressing of wounds. Cockwarming. Mention of stab wound and life-threatening injuries. Assault. Threat of rape.

Summary: Right when you and Pete seal the deal on your relationship, more car trouble and a visit from an ex stirs up drama and pops the blissful bubble you waited so long for.

A/N: 😅 this chapter really got away from me but I had the best time writing it!! I had an idea for part of it and pitched it to the wonderfully supportive @ramadiiiisme who encouraged me to go for it and helped me pull it off, so big thanks to you a million times more 💗 The scene with Mrs. Platt was inspired by a conversation with @stealfromthedevil about her dear grandmother who's cheeky words are included in the dialogue 💗💗

The linked song is one I've been listening to non-stop while writing this chapter and is just so lovely and fits in with all the fluffy bits of not only this chapter, but this series as a whole.

---

It had been a couple of hours since Pete had gone home to shower and clean up after the friendly game with the lads, now sitting in his favourite seat at their table watching the Hammers struggle to get a lead against Chelsea, the match currently tied at 1-1. He would normally care a bit more about it, but knowing you were on your way to meet him there had taken all his focus and energy, feeling more excited to see you than bothered that his team might end the game in a draw, or worse.

He slouched against the old chair with his arm over the back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it back down and licking his lips.

“Oh, come on! Fucking unbelievable!” he muttered at the screen, the referee pulling an outrageous call against West Ham.

Whatever happened next in the game no longer mattered to him all that much, seeing you walk in the door and through the crowd of people standing between you, his smile growing as he watched you tug your scarf out from around your neck and head over to the bar where you stopped to say hello to Terry and order a drink.

Pete stood and walked over slowly, admiring you from across the room as you chatted with Terry for a moment, your smile making his heart nearly stop when you turned and directed it at him as he reached you.

He said nothing, his grin too large to control any words to come through it, instead opting for a greeting he had been waiting all night to give.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you, inhaling with a low moan as he felt you melt into him and release your breath, your hands landing limply on his biceps.

A few people cheered around you, making both of you smile again after you parted from each other, but the need to get you alone was quickly becoming a priority in the realization of how many people were preventing him from doing all the things he wanted to do right then and there.

“Hi, love,” he said warmly, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes making desire stir inside you.

“Hi,” you sighed with a love-drunk smile, the single word a breathy whisper.

Pete bit his lip as he reached for both of your drinks off the bar, nodding in the direction of their table in the corner.

“Come on, gorgeous, we’re over here.”

You were greeted warmly as usual, the spirits of everyone high after the Hammers scored a goal, and with all members of the GSE and their respective partners present to watch the match, little room was available at the booth.

Ned and Ike shifted over to make a spot for you beside Clair and Dave, leaving a space that was too large for your liking between you and where Pete sat in his designated chair, his hands folded together with his elbows resting on the arms of it as he looked fondly at you mixed in with his favourite people.

As much as you loved being at The Abbey enjoying conversations that made your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much, the company that Pete kept people you now couldn’t imagine your life without, it was difficult for you to focus tonight, your mind constantly wandering to how the night was going to turn out just as much as your eyes continued to find Pete’s automatically.

It was like he knew everything you were thinking, his blue eyes glowing with a telling want and his looks loaded with insinuation, every swipe of his tongue over his lips or the way he rolled the toothpick that hung out of his mouth teasing you and driving you mad.

You squirmed in your seat, your fingers toying with the soggy coaster that had been spilled on too many times, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him whenever you felt the heat inside you becoming too much, only to steal another glance a moment later, finding him still looking at you hungrily.

The game was coming to an end, and with the Hammers still holding onto their lead, Pete was more than happy to miss the rest of it in exchange for seeing something he had wanted to all day, and as you slowly trailed your hand down your neck to your chest before reaching for the drink you had nursed most of the night, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Waiting for you to glance over at him again, he watched you intently, imagining your bare form beneath him, pressing his lips against every single inch of you.

Finally, you met his gaze, a sultry look weighing in your eyes, and with a subtle nod toward the door, Pete silently told you it was time to go.

You smiled almost sheepishly, your face seeming to glow in a mix of embarrassment and excitement as you rushed through your goodbyes, your friends all shouting teasing jeers at you in knowing the reason behind your early exit.

Pete winked at you as he shrugged into his tan trench coat, adjusting the collar and tugging it up at the back so it covered his neck, flicking the toothpick he still had in his mouth onto the table.

He took your hand and lead you through the pub with a pride that didn’t go unnoticed by those you passed, finding yourself bashful in thinking that everyone knew what was about to happen based on the look on your face, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning and cast your eyes down at the worn carpet as you made your way out.

The door hadn’t even shut behind you before Pete had you up against the brick wall, his hands holding your waist with a claiming grip as he leaned into you and kissed you breathless, his want for you inarguable.

“Let’s go home,” he said with surety, his smile lighting up his eyes when he stepped away from you, pulling you with him with his hand clasped around yours again confidently.

The walk to Pete’s wasn’t long, but was made longer tonight by how often the two of you stopped to kiss, unable to keep off of each other for the duration it took to land at his door.

There was thankfully no sign of Mrs. Platt hanging around to make comments, the time it took for Pete to fish out his keys and unlock the deadbolt incredibly delayed due to interrupting the process in favour of kissing, your bodies now pressing together more closely and your hands becoming bolder where they roamed.

Pete finally opened the door and walked through it, and after tossing his keys onto the table, turned to grin at you and take your hand, pulling you inside with him.

“Get in here,” he said through his smirk, the playful tone of his voice undisguisable despite how much lust showed in his eyes.

He brought you in against him, his lips teasing yours as he whispered, “I need you.”

You smoothed your hands up the back of his neck as you kissed him, melting when he moaned into your mouth as the sensation of your fingers raking through his hair made him desperate for more, the intensity of the kiss increasing quickly.

Within moments you stood naked in his room, holding each other close while playful kisses were shared and hands began their worship, the excitement and anticipation that had slowly built up to this moment stirring within you.

It was clear that Pete felt the same, his smile unable to be wiped from his face each time you parted to look at each other, and as he moved closer to the bed with you, he tucked his bottom lip in his teeth to try to restrict it.

You sat on the mattress, leaning back on your elbows where he followed closely, crawling over you as you fully laid down in his bedding that lingered with the scents of him and you. His smile turned into a sweet chuckle as you giggled too, having him settle between your legs and laying on top of you making you feel unbelievably elated, the sensation of his readied cock resting against your core solidifying the fact that you couldn’t possibly wait another night.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he peered down at you, a soft groan coming out of his mouth as his cock rubbed against you when he shifted slightly.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky with restraint.

You nodded, and spoke with as much certainty as you could have in a moment where you felt on the border of being totally consumed by lust and longing, “Fuck me, Pete.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing into you with a confident drive of his hips, your head tilting back as you cried out, the stretch of him filling you bare without a doubt the best thing you had ever felt.

Together, you quickly found a pace that suited you both, his thrusts slow and rolling but purposeful, his kisses growing more desperate on the skin of your neck and chest as each minute ticked on.

It took hardly any time at all for your climax to fire up within you, the anticipation of sex with Pete having let the intensity of it lay in dormancy right under the surface only to bring it forth faster than ever, his body linked with yours igniting and awakening every part of you.

You clawed at his back in a signal of your oncoming pleasure as well as a silent plea for more, half of you wanting to experience it immediately while the other half begged to prolong it all.

Clenching around his cock, you couldn’t ward it off any longer, moaning into his mouth as he continued to slam into you in a tempo that sent you to the edge but you could tell was beginning to falter as his climax took him in its clutches.

Your orgasm came through you hard and fast, shattering every inch of you as he followed right along with you, feeling him pulse and swell inside your walls, soaking him at the same time he filled you.

Pete kissed you almost frantically as he slowed his movements in you, savouring every second of being inside you while seemingly starving for more, your whines quieting out in his mouth as his breathing worked to calm to normal.

Emotion overcame him at the thought of never being able to experience this with you, the reality of him almost dying without ever having kissed you or touched you or loved you made his eyes burn, and closing them tight as he parted from your lips, he held your face in his hand and brought his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb moving to pull down your lower lip as you shared more laboured breaths.

You made love again and again through the night, resting between rounds only long enough to recharge, the addiction you had to each other increasing each time.

It was well after three in the morning when you had finally fallen asleep, exhaustion eventually taking over the nagging need for more, the cold comfort of the open window and your bodies wrapped together truly feeling like heaven.

The sound of rain and Pete stirring against you woke you up, making you scoot back against him to get closer to him, his arm that was wrapped around your waist tightening its hold and pulling you in.

He hummed in your hair, his body beginning to wake before his mind fully did, feeling him harden against your bum while his lips lazily kissed down the back of your neck.

A long moan sounded from you as you indulged in the blissful sensation, wriggling against him until his cock was firmly pressed between your cheeks, beginning to rock your hips languidly back and forth until his sleepy kisses turned to warning nips.

“Babe…” his sleepy voice purred in your ear, his lips pulling your lobe between them before his tongue swept along its shell.

“Pete…I need you.” His name fell from your lips in a whimper as your hand took hold of his and guided it between your legs, his fingertips gently stroking your clit until he had you begging for more.

Pete sat up and guided you onto all fours, positioning himself behind you where he gripped your cheeks with his hands to part them while he stroked your folds with the head of his cock.

Despite feeling how wet you were, he was aware how you would likely be sore from the amount of times he’d fucked you already, reaching over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand where he squeezed some out and coated his length until he hissed from the sensation of his own hand and slowly guided himself inside your tight walls.

He watched your hands grip the sheets as he filled you, your fingers relaxing slightly as he pulled back out, only to grip them harder and cry out when he pushed in again.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he muttered, keeping a slow tempo even though he was tempted to quicken it and destroy you.

He heard your soft hum of appreciation for his praise over the pouring rain, everything you did adding up to drive him insane and make him fall more in love with you, suddenly feeling as if being buried inside you wasn’t enough to appease his heart.

Pete wrapped his arm around you so his hand splayed out over your stomach, applying pressure to guide you to sit up and onto his lap, careful to keep himself locked in your cunt.

Spreading the remaining lube onto your clit with his fingers, Pete began to steadily work you, his other hand holding you up while also squeezing and massaging your breasts, his mouth worshiping the space between your shoulder and ear in an intoxicating way that had your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as a brisk gust blew in through the window, adding to the over-stimulation that assaulted every part of you, doing your best to focus on the fullness of Pete driving inside you as you rocked yourself on his lap.

You reached your arm up and around his head, stroking his hair and gripping at him as you rode him, feeling yourself beginning to lose all control but placing all your trust in him to take care of you just how you needed.

Still holding you firmly against him, he continued to strum between your legs, knowing how close he was getting you from how you subtly tried to escape his grasp and your body convulsed to his touch, feeling your hands tighten on his head and forearm that was wrapped around you to keep you in place.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he panted in your ear, feeling you angle your hips against his hand in order to gain more friction on your clit, chasing your end as he increased the power behind his hammering thrusts.

Quiet whimpers grew at a steady pace as they spilled from your mouth, your whines of pleasure drowned out in your own ears as you focused on the sound of Pete’s heavy breathing and the praises he was showering you with, the pouring rain tapping furiously against the glass panes.

You unraveled together, the way your body tightly coiled before turning limp milking out his climax at the same time, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin as he rested his parted lips on your shoulder and stilled inside you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you sank onto the mattress on your stomach, closing your eyes as exhaustion completely took over you, a faint smile tugging at your lips when you felt Pete follow, kissing up along your back until he collapsed half on top of you.

He took hold of your hand and brought it to rest between your bodies, kissing your knuckles softly until his breathing began to turn shallow as sleep quickly dragged him into its grasp.

These were the moments you knew you couldn’t live without, willing to sacrifice sleep night after night in order to love and be loved like this, the gratitude that filled you at being the one laying beside him as he slept outweighing any desire to close your eyes and miss even a second of it.

You knocked twice on the door before opening it anyway, letting yourself in just as Pete had told you to whenever you came over, the urgency you felt to get inside and out of the hallway too much to handle even if you weren’t allowed to walk in as you pleased.

Pete gave you an amused look, one of his eyebrows hooking high on his forehead as he placed the pen he had been holding in his mouth and reached for another paper to grade off the coffee table, your laughter sparking his curiosity.

“What?” he asked, letting out his own chuckle at your flustered state as you leaned against the door and ran your hand over your head.

“I was just stopped by Mrs. Platt. She told me she can hear us and to keep it down!”

Pete burst out laughing, shifting on the settee so his arm rested on the back of it to face you more.

“It’s not funny!” you argued, even though you were still laughing yourself, shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you had just had with the crotchety woman in her eighties.

“Oh, it is!”

“Pete!” you urged, as if saying his name would scold him into not making fun of the situation, walking through to the living area where you plopped your bag down on one of the chairs as you passed.

“She actually said, ‘It’s not my place, but do you two ever sleep? All I hear night after night is that bed banging against the flaming wall!’”

Pete only laughed harder, hanging his head back over the sofa where you stood behind it and leaned down to grab hold of his face, begging him to stop laughing before kissing him in order to try to shut him up when he didn’t.

He was still chuckling when you pulled away from him, prompting you to smack his chest as you cursed at him.

“I can’t keep being stopped in the hallway to listen to this poor old woman make comments about hearing us have sex!”

“Ah, she’s just winding you up!”

You turned to walk into the kitchen only to be stopped by Pete’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back to the couch that he leaned over the back of, looking at you with mischief in his eyes that made you melt and suddenly not worry about anyone hearing the things you did together.

“Come on, love,” he purred. “She ain’t heard nothing yet.”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” you asked, smirking as you freed yourself from his grip and made it into the kitchen, filling up the kettle.

“Both!” he replied, sitting back down on the sofa where he resumed marking his student’s homework.

“I need to take my car back to the mechanic,” you explained, shifting the conversation to something ordinary after a couple minutes of comfortable silence while placing a tea bag into your respective mugs.

“Yeah?” Pete asked somewhat distractedly as he focused on his task.

“Yeah, it's been making a funny noise whenever I accelerate, and it sort of jolts when I shift gear. Hopefully it’s nothing major or expensive, they were meant to be the best mechanic…”

“When are you taking it in?”

“Tomorrow morning. My sister’s going to meet me there and take me to work after.”

“I can do it if you want,” he offered, glancing over at you.

“Nah you’re off the hook,” you smiled, “she’s got some holiday time so I’m off duty being Jack’s chauffeur for a week!”

“Ah, look at you!”

“I know, right? She’s even taking him to practice this week.”

“That means I won’t get to see you there then, nothing good to look at on the sidelines and distract me,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes before pouring the hot water into your mugs.

“I reckon you’ll live.”

“Ah, then Mrs. Platt will just get to hear an even better show than normal when I get back home to you,” Pete laughed, ducking when you threw the tea towel at him.

The drive to Millwall took longer than normal due to rush-hour traffic, but it didn’t bother you as much as it typically would knowing you had a late start to your day that had been approved by your boss.

You pulled into the open bay door of the garage, parking your car and stepping out, giving a friendly smile to the mechanic who had helped you before.

“Giving you some grief, then eh?” he asked through a grin, nodding to your car as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah, as I said on the phone it’s kind of clunking when I’m shifting and the sound it makes when I accelerate worries me a bit…”

“We’ll put ‘er right, not to worry!” he beamed at you, extending his oil-stained hand to take your keys that you held out for him.

He stared at you for a moment, making you avert your gaze slightly, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Say, you don’t happen to know the Dunham’s do you?” he asked, his question making your head whip up again in surprise. “Steve and Pete? They’re brothers.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity somewhat guarded, “I do, as it happens…”

The way his smile changed and the shift in his eyes put you on edge and raised your suspicions, but you did your best to remain confident, interested as to why he was asking and how he knew who they were.

“I thought as much,” he nodded.

His response took you back, and you blinked quickly, trying to wrap your head around this whole inquiry.

“Sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

He hesitated, staring you down for a few seconds before answering, almost as if he was being careful to formulate a proper response or like he was unsure how much to tell you.

“...We’re old mates,” he said slowly, his smile not leaving his thin lips.

You nodded, glancing down at the embroidered name tag on the chest of his overalls, the name ‘Martin’ one you wouldn’t forget.

“Right,” he broke the silence, his tone more cheerful in disrupting the somewhat tense air. “We’ll have a look at it and likely get it back to you at the start of next week…give ya a ring when we know what it needs and what the damage is.”

“Ta,” you thanked him, giving him one last look before turning and walking out of the garage, heading to your sister’s car where she was parked on the road out front.

You pulled the handle on the door and sat down into the passenger seat, looking out the window into the shop where Martin stood with another man of equal stature, both of them glancing out in your direction.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, it’s fine,” you assured her, smiling at her as you put your seatbelt on. “Can we stop for a coffee on the way?”

It was a typical Thursday night at The Abbey, everyone gathering at the table one by one as they flowed in from work, a pint and some laughs with mates seeming to be of the same priority for each hardworking hooligan alike as the week started to take its toll and winded down to an end.

“Where’s Pete?” Ike asked, sitting down beside you with his fresh pint.

“Oh, he’s coaching tonight,” you explained, spinning what was left of your gin and tonic in its glass. “He should be here in an hour or so.”

Ike nodded in confirmation as he took a long sip of his beer, both of you drawing your attention to the Bjorno’s as they walked in with a cheerful greeting.

Dave planted a kiss on Clair’s lips as he stopped at the bar to get the drinks in, letting her continue on to the table where she sat down with a sigh.

“Long shift?” you asked, catching the weary look that she couldn’t easily hide.

She glanced at you exasperatedly, “Oh, don’t even get me started!”

“Here you go, my love,” Dave said while leaning down to place her drink in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he did.

You found it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around you, your attention glued to the small group of women standing at the far side of the bar, the looks they kept shooting your way making you feel uneasy.

“Hey, do you know who they are?” you asked Clair, subtly nodding in their direction as they leaned in over the bar to get closer to Vicky, the barmaid, before all staring back at you again.

“Those tarts?” Clair began. “Yeah, they’re mates of Vicky’s. Bunch of slags.”

You nodded, taking it in but still not having an answer as to why they seemed so interested in you, thinking of all the times you had nice enough conversations with Vicky, or so you thought.

“Pete used to have it off with the blonde one,” Bovver piped up, blowing the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette in your direction as he spoke.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead as you took in the information, finally having some clarity as to why these women you had never seen before were obviously unhappy with your presence.

“Fucked like crazy for a few months…” he continued, the iciness of his blue eyes holding something of a threat as he told you.

“Oi! Don’t be like that,” Dave scolded him, shoving his arm. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s true!” Bov scowled, his loyalty to his relations with Vicky clearly extending to her friends over you.

You sighed, trying not to let it bother you, reminding yourself that everyone, including you, had a past, and hoped that whatever issue she had with you would pass soon.

“Right, I need another,” you stated, shaking your empty glass in your hand as you stood.

Just as you anticipated, the daggers coming from across the bar dug into your back, still doing your best to ignore them while waiting for Terry to fix your drink, but that became impossible when the blonde who was apparently an ex of Pete’s slunk over to you and stood far closer to you than you would’ve liked.

“I didn’t think it was true, but here you are,” she began, her accent sloppy from the drinks she had tossed back already, her breath smelling of stale fags and the tartness of the cranberry juice she mixed with her vodka.

“What’s true?” you asked, giving her no more than a sideways glance as you fished the change from your pocket to pay for your drink.

“That Pete is dating a plain, old slag.”

“I’m sorry, and who might you be?”

“I was you only a few months back,” she grinned, her smile vicious and proud in her admission that she had been Pete’s at one time.

You huffed as you smiled, taking your drink from Terry who eyed you up as if offering his help, turning to go back to the table. The thought of him being with someone as vile as her made your stomach lurch, and not wanting to give it any further attention, you ignored her.

“I’m not done talking to you, you soppy cow!” she shouted, her lack of couth on full display to everyone around as a hush fell over the pub.

When you continued on your way over to the group, all of them watching with bated breath to see what would happen next, the satisfaction on Bovver’s face boiling your blood more than she was, her shrill voice sounded out again, making you pause.

“He said I was the best he’s ever had, and I’ll be right here to remind him of that.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the adrenaline making you feel shaky and on the verge of doing something stupid, but instead you neglected to give her the drama she sought and took your seat again, praying that Pete would get there soon.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Dave assured, leaning over Clair who had already offered to fight her twice. “It wasn’t that serious…”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured, hoping it sounded genuine or at least believable.

“I mean, they were at it together for a few months…” Keith added in, earning a scolding from both Dave and Swill, making you swallow thickly.

You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to tune out the sound of the lads bickering and the jeers still coming in your direction from across the bar, your eyes closing as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a couple more minutes, you stood and made your way through the bar to the loo, praying no one would follow you, your newfound enemies calling you names as you passed.

Pete finally made it to the pub, strutting through the crowd and desperate for a beer after a long day at work and then coaching out in the cold rain, the sight of his ex leaning what she thought was invitingly against the bar making him scowl as he passed.

When there was no sight of you at the table, he did a quick glance around, distractingly returning everyone’s greetings as he shrugged out of his jacket and sat.

��Oi, what’s she doing here?” he asked Dave, nodding over in the direction of the bar where they continued to stare over at him.

Dave shook his head, “They’ve been causing trouble, pal.”

Seeing Pete’s face fall into worry as he looked around for you again, Dave continued. “She’s in the toilets, she seemed a bit upset…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Pete muttered, standing and going through the pub in quick strides, not giving his ex even a glimpse as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the ladies room more aggressively than he intended, his anger at the situation and that cheap tart upsetting you getting to him, his anger quickly turning to surprise when he saw you standing in front of the tarnished mirror reapplying your lip gloss, appearing fine and unbothered.

“Can I help you?” you grinned, watching him in the mirror with unhidden amusement at his presence.

His head tilted a bit to the side, walking toward you slowly while still assessing you, his concern still creasing his features even though he was smiling back at you.

“They said you were upset…”

You laughed and shook your head, screwing the cap back on your lip gloss before sticking it in your pocket, turning to look at him directly instead of in the mirror, your bum sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Upset? Over those twats? Come on…” you shrugged, trying your best to play it cool even though it had bothered you more than you were letting on.

Pete closed the space between you and leaned his forehead against yours, still searching your eyes for any hints of you being hurt or shaken up.

You let your eyelids close, instantly feeling relaxed from him being close to you, breathing in deeply when he brought his hands up to hold your face.

“We all have a past, Pete,” you whispered, saying it more for your own conviction than his, the frustrated exhale he let out at his past involving that awful slag fanning over your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips moving against yours as they hovered there, teasing a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry,” you answered, your hands trailing up his chest where you took hold of the collar of his jumper and slid the material through your fingers, his body moving closer to yours. “Just kiss me, Pete.”

He did, crashing into you so hard your head was forced back but stopped by his hands still gripping your face, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily and greedily where you didn’t hesitate to match his fervor.

Everything was rough and desperate, kissing with a need to prove that each other’s lips were the only ones ever worth kissing, your hands pawing and groping in a crazed act of passion.

Pete’s fingers tore at the button and zipper of your jeans before diving his hand inside them, his long fingers stroking through your folds until your wet coated them, your moans reverberating in his mouth as you continued to kiss, your lips moving against each other sloppily and hastily.

After a minute, he withdrew from you, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down your thighs, his steely eyes staring at your exposed cunt as he quickly unfastened his own jeans and pulled out his hard cock before crashing against you again.

You spread your legs as wide as you were able to, giving him enough access to your core where he guided his leaking head, smearing his precum on your clit a few times until you were moaning and begging him to fill you.

Pete happily obliged, pushing inside your tight walls where he paused once he couldn’t go any deeper, kissing you frantically and groaning into your mouth from how good you felt.

Like he lost all sense of control, he slammed in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast while his mouth hung open and panted against yours in his efforts, the sink creaking precariously as you rocked your hips in time with his brutal thrusts, your fingers digging into the back of his neck and shoulders as you held on tight.

You were both so entranced in each other that neither of you noticed the door opening, his ex standing in the doorway in shock of the scene she walked into, scoffing as she turned and left.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, pulling his face away from yours slightly where he watched his cock slide in and out of you, the sight encouraging him to move even more furiously within you, your cries growing louder as your climax quickly built up.

“Pete!” you bellowed, a desperation in your voice that told him you were on the brink, and knowing you were at risk of screaming as you came, he covered your mouth with his and proceeded to pound you mercilessly, swallowing your noises of unbridled pleasure as you clenched and shuddered on his cock.

Only seconds behind you, Pete bucked into your soaked cunt until he pumped you full of his hot spend, feeling it leak out of you as he continued to slowly thrust, drawing out every moment of your highs that he could.

You laughed as you comprehended what just happened, smoothing your hand over your head as your chest rose and fell sharply, Pete chuckling as a mischievous and prideful look dressed his flushed features.

“It’s impossible to get enough of you,” he admitted, his eyes flickering over your face as he leaned his arms against the sink, caging you in.

You hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him long and slow and in a way you hoped conveyed everything you felt for him.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked when your kiss slowed to a pause, the blue of his eyes more vibrant and full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling at him softly while your finger traced the crease beside his mouth.

“Okay, darling,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his face moving into the side of your neck where he pressed kisses into the sensitive skin and made you squirm and giggle.

Stopping, he brought his face back up to look at you, his expression serious again, his hand finding yours where he laced your fingers together and gave it three gentle squeezes.

“You know you’re the only one I want, yeah?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back three times, smiling bigger as his own grew.

“I do, though I wouldn’t mind you showing me again…”

“Careful what you wish for!” he laughed burying his face into your neck again where he nipped and sucked at your skin, your laughter echoing against the tiled walls.

Pete walked out of the bathroom with you confidently after cleaning up and composing yourselves, even happier to see that his ex and the rest of Vicky’s horrible friends had left, the expressions on everyone’s faces as you sat back down at the table telling you they knew exactly what you had been up to.

“Oi, that colour suits you, mate,” Ned commented, pointing to his lips as he stared at Pete’s that were tinted from your lip gloss.

“Yeah? It’d suit yours too,” Pete said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Ned’s cheek quickly before he pushed him away, cursing and wiping his cheek dramatically.

Pete laughed as he took his seat, downing his pint that had been waiting for him to return to, leaning back in his chair where he pulled you onto his lap to have you proudly perch, the atmosphere more relaxed and as it normally was.

Red dripped into the sink one drop at a time, flowing steadily from so many places on his hands and face he wasn’t even sure where it was all coming from.

Pete tugged more tissues out of the box, bunching them up and holding them to what he thought was the deepest cut on his chin with as much pressure as he could, the ache in his hand preventing him from doing a sufficient job. He didn’t think he’d cracked on that Zulu cunt as hard as he did, but his knuckles proved otherwise, split open what felt like to the bone.

Any effects the pints in his bloodstream had provided him had definitely worn off now, his head pounding and every cut on him stinging and burning like mad, the severity of each fresh injury hard to determine as he looked at himself in the mirror through one good eye, the dark, puffy welt spreading up to his other from his cheek.

He stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his blood and sweat-stained clothes discarded in a heap on the floor, his reflection revealing bruises on his side and abdomen that refused to be ignored when he had lifted his jumper over his head.

It was late, and as quiet as he tried to be, Pete knew better than to think you wouldn’t have heard him come home, your inability to stay asleep for long without him something he secretly loved and made him swell, always feeling equally as eager to get back home and in bed with you.

“Hiya, love,” he muttered, smirking at you in the mirror when you appeared in the doorway, your sleepy face quickly changing to shock when you saw the state of him.

“I’m fine!” he stressed, knowing what your next words were going to be, the worry on your face breaking his heart a little.

“Pete…” you whispered, not in an accusatory or scolding way, but out of sheer love and care, your hands cupping his cheeks gently despite getting blood on them, your eyes searching his for truth in his claim of being okay.

“Fucking Zulu’s…” he trailed off, a small laugh blowing out of his lungs.

Never once had you asked him to stop fighting, and he knew you wouldn’t now, taking the aftermath of his hobby on the chin just like he did multiple times tonight, his love and appreciation for you making him feel a bit emotional as he watched you open the cupboard and get out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds.

He blinked back the moisture that had quickly accumulated in his eyes before you were facing him again, closing them when you pressed a careful kiss to his bloody lips, letting out a long sigh when you pulled away.

“Sit so I can see better,” you instructed, your voice soft and soothing to his ears.

Pete turned and stepped toward the tub, perching on the edge of it so he faced the sink for you to work, watching the deep red spots staining it dilute into a rusty colour as water ran from the tap and washed his blood off the porcelain.

Carefully, and for as long as it would take, you gently cleaned all of his wounds, wiping the blood that had dried and stuck in his blond stubble and dabbing the cuts that still oozed, your touch becoming lighter whenever you noticed a wince that involuntarily snuck past his attempts to hide them.

Luckily, nothing needed stitches, and even though Pete knew you were done cleaning and disinfecting each cut he’d sustained, you continued to linger, admiring his bruised and battered features.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close to him, letting his face lean into your stomach, breathing deeply as you raked your fingers up his bare back and through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, letting go of the tension held in them from taking the painful sting of peroxide seeping into his cuts over and over, his hands smoothing up your bare thighs and your bum.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you whispered, your lips pressing against his scalp.

He hummed, pulling his face away from the warmth of your body in his sweater.

“Yeah. C’mere,” he offered, shifting slightly so your legs had room to straddle him.

You seated yourself on his lap, smiling when his own broke out on his damaged face, your back arching into him when he placed his hands under his sweater that you had now worn more times than him to card up your back.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, admiring you for a moment before kissing you softly, his nose moving back and forth on yours a couple of times before nudging your cheek, resting his face against it while he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

“You’re welcome, love,” you cooed, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, making him melt into you even more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he spoke, mostly to himself, still finding it hard to believe that he had been lucky enough to survive his injuries and then have you walk into his classroom that one morning.

Pete kissed your cheek once, then again, each press to your soft skin urging him to add another and then more after that, eventually meeting your lips with his until minutes had passed with you lost in the haze created by your slow kisses.

His hands held your back firmly, keeping you close to him and preventing you from falling back as he moved his head away from yours and looked at you in a way that made you want to show him that the love you had for him existed like no other.

“I love you,” he professed, as if he had stolen the words right out of your mouth. Those three words were spoken with a calm surety that held such truth there was no way you could deny or question it, your fingers trembling against his cheek as you trailed them along the crease that flanked his lips.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

The taste of blood transferred onto your tongue again as he crashed into you, kissing you with more ardor than ever before, the relevancy of the cuts on his lips no longer a concern to either of you.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into you even more to deepen your kiss, your hips rolling against his just enough that you could feel his cock hardening, your bare core grinding on the somewhat rough material of the towel separating you.

Pete moaned into your mouth, and without stopping kissing you, leaned back enough to unwrap the fold of the towel from his waist, letting it fall open under him.

His hands slid under your thighs, guiding you to lift your hips in order to get on top of his cock, breaking your kiss to watch your face as you sank down on his length.

Before you even had the chance to start riding him, Pete ran his battered hands over your hair, his eyes holding as much softness as his voice did.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” he asked, wanting to savour the intimacy of being inside you unmoving.

You nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes as his nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips again, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

You would have been kidding yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a bit uneasy about going to pick up your car alone, the conversation you had had with the mechanic, Martin, when you dropped it off still fresh in your mind.

Pete was unable to take you, having to coach a practice after work, and your sister was taking Jack to it and staying to watch since she always missed so many, leaving you to take the tube over to Millwall to deal with it on your own.

You assured yourself over and over that it would be fine and that you were probably reading into things too much, but still the way he had mentioned knowing Steve and Pete and claiming to be old mates with them wasn’t sitting right with you. With work being so busy this week, you had completely forgotten to mention it to Pete, and you cursed yourself for failing to bring it up when you had checked with him again that morning if he was sure he couldn’t get someone else to coach for him.

As the stops to Millwall grew closer and closer, you did your best not to dwell, reading the book you brought with you while your leg bounced up and down unconsciously, your eyes scanning over the same paragraph again and again without being able to absorb the words.

“Alright, good job, lads!” Pete shouted after blowing his whistle, signaling the end of their practice.

He held the bag open for them to toss their soiled jerseys in, laughing at all their comments to each other and how supportive they all were of their teammates.

“Eh, Jack, will you help me gather up the pylons?” he asked when your nephew had made it over to him in the queue of rowdy boys.

As Pete knew he would, Jack happily jogged around the pitch and collected the majority of them, saving Pete and his leg the trouble of going to do it all himself.

“Cheers, mate,” Pete thanked him, ruffling his hair as he walked with him over to where his mum stood waiting.

“Great practice, love!” She praised her son, then smiled at Pete as Jack worked at untying his cleats and taking off his shin guards. “Reckon she’ll be back from Millwall soon, then?” she said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Millwall?” Pete asked, his face screwed up at the mention of his rivaled district.

“Yeah, that’s where the mechanic is she took her car to.”

“What’s the garage called?” he questioned, an urgency present in his voice as he reached in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

“I don’t know, I didn’t look when I had dropped her off and she never mentioned it…is everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Pete lied, trying to settle the rising panic he felt inside him at the thought of the garage you took your car to for repairs being Tommy fucking Hatcher’s.

He hit the button to dial your number and held it up to his ear, pacing as he listened to ring after ring before the sound of your voice came through, his heart falling when it was only your voicemail picking up.

“Fuck-” he hissed, hanging up before redialling, praying you would pick up and tell him you weren’t alone at Tommy’s garage.

The bell that chimed when the door opened sounded ominous tonight as you stepped through it, the smell of oil and exhaust fumes hitting your nose heavily, the distant sound of the radio and tools clanking against metal filling the otherwise quiet shop.

Your car was parked out front, seemingly ready to drive off in, and you hoped to settle the bill and get your keys quickly so you could make your way back to see Pete, wanting this day and especially this exchange to be over and done with.

Glancing through the window that looked into the garage from where the little waiting area was, you could see Martin bent over the bonnet of a car, and behind him, a small office where who you assumed was the owner sat at his desk.

When neither man noticed your presence, you stepped through into the bay, careful your heels didn’t slip on the greasy floor.

The man in his office finally caught sight of you, grinning with a somewhat villainous smile that split his hardened features, and you thought no matter how friendly he tried to appear, there was something about him that seemed impossible to soften.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, his voice matching his looks.

“Hi, sorry,” you stammered, “I’m just here to get my car.” You hooked your thumb and pointed over your shoulder in the direction of where it sat outside, planting your feet firmly on the cement floor while doing your best to stand tall and confident.

“Yeah, not a problem, I’ve got the paperwork all here for ya,” he explained, standing from his chair and turning to reach for some papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

Martin nodded as you walked past him to enter the office, giving you a curt ‘Evening,’ as you smiled weakly in return.

The man seemed to fill the entire space of his office, his form tall and broad, his personality giving off a powerful air that made you feel somewhat suffocated.

There were empty beer bottles on his desk, and scattered across the walls and cabinets that took up nearly every square inch of the small room were various pieces of Millwall F.C. paraphernalia.

“You a fan?” he asked, catching you looking at the poster of the crest hung on the wall beside him.

“Erm, no, I don’t really pay attention to football all that much,” you lied, the realization that this man was clearly a huge supporter of the club that was Pete’s sworn enemy making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

“No?” he questioned, his head tilting to the side as another vicious smile revealed his teeth. “Not even a fan of the mighty Hammers?”

The way he said it made your blood turn cold, and you swallowed thickly, thinking how Martin must have discussed your affiliation to West Ham United through knowing Pete and Steve, and you wondered if these men were members of Millwall’s infamous firm.

You shook your head and huffed out a false laugh, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“No,” you repeated, hoping he didn’t press his inquiry any further.

Clearing your throat to ensure your words came out properly, you started filing through the stack of notes you had taken out of the bank that morning, counting out what you had been told the total was going to be for the repairs.

“It was £450, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, watching as you placed the money on his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

“You sure you aren’t running about and singing along to ‘Forever Blowing fucking Bubbles’ then?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look like you hadn’t heard or even sang that song more times than you could count since meeting Pete.

“Ah, I see,” he said, slowly. “So you’re going to lie right to my face and tell me you’re not Pete Dunham’s missus, are ya?”

You almost choked, words unable to form on your tongue that felt too big for your mouth, the air in your lungs feeling trapped while everything around you started to distort as a dizziness overcame you.

“How…how do you know that?”

He pointed his finger at you, his lips still curled into a smile. “See, I knew you were lying to me, you little slag.”

You stepped back as he walked around his desk, his blue eyes icy with an evil you had never seen before.

“Don’t you think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, love,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk as he nodded behind you. “Martin there hates your little boy toy just as much as I do, so he won’t be letting you run past him too easily either.”

You kept still, taking in as deep a breath as you could, closing your eyes briefly to gain some courage as you thought of which of the many questions racing through your mind to ask next.

“How do you know who I am?” your voice squeaked out, unable to hide your fear.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, “I get people to find things out for me.”

“Right, I’d just like to get my keys and leave, I don’t want any trouble-”

“You’re missing the fucking point, here!” he shouted, cutting you off. “Didn’t little Petey warn you about me?”

You shook your head again, confused as to who this man even was to Pete. “No, I-”

“Was he too afraid to come with you, not man enough to protect you?”

He stood from his desk, walking closer to you until you were face to face and your back was pressed against a cabinet, leaving you nowhere to escape.

“Is the taste of death still too fresh for him?” he laughed, clearly amused in seeing you put it all together.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, that’s right, darling,” he cooed, his face so close to yours you could smell the stale beer and smoke on his putrid breath. “I’m Tommy Hatcher. The man who nearly wiped out the Dunham name.”

He seemed so proud of it, like the memory was something he revisited often, and you felt sick knowing you were standing vulnerable at the hands of the man who almost killed the one you couldn’t live without.

“It’s funny, innit? That out of all the garages in London to get your car fixed, you came to mine.”

His finger jabbed into your chest with each word, making you recoil to try to make space between you, only to press yourself harder into the cabinet.

“You’re vile,” you spat, shoving your arm against his chest to push him away from you, only to have him come back stronger and closer than before.

He gripped your chin with his meaty hand, his fingers digging into your skin so hard it made you yelp.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, love,” he warned, the pleasure he took in this written all over his grisly face. “How’s that nephew of yours, by the way?”

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of him getting to Jack and causing him harm, the lengths this horrible, soulless man would go to to make anyone he hated suffer having no limit.

“He seems like a good lad,” he whispered, his mouth hovering beside your ear where his hot breath made your skin crawl and you squirm in his grasp. “It’d be a fucking shame if he didn’t make it past his twelfth birthday just like my son didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t!” you cried, trying to move your legs enough to kick him, only to have his body lean harder into yours to stop you.

“See, you’re forgetting what I’m capable of. How easy it was to drive that bottle into Stevie’s neck and how much fucking joy I got breaking Petey’s body until he was lifeless on the ground.”

His grip tightened on your face as his eyes scanned over you, and despite your efforts to not let it happen, tears sprang from your eyes at the description of him trying to kill Pete.

“Don’t think it wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing to you or that little boy.”

With all the strength you had, you pushed against him, hitting him as hard as you could in his stomach while stomping hard on his foot, but Tommy was too strong, slamming you back into the cabinet so the handle drove into your ribs and all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you.

He laughed in your face, locking his forearm across your neck to keep you in place, your struggle to breathe seeming to satisfy him.

“I could do anything I wanted to you right now and no one would know or be able to stop me,” he bragged, growing more aroused with the power he held over you.

He ground himself against you, making you feel his hardness through his trousers, the possibility of you actually being sick between that and the lack of oxygen becoming more and more likely.

“It’s funny, you've got the same look of terror in your eyes as he did right before I smashed his fucking face in!” he pointed out, his laughter ringing through the room like you had just shared a joke together.

Within a split second his demeanor changed again, glaring at you seriously as his voice quieted and turned calm.

“See, I could rape you, ruin you so he’d never want to touch you again...”

You let out a broken sob, your eyes screwing shut when you felt his other hand travel slowly down your waist until he reached your thighs, stopping when he spoke again.

“But it’s lucky for you I’m a changed man.”

Tommy loosened the force of his arm against your neck, backing away from you slightly, and ran a hand over his hair to regain some composure.

“Don’t wanna be stuck in the nick again over someone as pitiful as you and your precious Petey!” he barked, adjusting himself in his pants crudely while you shook against the cold, metal cabinet.

He reached for something on his desk, turning around and quickly throwing your keys at your face where they missed and hit you hard in the chest, making you jump and cry out which only made him howl a maniacal laugh.

“Go on, you shitcunt,” he spat, “go home to Petey and cry all about it to him!”

You stooped and grabbed your keys off the grimy floor with a trembling hand, bolting out the door as fast as your legs would carry you, the sound of his and Martin’s laughter chasing you out of the building where you pressed the button to unlock your car as quickly as possible.

The tears didn’t come until you were out of the lot and onto the road, the lights from passing cars blurry and blinding as you finally let out wracking sobs, unaware of how fast you were going or which roads you were turning down, getting as far away from Tommy Hatcher as you could the only thing on your mind.

---

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment if you enjoyed this story! 💗

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Taglist:

@theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13 @stealfromthedevil @ramadiiiisme @rhoorl

#pete dunham #green street hooligans #pete dunham smut #pete dunham x female reader #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #pete dunham x reader #green street hooligans fic #pete dunham fic

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storiesoflilies · 5 months

Text

school bus love (2)

synopsis: the familiar bubbling buzz of excitement was beginning to make her brain fuzzy, and it was all because of him.

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader

warnings: none.

a/n: wake up everyone!!! new lily lore just dropped hehe <3 please don’t think i was cringe! i was 17 and had a big fat crush on a handsome boy hehe. please reblog if you would like to continue to hear about this story xo

drabble series link // part 1 // part 3

her dreams were filled with fluffy clouds painted pink and green, tangerine sunrises, twittering birdsong, and the tang of saltwater as she swam through an ocean of possibilities.

she’d wake up with her toes curling and a silly, giddy smile on her face, kicking her legs as she hugged her pillow, then immediately texting her friends back home that she’d had a dream about the boy again, convinced it was surely meant to be.

her gorgeous boy, whose name was toji fushiguro.

she’d found that by slyly asking well-placed questions to her friends and bus buddy, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping it wasn’t too obvious what she was trying to do. being the new student was a good cover, feigning innocence, pretending that she only wanted to know who everyone was at school.

“ooh, fushiguro,” her bus buddy said, a finger on her cheek in thought. “yeah, he’s been getting this bus for years. his friend group are a bunch of idiots, but he’s nice. one of the good ones.”

she heard that quite often whenever she asked about toji, that he was one of the ‘good ones’.

“you mean toji? he’s a good one.”

“keeps to himself, but he’s a good guy. never involved in drama”

“yeah, i don’t know how he’s friends with those guys, but if i had to pick, then he’s the good one.”

toji and the rest of the boys continued to sit next to her and her bus buddy in the mornings. they all had their designated spots, which meant he was always sitting across from her. nanami and her knew to leave just a little bit of extra space between them for him to put his feet up, and her brain would go into overdrive every time the tip of his sneakers touched the outside of her thigh.

she’d preen herself extra meticulously in the mornings, overthinking every stray strand of frizz sticking out haphazardly, swiping a touch of mascara through her lashes, and rolling up her skirt just an inch higher up her thighs, hoping once again that her mother wouldn’t notice as she scurried out the door to walk to the bus stop.

“if that skirt gets any shorter, i’ll know it’s a boy you’re after!” her mom shouted out in mock warning, rolling her eyes knowingly.

“see you later!” she’d answered back sheepishly, her heart thumping with anticipation at the prospect of seeing him.

although, despite her best efforts, she had never once caught toji looking at her.

she didn’t exactly know what game she was trying to play. toji would pretty much put his headphones on as soon as he got on the bus, not speaking to anyone really. she couldn’t ask anybody if he had a girlfriend; her intentions would become blatantly obvious if she did. but she didn’t really see any other option. otherwise, her heart would end up crushed and compressed like a soda can.

so one day, after a night of scrolling through his Facebook profile and finding nothing, she sucked in a breath and blurted out, “does fushiguro have a girlfriend?”

her bus buddy stilled, fingers paused in the middle of typing something on her phone, and raised a brow. “ohh, so that’s what all this has been about.”

a flush of heat ran through her. “what do you mean?”

her buddy smirked, tucking her phone into her blazer pocket as her complete attention was captured. “you like him.”

deny, deny, deny.

“psh, do not. was just wondering.”

“sure, babe. that’s why you look all dolled up in the mornings now. thought it was because of gojo, to be honest, but i respect the choice.”

she pursed her lips and said nothing, completely regretting her decision to even ask the question. her bus buddy sighed and gripped both of her shoulders, intensely staring at her as whatever plot was forming in her head brewed.

“right, time to play wing-woman. i’ll get the conversation going and rope you into it when i get the chance, okay?”

“so, does this mean he doesn’t have a girlfriend?”

“not that i know of, unless she doesn’t go to our school.”

the bus pulled up to the stop, and she saw toji’s familar black mop a head above the other students, along with gojo’s hair of white starlight and namami’s signature blonde locks. she gulped nervously and slowly made her way to the back of the bus. her bus buddy was looking over her shoulder, grinning excitedly when the boys finally boarded.

“you ready?” her buddy squealed, bouncing her legs up and down.

she shushed her loudly, glancing warily at the boys approaching them. the younger kids in the middle of the pathway were like buzzy bees flitting about a field of flowers. gojo glanced uninterestedly at them all, patting geto on the back to usher him into his spot. toji huffed as he took his seat, reaching into his pocket and opening up a chocolate bar.

her buddy nudged him, a little roughly, the corner of her lip curling upwards. “sup, fushiguro?”

toji frowned, as if questioning why she was even speaking to him, halfway through biting into his chocolate bar. “what?”

“nothin’, was just wondering how you were. haven’t spoken to ya in ages,” she smiled lopsidedly, leaning her back against the window and facing him more directly.

“yeah, fine,” toji replied slowly, still chewing. “and yourself?”

she tried not to make it obvious that she was listening in to their exchange, so put on her headphones and played her music on a low volume. her buddy continued chattering away to toji, who still looked mildly confused, while nanami surprisingly chimed in every so often as well.

a light kick to her shin snapped her out of her thoughts, and she pulled on her headphone wires to remove them from her ears, looking at her friend expectantly, the tips of her ears warm as her heart pounded.

this could be it.

“hey, we were just talking about plans for the summer. what have you got planned?” she asked, both eyebrows raised.

“oh, i think I’ll be going back home for a while,” she answered, crossing her legs over.

“right, yeah, makes sense,” her friend mused, nodding her head. “i’m sure you miss it.”

it was silent for a beat, and then nanami piped up beside her, “it’s really warm where you’re from, right?”

she giggled softly. “yeah, you could say that. almost never rains.”

“fuck,” toji scoffed, shoving his empty wrapper into his pocket. “sign me up.”

the world stopped for just a second.

it was just him, with his green eyes focused on her, and she felt like the only girl in the world.

she grinned, flashing her teeth, and let out a genuine laugh.

she felt on top of the world.

general taglist (open): @tadabzzzbee

school bus love taglist (open): @wannapizzamymindposts @badbyeyoongi @stromynight

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk toji #toji fluff #dividers by cafekitsune #gojo satoru #namami kento #geto suguru

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yaniiiiism · 10 days

Text

stars and raindrops. -k.sm 🥯 // 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾.

chapter one <3

☆┆pairing : kim seungmin x fem!reader ͏ ☆┆ info : sadfic , fluff , melancholy , unrequited love (cough cough) , feelings , mature themes , suggestive , bsfs , one sided , uni au , happy ending (?) ͏ ☆┆ personas + bg : uni students ; best friends ; trio of jisung, seungmin and reader. music students! ☆┆ word count : 3.1k ☆┆warnings : sad, seungmo's a sweetheart but just clueless. notes at the end !!

𓇼 ! 🖇️ 🪽 🐇 𓊇

i ) ꕤ it's useless, everything is useless, even if they say it's useless.

The brunette sat slouched on his dorm's worn-out, velvet couch, his eyes locked onto the ceiling but his mind clearly elsewhere. He hadn’t moved in the last half-hour, a dead giveaway that something was eating away at him. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner, the low volume of the random drama playing on the tv, and the occasional distant sounds from the campus just 9 floors below.

The sound of the door unlocking barely snapped him out of his trance. His dorm-mate pushed the creaking wooden door open with her hip, one hand loaded with takeout bags, a pepero stick hanging loosely from her lush lips, and her familiar, black, guitar case slung over her back, the stickers on it glistening slightly as it reflected in the muted sunlight. She huffed as she struggled to balance everything in her hands.

"Guess which lovely roommate of yours got takeout!" she announced grandly, her voice still a contrast to his silence, despite muffled by the chocolate pepero in her mouth. She stepped inside with an exaggerated sigh, kicking the door closed behind her and using her feet to slip off her converses, the effort almost graceful. The strap of her grey tank top slipped slightly off her shoulder as she tossed her guitar case to the side, which she barely managed to catch before it hit the ground.

But that idiot, too busy day-dreaming, didn’t notice her, his eyes still distant, staring blankly ahead. Without skipping a beat, the annoyed lady tossed the pepero box toward him, admittedly aiming for his– fluffy, brown hair that always drew her attention and made her drool; hoping to catch his undivided attention. The box smacked lightly against the top of his ear, ruffling a bit of his hair, then his shoulder, making him yelp in surprise. He straightened, finally aware of her presence.

"Hey!" Seungmin protested, grabbing the box and rubbing his shoulder to ease the ‘pain’, as if the impact had actually hurt. "What was that for?"

“Don’t blame me,” The girl in question simply rolled her eyes, an annoyed glint in her eyes as she struggled to walk with all the weight in her hands, him unbothered by her presence. “You were totally zoned out, daydreaming about Eunha, probably?” Her voice carried a subtle hint of meekness, though she tried to cover it up.

The loverboy slightly flinched at the mention of her name, his expression shifting from startled to slightly defensive. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now held a depth as he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I wasn’t daydreaming about anyone," he muttered, his voice a bit too sharp, betraying the truth behind his denial. (stage 1: denial but we’re on y/n’s side rn so fuck u eunha)

"Right, because that totally explains the sulking," she shot back, her tone playful but her eyes sharp, catching every little telltale sign of his mood.

Y/n glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she unpacked the takeout, laying out the boxes of fried chicken and spicy noodles with precision, yet distraction. The savoury aroma of the food filled their small dorm, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne that lingered in the air. Food and nothing else – a simple meal that should have made him smile, but today, the same as the past few days, it felt more like her gesture barely registered.

"What, did Felix crack another lame joke, and Eunha laughed too hard at it?"

He groaned, leaning back into the couch, the takeout momentarily forgotten. "It’s just... I don’t get it," he finally admitted, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were talking more to himself than to her. "He’s not even that funny, man, but she just—" He trailed off, his frustration evident as he buried his face in his hands.

The girl just watched him, her heart sinking a little. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen this coming; her roommate’s massive crush on the university’s most loved girl, who aced in academics and in talents, had been as clear as day from the start. But seeing him like this, so tangled up in feelings that seemed to lead nowhere, the stupid unrequited love, it bothered her in ways she didn’t want to know.

She bit down on the same pepero, trying to focus on the crispy sweetness in her mouth rather than the ache in her chest.

"Well, maybe he is kinda friendly or funny?” She blurted out, accidentally, earning a loud whine and a glare from the guy in front of her – that she almost choked onto the pepero. “What I meant was.. maybe she just has a.. terrible sense of humour!" she offered lightly, hoping to lift his spirits, even just a bit. "Or she’s just... I don’t know, blind?"

After getting some water, and washing her hands, the girl plopped down on the floor, her back resting against the edge of the coffee table, her knees drawn up as she tore open a pair of chopsticks. "If looks could kill, the ceiling would’ve been toast by now."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the strands flopping back into place with that annoyingly perfect, tousled look, she’d say. "You’re terrible at talking, I think shutting up would be easier for you."

She chewed offendedly on another quick pepero stick, her eyes never leaving his annoyed face. He could feel her gaze, like a warm, steady pressure, and it made him fidget under the weight of it.

"Look, I’m sorry but Jisung and I, both, are really running short of ‘comforting’ phrases right now, for your certain unrequited love,” she quipped. She simply shrugged, used to this, as she dug into the bowl of hot noodles. “It’s been a year, Seungmin.”

He avoided her eyes, joining her on the floor too, reaching for the same with a mumbled thanks, but she wasn’t about to let him do that just yet.

She lightly slapped away his wrist, “Wash your hands first, dipshit,” She shot a glare, not wanting her meal to be ruined by his groggy, lazy attitude.

He groaned at the pain, standing up lazily, having no option but to obey her.

“Being a close friend and a roommate to me doesn’t make you any less of a guy, you know!” She called out, the corner of her lip curled into a teasing smirk as she continued to eat.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the quiet ticking of the clock filling the space between them. She busied herself with the food, passing him a box of fried chicken, which he accepted with a small smile. He was grateful, of her and Jisung both, even if he didn’t say it outright.

the next day.

The day rolled in quietly, the sun casting a pale glow through the blinds of her room, illuminating the soft dust particles dancing in the morning light.

Her roommate had been up earlier than usual, probably pacing back and forth in front of his mirror, combing through his dark, chestnut hair like a man on a mission. He mumbled to himself, practising lines as if they were the opening of some grand opera, but in reality, it was just another attempt to talk to Eunha.

How’d she know that? You’d ask, but blame the loverboy. It was seven in the morning, their rooms were right on the two sides of the wall, so yes, she could hear his footsteps and groans.

Fuck you, Kim Seungmin, she thought. Turning her head away and pulling the blanket tighter over herself, she tried to slip into slumber once again. Yet, even in her half-asleep state, she could feel the familiar pang in her chest.

Unable to sleep, she got up from the bed with a groggy groan, almost tripping on her slippers, before wearing them quickly. She walked out of her room, approaching his room, as she twisted the knob slowly.

She stared at the guy through the little crack, him being oblivious to her presence. Nothing new, of course.

"You know, practising in the mirror, early in the morning every day, won’t make you any better at flirting," she muttered, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Seungmin stopped his pacing and turned to face her, the hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. "I’m not trying to.. flirt. I’m just– preparing," he said defensively, tugging at the collar of his shirt, trying to make it look presentable.

“You’ve woken me up for the ninth time this week.”

“Oh.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry, I’ll keep it down next time..” He mumbled out an apology, her eyes softening and glistening a light tap of vulnerability to his voice.

But she clouded it, once again, “You better.” She pretended to act annoyed, grumbling under her breath as she left his room.

During breakfast, the two met again. Since it was a Thursday, it was the girl’s chore to make breakfast. After a while of stir-frying vegetables, making 2 omelettes, and roasting some bacon, the brunette emerged from his room, smelling the food.

"Does this hoodie make me look too... I don’t know, comfortable? Casual?" Seungmin asked, his brow furrowed in frustration as he fidgeted with the drawstrings, walking to the counter. His breakfast was casually plated well, as he reached the fridge to get the usual apple juice, mumbling out a quiet thank you.

Y/n, who was too busy flipping the last omelette, which was hers, didn’t need to look up. "You look like you’re going to a study group, not a date," she quipped, fingers idly reaching for the black pepper from the upper shelf.

He turned to her, pouting. "It’s not a date, and anyway, Eunha said she likes when people are… casual."

She rolled her eyes, biting back a sigh. "Right. Because clearly, what Eunha says and what she does are the same thing."

Ignoring her sarcasm, Seungmin got his plate, his glass of apple juice, and mumbled a quick thank you again, before walking to the couch.

Later that afternoon, the raven-hair found herself idly snacking on another pack of pocky sticks, on a bench outside the university cafeteria, sharing the space with Jisung, who, as usual, had his earbuds in and was tapping away at some random beat on his phone, with the occasional talk. She glanced up just in time to spot Seungmin standing across the courtyard, his face lighting up as he spotted Eunha approaching with Felix.

"Here we go again," Jisung mumbled, pulling out one earbud as he noticed the scene unfolding. "Seungmin’s endless mission to woo the girl who has no idea how to even spell his name."

Y/n couldn’t help but snort. "Right? I swear, he’ll bring her banana milk today, and Felix will show up with chocolate milk, and they’ll just stand there, offering her beverages like some weird vending machines."

"And guess who’ll win?" Jisung raised an eyebrow.

"Not Seungmin, that’s for sure." Y/n's voice was a little more bitter than she intended, but Jisung didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the spectacle ahead.

As if on cue, Seungmin greeted Eunha with a shy smile, handing her a neatly packaged bottle of strawberry milk this time. Felix, not to be outdone, pulled out a chocolate bar from his bag, causing Eunha to giggle softly.

Y/n watched the exchange, the ache in her chest growing with each passing second. It wasn’t just Seungmin’s persistence; it was the way his eyes softened every time Eunha smiled, the way his posture changed when she laughed—he stood a little straighter, as if her attention alone gave him some kind of superpower. It was... poetic, in a tragic way.

"Look at him," Y/n muttered under her breath, her voice thick with unspoken feelings. "He’s like some lovesick poet in a cheesy romance drama."

Jisung followed her gaze, and with a dramatic sigh, he added, "Oh yeah, totally Shakespearean. Except instead of 'Romeo, Romeo,' it’s more like 'Eunha, Eunha, why don’t you notice me?'"

Y/n snickered, even though it hurt. "And here I am, the sad side character in the background."

Jisung glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "You sure you’re not the main character in this tragedy?"

Before Y/n could respond, Seungmin beckoned them over from across the courtyard, clearly having noticed them. She sighed, pushing herself up from the bench. "Come on, let’s save him from himself."

As they approached the trio, Seungmin’s eyes lit up, clearly relieved to have his best friend and dorm-mate join him. "Hey, you guys! We were just about to grab some lunch. Wanna join?"

Eunha smiled brightly, seemingly pleased with the idea. "Yeah, come with us! The more, the merrier."

Felix, ever the friendly competitor, added with a grin, "Yeah, plus, we could use a buffer. You guys can make sure Seungmin doesn’t steal all of Eunha’s attention."

Y/n forced a smile, ignoring the jab of jealousy that Felix’s words brought. "Sure, why not?"

As they sat down together in the cafeteria, Seungmin was, unsurprisingly, absorbed in Eunha, hanging onto her every word like she was some rare bird singing a once-in-a-lifetime song. He laughed at every joke, even the ones that weren’t all that funny, and leaned in a little closer every time she spoke.

And Y/n? She could only watch from across the table, her heart twisting in knots as Seungmin admired Eunha the way she admired him. It was almost poetic, the way his gaze softened when he looked at Eunha—the way he seemed to forget the rest of the world when she was near. Y/n knew that look all too well, because it was the same way she looked at Seungmin, hopelessly and silently.

Felix, ever perceptive, seemed to notice the shift in Y/n’s mood. He leaned over slightly, nudging her with his elbow. "You okay?"

She plastered on a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... tired, I guess."

Felix didn’t push, but he gave her a knowing look, his gaze flickering between her and Seungmin before he turned back to the conversation at hand.

"So, Eunha," Seungmin was saying, his voice almost reverent, "what made you get into photography? You’re so good at it."

Eunha blushed slightly, twirling a strand of her hair. "Oh, I’ve always loved capturing moments, you know? I think there’s something beautiful about freezing time in a picture. It’s like... you get to hold onto a memory forever."

Seungmin’s smile widened, and Y/n could practically see the admiration glowing in his eyes. "That’s... that’s beautiful."

Y/n, on the other hand, silently picked at her food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. How long was she going to watch him fall for someone else? How long was she going to be the one sitting on the sidelines, waiting for something that would never come?

Jisung, noticing her quietness, nudged her under the table. "You’re unusually q—" he whispered, or tried to.

She shrugged, shooting a glare his way. "Quit it, squirrel face.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He knew her well enough to recognize when she didn’t want to talk about something, and right now, her facade was clearly visible to him.

The air between them thickened slightly, a tension she couldn’t quite shake off. Her heart pounded in her chest, its rhythm uneven, as her thoughts wandered. She stole a glance at the brown-haired boy across the room, her gaze softening as it settled on him.

His fluffy hair, a tousled mess of warm chestnut, danced lightly with each nod and drift of the wind, catching the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost sun-kissed.

He was talking animatedly with Eunha, his every gesture filled with an energy she had grown to both adore and dread.

His smile, wide and genuine, lit up his entire face, causing his eyes to shine with a brightness that made her chest tighten with a familiar ache.

His presence was magnetic, effortlessly drawing her in like a moth to a flame, even as she tried to resist. She watched the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the soft curve of his lips that always seemed to hover between a grin and a laugh.

It was a sight she could never grow tired of, yet it pained her all the same.

He was a picture of effortless charm, with his broad shoulders and lean frame, the way his clothes always seemed to fit just right. But it wasn’t just his appearance that captivated her; it was the way he carried himself, the kindness in his voice, the gentleness in his movements.

But more the way he cared. Not a lot for her, but for the people he loved.

The way he went out of his way for those he cherished.

Even when she wasn’t one of them.

It was.. cruel, in a way. But how could she hate him? That’s the guy who made her fall in love for the first time. Who made her feel ‘love’ for the first time. Even when he didn’t know it.

He had a way of making everything around him seem brighter, more alive, more.. appreciated.

And then there was Eunha. Her presence beside him was like a shadow that made her heart sink into a deep hole, even as she tried to push the feeling away.

Eunha, with her flawless skin and effortless beauty, her laughter like music that filled the room. She was everything Y/n wasn’t – poised, graceful, just.. perfect. And it was clear that her lover saw it too.

The hopeless romantic could see it in the way his gaze lingered on Eunha, how his eyes softened whenever she spoke. The way he leaned in just a little closer to catch every word she said, his attention fully captured by her. His admiration for Eunha was evident in every glance, every smile, every word he spoke to her.

She watched him as he admired Eunha, the way his eyes seemed to trace every delicate feature of her face, the curve of her lips, the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders.

His expression was one of quiet reverence, as if he were witnessing something godly, something precious. It was a look that maybe she, herself, found to be doing, to him who was so busy with someone else. The look, she had once hoped to see directed at her, but now, she could only watch from the sidelines, her heart burying with each passing moment.

Y/n admired him with the same intensity, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way his smile seemed to light up the entire room. But while his gaze was filled with admiration for Eunha, hers was filled with longing, a silent yearning that she knew would never be returned.

She swallowed hard, the knot in her chest tightening. She could hear their laughter ringing in her ears, but it was distant, drowned out by her thoughts.

It was too much.

˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ ♡ ㅤ۫ㅤ ೀ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤㅤ✧

a/n ♡︎

guys i js became seungmo biased (this series is the output.) AAAAAAsshshaa no1. seungmo no2. minchan. new series AAAAA gonna try to update daily !! yes ik just fine is YET TO BE POSTED but i swear im js putting it on hold till my mid terms end !! cuz it kinda has complexity and i won't be able to spend a lot of time writing <3 this series is som i wrote during my breaks between studying ^^ plz give sm love to this series, i love it sm😭😭 made another spam acc for skz @loveforseung ALSO I HAVE AO3 NOW !! user's same as @loveforseung go follow !! also making a masterlist for all of my posts, plz lmk if u wanna be a part of it ! <3 have a good day ~ – love, yani ♥︎

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agi-ppangx · 1 year

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hello, hello, we meet again for a new idea of a ff. (atp I think I deserve an emoji or smth, so you can know it's me bcs get used to me giving you ideas. you write too beautifully to not have requests, I'm sorry. P.S.: js recommended you to a few friends and to my girlfriend and they all congratulated your skills of writing!💕)

anyway, what do you feel about an enemies to lovers trope with lee know? reader's a trainee (dancing is her speciality) and she is the first one to break the trainee record of being the fastest trainee to learn the basic JYP entertainment moves in 4 weeks, which she was very proud of. This until a new trainee comes, Lee minho, who learns the moves in 2 weeks, breaking reader's record. This gets reader annoyed and works even harder to prove the people around that she is a better dancer than him. They never talk, only rarely mocking each other when the other one wasn't around.

Then, it comes the Survival Show (im sorry - not really - but im changing the shows's rules. there will be two teams, FEMALE 2TEAM - made with Yeji, Yuna, Chaeryeong, Ryujin, Somi and reader - and MALE 2TEAM - we already know the contestants for this team- which will create then a group of people who didn't get eliminated. the elimination happens every episode, two people leaving) where the two of them have to work together in order to create the perfect balance for the choreography between the two teams. That's how they start getting along better and actually realize that they could be friends. They still had arguments but never something too big. When it was time for the elimination in episode 4, minho, reader and yuna were om the verge of elimination. However, only reader didn't get eliminated. Tears in everyone's eyes as minho and Yuna leave the set, but reader soon understands that it was minho's place to be in the boy group. She talks to JYP about being a bad idea the fact that it will be a mix group and that she prefers not to be involved in such a drama, in order to get minho back in the team. she succeeds and runs to minho, telling him the situation. (the last few sentences, make it soft like- fluffy? idk??)

~ the jeongin ff anon

💭the right thing

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

an: im really for the wait but the fic is finally here !! i hope you'll be satisfied with it❤️ also thank you so so much for recommending my blog, it means the world to me🥹 and yes, you do deserve an emoji !! please let me know which one you choose<3

“our dancing queen~” you heard ryujin’s voice which interrupted your conversation with yuna. you looked up at her, curious what was that about. “i have bad news for you,” she added, sitting next to you. you raised your eyebrow - bad news? what kind of bad news? “someone broke your record, yn.”

you weren’t mad at all. were you mad? no, no, you weren’t. it’s okay, it’s just a stupid record. it’s nothing important. it’s okay. it’s not like it was something you’d worked hard your whole life. no. no, it’s fine. you were completely fine- “yn, put the knife down,” yuna said firmly, looking at your dissociated figure. “put it down, did you hear me? you have this weird absent expression on your face and it looks scary.” you slowly put the knife in the sink, sighing loudly, and leaned your hands on the counter. you felt yuna’s arms wrap around you from behind, gently placing her chin on your shoulder. “you know it means absolutely nothing, right? you'll always be our dancing queen,” she whispered, trying to cheer you up a little bit. did it work? no, no it didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t sulk for the rest of your life, so you just nodded weakly and proceeded with your daily routine, trying to forget about everything. after all, you had to prepare for the showcase and you didn’t have time to worry about some random dude you’ll forget in a month anyway.

your next practice was intense to say the least. It all started with just yuna, yeji and you, but then some other trainees decided to join you and after some time almost the whole practice room was filled with people. and among those people was lee minho, dancing at the front next to you. his presence was making you nervous, but motivated you as well. you tried your best for hours, sweat (and some tears) were making its way down your face, muscles hurting and head spinning, but you didn’t slow down. minho noticed your state in the mirror and mumbled something under his nose, smirking, but you didn’t catch it. so, you stopped the dancing and took a step in his direction. “you wanna repeat that?” you asked, your cold piercing gaze was trying to burn holes in his head. but he just looked at you and shook his head. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. go back to practising,” he responded, visibly happy with your annoyance. “you definitely need it more than i do,” he added with an evil smile, much quieter, but that you managed to catch. you scoffed at his words, amused by his exaggerated self-confidence and decided to try ignoring him for the rest of the practice. you had to prove something, not to get into stupid fights with minho.

“you need it more than i do,” you said in a mocking tone when you decided to take a break from practising. you were currently sitting in a convenience store with the girls, fumbling with your noodles and losing your appetite just thinking about minho. you were furious. “who does he think he is, huh?” you rambled on and on, your head hurting from all the negative emotions that were building up inside you. “yn, i love you, but i think you care a bit too much,” chaeryeong said softly, taking a sip of her drink. you looked at her and raised your eyebrow. she noticed your not-so-friendly gaze and spoke again. “don't get me wrong, but it really doesn't matter that he beat the record. there are so many other people who are great dancers without breaking the record, it's just a formality.” you nodded weakly at her words. she was right. of course it didn't matter. “besides,” ryujin started with a mouthful of ramen. “you still can show you're better by debuting sooner than him,” she continued and went straight back to eating. she was also right. the only way to show you were better than him was debuting and that was your goal.

“a mixed group?” you huffed after the showcase was done. you were still in your stage outfit, catching your breath after an exhausting performance. JYP surprised you all, deciding to change the rules a bit and create a mixed group instead of choosing one of your teams to debut. it wouldn’t be anything bad, but since minho was a part of the male group, to say you were mad was an understatement. “yn, look at the positives - we might be able to finally debut. you’ve been here for so long already, you should be celebrating,” yeji said firmly and the rest of the girls nodded with approval. “i am happy, of course i am. and i'm gonna celebrate. i just don’t feel too fancy about the fact that i might end up in one group with lee minho,” you exhaled loudly, sounding more and more defeated with each word. “i mean, nothing’s sure for now. lots of us are gonna be eliminated, so maybe he’ll be one of those people?” ryujin suggested and earned a slap on her arm from yeji. “stop the negativity, no one’s eliminated yet. let’s just go eat something and don’t think about anyone else other than ourselves,” yeji exclaimed, hyping you all up and you decided to drop the topic for the night and enjoy your little success, knowing that there was just gonna be harder with each day.

“no, no, i'm not doing this,” you whined loudly, falling on your bed late at night. your body was aching from the whole day of practising and recording a song JYP asked you to create with the male group. he assigned the composing to chan, changbin and han, while the people who were responsible for choreography were you and minho. and to no one's surprise you weren't happy about this. but you had nothing to say since it was JYP's decision - you had to respect it.

that's how you ended up in the boys' dorm, alone with minho. it was awkward, to say the least. you didn't know how to behave and since minho hadn't really said anything else than “come in” and “you wanna drink something?”you just stood there in silence and looked around a little. the rest of the boys either went to eat or stayed at the company to practise, so it was really quiet there. “chan sent me the finished song,” he finally spoke, his voice soft and steady. you nodded and asked him to play it to you so you could think about the choreography a bit. you closed your eyes when the song started playing and listened intently, paying close attention to certain parts of the chorus. when the song was done, you opened your eyes and noticed that minho was staring at you. you raised your eyebrow and he cleared his throat, converting his gaze at his phone. “so, um… do you have any ideas where we should start?” he asked faintly and you started to share your concept with him.

that's how your little cooperation started. your first choreography was met with a huge enthusiasm from both teams as well as JYP himself. you did well and because of that minho and you were officially in charge of creating a perfect balance in choreographies between both teams. you weren't as mad as before, because you actually kind of enjoyed working with minho - he had different experiences with dancing and therefore he was able to share his unique ideas with you. it wasn't too easy though, because you both had strong characters and you struggled to come to a compromise sometimes, but regardless of your small disagreements you warmed up to him and felt this weird urge to spend more time with him. what was happening to you?

that's why, when episode 4 came and you two were on the verge of elimination alongside yuna, you felt as if your world was going to collapse. you struggled to breathe standing in front of JYP. he had this serious expression and was looking at the three of you. “yn and minho,” you heard his voice and stiffened, your heart speeding and tears welling in your eyes. “you were in charge of the choreography again, but something didn't work this time,” he continued and your hands started shaking. minho noticed it and quietly took your hand in his, squeezing it to reassure you. JYP shared his feedback with yuna as well and you exhaled shakily. you were scared. “yn.” you looked up at JYP again, expecting the worst. “for me your enthusiasm and willingness to work and become even better is clearly seen. and even if this week you and minho didn't do your job properly, i see the most potential in you,” he continued in a serious tone. “that's why you are the one to stay. you can come back to your team.” you stood there in shock, tears now streaming down your face. you bowed clumsily and took a step back, your vision blurry. you didn't really remember the rest of his words, but when he left the set, you rushed to yuna and minho and hugged them tightly, sobbing. “i'm so sorry,” you babbled. “i'm so, so sorry.” “it's okay, it's not your fault,” yuna said shakily. she then smiled at you and went to say goodbye to others. you then hugged minho again, burying your face in his chest. “you should be the one staying here,” you mumbled, sniffling. “i'll fix this,” you added, looking him in the eyes. he only patted your head and smiled softly. “it's okay, we did a great job anyway,” he chuckled. “bye, yn. i liked to work with you even if you hate me” “bye, minho. i don't actually hate you.”

it wasn't right. no. it was his place, he belonged here. you spoke to JYP once, but he brushed you off after a minute. then you spoke to him for the second time, he said no. you tried again, he told you his decision was made. but you didn't want to respect it. it wasn't right. after episode 5 you went to him again. this time, he listened to you, taking in everything you wanted to say about this being a bad idea. “i'm willing to switch places with him, just please bring him back,” you pleaded. but he only said you should go back to your dorm. you cried on your way there. and you cried yourself to sleep that day.

episode 6 and minho came back. you couldn't believe your eyes - JYP brought him back. you didn't really listen to the man when he was explaining everything. you only saw minho - his eyes were so sparkly and when they met yours, you saw him smile widely. then JYP left the practice room to give you some time to reunite and you didn't waste time. you ran to him and immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. you rambled on and on that you were so happy to see him again and explained the whole situation. you must've started crying at some point cause minho had to wipe some tears from your cheeks. “i make you cry a lot, huh?” minho said jokingly when you stopped the ramble. “no wonder you hate me,” he added and your smile faded. “i don't hate you. if i did, i would've choked you instead of hugging you right now,” you giggled, smiling again. “fair point. but if you don't hate me then how do you feel about me?” minho teased, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “i was hoping you would know by now.” “oh, i do. i just want you to say it out loud,” he said, his face getting closer and closer to yours. but you didn't respond to that, pecking his cheek instead and finally backing off a little to let the rest say hi to him. you were smiling the whole time and you knew you did the right thing.

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