#we need another AT to set the record straight again

[kasumingo]

AT was just so groundbreaking through and through

[icewindandboringhorror]

One of the interesting bits of trying to resume working on the game after so long is looking back at my ancient Draft Placeholder versions of an image from 4 yrs ago trying to remember what the hell I meant back then, to hopefully interpret it into some more final (ish..) form of the same thing .. making slow progress lol

[januaryembrs]

oblivious!reader x downbad!spencer who’s not even nervous to flirt with reader anymore cuz she just doesn’t get it (probs older episodes spence)

CLUELESS | Spencer Reid x reader

description: Spencer's got a crush, too bad you're entirely clueless to his dilemma. (S3!Spencer in mind)

length 1.2k

At first he’d thought it was the world’s gentlest form of rejection, how you would dodge his questions, barely bat an eye at him laying himself bare for you, thought that maybe you were pretending not to see the way his hands shook and voice quivered to save him some face. 

“I-I was wondering if you wanted to go see Zodiac at the movie theatre?” He stammered, obsessively tucking his hair behind his ear because it felt like it was ticking his cheeks, or perhaps that was just some residual sweat gathering on his temple because you were just so pretty when you looked at him like that, your eyes wide and excited, waiting for him to finish speaking because you always loved to listen to him, “I was thinking we could try comparing it to the actual case and figure out how accurate their hollywood version of it is,” 

Your face lit up like the fourth of July, and your smile was blinding, “Oh, I love the movies! It’s going to be so fun, Spence!” You chirped, whirling around in your desk chair to meet Emily’s bored stiff expression as she scrolled through her computer, “Em, Spencer wants us to go see Zodiac, you in?” 

Spencer paled, because that was not what he’d meant by we whatsoever. It wasn’t that he held anything against Emily, nor JJ or Penelope as they were quickly roped into the plans as well, he just hadn't had them in mind when he thought to ask you out on a date. From what he could tell you hadn’t escaped spending time with him alone on purpose. He just hadn’t quite been specific in his question, it was an easy mistake to make. 

But you looked so excited as you organised who was getting what snacks, quickly dibsing the seat slap bang in the middle of everyone so you wouldn’t feel like anyone got left out. He thought his chest stuttered when you grabbed his hand and asked if you could sit with him since he’d remember the most about the original case, and you’d need his big brain for the little game he had planned. 

Spencer agreed, instead of trying to make it clear what he’d meant by his original question, because he hated disappointing people and the other girls seemed just as thrilled to go see the movie as you were. It wasn’t until Morgan slapped him on the back with a chuckle, having watched the whole thing from his own desk that Spencer felt truly dumb. 

“You’re going to have to try better than that, pretty boy,” He exclaimed, and Spencer bit his lip in thought, “Try asking her to do something in a way that leaves no room for confusion, girls like it when you’re direct,” 

And he nodded vehemently, because dating advice from Morgan was usually sound and bulletproof, how else would would he have garnered the ladies man reputation?

Direct, he could be direct. Sure, Spencer could be direct. 

He swallowed heavily just thinking about it. 

–

“These are for you,” Spencer jumped in before you could get sidetracked by chatting his ear off about the squirrel you’d nearly ran over on your way to work, and your expression flitted into surprise. 

He handed you the big bunch of pink roses and baby’s breath, and your mouth cracked into a smile immediately. “Oh, Spencer, these are beautiful, you shouldn’t have. My birthday’s not for another week,” 

“And I booked us a table at that Thai place on your block that you always get- wait birthday?” Spencer stumbled over his script, the words he’d been practising all morning coming to an effective halt as he realised once again his intentions had flown right over your head. And yet before he could set his record straight, just like you had last time, you’d jumped at the chance of spending time with him without understand just what you were agreeing to. 

“I love Thai food, that’s so thoughtful of you, Spence,” You said, hopping up out of your chair to give him a bear hug around his lithe waist, the flowers still tightly in the palm of your hand. He reciprocated, even if his expression was a terrible mix of frustration and confusion. 

It was like someone had cast some sort of spell over his words so that he’d never be able to ask you out on a date, like he was trying to speak in a dream, the words never really coming out. You weren’t dumb, not by any means, you could be a little naive sometimes, but never cruel. Spencer had no idea what the answer was. He guessed he was right back at square one.

–

“I don’t know man, I tried asking her to the movies, she thought it was a group thing. I tried taking her out for dinner, she thought it was for her birthday, I even asked if she wanted to come over to mine and she thought I meant a sleepover. What’s romantic about pillow forts?” Spencer sighed, leaning his head into his palm as he watched you swan around the office without a single inkling of his affections, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had fun at every one of them, but I just want there to be more. Maybe she just doesn’t feel the same,” 

“Don’t lose hope, pretty boy,” Derek comforted, the seemingly appointed love Guru that had had to witness two weeks of Spencer’s advances get sidelined. He followed Reid’s gaze to where you hummed a song to yourself as you collected files from Emily’s desk to take them over to your own. He bit his lip in thought, “I don’t think it’s personal, honest, I don’t think she means anything by it. You just need to be clearer,” 

“Clearer?” Spencer said with raised brows, using a single prod of his converse to swivel himself around to face you, and your expression perked into a smile just from seeing him. Derek watched the two of you closely, his theory all but game set and match as you seemed genuinely excited to see their resident genius who was convinced there was nothing there, “That shirt is really cute on you. It makes your eyes look really pretty,” Spencer said, in his most direct tone possible, because the nervousness seemed to dissipate when he knew you wouldn’t pick up on his intentions. The only sign you’d heard him at all was the way your fingers ruffled his hair affectionately. 

“Aw, thank you, Spencer,” You said, a little bounce in your step as you passed his desk to your own, running a gentle hand over his arm, where his blue striped shirt bunched around his biceps, “I like your purple one the best, but this one’s quite handsome too,” You replied, grabbing the other wad of papers from your drawer without much of a reaction and heading up the stairs to Hotch’s office, and he turned back to Morgan, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

Morgan laughed, shaking his head and yanking his cup of coffee towards him, “She’ll figure it out some day, lover boy. I give it a month, tops,” 

And Spencer huffed, wheeling himself back to his desk, his eyes naturally trailing up to the large window that divided them from Hotch’s personal space, the two of you discussing something jovially as if you were none the wiser to his internal predicament. 

He made a note to wear his purple shirt more often.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. the first years find old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from 2005/6.

wc. 2.7k

tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, set in the present and past, fluff

next part / series masterlist

"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.

"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.

"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri. 

she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover." 

“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.

“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”

yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”

megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”

“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour. 

megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.

“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.

“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.

nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.

yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.

"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.

before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.

"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.

"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”

there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.

“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.

yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?” 

“sort of,” megumi shrugged.

“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.

“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”

instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.

the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.” 

the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some. 

nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.

the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.

shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"

gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.

“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”

shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance. 

"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”

yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.

initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”

“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”

“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.

“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.

megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.

you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.

“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.

there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”

you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too. 

he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.

“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.

it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.

“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.

megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.

“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.

“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.

“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”

you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”

“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”

“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”

you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.

shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”

the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.

“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.

“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.

“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.

“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.

shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”

geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.

just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.

geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”

“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended. 

nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.

you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train. 

“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder. 

quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.

“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.

gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.

“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.

the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”

geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."

a/n. will there be subsequent parts to this? yes most definitely. this is not proofread and very messy so if you made it the whole way ty and I hoped you enjoyed this <33333 this might be my most favourite thing to write so far

[deepestnightcolor]

Hear me out, the farmer's in need of a confidence boost and tries on some lingerie. Decides she should to get a second opinion and sends a pic to a friend, but accidentally sent the picture to her crush, Sam instead. Please tell what would happen next😋

ᴀ/ɴ: Here I am! Thank you so much for your time to request this. I hope you enjoy! I really thought this would be a shorter one, but I guess things escalated. Huh. Also kids, remember, you are beautiful the way you are and you all deserve a Sam in your life that will let you know that. Love you. ALSO I HAVE A NEW BANNER MADE BY @sashiavi WE THANK HER NICELY

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 4192 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: hints of sexting, masturbation, kissing, slobbering, pierced dick, some sort of mating press, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, dirty talk, more praise, lingerie

☾ ꜱɴᴀᴘꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ☽

Sam’s fingers were shaking as he stared at the screen, disbelief written over his facial features in all bold letters. His lower lip wobbled as his blue eyes flicked from one corner to the next, up and down, side to side, trying to hammer every single detail into his brain, trying to tuck it away safely and forever. >>does this look ok? Feeling too ugly for it ☹<< the text below read – and Sam simply couldn’t believe how someone could have been so fucking wrong.? You see, he wasn’t in disbelief over how you looked. Sam had always been very much aware of how fucking hot he found you, how attracted he was to you, and how beautiful you were. He just couldn’t believe you couldn’t see what he saw. Didn’t he see how nicely the soft-looking fabric accentuated your chest? Didn’t you fucking see how it hugged your body in a way that made him envious, wishing that it were his hands in place of the lingerie you had put on. Yoba, all these details would be haunting him on lonely nights, and he was there for it. Your skin just looked so soft and the pout you were wearing on your face- Sam’s cock decided to make itself known by bobbing in the confines of his pants, but Sam had to set a record straight. >>I think you see a different picture cause you look absolutely AMAZING like holy fucking shit I just wanna have this picture in my brain forever and ever.<< He pressed “send” before he could form a thought that wasn’t fuelled by his dick and the outrage of you thinking this wasn’t anything but gorgeous.

His blue eyes trailed back up to the picture, pierced tongue wetting his lips that had started to feel dry when a text bubble caught his attention. You were typing. And then you weren’t. And then you were again. Sam had promised himself to pay attention to that, but he found himself letting his eyes follow the promising trails of your gorgeous body, the curves it offered. Yoba, what he would have given to touch you. He had barely even noticed that his hand had slipped underneath the waistband of his pants, gripping the length of his cock with still shaky fingers. He just couldn’t help himself! Not with how sweet you looked for him! A shaky breath left Sam’s lips as he gripped his cock tighter, allowing his hand to trace up and down, tip of his tongue sticking out as he tried to pace himself.

The poor man almost flinched when your picture suddenly slid upwards, making room for a new text: >>Omy Sam I am so so so sorry, I meant to send this to a friend fuck I am so sorry, please forget this<< Sam’s lower lip wobbled as he scrolled to find the picture gone. Another shaky breath left him as he leaned against the wall behind him, eyes closing as he desperately tried to remember the image, but his imagination and memory just couldn’t keep up with your beauty. A low groan left him, dick throbbing in sheer disappointment at the lack of attention as the blond’s hand had stopped its affections, numbly resting upon his shaft. Sam had been allowed a glance of heaven, and now he had been dropped back on the cold, hard ground.

But there was something that bothered him more than this sweet carrot that had been dangled in front of him being gone.

>>ok so I know that this pic wasn’t meant for me n all and that you are prolly really embarrassed rn, but I really meant what I said. You don’t just look ok, you look absolutely amazing like holy fucking shit.<< Sam watched the text bubble appear, just to disappear moments later. And there it was again, indicating you were typing. And then you weren’t. The blond allowed the metal ball on his tongue to glide along the back of his teeth, before a sudden idea popped into his head. >>wait.<<

The blond scrambled to get up from his bed, struggling out of his baggy jeans and peeling himself out of his jacket. It wasn’t long before he stood in front of the mirror with nothing but his boxers, snapping a picture of himself pretty much shamelessly.

It wasn’t long before the picture appeared on your phone, followed by a simple message. >>See? Now we are even<< >>But if you want me to prove what I think is true…<< >>Or we will never mention this again if you prefer my lips will be sealed, pinky promise.<< >>FUCK you are hot tho!! Absolutely beautiful!! Please never think anything else…<<

Your cheeks were still red with hot embarrassment, your eyes stinging with tears that had been welling up, but Yoba, did Sam look good. And what an opportunity that was! You squished your thighs together, heart pounding from seeing your crush exposing himself like this – for you, nonetheless. If you put your phone away now, you could forget all about this. Pretend this never happened. Crush on Sam from afar-

>>Come over in five?<< >>Count me in, darling.<<

He couldn’t believe how fast his legs had found his pants again, and how quickly he was wearing that hoodie again. But here he was, completely dressed and flying out of the door like a bat from hell. He didn’t even hear his mother yelling after him to close the door, the only thing he heard was the pounding of his heart and the crunching of grovel beneath the soles of his shoes. When had he even put on shoes? He didn’t fucking know, but he DID know that he needed to be there – needed to show you what he saw when he looked at you.

 Yoba, he had been crushing on you for so long, and now here he was. Standing in front of your door, ready to prove you that you were more than just okay. To him, you were perfect.

“He-“ he started when you finally opened the door, but the word, albeit small, got stuck in his throat in a way that forced him to cough. He had expected you to open the door wearing something, at least a shirt, but no. You were standing there, wearing the same lingerie you had revealed on the picture. The sound of blood rushing through his ears stopped all of a sudden, instead he could feel his cock hardening yet again, Adam’s apple bobbing as you looked up at him through your lashes, arm loosely covering your stomach. “Hey,” you croaked, lower lip wobbling as you looked up at him. “That ba-“

This time you were the one being shut up abruptly, but not by your own admission. No, it was Sam’s eager lips finding yours in a passionate kiss, his hands holding on to your cheeks in a way that gave you no choice but to melt into it. “You,” Sam breathed against your lips, “are,” another kiss met your lips, a tongue sloppily tracing over them, allowing you to taste the metal pierced through it for just a brief moment, “so beautiful,” he whispered, not giving you the time to respond when his lips already pressed against yours again, his tongue finding its home in your mouth.

A small moan left your lips, your hands running through the blonde mess of hair, fingers catching some stray strands and wrapping around them to tug Sam closer, toward you, to feel him press against your skin. Oh Yoba, how right that felt, how it allowed the embarrassment from before to slowly wash away. Not completely, but you had a feeling that Sam would be more than willing to help you ease into this further and further until you could let yourself go.

“You wouldn’t believe,” the blonde started now, his soft lips brushing down your cheeks, kissing your jawline until they found their way to your neck, “how I fucking felt seeing that picture. Yoba, baby, you made me shake.” You could feel your skin beak out into goosebumps at his words – the thought of someone like you having an impact like that on someone as handsome as Sam? On someone you had been crushing on for Yoba knew how long? That was hard to grasp, out of your wildest dreams- As if Sam had sensed your thoughts drifting off, he slowly pulled away from you, letting his blue eyes drag down your body slowly. It was hard for you to resist the urge to cover yourself, but something that rested within the swirls of blue made you stay strong – you even puffed out your chest a little. “Fuck.”

Sam’s hands were quick to slip under your butt, pulling a squeak from your vocal cords as he picked you up with quite the ease. “Bedroom?” He asked, just barely pulling away from peppering your neck with kisses. Yoba, it was hard to focus like this, pressed up against him while his lips were finding spots on your neck that made your flesh break out in goosebumps. “Down the ha-hall, third door on the left,” you murmured, collecting all of your willpower to not just let yourself get lost in the feeling of soft lips pressing against your pulse point, trying your very hardest to not just thread your fingers through Sam’s fluffy hair like a desperate, mindless whore.

But when your back landed on the bed and when you saw Sam removing his hoodie in one swift movement, tossing it aside with a lack of care in favour of letting his eyes rake down your body again you knew you were over with. To be fair, however, Sam wasn’t holding up much better. The sight of you alone made his heart stutter and flutter in his chest, and he didn’t even want to mention the pre-cummy mess that his dick had drooled in his boxers. The small jingle of his belt buckle made your eyes drift downward, tongue running over your lower lip as you laid eyes upon the bulge still hidden behind the thick fabric of the man’s jeans. You barely even noticed that Sam had shimmied out of them, eyes focused on the wet spot on his boxers.  Could you really have been the sole reason for this?  “I have never seen anyone so beautiful,” Sam whispered, his calloused hands running up your shins oh so carefully and gently, the blond allowing himself some time before they settled on the inside of your thighs, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw you shudder. He urged your legs open with gentle pressure before falling on his knees in-between them, his fingers picking up their journey on your body. Slowly sliding up your thighs, enjoying the conjunction between your crotch and legs, drifting along your hips and up your sides. His breathing had already grown heavier, lower lip bitten to stop it from trembling as he drank you in like a man close to dying of thirst that had just found an ample oasis. You almost had to squirm under his gaze, under his light, considerate touch, but by Yoba, did it make you feel good. “Look at those tits…” His chest was heaving and falling quickly now – it took the poor man so much to hold back. His cock was throbbing in sync with his heart, achy tip leaking pre-cum like its life depended on it. And yet he held back, he wanted, no, needed you to know what he thought of you. How highly he thought of you. How much you took his breath away.

The blond leaned down as if he was bowing for prayer, his lips finding home on your body again by pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. The soft inhale coming from you made him smile again, and yet he stayed focused on the duty at hand. Slow kisses were pressed against your skin as he made his way upward, following along your lingerie when it came across his path. Lips met soft silk that kept your breasts hidden, but he didn’t mind. Quite the opposite – he decided to use the opportunity to let his tongue loll out, wet muscle dragging over the sweet fabric, tenderly wandering up your breast until it discovered your hardening nipple. His eyes drifted up to you again, giving you a soft smile and then he licked over your nipple, making your back arch off of the bed. “Look at you…,” he murmured, tongue drawing a small circle around the erect bud. Then he crossed the valley of your breasts with the same tender attention he had given to your chest, finding the other nipple to dote on it as well.

His hand didn’t remain resting, either. It started its journey again, but this time around it made its way down, locating the lacey waistband of your panties. When his eyes met yours again this time around, they were asking for silent permission. You barely could nod before you felt fingers dip down, calloused pads meeting wet folds, making Sam inhale sharply though his teeth. “Fuck, baby, holy fucking shit- you are so wet for me already? Shit.” Another sharp inhale followed the first, Sam’s long fingers gliding through your cunt, stopping just above your entrance and making their way back up.

The newfound attention had you writhe beneath Sam, not enough to have him slow you down, but enough to make him chuckle quietly against your tit. “That’s a good girl- hell, I didn’t think you could be any more breathtaking, but look atcha, look at your face, Yoba…I think I am in love.” His lower lip caught in-between his teeth again as his eyes fixed on your face, his fingers keeping up their teasing of your cunt, just so that he could keep seeing that expression resting on your face. Nose scrunched up, lower lip bitten, eyes flicking from his hand to his face, pretty lashes fluttering whenever you anticipated him to finally pay attention to your clit. “Sammmm,” you whispered, bucking up your hips when the pad of his pointer finger threatened to catch at your entrance again, “pleasssssssse-“ And how could he resist? You were wrapped up in lingerie, and you were the most gorgeous person on this planet and you said please-

“FUuuuuck,” Sam groaned when he felt your gummy walls suckle around his finger, eyes rolling back into his skull. If you were so greedy for a single finger already, how would you act about his cock? The thought alone made his penis twitch, the sticky fabric clinging to his head seemingly getting wetter by the second. The squelching noises that he coaxed out of your cunt with every thrust of his fingers were hot, but they were no match to your moans. They were fucking angelic, and he slurped and drank them up like his life depended on it. How could one human being be so entirely perfect and not fucking see it? It left Sam speechless, made his heart soar with something short of helplessness. He needed to show you. Show you how he saw you.

The kisses he planted all over you were wet and almost desperate, a second finger joing th one snuggly pressed up in your cunt. “My pretty girl,” he rambled, kissing your chest, your stomach, your collar bones, his fingers curling and pushing, poor boy slowly becoming frantic to coax these sounds out of you, to make you feel what he felt. “Pretty, pretty girl.”

His fingers were long, pushing and prodding at spots that made your world twirl. The sweet words being whispered at you didn’t help you trying to find your footing or the ability to speak, quite the opposite. The only thing that left your mouth were moans, body much too focused on chasing the source of pleasure, overwhelmed by where to start. The places where his lips fired up your already burning skin? Or should you have rather chased his fingers with your hips whenever they dared to pull out? Your body short handedly decided to react to all of it, squirming and bucking, arching and squeezing, tugging at hair as you moaned Sam’s name with a certain urgency. “Sam, please-“ “Please what, baby?” He breathed, his own breathing laboured as he licked a fat stripe up your cleavage, up your throat, pressing a needy little kiss to your lips. “Dick- I need your fuckin’ dick-“

You didn’t have to tell Sam twice. He had promised himself to keep it slow, but holy fucking shit. He was hard and he needed you or he was pretty sure he would die. “You sure?” He asked, already fumbling with the waistband of your boxers, heart taking a relieved leap the moment he saw you nod. His dick seemed more than ready to be released, the small wet smack as it hit your stomach only a small testimony of the fact. Sam was panting still as he looked down at you, allowed his eyes to really take you in once more. You didn’t look as untouched as you had before, slobber and hickeys, reddening bitemarks and flushed skin proving him that this wasn’t a dream, that he was really here. He finally allowed himself to slide his fingers out of you, greedy man not even hesitating before they had been slipped into his mouth, throat bobbing and jumping as he suckled them clean with small moans around them. It made your thighs twitch to see him like this, seemingly greedy for you in a way that no man before had been. “You really are perfect,” Sam spoke around his fingers, the wet digits resting on your thigh just moments later.

The blond looked down at you affectionately, small hiss leaving him when he wrapped his fingers around his hard dick, allowing the messy head to slide up and down through your wet folds, hypnotized by the wet sounds such a simple action elicited. Yoba, he had come in here with a crush, and he would leave with you imprinted on his heart and soul – and, to be fair and less romantic, on his dick. “Fuck, Sam, pleaaaase, just fuck me,” you whined again, making him swallow thickly. You really were something, weren’t you? And Yoba, how it melted him. How it melted his heart that you had grown comfortable. No hand covering you up anymore, instead one had found refugee holding on his hair, the other digging into the sheets beneath you. And that was how it should be. How you should feel. Confident to show yourself.

The grind meeting his cock made Sam groan lowly, small chuckle leaving his lips. “Growing impatient, are we?” To be fair, he was, too. So it didn’t come as a surprise that he couldn’t hold back any longer and let the head of his dick finally was lined up with your pretty cunt, Sam’s hips slowly pushing forward.

You gasped for air as you felt him slowly enter you, pushing you open with the thick girth of his dick. Your head fell back into the pillow, hair splayed out around you like a fallen halo. Did you fucking know what you did to Sam? Did you know how down bad you had him for him? Did you fucking know? Because he needed you to. Desperately so. He knew the moment he bottomed out inside of you, the moment he heard that loud, quivering moan – he wouldn’t leave until you would chant about how angelic you were.

“Tell me what you are,” Sam murmured, slowly pulling back your hips. Your eyes met his, orbs clouded with the pleasure of being speared on his dick, and even though his brain was fried enough to be ready to hump into you like a bitch in heat, he could still make out a hint of confusion. “Tell me what you are,” Sam repeated, pushing forward again, taking in how your tits jiggled, how your back arched and how your eyes closed in bliss. “I-I don- aaaah, fuck, Sam!” you gasped, the next thrust making you decide thinking definitely wasn’t worth it. But the blond had other plans. “You,” he began, thrusting forward a little harder, “are,” he hissed with a smack of his hips, “gorgeous,” he almost barked, making your eyes widen, lower lip trembling as you looked in the blue eyes of a man that was serious. “I am-“ There was no chance to finish your sentence, because something had snapped within Sam. His hips began to piston forward, dick drilling inside of your pussy as if he tried to fuck the words he had spoken inside of you. If you had planned on speaking the idea was discarded by now, low moans of Sam’s name leaving your mouth instead, shaky fingers raking down his back to leave some marks of your own. “Fucking beautiful,” Sam repeated between strained huffs, humping at you desperately, “can’t—fuck, your pussy is fucking amazin’, baby—I can’t, fuckshit, I can’t believe you aren’t seein’ this, baby, oohhh Yoba.” The squelching of your cunt was met with the aggressive smacking of the man’s balls as he pounded your cunt, one of his hands finally finding yours to intertwine your fingers. You let it happen, breathlessly moaning Sam’s name as you felt his tip kiss your cervix, forcing your eyes to roll back into your skull. His pierced tip bumped against your walls, your toes curling for him as you squeezed his hand. This wasn’t how you had expected your day to go – but you weren’t complaining. No, because every time you opened your eyes you were met with two pools of blue, clouded over with lust and oh so pussy-drunk, and yet you still always managed to make out the adoration, the earnest and even through a thin veil of tears that had slowly begun forming in your eyes you still knew neither would leave, because Sam’s thrusts made you feel it all.

The bed was creaking in protest to the way your bodies were intertwined, but neither of you could have cared less. Not with how good the both of you felt, not with the much more important things you had at hand. Sam was pretty sure he was on the brink of crying himself – your cunt clenched around him in a way that allowed him to feel every single of your twitches, even the slightest spasm, and he could feel your pussy trying to suck him back in whenever he pulled out just to impale you on his dick again. Your hands were still locked together, and you were sure you would never want to let go, not with how good Sam made you feel. But there it was, that coil in your stomach. Twisting and turning, growing with every damn thrust, with every bump of that smooth piercing against your walls, with every moan that tumbled from your lover’s lips. It became apparent that you wouldn’t last much longer, and given the look on Sam’s face, he wouldn’t either. You allowed your eyes to slip shut, feeling those lips all over your body again. Teeth biting and nibbling your skin, hot breath kissing sweaty skin. A sudden push against your leg forced you into a new position, low moan searing from your throat as you could feel Sam deeper, his thrusts becoming harder, more frantic, desperate, just like how you were feeling. You were teetering on the edge, breath hitching, eyes rolling, your back arching. “That’s it, baby, that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, cum for me, baby, I can feel you clenching! I know you can, come on, pretty, come on, beautiful girl, cum over my cock, drench me- thaaaaaaat’s iiiiit,” Sam rambled, low laughed groan leaving his lips as he felt your little cunt spasming, your hips bucking and squirming as your orgasm took you. He was so close to bursting himself, thrusts becoming sloppy as he tried his very best to keep it up to take you through your high, but when he saw that look in your eyes, it was over with him. Thick spurts of cum painted your walls white, his cock throbbing against the clench of your walls, the whimper that left Sam high in pitch and pathetic in tone. His quick thrusts had become pathetic little humps, the blond completely whipped by the way your pussy was milking him. He couldn’t let his hips still just yet, needed to keep fucking forward, needed you to feel every inch of his twitchy dick, and you took it. Took it so well with your little twitches and bucks until he finally stilled to a halt.

The room had suddenly become pretty silent aside from heavy panting and the mild rustling of sheets. That was until Sam spoke up again. “Tell me what you are,” he forced between quick breaths, pressing gentle kisses to your face, kisses that silently told you how good you were, how proud he was of you. You smiled blissfully, because this time, you had an answer. “I am beautiful.”

[radio-fmm]

Heart’s Duty pt.3

Prince!Sanji x Knight!reader

or... Ok but Prince!Sanji not aware that his knight is in fact a woman?

@queen-of-elves

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

You never imagined a life after being a knight. Always thought you’d die on the battlefield, or protecting the crown

You’d pictured it, bowing out heroically, sword  in hand and relief knowing you had taken care of your family, dying with a purpose.

“Well shit” —you carrying all your belongings trough the castle’s entrance was not part of that picture 

Anxiety washes over you at the harsh realization that your old life awaits you, unchanged. It isn’t even clear to you if you’ll even walk into your home again, running away sounded more viable than having to build a sad explanation for you arriving in the middle of the busy morning.

You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to the prince… another sharp feeling hits you, this one’s different, almost regretful as you imagine Sanji without you. Who would stand up for him? Who would take him on his walks or test taste his amazing culinary creations?… who would be there for him like you always had, hell, who would be there for you?

You shake your head as you try and dissolve the feeling, you can’t think of the prince that way! He is destined to marry royalty and you? You were below no one. You were a coward that was running away from the consequences of her actions.

On the bright side, this was better than whatever hell was awaiting you inside that castle, and best believe hell was breaking loose.

Every server that has been lucky enough to tend to Prince Sanji would describe him as kind, caring and generous. But right now he was unrecognizable

Not in all his years has Sanji ever thrown a tantrum, so looking at a man from his status breaking furniture and cursing at every soul crossing his path was odd… and frightening 

Marshal Zoro stands beside the room’s door, speechless as the prince unleashes his frustration, every curse on the book and some more being screamed into the thin walls, redness of frustration blooming on his skin

“Your highness, you need to calm down-“ Sanji’s breath was loud, it echoed through the room as he tried to find some semblance of control. He probably scared you off didn’t he? Dammit he should’ve been more careful with his words… what if he made you uncomfortable? Oh gods he wishes he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to live with himself 

Marshal Zoro’s voice rings in his ears, he didn’t care to explain the situation to anyone he just knew he needed to find you, the thought of you walking alone around the kingdom’s streets without a thing to your name made him shiver, he should’ve known better 

Every second spend spiraling is a chance to find you lost. He fixes his posture, standing tall with determination, his mind clears. He makes a bee line to the door, long strides across the room before a bulky hand makes him halt

“Your highness, you know we can’t allow you stepping outside the castle unprompted” Zoro´s tone would make anyone stop on their tracks, but not today, not when you are at stake

“You are dismissed” theres a finality on the prince’s demand, and certain haste that confuses Zoro further 

Of course he doesn’t move an inch, eyes set straight forward while a silence settles uncomfortably

“I won’t repeat myself”

Something between Zoro wanted to answer that he in fact doesn’t follow his orders, he follows the king’s, but a glance at the prince’s eyes, and at the situation at hand makes him settle for another answer- “It would be better for our benefit if your highness shares whatever the trouble is rather than run away like a headless chicken” Underneath his condescence was genuine curiosity, Sanji battles with himself before he settles for backing away. For the record Sanji could tell the marshal what went down and the dangers that may ensue if he decides to stay, but he doesn’t, because he would never invade a lady’s privacy, ever

“Fine, I’ll stay”

Or did he?,

You see Sanji was no fool, he knew that Marshal Zoro was an important asset to his father, his position demanding long hours of work and dedication that would eventually draw him away for the task (him) that he was currently stuck in, so, ever the patient man, awaits the inevitable call from the squire to act his scape rather swiftly. Between change of positions between the marshal and whatever stupid knight assigned him was, Sanji scurries away unnoticed trough the castle’s window, even if it ended in him falling rather ungracefully on a rose bush. 

Without missing any more time, he dodges guards and housekeepers with a practiced ease that you had mastered with the prince on the many times you allowed him to step outside the castle without permission, he finally makes it to the door. 

The streets are bustling with vendors, eager shoppers and late breakfast, a warmth would usually fuel the prince at such display of his people enjoying their days, but right now he can only think of you. With nothing but the memory of your face he hopes to find you safe and sound, open to listen to his hearts desires  and ready to comeback to the castle where he can enjoy your company once again. He mingles between the people but it doesn’t take long for people’s head s to turn and whispers to fall behind his step. As he made a halt in front of a fruit stand to just politely ask the lady if he had seen someone with your description, someone’s shoulders makes him loose balance

“Well what do we have here!-” 

Shit

“-what have we done to deserve the presence of our majesty?!” The bustle of the people quiets, and Sanji feels the spotlight blind his eyes, 3 men circle him, clearly bad intentions written all over them, he should’ve planned this through…

“Please!-“ he picks up his voice so that the people around can hear ”-don’t mind me, continue with your day!”

“Are you deaf? am I not deserving of your attention?” The same man that bumped into him strides forward, menacing as he tries to clearly break a fight; the prince remains calm, clearly not wanting a commotion that could draw the attention of the kingdoms patrol that could retrieve him back, not when he hadn’t even got a lead to your whereabouts. He steps backwards thinking of a response that could simmer the anger being directed his way but tumbles with another man behind him, cornering him immediately without a window to run.

Shit 

Before the man can even lay a hand on the prince, a sharp sword flashes before his eyes and stops the pocket knife that he clearly had no clue the man had uncovered

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” the sweet voice that reaches Sanji’s ears make him turn surely giving him whiplash

It’s you 

Masterlist

[sleepynoons]

nagumo yoichi x gn!reader, sfw, not beta read

cw: slight suggestive content, explicit language

notes: wait if you catch several typos/grammar mistakes, that's not on me, that's on ellipsus for constantly glitching out today and preventing me from making edits. this is a drabble, too, and i don't proofread those oops. anyway, i thought it'd be funny if nagumo also got into a relationship the same way sakamoto and aoi got together. i also think it's hilarious that the npcs in this series don't give a fuck lol. nagumo also comes off as weird af at first LMAO wait this was kinda meant to satisfy my belief that nagumo has a sleeper build iykwim - wait i'm realizing there are several references + tidbits in this piece so it'd be funny if y'all catch anything hehe

"WELCOME!"

greeting customers is arguably the least rewarding thing about your job. most people who walk in ignore you, some even look annoyed, and you hate public speaking in the first place. you think you lose five minutes of your life every single time you raise your voice, and those five minutes have probably accumulated to years by now.

you sigh. it can't be helped. another part-timer recently quit, and you can't possibly let the manager of this convenience store, an elderly man in his 60s, take on additional night shifts when he's already handling the early mornings.

besides, there are some pros. since the store is located near a university and a residential area, there are familiar faces. there's a group of computer science students that often drop by, and they play the occasional harmless prank on you. there's also that mother-daughter pair that buys frozen taiyakis every saturday as a reward for the daughter for finishing her weekly violin lesson. and perhaps the most intriguing of them all is a man that pops by every three days around midnight.

he wears the same tan trench coat, along with a loose patterned button-up and black pants. before winter set in, he always went straight to the freezer to fish out a popsicle, bar already in his mouth as he walked over to pay, but in the past two weeks, he's been opting for a cup of hot coffee and small packets of candy instead.

it seems he's craving sour gummies today. with a swift swipe of your arm, you grab and scan the barcode on the back of the plastic bag, and type in the amount for his drink.

"your total's ¥600."

"no discounts for your most loyal customer?"

startled, you freeze, determined to avoid eye contact. you've had conversations with other customers before, but never with him. he's always left as quickly as he came, so you're caught off-guard by this unexpected interaction.

"u-uh, not this time, sorry. i can ask the manager if we have a loyalty program, if you want."

the man hums as he nods happily and hands you two ¥500 coins. his unbothered smile unnerves you a bit, so you count the difference and return the loose change in personal record time.

but he doesn't leave, and instead, asks, "any thoughts on getting hitched?"

your spit-take's almost comical, but the absurdity of the situation takes precedent. "w-what now?"

"one of my co-workers recently got married to a convenience store worker, so i'd thought i'd give it a try, too!"

you're practically shaking from how anxious and overwhelmed this person's making you feel. it doesn't help that he's clearly not disturbed at all, which almost makes you doubt your own ethics and gut instincts. but, the more you think about it, the more you're sure there's something wrong with this man and not you.

"i-i, uh, well, i'm not interested in-in getting married right now."

"oh, that's a shame! guess i'll try again tomorrow!”

–

you wake up with a jolt, almost knocking the crown of your head into nagumo's chin. though, of course, there's no actual need to worry about that.

"hm, what's wrong?"

with a workbook on bayesian statistics in one hand, a pen resting on his ear, and his other arm folded behind his head, he looks down at you curiously. despite having just woken up, your head's never been clearer, and you sit up between his legs before looking behind your shoulder and shooting a glare at him.

you ask, "can i punch your face?"

nagumo laughs, probably already imagining your futile attempts. "sure! but can i ask why?"

"i dreamt about our first conversation, and it reminded me that you're kinda fucked up."

your boyfriend chuckles more, amused by your moral qualms. "you could say that."

the thought that your relationship is weird has never left you. you're (still) a simple convenience store cashier, and nagumo gets filthy rich by murdering people. you were never that interested in the world around you, having been too busy paying back student loans and applying to other jobs throughout your early adolescent years to care about other things, so when he told you about the JAA and the establishment of the assassin industry as a whole, you were shocked. but that's always as far down into the rabbit hole as you let yourself go.

from this view, with nagumo spread out before you, he doesn't look dangerous at all. if anything, he resembles a nerdy graduate student, thanks to his obvious passions for mathematics and reading. moreover, his short-sleeved t-shirt exposes his tattoo-riddled arms, and the bottom of it has ridden up, giving you a pleasurable view of his hip bones and happy trail. in fact, when the two of you got into bed together for the first time (don't ask how he succeeded in seducing you), you were surprised by his physique. his outside clothes certainly don't do his abs or biceps justice.

anyway, the point is, he looks like your fantasy of a dreamy, hot, geeky boyfriend, not your local professional hitman-for-hire.

you sigh. you're not going to punch his stupidly attractive face. you lie back down onto his chest, burrowing your nose into the crook of his neck. you do let yourself get away with a pinch to his cheek.

then, you mutter, "don't hurt me."

"i won't," he chirps.

nagumo presses the knuckles of his free hand into the knots around your shoulder blades and flips his book back open.

he knows you mean more than in the literal sense.

[fumiscripts]

✦ HER LIPS ARE LIKE THE GALAXY'S EDGE

✦ a warm-toned record of Arabella with three stickers for Michael Kaiser!

for:: @merlucide! thank you for participating in this event!

additional:: fem reader, swearing, Ness gets mentioned once, whipped but in denial Kaiser, astrology stereotype jokes, bantering

event post . masterlist

song link bc it won't link right through here

Kaiser can't look away from you. And he dies a little inside for being so pathetic around you. For admiring you this much. It's cringy, but he's completely whipped.

You catch him staring at you, the eye contact unawkward, fortunately, because of the uncountable times you've held it before. Kaiser assures himself that he's not that much of a loser over you, as he knows you held the same affection he did for you— whenever you need shelter from reality, you come to him, after all— not that he's that much into you. He's not head over heels. Totally not. Him? Michael Kaiser? Wrapped around someone's finger? Psh, ridiculous–

“–you’re starin’ too hard, Micha,” you tease, sitting up straight on the car seat. You hum, deciding to fiddle with the radio on it, switching stations. Kaiser felt like you would tease him more, but then again, you were an unpredictable variable when it came to these. He liked how it kept him on his toes.

You're magnetic, pulling him in like a black hole, lost in your presence. Even when you were just sitting on the passenger side, leather jacket and boots with a 70’s vibe. The sun sets behind you, and you look otherworldly— like an explosion of colors from outer space. Breathtaking. Picturesque.

You made dawn look better. The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes as you.

“Tch. It's ‘cause your hair is different today,” he excuses. And for good measure, he reaches out, taking a strand, curling it around his finger, before tugging playfully. “Did you use a different product or something? Whatever those tubes and bottles you fill our bathroom with,” he added, planning to go with what he made up to distract you from teasing him.

A quirk of an eyebrow, before he heard you scoff. You leaned back on the seat, crossing your arms. “Lame ass excuse. There's nothing different with my hair today,” you retort, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. Kaiser smirked, hand leaving your hair to find entertainment with poking your cheek instead. You dragged up the soda you bought on the way here.

“Looks different to me, though,” he insisted, blue eyes trailing down to the way you took a sip. He wished he was the bottle instead, to have his lips against yours in the place of the glass— before he realized what he was thinking, moving onto a quick topic change. He tore his hand away, grinning. “Anyway. Today at practice, Ness was being clingy as usual. And then we–”

“Why are you talking about Ness?”

“– hush, liebling. Anyway, we were doing practice matches, and this guy with chopped bangs tried to–”

“Oh my god, what is it with you capricorns and being workaholics?”

Kaiser frowned, making a dramatic effort to roll his eyes with more grandiose than necessary. You're being real cute. “Are you getting a kick out of cutting me off?” he huffs. “And Capricorn stereotypes? Seriously? I thought you were done with these astronomy signs, zodiac shit. We weren't even talking about that.”

“First of all it's astrology,” you start, pulling out with the ‘erm actually’. Typical, Kaiser thinks, catching himself yet again staring at your eyes and then down. Your lips look like the galaxy's edge. “Second, I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine after diverting the conversation from the fact you were staring at me. So lovingly, too. Like how one would admire the stars.”

“Touche.” he sighed, dropping the excuse a little too easily for someone his character. He'd rather fail a goal than admit that it was because he can't find himself putting too much of a fight with you, though. Instead, he'll just turn the situation around another way, by shamelessly flirting with you. As best as he could. “So what? Can't I stare at my girlfriend lovingly?”

That made you chuckle. “Stop making me want to kiss you,” you reply, and Kaiser thinks you might've put a spell on him, with how you make his heart beat faster so quickly. Yeah, this must be witchcraft.

“Yeah?” he smirked, cocky, yet the red hue adorning his cheeks might as well give away how he was feeling inside. “Do it,” he shifts closer, the leather of the car seat squeaking as he does, but all his attention is on you, and mind set on the thought that he might've been extremely lucky to have you. With all your unpredictability and beyond that, a side he's proud that he's the only one was able to see.

“Was that a dare?” you tilt your head. “You’re so needy,” you jabbed as a last act of being a hundred percent nonchalant. Still, you gave in. How could you not when he looked a little more expectant than taunting? So you kiss him, and Kaiser thinks it's like the colors of a constellation falling into place.

Can't be sure, but he just might've tapped into your mind and soul.

© fumiscripts 2024-2025. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[supercap2319]

Peter Parker sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, the cool night air brushing against his skin as he adjusted the straps of his suit. He’d just finished a late patrol, and his mind was still buzzing. Something had felt different lately—something he couldn’t quite place. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a text from

MJ: “Good night, love. Miss you. :)”

Peter's heart clenched with guilt. Last night, instead of being alone with Michelle, he had been with Dominik Maximoff, brother of Wanda and Pietro, in a night of passion and lust in the shower. Peter bit his lips as he headed towards Avengers' Tower to set the record straight with Dominik. 'I can’t be with him. I won’t. I love MJ.' Peter told himself. Peter swung to Avengers tower towards Dominik's window.

Spiderman landed silently on the windowsill of Dominik's room, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on the glass. The room was dark, but he could hear movement from inside. After a moment, the curtains parted, and Dominik's face appeared, sleepy but alert. "Peter? What's wrong?"

Peter's expression was serious, his eyes searching Dominik's. "Can I come in?" He asked, climbing through the window without waiting for a response. He stood in the middle of the room, his body tense. "Dominik, we need to talk."

"About what?" Dominik asked, sitting on the bed.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair nervously, unable to meet Dominik's gaze directly. "About last night," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happened between us... it can't happen again." He took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists."The kissing, the... everything." Peter said firmly, his voice gaining strength. "Dominik, I need you to look at me." He waited until Dominik met his gaze before continuing, "I'm in a relationship with MJ. And no matter what happens between us, I don't..."

"You don't feel the same way." Dominik finished for Peter.

"No, I don't..." Peter said softly, his eyes dropping to the floor again. "I care about you so much. But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to MJ." He took another step forward, pleading with his eyes. For the first time since they'd known each other, Peter couldn't look at Dominik. He felt the weight of his words - words he never wanted to say. "I love MJ."

"Then you need to do what's right. Because I would do the same thing if I could." Dominik said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter asked, his voice rising. He was starting to get frustrated. He needed Dominik to understand, to get angry, to yell at him. Anything but this calm acceptance. "You're just going to let me walk all over you?"

"What do you want me to do, Peter? Use my powers and make you love me?" Dominik raised a glowing red finger for emphasis.

"I would rather you punch me in the face than look at me like that." Peter snapped, his anger finally boiling over. "You're making this too easy! You're supposed to be fighting me, yelling at me, not sitting there like a... like a..."

"A bitch? A doormat?"

"Yes!" Peter said. "I want you to fight me, Dominik. Tell me how much this fucking hurts." His voice cracked. "Tell me I'm an asshole."

"You are an asshole. And I hope MJ dumps your ass." Dominik said. "You can go now." Dominik waved a hand, and suddenly Peter was back in his room in his apartment. His knees buckle, and he collapses onto his bed, feeling completely drained and empty. Peter whole body shakes with sobs, his heart physically hurting. He buries his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I fucked up."

A few weeks went by, and Peter tried to get back to have things used to be before he slept with Dominik. But everything felt... hollow. He went through the motions of being Spiderman and spent time with Ned and MJ, but his heart wasn't in it. He missed Dominik. Not just the physical aspects, but their conversations, their connection. Peter saw him sometimes. Dominik. He watched him from afar. Being a part of the Avengers. Practicing magic with Doctor Strange. Cosmic arm wrestling with Captain Marvel.

Every time Peter saw Dominik, his heart would ache. He'd watch him laugh with the others, his eyes sparkling, and Peter would feel a pang of jealousy. He missed being the one to make Dominik laugh, to see that spark in his eye. He missed him so much it physically hurt. One night, Peter was battling against Venom, but his head wasn't in the game, and Venom got the drop on him.

Venom's symbiote tendrils wrap around Peter, dragging him to the ground. He struggles, but his mind is clouded with thoughts of Dominik - his strength, his speed, how he'd never let himself get caught off guard like this. "You're weak, Spiderman." Venom said. Peter gasped as Venom had him spread out eagle style.

His heart races as Venom pins him down. "You're weak, Parker." Venom hisses. "Just like you were weak with that magical pretty boy. Couldn't keep him, could you?" Peter closes his eyes, memories of Dominik flashing through his mind. Suddenly, a blast of red magic hit Venom into a nearby wall on the building. Dominik was floating a few feet in the air, glowing with cosmic energy and chaos magic. "Get away from him."

Peter blinks in shock as Dominik appears, his eyes blazing with power and anger. He looks stunning and terrifying, and Peter's heart skips a beat. "Dominik."

"Spiderman." Dominik said, voice cold and unfeeling. "Want more, Venom?" Venom snarls, but it quickly submits, slinking back into the shadows. Peter watches in awe as Dominik hovers there, still glowing with magic. He looks incredible. "How did you know I was in trouble?" Peter asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I could sense you. Wanda and I have been practicing with Strange. and he taught me how to sense people."

Peter looks down, unable to meet Dominik's gaze. "I miss you," he admits quietly, then adds with a shy smile, "You look... intimidating. And amazing."

"Thanks, but I should be going." Dominik said.

"Wait!" Peter calls out, sitting up. "Where are you going? Back to the Avengers tower?" He gets in front of Dominik.

"Of course I am." Dominik said.

"Can we..." his voice cracking slightly. "Can we talk? Please? Not as heroes... just... as us." Peter removed his mask, running a hand through his hair nervously, hating how vulnerable he feels right now. "I swear, I've missed you every single day." Dominik scoffed. "I don't think so, Peter. You made your choice. Now you have to accept the consequences."

"Which is what? You ignoring me forever? Pretending like I never existed?" Peter's voice raises a little, frustration and hurt mixing together. "You're really going to act like a child and hold a grudge?"

"You started this, Peter. You should have never slept with me that night, knowing you were with MJ. Now, wallow in misery. I don't give a fuck." Peter watched Dominik fly off like a rocket into the night sky of New York.

[xxblairexxss]

Pick me up (Part 1)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne

“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.

The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.

“Hello…?”

“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.

“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.

You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.

You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.

“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.

You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”

“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”

“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”

He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.

“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.

“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.

“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”

“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.

“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.

“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.

“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”

“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.

[slaaverin]

What the heck is happening? Jikook been out two days and both are back to back apologizing. I kinda get Jk's apology, even tho he did nothing wrong, he wanted to set the record straight, but Jimin's posts after his and then deletion and I'm sorry makes no sense. He posted a bunch of I love yous and I miss you after Jk. Who knows, maybe to distract, but then to delete when nothing was wrong and just write simply a "I'm sorry" right behind Jk's I'm sorry post. I'll tell you what this reminds me of. Those times Jimin apologized on Jk's behalf. Like excuse my man and his toes socks on this live, I'm sorry. Excuse my man and his socks again on another live, I'm sorry. Turns and looks the Yoga instructor in the face and says I'm sorry when Jk was being hyper and chaotic. It's giving, if you're sorry, I'm sorry. Kinda like when a partner feels a sense of responsibility for their partners actions. Other than that, this just don't make sense. Jimin's post was completely harmless and would not need an I'm sorry, tipsy or not. Seems kinda sus back to back. Or maybe its not related and he drunk posted and got embarrassed, but with Jikook its hard to tell sometimes if its intentional.

Look I had the exact same thought but I shrugged it that maybe I was reading too much into it

But it feels like that, right? Apologizing also in the behalf of his boyfriend, accountability as a pair

Because he really didn't have to say sorry this much, even if he was drunk. His letter was cute and there was nothing wrong with it

He posted right after JK's apology

Maybe he felt sorry bcs the cap was about Tokyo, and we both know why JK wore it, so Jimin feels responsible too (when does he not feel responsible tho?)

There's also this thing of him not wanting JK to tarnish his image and worrying about it (if we follow the readings)

So perhaps this explains it

"I'll have to say sorry many times in the future" what does this mean? Why is he anticipating the times where he will say sorry? This is giving guilt about something he didn't even do yet 😵‍💫

But then maybe indeed we're reading too much into it, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

But this was my first thought too. Perhaps we are biased 😂 idk are we the only ones?

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part IV

Warnings: Violence, murder, Coriolanus being himself, his thoughts

Summary: Coriolanus is looking for you- but he is not the only one.

Words: 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: And we have reached the last part! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you like this miniseries. Also I finished the book and watched the movie again (and it was so freaking goood aaah)!!

If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)

There will be more Coriolanus Snow x reader COMING SOON!

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Part II | Part III | Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist! (so you don't miss anything) :)

Coriolanus stared at the bird, watching as it opened its mouth and your paniced voice came out.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!”

Behind him he heard movement, but he was too shellshocked to turn around. He didn‘t need to, he would have recognised that voice anywhere.

"The downfall of a Snow. If that isn‘t something I always wanted to-"

Before the commander could finish his sentence Coriolanus had turned and shot him in the head.

The loud noise startled the bird in its cage and it spread its wings, trying to lift in the air but failing in the closeted space. At least it was quiet now.

Good. If it would have made another sound, used your voice again, he would have wasted a bullet on it.

All of this had been a set-up. A test, to prove his loyality to the capitol. And he had failed. Spectacularly so.

He had chosen you. Your future. And in the same breath he had decided against his own.

Coriolanus was certain in no time more peacekeepers would show up. Perhaps he would know some of them. Maybe he even shared a room and his meals with them and he didn't want to kill him, if he could prevent it.

But if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

Even though he had never been in the arena, except the time when he had been sent to get Sejanus out, the capitol's games had turned him into a killer too. Or had that always been a part of him, one he had never known existed before?

A violent one, that didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done to save himself. It was scary, but to know his own power felt thrilling too. That if it came down to it he wouldn't just stand around and whine, but act and do what needed to be done, even if it involved getting his hands dirty.

It was true that a desperate man was a dangerous one, because what else did he have to lose? No, there was only you and he would do everything now to save the one thing he had left.

With one last dismissive glance at the dead commander Coriolanus turned and hurried through the corridors. He needed to find you.

Even if you weren't here and he was convinced they had used a recording of you from the arena, he wasn't naive enough to believe it meant you were safe. Unharmed.

What if the capitol had gotten to you?

Maybe you weren't in the district anymore.

Or worse, they had executed you at the hanging tree while they had ordered him here as a distraction.

Both thoughts scared him.

He needed a plan. He couldn't just walk around the district looking for you. Soon they would know what he had done and everyone in the district would be looking for his face.

Then he would end up at the hanging tree and die an undignified death.

But Coriolanus didn't have a better idea. He lacked ressources and power out here and with no ally in his corner he was left to his own.

Keeping his gaze straight ahead and his strides fast and purposeful, he immerged into the bustling streets of the district. He still had no idea where to find you and with each corner he rounded his hope to find you before the capitol did sank.

A turmoil at the market caught his attention and he hurried past the shops until the found a spot that allowed him a good view. A group of peacemakers pushed through the crowd of people, their faces grim and their weapons drawn.

They were searching, no, hunting. For him or for you Coriolanus didn't know.

He pressed himself against the wall when they neared him, lowering his head so they didn't get a glance of his face. "Hey!"

Damn it!

One of the men had noticed him and marched right towards him. Coriolanus was torn between waiting for what was about to happen and ending the man before he got the chance to out him to anyone, but he only had the gun and it would draw too much attention.

"We've got the order to look for the girl that won the games. Come on!"

Coriolanus let out a breath. The man didn't recongize him, not as her mentor and not as a traitor. Word about what he had done hadn't gotten around yet it seemed.

Or this was just another trap.

"What are we supposed to do when we find her?", he asked sternly as he followed the peacekeeper and joined the troop. It was dangerous, being so close to his enemies. If they turned on him now he would stand no chance against them. They outnumbered him.

But it was his best chance to keep an eye on them and it was not like he had a choice.

"For now arrest her. But I suppose she'll have a date with the hanging tree soon." The bastard laughed and Coriolanus wanted to punch him for it until the only sound coming out of his mouth were pleas for forgiveness.

He didn't bother to ask what crime they believed you were guilty of. It didn't matter and too many questions would raise suspicions.

So he followed them raiding the streets and asking shopkeepers and tradesmen about you, relieved about their lack of information regarding your whereabouts, but growing more uneasy with each.

Because with night beginning to set it became clear that they wouldn't stop their search until they had found you and with each minute that ticked by the chance of his actions staying undiscovered slimmed.

"We should seperate", he suggested after another unsuccessful house search. "We stick to the commander's order", the man next to him said and Coriolanus squinted at him in the darkness.

"When did he gave the order?", he asked warily and earned an impatient look. "At dinner time", he said with a shake of his head that openly questioned Corioanus' intelligence, who ignored it.

He was feeling dizzy and the world seemed strangely disorted as he grasped for composure. He had missed dinner time, because he had been ordered to speak to the commander. But if that hadn't been the commander, who had he killed?

"The hell", the man next to him whispered, pushing him roughly forward, "what's going on with you, man?!" Coriolanus had no time to answer.

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest as control was slipping from his fingers and he felt himself spirraling.

"I got her!"

A loud voice pulled him from his trance and his head snapped into the direction it came from, all air leaving him when he saw you in the grip of a peacemaker.

He had locked his hand around your upper arm and was yanking you roughly towards them. "Thought she could hide", he roared with a laugh and the others joined in.

Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to join. Not even for show.

He was staring at your fearful face, the uncertainity behind your eyes mixing with defiance. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but I didn't do anything", you stated and he noted with a hint of pride that your voice didn't waver.

That was his girl.

"Shut up or I'll make you!", the man growled and tightened his grip around you. Coriolanus could see the pain reflected on your face, but it gave way to shock and then disbelief as your gaze fell on him.

He couldn't do anything than stare at you, relieved to find you alive and unharmed after he had been witness to your desperate screams, but overwhelmed by his own powerlessness now.

Your eyes travelled his face and he saw a flicker of concern before it turned to an expression of betrayal and hurt.

He half expected an outlash, accusations or insults thrown his way, but you pressed your lips into a thin line, turning away your face. How easily you coud have hurt him now, but had chosen not to.

Interesting...

"Let's go!"

You were thrusted forward and he watched you stumble before you caught yourself again.

"I'll take her!" His own voice sounded far away and he was surprised that he had finally found it again. "We spend almost all night looking for her, I'll hande the rest."

The men exchanged glances. They were all tired, but bound by orders. Temptation fought hesitation and he prayed they would just let him have his way. He didn't want to kill them. It would be messy.

"Nice try, but I won't let you earn yourself all the praise."

With that they continued their way, but Coriolanus hadn't missed your attentive gaze on him. Maybe you finally understood the depths of his feelings.

That he would not let you walk to your own execution, even if all odds spoke against him. But what had he to loose?

Coriolanus waited until they passed another corner. It was late and the streets were empty, the people had gone to bed.

The poor electricty supply finally held an advantage, because there were no streetlamps to provide light and so not one of the other peacekepers noticed when he let his hand wander to his weapon, cautiously closing his fingers around it.

He had given them a chance, but they hadn't taken it.

The first two fell before the others had even noticed something was off. The shots were disturbingly loud in the quiet of the night and he knew he needed to act fast or he would be facing off against far more than just a troop of peacekeepers.

Would the men and women of the district be on his side? But what little could they do to help?

They stood no chance against their weapons, which could be fired more than a hundred times before they needed reloading.

It would be a bloodbath.

And he wasn't sure, if they wouldn't turn against him. In their eyes he was just a peacekeeper. It was all they would see when they looked at him.

As the other men turned he took out another one, but the man who held you in his grip swung you around, using your body as his shield before Coriolanus got the chance to aim his way.

"Lay down your weapon or I'll shoot her!", he yelled and raised his own weapon to press it against your temple.

You flinched, your eyes locked on Coriolanus. There was no fear in your eyes, only defeat and acceptance.

That only made it worse.

"The commander wants her alive. Now give her to me!", Coriolanus demanded, not even thinking about lowering his gun, but the man only narrowed his eyes in response.

"Traitor", he hissed, pressing your body closer to his, when your body suddenly went limp in his arms.

The moment the peacekeeper was distracted Coriolanus placed a bullet right between his eyebrows.

The shooting training had been useful at last.

Your eyes snapped open, confirming his assumption that you had faked the moment of weakness, and you staggered forward and away from the man who fell liveless to the ground.

Your gaze drifted over the dead peacekeepers and then to Coriolanus, shock and dread written all over your face.

"You killed them", you breathed, wavering once more. "You killed all of them."

Coriolanus stepped forward, his hands reaching out for yours. They were cold. Icy.

"I did what needed to be done", he said matter of factly, hiding his pride, because he knew you wouldn't appreicate it. But he had just taken out a number of well-trained men just by himself. Even you would have to admit it had been impressive.

In a shoot-out he wouldn't have stand a chance against them all, but they had underestimated him. Trusted him blindly. And they had paid for it.

You found his gaze, horror slowing fading into understanding. You nodded once, swallowing and straightening.

"I know", you whispered, "you saved my life."

All he wanted was to hold you and relish your skin on his. That he finally had you. That you were save. But there was no time for sentiment now.

"We need to leave."

You caught his gaze, your own questioning. "Where should we go? They will search the whole district for us and-", understanding crossed your face, "you mean you will run away with me?"

He took a breath and nodded. "It's the only choice."

You looked at him, your eyes searching for something he didn't know he could give you. But he could give you his love and devotion. It seemed enough for you, because you squeezed his hands and straightened your shoulders.

"Then it's my pleasure Coriolanus Snow."

"And it's mine."

You didn't let go of his hand as you turned and ran through the streets of the district and towards the line of trees.

Never would he have imagined this to be his fate as he had seen your face on the capitol's tv during the reaping. But he knew you would find a way, together.

Some day you might even tell your children about this. About a love that had ruined his life and rebuild it, stripped him bare and led him to his innermost, darkest parts.

And the birds lining the branches of the trees would be witness to it.

To your every word.

Tags:

PERMANENT

@capkilljoy @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa  @hallecarey1 @Not-jay-c @sunwardsss @writingrem-blog @the-pink-petite-princess @wanniiieeee @part-time-patronus @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad  @theshortegg @not-reptilian @msdrpreist @alisonhepps @hallecarey1  @thatfangirl42 @dustyinkpages @ellabellabus07 @iluvjj  @wayward-hunter  @sweet-texas-girl @rosie-posie08 @ @olsensnpm  @meyocoko  @alexxavicry @shhh423  @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jayyeahthatsme @savagemickey03  @alexxavicry @partiallypearl @earthtolottie  @gisobsessedwithfanfiction  @navs-bhat  @AlohaStitch_626 @multi-fandom-lover7667 @xcallmetaniax @esposadomd  @halsteadloversworld @girlintheredscarf  @randomwriter1021 @joyfulfxckery @crazylokonugget @star611 @anjamagra725-blog @queenofspades6 @alohastitch0626 @kkmikayla @savagemickey03 @guacam011y @k-illdarlings @taykorsyogurt @espressopatronum454 @ennycutie @burns-in-the-sun​ @upwritingallnight

Add yourself to my taglist!

[prettycalla]

|| another's treasure ||

Pairing: Michael/Reader

Summary: You used to play piano as a child. Michael finds a very specific gift for you.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags and warnings: Mostly fluff, established relationship, Michael is a bit odd but he means well, no use of Y/N.

(I dropped this hyper-specific little idea into the server I'm in, and after some encouragement, here it is! It's kind of a spin on something that happened to me as a kid and I managed to crack it out in a day. Hopefully it's okay! Also I still have a load of Emperors fics in progress!)

Masterlist

“Do you play any instruments?” you ask.

It’s a Saturday night, and the two of you are sitting in front of the TV, watching a music documentary. Michael’s long since given up on sitting up straight, now slumped into the cushions with his hands resting on his stomach and his legs spread out. You sit next to him, your legs resting on his thigh.

“Not unless you count Three Blind Mice on the recorder,” he says with a laugh. “What about you?”

“I used to play piano,” you tell him.

He turns his attention to you then. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. My neighbour used to give me lessons when I was a kid. She was a lovely older lady, always so kind to me," you say, a little smile on your face as the memory comes back to you. "She had the most beautiful old piano in her living room. I was always so afraid to touch it. Then we moved, so…”

You trail off awkwardly, a little pang in your heart. It had been so long since you'd last thought about it.

Michael places his hand on your leg, gently bringing you back to the present.

“D’you miss it?” he asks.

“Sometimes, yeah,” you reply. “I wasn’t very good, mind. But I enjoyed it.”

“Maybe we could pick one up cheap somewhere?” he suggests. “Not a proper piano, but like, a keyboard or something."

He points to the corner of the living room near the TV.

“You’ve been saying that bit of the room's too empty," he says. "Could put it there.”

You look at him, lip trembling slightly as you smile. You know neither of you have the money for something so frivolous right now, but it's the thought that has you feeling overwhelmed.

“What?” he asks, completely oblivious.

You shake your head. “Nothing. It’s, um…Yeah, sounds nice.”

A few weeks pass. Neither of you had said any more about it, and eventually you'd forgotten that you'd even mentioned it.

You're alone in the living room one night. Michael had gone out a few hours ago, saying he was going to "see a man about a dog". You never liked when he said that, because it meant he was up to something, and he wasn't going to tell you what it was.

You hear him before you see him. An awful scraping sound, followed by a lot of muffled cursing and shuffling. You assume it’s one of your neighbours on the landing outside and think no more of it.

Besides, you have more pressing matters at hand. The tape of your favourite cassette has been coming loose lately and you’ve been spending the better part of a half hour trying to carefully wind it all back in with a pencil.

Then comes an ungodly bang from outside your door and the tape flies out of your hand.

“Who the hell-“ you start to say, when you hear the letterbox open.

"Babe? You there?" Michael calls down the hallway.

"Yes!" you shout back.

“Can you get the door for me?” he asks.

You look down at the ruined cassette in your lap. You could kill him.

“It’s on the snib!” you answer, picking up the pencil again.

You can’t remember if it is, but you want him to suffer just a little for messing up your hard work.

“It’s not, it’s locked,” he replies. “I don’t think I have my key. Please open the door, I have a surprise for you.”

You hesitate. Knowing Michael, this will either be very good or truly awful. There’s never any in-between. His heart’s always in the right place, though.

With a sigh, you set the tape aside and make your way to the front door. Michael’s hand is still holding the letterbox open, his brown eyes looking up at you.

“Cheers, darlin’,” he calls. “Now listen, I need you to hold the door open for me, but don’t look, alright?”

“What have you dragged home now?” you ask as you reach for the lock.

He steps back, the letterbox clanging shut.

“I mean it, no looking," he insists through the door. "Eyes shut. Promise me.”

“Alright, alright, I promise," you say impatiently.

You turn the lock, pulling the heavy door back as far as it’ll go. Despite your better judgment, you do as he asked, holding the door open with your eyes closed.

Whatever it is, it’s big. Michael’s clearly struggling with it as he pushes it across the hall.

“D’you need a hand?” you ask.

“No!” he answers too quickly, his voice strained. “Just stay where you are. I’ll tell you when to move.”

A few more minutes of grunting and cursing and “Oh, come on, you stupid-" pass before the flat finally falls silent again. You hear Michael’s footsteps drawing closer to you.

“How long are you gonna make me stand here like this?” you ask with a nervous laugh.

Michael pulls the door gently from your grasp, shutting it before turning his attention back to you. He takes your hands in his.

“Not long, promise. Follow me,” he says, gently guiding you along with him.

“Can I open my eyes?” you ask, fearful of tripping over something.

“Not yet,” he replies. “Easy, watch yourself. You’re almost there…”

You couldn’t swing a cat in the hallway for all the size of it, and yet now it feels as though it goes on forever. Suddenly, Michael stops, and you bump into him. He lets go of your hands, his footsteps receding.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now," he says.

You squint slightly, your eyes adjusting to the light as you open them. Michael’s standing across the room, face flushed and hair a mess. His jeans are covered in dirt marks, his coat left in a heap on the floor.

“Well? What’d you think?” he asks expectantly with a smile.

You turn your attention to the large thing sitting next to him. Your eyes widen.

“Michael…” is all you can manage.

It's a piano.

You cross the room to take a better look at it, awestruck. It's an upright piano, the most beautiful colour of mahogany. The wood is cracked and damaged in some places, but not so much to take away from its charm. You lift the heavy lid. The keys are yellowed with age and a little dusty in places, and they're all still intact.

You press one of them down. Nothing happens.

You try another one. Nothing.

With a frown, you take a step back to look at it properly. Near the bottom are two large pedals, upholstered with red carpet that's worn and fraying in areas.

Then you realise. It's a reed organ.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, fingers sliding reverently across the keys.

How much did this cost? is what you want to ask.

“Found it,” is all Michael says.

You look at him, your expression full of doubt.

“You found this?” you ask. “Michael, it’s an organ. Who would just throw this away?”

He shrugs. “Chapel was doing a clear-out of some old stuff. I saw it while I was doing my rounds a couple days ago," he explains, "Bellows are busted on it, apparently, but it’s fine other than that. There was no way it was fitting in the lorry, so I asked them if they could hold onto it for me until I could go 'round and get it myself.”

Then it dawns on you.

“You dragged this the whole way from the chapel?” you ask. “Are you mental? That’s three streets over!”

He laughs, brushing his messy hair from his forehead with his hand. “Tell me about it. It was hardly gonna fit in a cab now, was it?”

He moves closer to you, his fingers lightly brushing yours where they still lay on the keys.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You look up at him.

“What d'you think?” he asks again, worry evident in his expression.

You look back at the worn old thing sitting in front of you that’s clearly seen better days.

“I know it’s not the best, but we can clean it up, get it working again," he says, as if he's trying to convince you. "I was gonna go down to the library tomorrow and see if I can get some books to help with fixing it.”

Michael’s hand rests over yours. You haven't moved, haven't spoken.

“Say something, darlin’, please,” he murmurs nervously. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

You shake your head. It's only then that you realise you've been crying.

“No…It’s…It’s perfect,” you manage to say in a choked whisper.

You turn your attention back to him. He still looks worried, dark eyes watching you carefully. You don't trust yourself to speak, instead throwing your arms around him and pulling him close. He almost loses his balance in the process and he laughs.

“Oi, give me some warning next time, will you?” he scolds, but his tone is affectionate as he wraps his arms around you tightly.

It takes a while before you're able to calm yourself, but Michael stays with you, gently running his hand up and down your back. Eventually, the wave of emotion settles and you pull back, your hands still gripping at the shoulders of his shirt.

"Probably should've given you a heads-up, ey?" he asks light-heartedly. "Didn't realise you'd go all wobbly on me."

You lightly slap at him, giving him a mock-frown in response.

"Wait here," he says suddenly as he rushes out of the room.

He returns with a dining chair, setting it in front of the organ. He gestures to you to sit.

"You said it was broken," you say as you sit. "And it's not gonna play like a piano."

"Yeah, but give it a go," he replies. "Let's see what the damage is."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "You'd better not mean my playing."

He folds his arms, waiting for you to start. You turn back to the keys, trying to remember where middle C is. You place your foot on one of the pedals, pressing down on both it and the key at the same time.

The organ lets out an awful sound like a ship's horn, startling you both. You sit there, frozen for a moment. Michael snorts, and you can't help yourself, you burst out laughing.

"I think it might be beyond help," you tell him with a smile, gently closing the lid over the keys again.

"Nah, you leave it to me," he replies.

He places his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Nothing that can't be sorted, yeah?" he murmurs close to your ear.

You reach up, bringing your hand to the back of his neck.

"Yeah," you reply fondly.

Whether or not it can be fixed, or if it just ends up as an interesting piece of furniture, it doesn't matter to you, not right now. Michael may have a different worldview from you at times, and you might not always see eye to eye on everything, but knowing that he went to so much trouble over something so small means so much to you, and that's what really matters.

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[transformers-spike]

I’ve been flipping through some ideas in my head and wanted your thoughts on it. One thing that through my head was how would some bots feel about their human getting down with another human, while they’re both inside them in their alt mode? Straight off the bat, I’m sure the general consensus is “absolutely not!” Or only with an exception where the other human has to be someone the bot also knows. But do you think that there’s any that would generally be into this as some sort of fetish, no exceptions needed? I guess the word here is cucking for sure lmao. For some reason, I feel like seeing their human interface someone else as a fetish is at a higher percentage if it’s with another bot instead of a human.

In the initial ask above, it was with the idea that the bot in question and human are in a relationship already. But what about other scenarios? Where they’re not in a relationship.

For the scenarios where there’s no relationship between the human and bot: ⬇️

Imagine this scenario where a human is interested in a specific bot and the feeling is mutual but both haven’t confessed their feelings. Now, let’s say the human makes out with another human against the bot they’re interested in, while said bot is in alt mode. Just to see what kind of reaction they can get out of them. They get all touchy and heated with the other human against the bot who’s still in alt mode. Would the bot be mad? Jealous? Or slightly turned on in a humiliating type of way?

In another scenario, it’s a bot that’s interested in a human. They haven’t confessed to the human. They’re walking down some secluded area and catch the human they’re interested in interfacing with another bot. To their surprise they feel turned on by it.

ohohoho I love this Personally, I tend to view Cybertronian romantic relationships as being pretty open. In most cultures, you can have multiple partners and still frag just about anyone Now add human culture into the mix and ohhhh boy. Now, if we focus on human monogamy, then I can see some bots being willing to adapt to it due to our short lifespans. But being a human and being with other partners as well? Ohhhh boy I'm trying to think who would be into humans interfacing inside of them off the top of my head... Knock Out would find it hot as long as you clean him up afterwards, and if you leave a permanent stain he will fucking kill you. Smokescreen would like to experience this too - except his engine gets too loud and the oblivious human next to you is like "Why's your car doing that????" Now, if a bot catches their crush getting it on with another Cybertronian... Ratchet would be into it He'll watch and berate himself for it later on. He just... can't help it. Yes, he will guilty wank over it - and no, his shame will never fade. Megatron will also take great pleasure in it. Let's assume this happens on the Nemesis, and the poor human and bot have no idea they're being watched. Orrr - we could go for Laserbeak catching.... a peculiar kind of footage. Ohhh Megatron will get off to it. He'll rewatch the recording over and over again, set on making that human his no matter what, whether they want it or not. Primus forbid he catches you interfacing with an Autobot

[hwaslayer]

favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol

a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!

Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.

Nope, that shit was all real.

And he hates it.

He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.

But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.

The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.

That didn't happen.

So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.

Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:

you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe

yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.

It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.

Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.

It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.

He couldn't help it.

Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,

But, nope.

It doesn't.

Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.

"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."

"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"

"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"

"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"

"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."

"We can share, there's more than enough—"

"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?

He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.

"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine."

"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."

"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:

"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.

In silence. With weird tension.

You hate it.

You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.

You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.

"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.

"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.

This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.

"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.

"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"The living room."

"Let me come with you."

"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?

He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.

None of this was your fault.

He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.

"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.

"Mhm."

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.

"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.

"I guess. Just exhausted lately."

"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.

"Fuck."

"What?"'

"I've been such a dick to her tonight."

"What'd you do?"

"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.

"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.

"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."

"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."

"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.

God dammit, Yunho.

"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.

"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.

"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."

"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.

"You should've just told me, babe."

"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.

"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."

"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."

"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"I know."

"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."

"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Are we okay?" He nods.

"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.

So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.

Your chin.

Your neck.

Back up to your lips.

He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.

It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.

He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.

Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[roseypwark]

Nine | Lobotomy

ENHYPEN Eighth Member : 지유 JIYU / 지유나 Ji Yuna

Table of Contents

//

The break between legs of the tour is over far too soon. That’s not to say Yuna doesn’t love performing for and meeting fans all over the globe. But she equally loves having access to a recording studio and sleeping in her own bed. And she gets kind of itchy when she goes too long without playing her guitar.

It’s the last night in Korea before the group is headed back to America for another round of concerts. Yuna’s in her room, savoring the last taste of her safe space before two weeks out of the country as long as she can.

Riki’s here, too, holed up in the corner in Yuna’s papasan circle chair. She likes to curl up in it and put a blanket over her to sit in the dark for a while, which is very unlike how Riki is stretched out sideways on the oversized cushion, long legs dangling over one side as he scrolls on his phone. He’s too tall to cocoon himself in the crevice like Yuna does.

Yuna sits at her desk across the room from him. She’s hunched over a bass in her lap with a pair of headphones plugged into an amp. The sound of the guitar isn’t totally absent but it’s substantially reduced when the main audio output is going directly to Yuna’s ears rather than open airwaves.

She plucks the strings to work out a tune that’s been scratching at her frontal lobe for a while now. The sound of the bass straight to her head makes her skull vibrate in a bizarre, pleasant way. She’ll surely lose her hearing prematurely but she needs the noise; otherwise, she can’t tune out the rest of it.

She’s been at it for half an hour and still can’t get it right. She pulls her headphones off, sets them carefully on top of her desk then places her bass back on its stand.

“Frustrated?” Riki asks.

How he could even tell, Yuna has no idea. She hadn’t huffed or tossed anything aside, yet Riki knows exactly how she’s feeling.

“I can’t figure this riff out. It should be so simple.”

“Let’s go to the convenience store,” Riki says, rolling fluidly out of her circle chair to get to his feet. “Take a break.”

Yuna hums, but it’s not her normal agreement.

“Come on,” Riki says, grabbing her desk chair and rolling it—and her—away from her desk. “Come back to it with a fresh mind.”

“I don’t need a fresh mind. I need a lobotomy.”

“No.”

“Let’s buy an ice pick.”

“NO,” he says sternly, but he’s laughing around his next words. “We’re going to get a drink. You clearly need a break.”

Riki goes so far as to grab her hands and pull her out of the chair himself. She lets him push her all the way out the door and to the convenience store. She follows him around the little corner shop as he picks out both of their snacks.

Yuna lets Riki get away with a lot. He gets to treat her differently than anyone else. He understands her like no one else ever has. He's her best friend. She wouldn't lose that for anything.

Riki carries the bag with their candy in it back to the dorms. They walk shoulder to shoulder, meandering along the sidewalk at an abyssmal pace. Yuna doesn't mind. Not anymore. It's okay to walk without purpose if it's with a friend—it’s nearly enjoyable to do so with Riki.

"Are you excited to go to America again?" Riki asks.

"It'll be fun to perform no matter where it is."

Riki laughs.

"What?"

"You don't have to give me the media trained answer."

"I know."

"Why aren't you excited to tour in America?"

"I am. But where doesn't matter. It's not like we ever actually get to see anything in any of the cities we go to."

"Like what?"

"Museums. Landmarks. Tourist attractions. Nature reserves."

“Nature reserves?”

“Mm.”

"You like nature reserves?"

"No."

"You do."

"I like hiking."

"You do?"

"I don't have much time for it. I'd like to go to lots of different national parks in America. You could spend months in some and still never see everything."

"Hiking could be fun. We should go sometime."

"You don’t have to."

“Let’s do it. After we get back from America. You have your license, now. We can rent a car and go somewhere.”

“Do you even like hiking?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You like it and if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

It’s so simple to say it like that. ‘If you’re happy, I’m happy.’ Yuna feels that way about him, too.

She watches Riki dance and she catches herself smiling for no reason. He’s in his element, so talented and beautiful. He clearly enjoys what he does, and that’s enough to make Yuna smile when she doesn’t even realize it.

“I’ll look into it,” she says.

“Okay. Let me know. This’ll be fun. Maknae trip!”

“Maknae bonding time is back.”

“Oh my god—Mandatory Maknae Bonding Time! I forgot about that! We were so awkward back then.”

“I was awkward. You had to deal with it.”

“You hated me.”

“I never hated you!”

Riki laughs.

He likes to tease her about how they used to be. Even if she knows he’s joking, Yuna doesn’t like him even speaking into existence that she could ever hate him. He would have to do something truly irredeemable for that to occur. She doubts that will ever happen.

Back at the dorms, they eat their candy and show each other TikToks until Riki drifts off, on top of the covers on Yuna’s twin bed and still in his jeans. All this despite his own room in the other dorm being less than three minutes away. There’s no room for both of them on a bed that small.

Yuna has the heavy strum of a bass rattling around inside her head as she curls up in her circle chair with a blanket to sleep. It should bother her that her last night in Korea for several weeks isn’t going to be spent in her own bed. But it doesn’t.

//

<<< PREV // NEXT >>>

@pjselee @sumzysworld @aespie