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shalotttower · 9 months

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Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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twistedinthreads · 7 months

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Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake.

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.”

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength.

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her.

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars.

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip.

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper.

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette.

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer.

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now.

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe.

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.”

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric.

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it.

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands.

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake.

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.”

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.”

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately.

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters.

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently.

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes.

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized.

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough.

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness.

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible.

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things.

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm.

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form.

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain.

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton smut #felix catton fic #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

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artists-ally · 11 months

Note

I love your Harvey fics😍 and I have a this fluff thatmayleadto spice/smut scenario in which Harvey comes back home from home finding the reader reading a particularly spicy scene of a romance novel and in the beginning Harvey makes a little fun of her but then he sees the appeal and...you know😂

{That Kind of Love} Reader x Harvey Specter

Can I just say @kjbg-fantasymoon is so sweet??? Like ugh you are so nice ilysm. Told you I’d answer all your requests 😘😘 Anyway here is my two cents on the matter, enjoy!!! Title from this song (p.s. both books I mention in here, Flawless and Dirty Letters, are both real books and I high recommend both of them!)

Word Count: 1,481

Warnings: smut, minor d/s vibes, spanking

Summary: Harvey catches you reading a particular smutty scene from your current book.

~~~~~~

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Is what a bad idea?”

“You know,” I said, motioning between us. “This. Us, alone together? We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

Griffin laughed, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me tight against his chest. “It absolutely is an awful idea. But you look so fucking good in that skirt. I mean Jesus Luca, it barely covers your ass. And you know how much I hate it when anyone looks at anything that’s mine.”

I clenched my thighs together when he pushed the skirt up my ass, not being shy with the noise that burned my core.

“Griffin,” I rested my forehead against his collar bone, gripping his shirt as he pushed my underwear down my thighs.

“Yes?”

“Please,” I begged. I needed to feel him. God, twelve years of sexual frustration was not helping me in any way. Every fantasy I had as a teenager was coming to life.

“Is my girl needy?” I whined. “Aww, do you need me to take care of you? To force you on your hands and knees and fuck you like you’ve always wanted me to? How about I tie you up and make you cum on my fingers, then my mouth, then my co-”

“YN!”

I flailed so hard the book clattered to the ground, and I could feel my pulse in my fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ Harvey don’t you know how to knock?”

“I did knock,” he countered, reaching down to pick up my forgotten story. “Twice. And I opened the door and called your name. And I’ve been standing in front of you for two minutes, watching you read. Watching you bite your lip in that way you only do when you’re completely lost. So, wanna tell me what you were reading?”

I blinked, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. He turned the book over in his hand, reading the cover. Harvey raised an eyebrow at me and offered the book back. With a blush to my cheeks, I plucked it from his hand and folded it into my lap.

“What’s the book about?” He asked again.

“Nothing you’d like, Mr. Harvard,” I stuck out my tongue, placing the book on the table beside me before walking into the living room. “How was your day?”

“Nothing, huh?” Wow, Harvey could not take a hint. “Come on, just tell me. Was it about vikings? Pirates? Viking pirates? What about some small town romance, where the city girl moves back home and the farm boy reigns her back to her roots? Just like his pops did with his mamma?”

“Please, I am far above that cliche bullshit.” I am most certainly not above it. At all. “And why do you care?”

“Because, you were so entangled with it you didn’t even hear me come in. whatever is in that book, maybe I want to find out what it is so you’ll pay attention to me that intensely,” Harvey cornered me in the kitchen, caging me in against the counter after I got a glass of water.

“I pay attention to you,” I argued, looking from his eyes to his lips when he licked him, very clearly looking at mine.

“Uh huh, sure you do. When it involves my wallet and my lips in between your legs,” Harvey teased, bringing me in against his chest. In an oddly similar way that the main character of my book did. “Just tell me, I’ll stop asking if you tell me.” “No you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Harvey smiled, and I rolled my eyes. “It can’t be that bad, Yn. I’ve caught you reading smut more than once, so what was it this time?”

“How do you know I read smut?” My eyes went wide, and my heart sped up a little in my chest.

“I didn’t at first,” Harvey said. “But then I told Donna about one of the books you were reading, Flawless by Elsie Silver, and she told me how ‘spicy’ it was. And you are pretty bad at being subtle, my love. You don’t do a great job at hiding your emotions on your face.”

Welp. Fuck.

My eyes narrowed at the New York lawyer and he just gave me a cheesy smile. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you’re gonna have to read it. Because you’ll understand why when you do.”

As I walked back into the den, Harvey in tow, I plopped the book in his hand. Dirty Letters follows Luca and Griffin, childhood penpals turned strangers, through their reconnection. He’s keeping a huge secret and she’s a recovering victim of PTSD.

“Well, with a title like that I expect it to be dirty,” Harvey rolled his eyes, reading the back of the cover. “Show me the good stuff.”

I flipped to the page I was reading, scanning to make sure I was in the right spot. I didn’t have to bookmark the page because someone decided to scare me half to death. He should know by now to just leave me alone when I’m reading. It’s not my fault that I get vaulted into another world when I do.

“Here, start there and let me know when you’re done.”

Was I entirely sure that leaving Harvey to his own devices with my book was a good idea? No I wasn’t. I knew he was going to make fun of me, but oh well. Everyone else in the world liked to watch porn, I just liked to read it. He didn’t have to understand it, but if it would get his ass off mine? I’ll take the embarrassment and get it over with.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before he set the book down on the kitchen island, clearing his throat. I turned to face him and saw a slight tinge to his cheeks.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” I prepared for the roasting. “Tell me how much of a nerd and how much of a loser I am for reading word porn.”

Harvey just shoved his hands in his pockets. He no longer had his tie, or his jacket for that matter. His hair was unusually messy and that blush. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Harvey blush before.

“Well,” Harvey started. “I can see the appeal.”

He can what? There was no possible way I heard him right. “Say that again?”

“I can see why you like to read. That author is really good at being… descriptive.”

I smirked, “So, you thought it was hot?”

“Amongst other things,” he bent at the waist, resting his elbows on the counter. “I get why you get lost in it, especially with something like that. Griffin is very charming, something we both have in common.”

“Oh please, you read some of the best smut an author can write at that’s what you take away from it?”

“Not at all, my love,” Harvey stepped closer. “I also learned that you have a thing for being called ‘my girl’. And I don’t blame you, you like it when I’m possessive. When I tell you that you belong to me.”

“This was not the reaction that I was expecting,” I eyed him.

“Don’t worry, Yn. I promise I’ll make fun of you for it after I finish making you scream my name,” Harvey ducked his head down and wasted no time in showing his need.

His tongue brushed over mine and he pulled me in tight against his body. Damn him and his unrivaled ability to turn me on. All it took was a few well placed kisses to my neck, to my ear to get me to our room and on the bed, hands not able to get enough of each other.

If I knew Harvey would’ve had this type of reaction to reading smut, I should show him some real smut. That was nothing compared to some of the other stuff on my shelf. Maybe I could get him to do some of those things to me.

“Aww, is my girl already messy for me?” Harvey clicked his tongue, stripping the last of his clothes off. “Who knew you’d be so easy.”

“And who knew that you’d be so easy when it came to getting what I want by giving you a book.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re gonna get what you want?” In a quick grab, I was on my stomach, ass up, and Harvey’s hand came down a lot harder than I was prepared for. “Wanna try that again, pretty girl?”

I gasped when the next one came, and the next. “N-No.”

“Okay then,” Harvey let out a dark laugh, fisting his hand in my hair and pulling me up. “You gonna stop being a brat and let me do my job?”

I nodded, eyes falling shut when he pinched my nipple between his fingers.

“Good girl.”

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter smut #suits #harvey x reader #suits smut #smut #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #suits tv

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doctorwhoisadhd · 4 months

Note

i’ve been seeing ur blaseball posts for a while now and i have to say i have No earthly idea what it is. is it a webcomic? a band?? a sport??? pls give me a crash course on this seemingly cool thing

well shes dead forever unfortunately (riv) BUT blaseball was an absurdist baseball sim that u watched in ur browser, basically like if fantasy football was simultaneously massively multiplayer AND an ARG and also completely fucking insane. it was the best because it ran at all hours of the day and was so so fucking insane and spawned a LOT of memes and fanworks especially art and music! one of the best fan communities for fan music that has maybe ever existed if not The best. ur experience of it was largely filtered thru the team u followed (mine was the hawaiʻi fridays)

here are some blaseball sites for u

blaseball roundups from the youtube, i would recommend starting here itll give u the cliff notes And the vibe. these were done in character, the anchor is a guy who exists in the blaseball universe, also later on they started to be Plot

sibr faq <- this will probably be more helpful but do the roundups first because itll throw u into the lore (and while im at it heres sibr aka the society for internet blaseball research but most of that will. probably be unintelligible. when stuff makes no sense consult the wiki. or ask a fan)

the wiki, where u can read about history and the players and teams and such

BEFORE <- this is where you can still to this day watch old games!!! i love u so much before thank you sibr for allowing me to relive the beautiful game that we are all love (sobbing crying throwing up)

the garages bandcamp <- by far the largest of the fan bands (though there was also the park park rangers and the hades tigers and the los angeli juxebox) there is so much music on here. the majority of it was made in the span of like a year and a half. i got music on there! i recommend starting with away games or blattle of the blands or reunion tour or one of the world tours, they have the widest variety of vibes and will help u learn about most of the teams (im not biased <- guy who has a couple songs in there)

theres also sites like reblase and blaseball-reference and such but those are just catalogues of old data i wouldnt think youd want to trawl thru those as much. theyre probably accessible via sibr anyway

also frankly just ask fans to tell you stories, go in the tag on here and just go in random peoples inboxes. youll pull up some fantastic stuff that way. blaseball was so active and alive and changing and no two people had the exact same experience of it. and god there will always be stories. we will always be telling stories

rest in violence blaseball. i will always love you and i will always miss you and it will never stop

#blaseball #blb #sometimes i think about this stupid fucking game and miss it so so fucking bad i want to throw uo 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#like right now actually #askbox #ari opinion hour

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koolades-world · 4 months

Text

one of my besties had me watch the madison beer mv of make you mine and it's actually such a good song. i love that the entire thing is jennifer's body themed. you know it's bad when i think of fictional characters while i listen to the song haha. sorry if mephi's dialogue seems a little ooc, not super familiar with his speech patterns yet

i'm really bad at giving things titles as you can see haha. highly recommend giving it a listen or listening while you read this <3

also i just learnt mephisto has an undercut? it's actually black so is purple not his natural hair color? he'd look really pretty with black hair but part of me wonders if he dyed it purple to look different from lucifer

anyways sorry this is so late! got busy hanging out with friends and the thing i had originally wanted to post wasn't ready, and i just really wanted to post this haha. enjoy :)

make u mine (mephisto x reader)

Mephisto had never meant to end up in such a compromising situation with the human exchange student, of all people. Not that it being anyone else would have made it better, but at least You looked absolutely ravishing in your party wear, and despite everything in him telling him to look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. Had you placed a spell on him?

It all started with a few words overheard in a conversation between Diavolo and Lucifer. Of course, he hadn't meant to overhear what they were saying on purpose. He could thank the journalist inside him unconsciously picking up on many side conversations at the same time, and that one in particular happened to catch his interest. Listening to Mammon and Asmo talk about the latest party they were going to could wait. His attention was fully captured when he heard the phrase "exchange program." That phrase always meant a scoop was just around the bend.

He had no clue that this "scoop" would slowly consume every waking moment he occupied.

Once the time came that for the program to start, he didn't expect to be greeted with two very different humans. One was a powerful sorcerer he knew rather well, from a distance of course, and the other was a seeming nobody. He thought it was odd, but he wanted to interview you nonetheless to get your thoughts on the program. He was interested in learning about you. It started as the beginnings of an article he knew would perform well, and morphed into personal curiosity.

Getting you alone proved difficult. One of those pesky brothers was always with you, and they seemed very insistent on keeping you two apart. They must've received some kind of instruction from Lucifer, as even Satan seemed intent on staying between the two of you. He had been sitting the the RAD newspaper room, alone, pondering over this exact dilemma, when his problem resolved itself when you came barreling the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"Hey." You were out of breath. Your hair was a mess and a half smile on your face. Your back was pressed to the door. The moment he made eye contact with you was a moment he couldn't quite put words to, despite being excellent at that. He found it hard to look away from you.

He was speechless at first at the crazy coincidence, as if his thoughts had summoned you. "Ehem. How may I help you?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Will you do me a tinsy little favor and hide me? Pretty please?" The way you batted your eyelashes at him made his heart immediately cave to your demands, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold.

"Will you agree to do an interview with me if I do?" He spun the question around on you. He had wanted to ask anyways. He wasn't one to pass up an opportunity presented to him on a silver platter.

"Deal. Quick, Lucifer probably wasn't far behind me." You rushed towards him, taking his hand. This shook him for the second time in less than a minute. Hurriedly, he shoved you behind the printing press that occupied one side of the room and turned it on to cover up any noise you might make. No sooner than he had done this, Lucifer threw the door open.

"Didn't you hear me knocking?" The demon looked just out of sort as you had, but angry rather than amused like you were. He hadn't seen anyone get such a rise out of Lucifer in a while. He was interested in hearing your story. Lucifer's eyes scanned the room in search of you, but only grew more irate upon finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"No. I'm busy." Mephisto turned his back to Lucifer to conceal his growing grin.

"Mc isn't in here, are they?" Lucifer remained in the doorway.

"What do you think? This a writing sanctuary, not a daycare." Mephisto picked up one of the papers printed, pretending to look busy. Lucifer huffed, annoyed.

"Watch yourself, cocky journalist." With that, Lucifer spun around and left the room. He left the door slightly ajar, making Mephisto the most annoyed he'd been during that entire interaction. After pushing the door shut, he called out to you.

"He's gone. You have quite the story to tell, hmm?" He grabbed his notepad and pen, beckoning you to take a seat on the couch beside him.

"Turn off the noisemaker, then we can talk." You sat beside him after coming out of hiding. With a playful sigh, he got back up to shut it off so he could really begin to talk to you.

That was his first real conversation with you without one of the brothers present, and he suddenly understood their desire to keep you to themselves. Thankfully, after that day, he had his foot in the door and you were more than happy to speak to him despite the brother's protests. The scowl on Lucifer's face from over your shoulder as you happily chatted with him was worth the world to him because Mephisto knew that Lucifer wouldn't try anything; not with you with your hands all over him, anyways. He adored being the center of your attention despite the fact that several brothers were watching closely. You often slipped away from the brothers and escaped to the room you knew he'd be in. He didn't know if what you were doing was intentional or not, but he began to grow conditioned to seeing you laid out on the plush sofa by his desk, or parked on the desk itself, waiting for him with a smile and open arms. It got to the point where he was certain he saw more of you that any of the brothers did.

He was unsure about how to feel, but he welcomed you into his life readily. It became more than just being with you to make Lucifer mad. It became being with you just to be with you, because he enjoyed your company. However, he always felt as if he left something to be desired when he thought about you. You always left his heart aflutter with your touches, even though he wanted to assume it was just how you behaved normally.

A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his arm, a hand on his. Sometimes, a hand on his waist, fingers looped through his belt loops. A hand on his chest, playing with his tie. A hand on his face, thumbs gliding over his cheeks. A hand on his thigh, hidden under the table.

They all drove him insane.

It was then he realized he harbored some sort of feelings for the human who'd initially started as just the topic of an article he was writing. He craved your attention and wanted to be as close to you as possible. He knew that went past what he'd initially thought about himself. While you were simply a human, you were a human who'd managed to capture the affections of the seven demon lords, and beyond.

A party at his place was what finally unraveled everything. Despite it being his party and therefore, the center of attention, he was only interested in one person. He knew you'd gotten ready in his bedroom as an effort to prevent the brothers from stopping you from going. They, of course, weren't invited, but he wouldn't be surprised if they showed up always once they realized where you were. He knew at this point, he should just give you your own room. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He had many empty bedrooms and could easily make one into yours, but he loved sharing his space with you. Something inside him loved seeing your things intermingled with his, and he didn't want to part with that.

But, he hadn't seen you since he went downstairs to begin greeting guests. His eyes scanned the room, searching for you. He thought he saw the flash of a familiar blond head of hair, but he swept past that. His gaze soon settled on the person he was looking for: you. You were chatting with another guest, but as soon as you noticed his stare, you excused yourself from the conversation to make your way over to him. He began to think about you, and how much happier he'd be once you were by his side. He greeted you enthusatically and told you how amazing you looked. You naturally slotted into his side, hands on his shoulders.

In his haze, he failed to notice someone behind him. They bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink all over you. He quickly turned to reprimand them, and to catch their face, but they had vanished into the crowd before he could. Mephisto clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. The perpetrator had been swallowed by the evermoving crowd of people. Instead, he went back to you, and decided to help you get cleaned up. You seemed nonchalant about the entire situation, and were happy holding his hand as he dragged you up the stairs to his room.

"Mephi, there's no need to be so worked up. It's a simple fix. If the stain doesn't come out, it was only twenty bucks anways." You kept pace with him.

"It's a matter of dignity. Whoever that was embarrassed me, and now I look like a total moron." He couldn't look at you. His face was most certainly red.

"Not to me you don't." Those words quelled the inner calamity he had a little.

"Well, either way, the stain will set in if we don't do something about it now." He pulled you into his room and locked the door behind you. The last thing he wanted was some nosy demon wandering in after the two of you. If you didn't care what they thought, why should he? But, he didn't want his time with you to be interrupted.

He peered into his closet for something for you to wear. Usually, you had clothes here, hung up, something he was rather proud of, but everything but a couple R.A.D. uniforms were gone. Earlier that day, he'd instructed his staff to wash all your laundry, clean or not, with a new detergent that the both of you quickly fell in love with at the store. It had become both of yours, in a way, and he went feral over the idea of the brothers constantly being reminded of him even when he wasn't around through you.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" He leant out of his closet to yell to you.

"Depends. Anyone important down there?" You responded through the shut bathroom door.

"Not really. Lord Diavolo couldn't make it tonight." He already knew what you were going to say in responce.

"Then we can just get ready for bed. My RAD bag is in here somewhere, so I don't technically have to go home. If you'll let me stay, that is." He heard you laugh through the door. He chortled to himself at that too. You didn't even need to ask anymore. You slept in his bed with him, for crying out loud. You even had your own D.D.D. charger for his house at his side table, right next to his.

"Are you alright with wearing my pajamas to bed? Yours are in the wash." He riffled through his wardrobe to find a very nice pair for you. He eventually settled on one of his sets of black silk pajamas. He wasn't sure if the pants would fit you, but at least you'd have a shirt.

"You know me." You extended your hand through the cracked bathroom door, to which he tossed the clothes into your open hand. You caught them, and snapped the door shut again to put them on. "Mephi, the pants are a little big." He heard you say through the door. Just as he thought. He'd never actually seen you in a set of his clothes before, so he silently prepared himself to feast his eyes. Despite this, he was not ready for you when you stepped in from the bathroom. The blank pants were draped over your arms, and the black button up top fell to your mid thigh. "Just hang these back up. No use in trying that." You put them back into his hands, and threw yourself down onto his bed. He did as you asked, and sat next to you.

"Are your other clothes still in the bathroom?" He studied your side profile.

"Yeah, on the counter." You answered his questions.

"I'll be right back. I'll give those to one of my staff, who'll get the stain out and get it looking brand new." He moved to get back up, but was stopped by your hand reaching out to him.

"Not yet. Let me enjoy a little time with you first." You whined. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll be quick." He moved to get up again, but this time, you got up before him and pushed him back down onto the bed. You straddled him, hands on both of his shoulders, pressing him into his bed.

"You've got no choice now." You triumphally smirked down at him. He knew he could easily get up, but he knew he wouldn't. You knew that too.

"Mc..." He was rather amused, but he couldn't stop from thinking about his feelings for you. Most of his confidence went out the window with that thought.

"I win." With that, you draped yourself over him fully, and Mephisto basked in your attention. As he thought more, while he really didn't want to, his heart told him now would be a great time to tell you how he felt. With the thought of now or never echoing in his brain, he opened his mouth again.

"Mc, I have a confession." He was nervous, more than he'd ever been. But, he was too deep in now to back out.

"Hmm?" You didn't sit up, and remained with your head on his chest.

"I think I'm in love with you." For someone usually so eloquent with his words, these were raw. Thankfully, they seemed to strike a chord with you. You perked up. He studied your face closely for any sort of negative reaction, but none came.

"Can I kiss you?" He was almost stunned by your reciprocation. He wasn't quite sure exactly how you felt yet, but that could wait until after his kiss.

"You may." Spilling that drink on you may have been the second best choice he ever made, the first being deciding to write about you to begin with. He was one lucky demon.

(end was a little rushed cause i'm sleepy haha)

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto x mc #obey me mephisto x reader #oneshot #gn reader

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erule · 9 months

Text

Nothing you can take | c.s.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sejanus make a bet involving you and Coriolanus, that you’ll have to become a couple in order to get some money from him, but everything changes when the two of you fall in love for each other for real.

Warnings: fake dating AU, (kinda) enemies to lovers, bet to fall in love trope (if I can call it like that), sunshine x grumpy/black cat x golden retriever trope, light violence and mention of blood, romance, comedy (I think), (probably) slow burn, fluff, angst

Word count: every chapter of the series will have a different amount of words

A/N: hi! Here we go with my first Coriolanus story!! I don’t know if Coriolanus is OOC here, because I watched the movie like one month ago and I still have to read the book, but I did my best to make him similar to the character I saw. Anyway this is a fanfiction, so please don’t be mad at me if he’ll be, I’ll probably need him to be for the storyline. I apologize to the people in the tags, because I’m really late with the upload, but I’ve been really busy in the past few weeks. Anyway, I hope you like it. Enjoy! X

Tag list: @meeksity, @mxacegrey, @astess, @jasmineee05.

Masterlist

Prologue – Don’t fall in love with me

“Coriolanus Snow? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. What’s the matter, Y/N? You think you can’t make him fall in love with you?” Sejanus asks with a grin.

“Oh no, I was just thinking about the amount of money you’re gonna give me when I’ll win”.

“Don’t, he’s not easy”.

“A challenge, uh? Even better!” You exclaim. “Now excuse me, but I have to go. Before your last drink, watch me sing and put under my spell mister Coriolanus Snow”.

“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wan’t to fall in love, right? People say he’s got a very cute pair of blue eyes”.

“I prefer the color green as my money, Sejanus. Prepare to lose”.

“I think you don’t know what’s coming for you, Y/N”.

You run to the stage, your place in the world, where you can finally give free scope to your passion: singing. Singing has always made you feel free, but tonight, perhaps due to the tension of the challenge, you feel a constriction in your chest. You and a little tipsy Sejanus have agreed on a bet against Coriolanus, but you have a better idea to win: you will tell him everything immediately, in order to pretend to be together for a while, so Sejanus will pay you and you will split the money with Coriolanus. No one will be fooled in the end, right? And then everyone knows that he needs that money too, so he certainly won't suffer from it. While you taste the victory on the tip of your tongue, the words escape your mouth. You apologize to the audience and your gaze falls right on Coriolanus, who isn't paying you the slightest attention, while he's drinking a beer on the sidelines, his Peacekeeper uniform making his eyes as blue as the tide stand out. Sure, Sejanus was right, but that doesn't change anything: a pair of light eyes isn't enough to make you fall in love.

Coriolanus Snow goes to the Academy, he dresses well, but that doesn't mean he's rich, far from it. You, on the other hand, were kicked out of the Academy because you didn't like their behavior, which is why Sejanus is your best friend. You always had the feeling that Coriolanus liked to follow the rules, but in reality he probably preferred to have control, power or money more than a conscience. That's why he's never been kicked out and you've never particularly bonded. It's not that you're greedy, no, it's just that you need money for your family and if a stupid bet can get it easily, then you will do anything to earn it, since the pub doesn't pay you enough for your fantastic shows. And anyway, Coriolanus is certainly an attractive guy, which isn't a bad thing.

“This song is dedicated to all the handsome blue-eyed boys here,” you announce, then grin, while some of your fellow soldiers make fun of Coriolanus and he finally notices your presence. “This song is called Nothing you can take from me and I dedicate it to my old school friend, Coriolanus Snow. Come say hello to me later, Coryo!” You exclaim with a wink and notice his gaze shift to you. For a second, just one, you feel a shiver run down your spine. You would never have believed that playing with fire could make you feel so cold.

Your song makes everyone present dance, everyone except him obviously, who continues to stare at you coldly, without smiling or saying a word, like a marble statue and this almost scares you. It also happened at the Academy, but there you didn't pay attention to it, also because there was no need to win his attention, but here there is a lot of money at stake and you need it desperately.

You descend onto the stage with a feline leap, you leave your guitar aside, while a roar of applause and compliments accompanies you behind the scenes, hoping that Coriolanus will follow you. The door closes behind you, but when you turn around, no one is there. Well, no big deal, it means you'll go look for it later or tomorrow at the latest, there's no rush anyway. But you feel observed and this sensation worries you a lot: it's as if you have someone behind your back.

"Well?"

You turn around, surprised that he's there. Up close he's taller than you remember and you can see his blonde hair well, even though it's shaved. His arms are crossed as he looks you up and down, but without eyeballing you, just a look of pure curiosity painted on his face. So why do you feel like a hunted animal?

“Coryo”.

"Do not call me that. You asked me to come here, right? You asked for my attention in front of everyone. I'm here now. What, the cat got your tongue?” He asks you, a crooked smile somewhere between amused and mischievous that gives a sinister light to his face. He has enough charm to seem like the Devil.

“Don't get any illusions, it's just a game”.

“I don't like playing and you don't like winning, as far as I know.”

“Those games are abominable and I think you know it too, since you're here, right?” You ask him. His smile fades and inside you rejoice, because you know you've hit the mark.

“Speak quickly, Y/N, the rooster crows early in the morning.”

“I have a proposition for you,” you tell him, getting dangerously close to him. He doesn't take a step back, but you see him on guard, almost as if he expects to be stabbed at any moment. “I bet Sejanus that I would make you fall in love with me,” you reveal to him and he smiles wickedly. “I only did it because he promised me money in return and my family needs it. I'm telling you this because I think we could pretend to be together for a while so he'll think we're really in love. In the end, I will split the money with you, since you need it as much as I do,” you explain to him.

For a moment, he observes you, perhaps because he is trying to understand whether you are sincere or not, then he nods, his face serious.

“You know, maybe I was wrong about you: you like winning as much as I do.”

“I wouldn't play if it wasn't for a serious reason. We both know that Sejanus pays and well."

“But he's your friend, right? I wonder why he is doing all this."

“Maybe he's just bored.”

“Perhaps,” Coriolanus repeats, thoughtfully. “Anyway, Tigris must never know. I only ask for this in return,” he says and you offer him your hand.

"Deal".

“And try not to fall in love with me, Y/N. Unlike many others, I don't like playing. You wouldn't survive."

“There's no danger, Coriolanus,” you say, shaking his hand.

Now you feel less sure: why do you feel like you've just sealed a pact with the Devil?

#erule's masterlist #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow head canon #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow blurb #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow one shot #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow fake dating #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years

Text

make my heart surrender (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) | chapter two: wednesday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, lots of angst in this one, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, smoking (plz remember smoking is injurious to your health, ppl), avoidance tactics, mentions of al-anon, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

word count: 3.3k

summary: while you get to know the kitchen staff of the bear a little better, you and carmy finally acknowledge the elephant in the room.

a/n: the song 'about you' by the 1975 makes me think of these two and is where the title comes from. also, i totally made up the pete has an airbnb thing but i just feel like he'd be in real estate or something with his little patagonia vests lol. anyways, happy valentine's day babes & enjoy!

read: part one | masterlist

Wednesday

“Okay, this is some next level shit,” Marcus concludes, in between chews as he tries the brioche donuts you let rise overnight. “It’s got everything I like about the yeast donut but the flavor is so much more pronounced.”

“Carmy said you knew how to throw down but.”

Sydney nods, taking another bite of hers, and you watch as Fak holds the donut up to his ear, letting out a wild, “Wow.”

“Oh fuck,” Sydney practically groans, the salty-sweet flavors of the caramel hitting her taste buds.

Last night, pre-dinner shift, you were introduced to the colorful cast of characters that filled up this kitchen. There was Richie, Carmy’s not-biological-cousin cousin, and Tina, who’d been working in this kitchen since before any of you were born. And Neil the handyman, who somehow actively chose to go back his last name, Fak, which puzzled you. Then there was Ebrahim, who seemed to serve as the meat prep cook and the onsite first-aid guy. And Sydney, the brilliant sous who’d worked in fine dining kitchens till she came here, eager to learn from Carmy.

It was a far cry from the kitchens you and Carmy used to work in but this kitchen there were similarities… things every kitchen has. Everyone has their own little quirks, preferences, styles….

They’re just a little more, well, allowed to be themselves and while overwhelming, you find it refreshing as well.

Fak smells the donut next, followed by another ‘wow,’ and your eyes widen as Fak begins licking just the icing.

“Wow,” Fak repeats, carrying on his more-than-peculiar behavior.

“Is he-?” you start, sharing a look with Sydney next.

…alright? Is this normal? Is he okay?

“Yeah, sometimes we just let him–,” Sydney tries to explain, but she’s not quite sure how to explain Neil Fak to anyone outside of their ecosystem.

“Okay.”

“Anyways, so this is just a personal preference and perhaps a symptom of too much time spent in fine dining, but I like to fuck around with weird flavors,” you continue to explain, in reference to the salty miso caramel creme pat you’ve filled the donut with.

“I’m not much for too sweet-of-sweets,” you announce, earning a laugh from Marcus and Sydney. “... which yes, is a very odd thing to say for a pastry chef. So I like to find combinations that cut the sweetness of anything and give the taste buds another experience at the same time.”

“Which isn’t the direction you have to take your pastries, chef.”

Marcus shakes his head, “No, this is… super cool. And I like it a lot.”

“I apologize in advance if I sound like a total loser,” Sydney starts, placing her donut down on the paper towel. “But when I was at the CIA, I actually had your lemongrass creme brulee.

“With the black sesame ice cream?”

“And the sesame crumble.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. What a blast from the past. “Yeah, I had to fight hard to get some of those ingredients on the menu. You know. Before everyone thought it was cool to do shit like that.”

Sydney smiles in agreement, going back for more of her donut.

“So what’re we workin’ on next, chef?” Marcus asks. He has his notebook out and has a few renderings drawn up with ideas he had last night.

“Well now that we’ve built a great brioche together, I’d love to keep practicing your piping technique and-,” you begin, stopping mid sentence as Carmy joins the three of you.

“Mornin’, chef! Hey, try this,” Marcus greets, ecstatic about the results of just a day of working with you, as he hands Carmy a donut.

He takes it, immediately taking a bite. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he processes and dissects every single flavor note he experiences. You’re all quiet as you wait for his response.

And honestly, you’re still pretty pissed off about him leaving you hanging the day before. After you and Marcus finished up your prep, you had made your way back to your airbnb – the one he set you up in when he asked you to come here.

You had tried your best not to feel like a total loser as you hoped he'd reach out with an explanation. No call, no text, no nothing, wondering why he asked you to come in the first place.

Carmy takes his time savoring his first bite.

“I almost forgot how good you are at this,” he compliments, his tone neutral as if it’s just a fact.

“Thank you, chef,” is all you say back to him. You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze, and continuing to go over today’s bake with Marcus.

You don’t mean to ignore Carmy, but you’re not sure how to act around him either. One minute he’s ignoring you, and the next he’s making you breakfast. And then he’s standing you up, leaving in the hands of his brash cousin? Maybe, you think to yourself, it’s best to keep things professional between the two of you.

You work with Marcus till an hour or so into the lunch shift. You both agreed to start your days early, since you’re only here for a week, so that you could cram as much knowledge in as possible.

Marcus asks if he can take point on flavor pairings for tomorrow’s donuts, and you agree, before parting ways till later this evening. You’ve got to come back later today from one more late night prep.

You haven’t spoken much to Carmy at all since he came in. As much as you’ve tried to focus all of your attention on working with Marcus, Carmy has a commanding presence as he expedites. He’s got something most chefs don’t – true leadership – and it seems like his skills have only improved since he left New York. You gather up your things, preparing to take the subway home for a midday nap, heading out the back door.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were… out here,” you gasp. You're surprised to find Carmy sitting behind the shop, sitting a few stacked crates and smoking a cigarette.

Well, that part isn’t surprising – the smoking part. You contemplate taking a seat next to him and asking him for one, but you’re really trying to cut back these days.

“It’s-, you’re good,” he says, taking another drag. He exhales smoke and the eery feeling of deja vu overtakes you.

Instead of leaving, and continuing this game of avoidance, you stand your ground.

“Are you avoiding me?” you finally muster up the courage to ask. You try your best not to sound as angry with him as you are, to no avail, as more words begin tumbling out of your mouth. “Because, if I recall correctly, Carmy, you asked me to come out here.”

Carmy waits a beat, avoiding your gaze, and it only infuriates you further. You watch as he takes another hit off of the cigarette as you continue, your rage boiling up within you.

“I don’t get it!” you exclaim, shaking your head in pure disbelief. You’re trying your best not to shout. “You ask me to come out here, and make it as easy as possible for me to be here by putting me up in this airbnb, you make me breakfast, and then… what? It’s like-, it’s like I don’t exist?”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s always been like this with you. One step forward and five steps back.”

You wait before saying the next thing.

You’re not trying to be mean, but you’re hurt, and this whole experience has all been so confusing.

“I guess I was fucking idiot to believe that you-, that you wanted me out here or something.”

“That’s not true,” Carmy denies, finally breaking his silence. Finally looking at you, even if just for a moment. His eyes return to the concrete pavement below him as he says, “I just-.”

You don’t want to scare him away now that he’s finally talking to you, but you also want answers. And there’s an elephant in the room that maybe, if you both just acknowledged it, could go away. He puts his cigarette out on the cement beneath his feat, tossing it away onto the concrete.

You lower your voice before speaking again.

“Are you… do you still feel weird about what happened between us?” you ask cautiously, eager to fix whatever the hell it is between the two of you. “Because I didn’t think we’d have to talk about it since, well-, I just thought we said we’d just forget it. I mean, I’m not-, I don’t-, I just don’t want things to be this weird between us, Carm."

In some ways, you don’t blame him. You had seen him at his absolute lowest: the day Mikey died. You wonder if he felt too ashamed of how vulnerable he had been. You wondered if he still felt weird about what had happened next….

You had argued with him that day – practically demanded that he not go in for dinner service that night. You knew he had wanted a distraction, but after the phone call, after learning what Mikey had done, you knew he was wrecked – even if he wouldn’t admit it. That level of denial couldn’t be healthy, but he'd snapped at you and you didn't think there was much you could do about it. It didn’t take long for him to blow up at a line cook mid-shift, and you had quickly ushered him into the walk-in.

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you had chastised him. “Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?”

Carmy had grabbed at his chest, and you knew he was having one of his breathing episodes.

“Carmy, are you o-?"

He’d held out his hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you’d left him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in filled your ears, reinforcing your exact reasons why you hadn't thought it was a good idea for him to come in that night.

That night, you had made sure he got home okay, and he’d practically begged you to stay with him. It hadn’t been the first time you’d slept in the same bed, and you knew he was at his lowest point, in need of company. It hadn’t been until he started crying – sobbing really – that he finally broke.

“Carm,” you had whispered, unsure if he wanted you to acknowledge it or not.

“Carmy.”

He had turned to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body. You had never seen him like that as he’d buried his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours.

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you had whispered, over and over again. You stroked his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you knew there wasn’t much you could do. You’d let him cry, continuing to run your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort your could.

When he finally looked up, all he could think to do was to kiss you. You had been taken aback -- caught off guard as you'd pulled away from him.

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you had said, pushing him away.

At that moment, his eyes were swollen, his face red, and he looked like you had just kicked his puppy. He had leaned his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, and you’d felt that he’d put you in an impossible position.

You’d have been lying if you said you hadn’t wanted it – hadn’t thought about it before – but Carmy had never given you any inkling that he was even interested in dating anyone. You had been perfectly fine being ‘just friends’ with him despite the whispers between the kitchen staff when no one thought you were listening. And now? You knew he wouldn’t be in the right headspace. It wouldn't be fair to either of you.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you’d apologized softly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence had only made you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” was all he'd said, breaking his silence and looking up at you with those sad, swollen blue eyes. He leans in to kiss you once more.

“Please.”

In between kisses you’d managed to ask, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he whispered, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he had left on your skin. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good.”

It was then that you’d realized what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you.

The truth was that you were fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other.

“Yes,” you’d repeated, finally giving into him.

Even though it should’ve been a beginning, it felt like an end, but for one night, you’d indulged the both of you.

“I know,” he says, his voice pulling you back into the present. His eyes are fixated on the pieces of gravel that sat between his feet. Even though you both agreed to it, he hadn’t forgotten about what happened between the two of you and he’s not sure if he should tell you that too.

But that’s not what’s wrong. It’s not why he’s avoiding you. Or maybe it’s part of it. He hadn’t expected seeing you to be this hard. That it would bring it all back – wanting you – so much so that those incredibly big feelings had sent him running to a meeting.

He just needed a place to be unapologetically fucked up.

He’s not sure what he thought would happen – like you’d just fall into the same old rhythm of your friendship without a care in the world.

He’d called Sydney yesterday and he could barely breathe. Sydney had told him to take the night off – that it wouldn’t help to come back to the kitchen that night – and that he had a whole week of you to prepare for. To figure this shit out.

“I um,” he starts. He’s not sure why it’s so hard to get these words out; why it feels so difficult to tell you. “I’ve kinda been going to these al-anon meetings…ever since, well you know… since I got home.”

“Oh.”

Well that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. You’re not sure what you were expecting him to say. That he hates you? That he couldn’t stand being in the same kitchen with you and yesterday brought it all back? That it was a mistake reaching out to you?

You sit down on the curb, next to Carmy, leaving plenty of space between the two of you.

“My sister nagged me to go. Thought it was bullshit but… I don’t know why I kept going back. I still go three times a week.”

You stare at the ground, not sure what to say next. All that comes out is:

“Well I feel like an asshole.”

He scoffs, moreso to himself, “No, you’re not. I-, I’m sorry. I should’ve-.”

You can tell he’s frustrated as he huffs, “I don’t know why this is so hard for me to tell you.”

You sigh, scooting a hair closer to your old friend.

“I don’t know either, Carm. I-, we used to tell each other everything.”

“I know.”

You catch his gaze, your eyes meeting with his, and it feels like you can’t breathe for a moment.

“I should’ve called. Should’ve kept in touch. Guess I just feel like-, I don’t know,” Carmy admits, regretfully. “I know I’ve been….”

“Uh huh. You’ve been….” you trail off.

“But I do. Want you here.”

And that’s the problem, he thinks to himself.

“I know I’ve been a dick. I shouldn't have-.”

You take a breath, processing all of it.

“Can we… not have this conversation again?” you ask, taking a lighter tone this time. “I mean, we sorta had a very similar conversation to this yesterday… and now today… like… are you gonna stop being such a fuckin’ weirdo or what?”

He lets out a small laugh, “Yeah. Yeah I-, I’m gonna stop, well, you know.”

You chuckle in response, continuing to tease him, “Good because… you know usually when your friend comes to town you hang out a little, catch up, say hey hello how are you? I mean, maybe I’m totally out of pocket for this, but sometimes, you know… they even hug. Yeah, Carm, like, normal people.”

“Oh fuck you,” he mutters, jokingly.

It’s quiet between the two of you, but for the first time in the last 48 hours, it's not weird. It’s a familiar quiet intimacy – something that reminds you of the before times.

Before Mikey died.

Before you hooked up.

“Hey, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to be here too,” you reassure in response to what he said earlier, bumping your shoulder up against his, playfully, earning the slightest smile from him.

“How’s the place?”

“Surprisingly, very nice,” you answer, a mischievous tone in your voice like you know it’s going to start something.

“What? You think I’d put you up in a shit place?” Carmy asks, feigning offense.

“I’ve been in your New York apartment, Berzatto. Which is mostly why we spent most of our days off at mine,” you continue.

He laughs dryly in response.

“My brother-in-law manages a few airbnbs so… it’s the least I could do for… you know… you comin’ out here,” he explains.

“Well thanks. It’s-, it’s great.”

“I gotta get out of here early, and pick up the kid. Have a goodnight, sweetheart,” Richie says to you, about to head out of the restaurant.

“Richie, what the fuck did I fuckin’ tell you about saying shit like that!” Carmen shouts back at his cousin, with an eye roll.

“So sorry,” Richie says sarcastically, emphasizing your name after. “Gotta woke-ify everything in front of Carmen. Just a little baby.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Carmy yells across the kitchen, moving quickly through the closing shift chores.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie brushes off Carmy’s comment with an eye roll.

“See you fucks tomorrow.”

“This look good, chef?” Marcus asks you, motioning for you to come over and take a look at the mixer.

You reach down into the mixer, checking the dough for texture.

“Yeah, looks good. Go ahead and grab a few sheet pans so we can shape these and we’ll cover ‘em so they can proof overnight,” you order, Marcus nodding in response.

“Thank you, chef.”

As Marcus disappears, in search of a few sheet pans, Carmy’s wiping down one of the prep stations.

“Hey, you,” you say, a smile on your face as soon as you see him.

After your talk this afternoon, things feel lighter. He feels lighter.

“Hey,” he says, finishing up with his cleaning duty before making his way over to you. Carmy checks to see that Marcus hasn’t come back yet, and you notice.

“Great dinner service, huh?” you congratulate.

“We’re gettin’ there,” he replies. “Smoothest it’s been so far. Since the reopen.”

Ah yes. The reopen. You’re still waiting to hear that story.

“I was thinkin’, maybe we could do that catch up thing? Over a drink?” Carmy proposes, changing the subject, and you think to yourself that it’s the most confident you’ve ever seen him.

“I-,” you start, as Marcus makes his way back towards the pastry area. “We’ve got one more late night prep tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, spotting Marcus as well. “Tomorrow’s good.”

“Goodnight, Carmy.”

“Goodnight.”

read: part three

#Spotify #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #make my heart surrender

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eleni-cherie · 3 months

Text

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.1

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

age 25 // 1st year - assistant physician

16th August

Barcelona, Spain

"This is a terrible idea," Yoongi mumbled into his palm that was propping up his chin. Side-eyeing Jimin from his seat in the backseat. "They'll blow it."

"They won't, have a little trust," Jimin argued with a whine. Only earning an unconvinced raised brow from the older guy though.

"Why would I trust these guys I don't know?"

"You know and trust me, don't you?"

And Jimin's grin only widened as Yoongi found himself huffing, unable to object. The younger one taking it as a victory.

His glance then falling to Taehyung on the passenger's seat beside him who had been rather quiet the whole drive there to the docks.

"Yoongi might be right," he eventually spoke up then. It wasn't like Taehyung was too keen to disagreeing with Jimin, but Yoongi had a point.

Much to the master thief's dismay.

"Oh no, not you, too.." Jimin's voice faded, however, when seeing someone entering the warehouse then, catching his attention instead. And he hastily swung the car door open. "Ok, do what you want. I'm going in now!" he announced in a sing-song voice.

Causing the other two to groan in comical unison.

Obviously they wouldn't let him go there alone.

"Wait for us!"

»»»

"Take the vital signs from the patient in room 102, schedule an MRT appointment for room 106 -"

Cassandra was scribbling everything down on her clipboard as she followed one of the third-year's, Dr Moreno, down the hallways, almost bumping into a nurse who was helping an elderly patient going back to his room.

"Oh, and don't forget to get Mrs Oliviera's blood results before the laboratory guys leave."

The older physician came to an halt then, blowing off some of her loose strands, which tended falling in front of her eyes. Her gaze catching something in the distance then before glancing down to the shorter Cassandra, who was too busy noting the latest task down to notice her sudden unsettled demeanor and lightly bumped into her.

"Uhm, anyway, if you're done you can check out if they need help at ER. Heard they got lots going on there this weekend. And if there's any problem, page me. Alright?"

Cassandra quickly looked up and nodded, seeing the tall brunette flashing her a quick smile before stomping away to the direction of the cause of her distress. And Cassandra caught the glimpse of Dr Ramirez, another third-year, walking through the corridors.

"Huh, of course what else," she almost snickered to herself when remembering she might get overheard and instead pursed her lips.

She passed by the nurse station where her colleague and fellow first-year Stella was peeking over the desk with wiggling brows, sending Cassandra a curious look then. Always up for some good gossip.

"What's up with her today?"

Cassandra sighed, letting her gaze wander to where her supervisor and her ex-boyfriend had disappeared to. She had only been there for three months so far, but things like that quickly made rounds among first-years.

"No clue, I am guessing he got on her nerves again."

"As always."

One of the older nurses and someone you wouldn't want to get on bad terms with, rolled in her chair towards them with a knowing look. "Rumors has it the two have a bet going on."

Cassandra was about to ask further, her own curiosity often getting the best of her, when recalling all the tasks her supervisor assigned her to after the daily round. So she excused herself and hurriedly made her way to room 102 first.

First year was hard for most rookies. It apparently got better after entering the second year, but she dared to doubt that until proven wrong.

The daily round every morning was like a quiz show with the chief physician acting as the quiz master and cracking up bemused, knowing all rookies were scared of him.

Then followed the routine tasks and examinations, with an emergency here and there in between.

The intensive care unit was no joke, even if not all of Dr Moreno's patients - who essentially were also Cassandra's, Stella's and the other two rookies' in their team - were in the intensive unit, sometimes they did end up there. And that did take a toll on her, because intensive care usually meant critical conditions.

It wasn't like her intern days anymore - which only lasted three to four months straight - where she mainly assisted in easy routine tasks. This was the real deal now, even if as a rookie she still beared zero responsibilities. The attending physicians would have to face the consequences for a mistake, but that didn't lift the weight off Cassandra's shoulders. Not one bit.

Thankfully, she hadn't made a mistake so far. Yet. Sure, patients had died, but not out of a mistake from her side. Yet.

As one of the other senior physicians had pointed out in one of his very motivational speechess: sooner or later all of them would make a mistake.

His words haunting her ever since, even if he'd later argued that it shouldn't let them weigh down. Being afraid could be a good thing. It'd prevent them from becoming sloppy.

There was truth to that. However, it still left her unsettled.

It was 2am when Cassandra finally arrived at the ER after a busy day and found the ward physician down there. She remembered seeing her around before, Dr Estefan, who was running her fingers through the mop of dark curls while designating patients.

It was indeed a chaotic day there since it was the weekend and normal doctor's offices were closed. It felt like everyone with even a mild cold was coming there in fear of it being something severe.

Cassandra was about to approach her, when a clearly stressed nurse came seemingly out of nowhere, holding a patient's file in front of her face. "You're a doctor, right?"

Cassandra blinked, her mind going blank. Technically, she was one, right? She had the degree and everything. At least she had more medical knowledge than an average person.

"I -uh-" Before she could even stutter out a proper answer, the file was shoved into her hands. The nurse being called by another colleague to assist before Cassandra could object.

Dumbfounded, the young physician took a deep breath and began skimming the filled in pages.

"male - 25 - laceration left arm - sprained arm"

In that moment one of the third-year assistant surgeons passed by - easily recogniseble by the green scrubs contrary to her blue ones and his confident way of walking. He was also one of her supervisor's best friends, so she knew him.

"Eh, excuse me, Dr. Torres. The nurse gave me this file an-"

He had already snatched the papers from her hands, reading over the important info. He glanced at his watch then.

"Ah, you can manage that on your own," he grinned, handing her the file back without giving any sign of wanting to help her out, "Remember what we practiced." He was already walking away, waving. "And if needed, page one of the orthopedists for the shoulder."

Yet again, she was left speechless.

Admittedly, it indeed sounded like something she could actually handle herself. So she inhaled deeply and nodded to herself.

Well, she could take a look and if needed, still call in one of the attending physicians - if she even managed finding an unoccupied one in this chaos.

The note attached to the file said room 044, which was right behind her and where the nurse had probably emerged from.

An insecurity was audible in the knock she gave the door and she took out a pen to scribble down her name as the assigned doctor on the file while pushing it open.

"Hello, I'm here to take a look on a wound?"

There was a short moment of silence before she heard the patient respond. "Y-yeah.."

She hummed, still not taking her eyes from the file as she walked to the counter when hearing him speak up again. "Do I know you?"

"Do you?" she questioned unimpressed as she set the file down and got a pair of disposable gloves, almost knocking off a bottle of oitment. Her clumsiness resurfacing once again.

"Think so.."

"Perhaps you'll remember later," she mumbled, not taking him serious.

She only moved to the city a few months ago to start her medical training after graduation and barely went out. Therefore she highly doubted anyone outside of the hospital would know or recognise her.

Slipping over the gloves with some strange determination, she turned around swiftly. Long curls swaying over her shoulders. "Now let's take a look on th-"

She didn't manage completing the sentence, however, her words getting caught in her throat when meeting a pair of wondering brown eyes. Triggering her memory in the second their irises met and her brows soon joined his raised ones.

"Three.. no, two years ago. Right?"

He was the first one to speak up after the short silence. His attempt to chuckle coming to an abrupt halt as his arm moved, a wave of pain washing over him.

"T-two to three years.." she repeated with a stutter.

Eventually, the scales fell from her eyes as flashbacks from a particular night during one of her interships rushed in front of her mind's eye. Of course.

"Oh, don't say you don't remember me, Doc." He mocked offence only for his smile to grow wider.

"No, no, I do! I also remember your friends," she quickly reassured, almost tripping over her words, "One of them was named Yoongi. Right?"

At this, Taehyung only laughed under his breath. "You remember him but not me? Can I have another doctor, please?"

"Hey!" Cassandra groaned playfully. And she stepped closer, tilting her head at him in an almost marveling manner. "I must admit, I'm amazed you managed remembering me with that concussion though."

"What do you mean? Pops would've busted us without you." A scowl was contrasting his gentle features and she giggled, remembering that odd nickname they had for the interpol agent.

"True. You still owe me one for that, cool guy."

Her lips tucked into a grin full of fake cockiness. She was obviously only joking but Taehyung's expression softened, cracking a small smile.

Of course he remembered her. How couldn't he? He didn't visit many doctors after all - trying avoiding it as much as possible. And he'd especially not come across many with such lovely doe eyes like Cassandra's.

"So.." he cleared his throat then, "What are you doing here? You're an actual doctor now?"

She nodded, not able hiding a little proud smile. "Mhm, only assistant physician though. I'm in my first year."

"I see.."

The young physician decided to proceed with the examination then, feeling they'd spent enough time with small talk - if it could even be considered as 'small talk', considering that term held a randomness and insignificance to it, which didn't feel suitable to their conversation.

Carefully, she touched his arm. His hand was pressing on it firmly to keep the cloth he put on it steady, preventing blood from flowing all over his skin. But it also prevented her from taking a proper look on the wound.

"I know it hurts, but I need to take a look.." she slowly began, giving him an inquiring look to which he nodded. And he let her fingers lower his hand.

The wound was indeed not too severe, aproximately 3cm only. But it must've been deep considering the amount of blood.

"Can you move your fingers for me?" she asked and he obeyed, his left hand moving. "Good, thank you," she smiled. It was indeed good, that meant none of the main nerves was injured. She lifted his sleeve next. There was a light swelling on his brachium as noted in the file. "As for the sprain, we should do an x-ray to rule out a fracture or other bone injury as the source of the problem. But if you can still move the arm, it should indeed be a simple sprain."

"Whatever you want, Doc."

"Here's the deal," she retreated then with a confident posture, pointing at his arm, "I can handle all this. The puncture doesn't seem to be severe and only needs a few stitches, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for an attending doctor, I'm happy to step back. Good luck seeing one before midnight, though."

Taehyung chuckled at her sarcasm. As if she hadn't already taken care of his injury when she'd been a mere intern. Though, frankly, they hadn't left her much choice back then. "Funny how you let me choose. You think I wouldn't trust you a second time?"

She shrugged, biting back a bashful smile. "It's my duty to inform patients about all their options."

Taehyung observed her for a moment, licking over his dry lips in a contemplating manner. "S'okay, I'll take a risk and let you do it."

Cassandra's lips curled into a grin. "Good call."

While she began getting all the needed utensils ready, he took a closer look on her. She hadn't changed much, hence why he'd recognised her so easily.

Same sweet smile, same beautiful coppery curls, same dazzingly chocolate eyes, same cute round nose.

He hadn't noticed her beginning to work, too absorbed in his own thoughts. Only when she desinfected the wound, his mind returned to the examination room and he flinched.

"Want me to inject you a local anaestheticum for the stitches this time?" she asked with an arched brow. An amused smile toying on her lips when remembering their first encounter. "Now I can finally do it after all."

Much to her surprise, however, the young marksman shook his head. "No, it's fine. It already hurts like hell. What is there a little additional pain anyway," he tried joking and playing it off. And Cassandra let him, still giving him a knowing look when preparing the needle and threat.

"Ah, indeed a cool guy," she smirked then and he brushed off the fact he liked that nickname, despite its purpose being to tease him. "Alright then. But if it hurts too much, just say and I'll stop. Promise?"

And his lips tucked into a genuine smile despite his state, enjoying her concern. He nodded. "Promise."

Cassandra began the stitches, peeking at him after each one to ensure it was durable. She could tell he was clenching his jaw, but otherwise didn't seem to mind it. Perhaps the overall pain was indeed higher.

"So.. your name was Taehyung, right?"

The basic trick of engaging patients in a conversation to help them ease up and distract them had proven itself as very helpful to her over the years. That hadn't changed.

"Oh, so you do remember my name," Taehyung scoffed playfully.

She frowned briefly, a short laugh escaping under her breath. "Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged as much as his injured arm would let him. "Because a minute ago you didn't even recognise my face."

Raising a brow, she got ready to defend herself. Having all the arguments ready.

How she saw countless of patients and couldn't instantly remember all their names. How his face got rounder and his hair seemed darker and definitely longer since their last and only encounter. How it had been years.

But she decided against it, focusing back on her work with a sly smile.

"Since you're talking so big, do you remember m-"

"Cassandra."

Her eyes went round and they met his teasing ones. With a light blush, she huffed and went back to the stitches. "So Taehyung, how comes there's a different name in the file?" She cleared her throat then, the wit returning to her lips.

"A different name, huh?" he played along, "That's odd."

She hummed amused, knowing the reason very well. "And how did your arm end up like this?" she wondered then with pretended nativity.

He most likely wouldn't tell her the truth anyway, but it was her duty to ask either way. And her suspicion was only confirmed when he nervously laughed out, gaze wandering.

"Oh, you know.. stupid accidents happen all the time. Tripped and fell onto something sharp."

That wasn't even a complete lie. He hadn't tripped though, the goon had twisted his arm and rammed the knife right into it. Perhaps trying fighting a guy twice his height - to be dramatic - without his gun hadn't been the smartest idea. Then again, he was entirely blaming Jimin for his current situation. They shouldn't have trusted those guys after all.

The young woman only hummed at this answer, not buying it at all but not able to disprove it either. Simply playing along as well. "Hate when that happens."

They exchanged a small chuckle.

"What are you doing here in Spain anyway?" he wondered out loud then. "Last time I saw you in Germany after all."

She shrugged, her eyes briefly catching the sight of a small golden pedant around his neck. She tried recalling if she'd seen it that night back then as well or if it was new to her.

"Was only there for the internship. Now I was in the mood for something sunnier," she explained with eyes still fixated on the wound.

There was an odd familiarity while talking so casually to him. Reminiscing of long-lost friends when in reality, they had only met once. Though frankly, that one time had been quite a lasting encounter.

"Stitches are done," she announced then and cut the thread. He perked up at this before wincing at the abrupt move. "That fast?"

"Oh, don't you remember? I'm a pro at this," she grinned almost smugly, being sure Dr Torres would be proud of her stitches. And Taehyung chuckled under his breath. Recalling something along the lines.

At last, she smeared some antibiotic gel onto the now closed wound and bandaged it with gauze.

Picking up the file again, he watched her with curiosity scribbling down something.

"As for the sprain.. avoid activities that cause pain, swelling or discomfort and regularly ice the area for twenty minutes each time," she said, too focused on the file to notice his eyes following her. "To help stop swelling, you can also compress the area with an elastic bandage until the swelling stops. And elevate the the arm above heart level, especially at night, so it allows gravity to help reduce it."

He only hummed, making mental notes of everything. Or at least he tried to as he kept getting distracted from the small wrinkle between her brows and her pacing around the room. Being in awe with her professionality when she talked like that, knowing exactly what she was saying.

"I'll also let one of the nurses give you some pain medications, if you need."

He blinked as she had interrupted his train of thoughts. "Y-yeah. That wouldn't be too bad."

"Well, then.." She stiped off the gloves and tossed them into the bin. Extending her hand to him then with a bright smile. "I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate. So.. take care, cool guy."

She had to admit, it was a pity she'd never see him again like most patients coming in and out there. Especially considering he was a thief who was, she assumed, still on the run.

Even if this was technically the second time they met. She shouldn't press her luck, she knew.

Taken aback, Taehyung stared at her hand. Eyeing it for a second longer than intended.

This was the part where he should say something, he knew but he had no clue of what exactly or how.

So instead, he simply accepted her delicate hand. Giving it a light squeeze and a shake.

Her cheeks feeling warm at the brief touch and the sight of Taehyung's endearing smile before he let go.

"Thanks, Doc. You.. you, too."

»»»

18th September

A month had passed since Cassandra and Taehyung had met yet again in the ER. Ever since, she had often caught her thoughts swirling back to him. Filled with a mix of curiosity and fondness towards the mysterious criminal with the harmless aura. Although those thoughts became less and less frequent with time.

It was the middle of September now. The weather far from being autumn yet, but the hot summer days were gone as well and so she slipped into a light jacket when exiting the hospital that evening. Mindlessly, she shoved a piece of gum between her lips to keep her mind occupied and distracted from her rumbling belly until reaching home and getting to eat properly.

There were several people around the parking lot, some leaving, some arriving. Not paying much attention to any of them as her sole focus was to get home quickly.

Only when her name echoed over the buzzing city noises, she paused in her tracks.

Glancing confused over her shoulder, she quickly spotted a tall man waving at her lazily. He was leaning against the wall of the ER entrance. And her eyes widened further. Wondering if he had actually been the one calling her or if she had imagined things.

He had ash-blond, mid-long hair which covered his forehead messily. Eyes hidden behind round black sunglasses which matched his black blazer. And for a second she tensed, not recognising this person despite the inviting voice and cheeky rectangle grin ringing a bell in the depths of her memory.

The man huffed out a laugh when noticing her hesitation. Lowering the shades on the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head forward to glance past them.

"You keep hurting my ego, Doc, you know that?" he winked.

And her eyes lit up.

"Taehyung?"

She quickly pursed her lips, realising how careless it might be to say his name out loud like this. Looking around then to ensure no one had heard her, she approached him with fast steps.

In all honesty, Cassandra hadn't expected seeing Taehyung again. Or at least not so soon. But frankly, she hadn't expected to ever see him again after that one night during her internship either and yet, a bit over two years later, their paths somehow had crossed again in a similar situation.

Funny how things worked in indecipherable ways sometimes. It wasn't all too predictable after all.

"I didn't recognise you with the new hair-colour and the glasses, sorry," she pouted apologetically when standing in front of him. Suddenly feeling very small under his striking appearance compared to hers, with a simple cardigan, shirt and jeans paired with a 'just finished a twelve hour shift'-tiredness on her face. Not much was left of it from the moment she'd seen him, though.

"But looks good. How comes?"

He only gave her an ambigious smirk. "Let's say it was time for a new look." Or rather disguise, he thought. Seeing an unconvinced glance behind her long lashes as she hummed.

"I see.. and how's the arm?" She motioned with her chin to the limb she'd taken care of only a few weeks prior. "Any better?"

"Mhm, fully recovered." He raised it with a nod, wiggling it as proof. "Great work as always by you."

She blushed and looked away at the unexpected praise. Coughing awkwardly then. "Well, I'm glad to see that," she nodded. Her heels rocking back and forth at the thought of her next question. "And to what do I owe the honour of this visit? Or was it just to update me on your recovery?"

Taehyung chuckled quietly. Shaking his head. "I still owe you, remember?" he said, matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widened at his words. "You owe me?" she repeated puzzled.

With a non-chalant shrug, he briefly glanced down to the ground.

Truth was, he hadn't expected seeing the young doctor with the warm smile and beaming eyes ever again either. He hadn't planned to. Because even if they relished more the challenge of stealing and there were times when they only stole the object in question to return to its rightful owner or someone who actually needed it - they still remained criminals.

He knew he should stay away from her. And yet, she was one of these people he just couldn't get out of his mind. Whether now or two years ago. No matter how hard he tried.

"You kept your promise two years ago," he said then, "And you didn't call the cops on me last time, either. So I want to make it up to you. If you let me."

Cassandra contemplated for a moment. Folding her lips as her conscience tried arguing with her about all the risks there were - and there were many - when getting involved with someone like him.

But then she glanced at him again and all she could do was smile.

It wasn't his handsome face, but the expression full of charming anticipation on it. It wasn't his heart-shaped lips, but the shy, boyish smile on them. It wasn't his mellow voice, but the words radiating warmth.

Her mind might've been trying warning her, but her chest was telling her otherwise.

"Lead the way, cool guy."

»»��

next chapter: 0.2 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion

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genericpuff · 6 months

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Genuinely I would give anything to hear your thoughts or read more critical analysis of yours on other webcomics writing (*slides you Marionetta* I like the webtoon but there are some things in the writing that I'd like to see be discussed critically more often but the fandom focuses way too much on shipping. sighs..)

Anyway, you probably have been asked this before but are there any webtoons in particular you would recommend? :D

Oh lord, you don't know how many times a week I get asks in my inbox asking for my opinions on webtoons they're reading. It's really sweet that people wanna hear me talk about other works outside of LO, but unfortunately I just don't have the time to read as much as I used to, even keeping up on LO lately is getting really difficult 😅 I'm definitely keeping a list though of works to check out!

That said, I try not to read series on the basis of criticizing them because frankly I just... don't want to spend time reading something if people are only looking for me to rag on it? 😆 Of course I know that's not the only reason, I know there's also just the element of seeing me talk extensively about other works the way that I do with LO, but it's not really something I can turn on and off like that, I have to get really into a series to want to talk about it to that extent. So it often comes down to just luck of the draw :'0

Right now the series I'm keeping up the most on (or have completed and would absolutely 100% re-read):

Alfie (18+, it's porn with plot but the plot is REALLY GOOD , I SWEAR LMAO the art is gorgeous, the characterization is IMMACULATE, and it ironically tackles the subject of purity culture way better than LO ever has lol)

Theia Mania (the creator is often in my comment section / neck of the woods, she's been working on an Abduction of Persephone retelling for a long while now and has also tackled other myth retellings in her style! I always love seeing new pages of her work in my feed :' ) <3)

Tales from Alderwood (if you like fantasy and comedy, this one's great, the plot's really starting to get interesting and it's just got this really great sense of humor about it)

The Black Parade (this one's REALLY interesting, it's a comic-stylized version of My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade, using the songs as narration and sometimes even dialogue to tell a visual story, it's really cool and the art matches beautifully with the lyrics and style of MCR!)

A Tale of Two Rulers (this is a Legend of Zelda fancomic that poses the question, "What if Zelda and Ganondorf got married to solve their political crisis?" It updates a lot slower than most of the other comics I follow but the art and writing is so worth it <3)

Dogs of Future Past (and p much all of Lynx's Undertale comics which can be found in the link, seriously, THESE are the comics you wanna read if you wanna get into Undertale fanworks, they are PEAK)

Tamberlane (this one's an anthro comic, I normally don't read anthro but this one actually gripped me by the throat, the art is gorgeous and the character arcs so far have been great!)

The Mafia Nanny (okay it's legit so funny that I'm including this one here but I've been reading it the last couple days after seeing it basically beat out LO at the top of the trending tab for a couple days, so I figured I'd give it a shot, at first I was like "great more tropey shit" but the more I read it the more it's actually started to get pretty good, I'm holding out and hoping to god it stays that way LOL it's not especially deep or anything like that, but it's really fun and cute to read and the shipping of the main character within the narrative isn't too self-absorbed which I can always appreciate, I'd honestly be 100% fine with it if it didn't turn into a romance)

City of Blank (I talk about this one a lot here, but it's one of my favorite Originals right now, the art is super polished and the writing has gotten INTENSE, go check it out if you want some fun action / sci-fi storytelling!)

Time and Time Again (a time-travelling vampire and his werewolf boyfriend get into all kinds of misadventures, what more could you ask for?)

Touch of Divinity (like the Mafia Nanny, this is one I just started reading, it's got a very interesting premise so far and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!)

#if i ever do read marionetta then y'all will definitely hear about it LOL #ask me anything #ama #anon ask me anything #anon ama #recommendations #reading reccs #reading recommendations

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chinomiko · 1 year

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hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

#chinomiko #my candy love #otome game #castiel #original character #canon lore #mcl

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goingsunnythousandmerry · 4 months

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Hiiiii, I'm a new follow who got absolutely smitten with your work!

I saw your last post anddd I just decided to drop by this ask!

So, umm, I really crave this man named Marco I love so much like fr I'm crazy about this guy lmao 💀 anyways can I possibly get a Marco x F!reader idk just some fluff stuff with this man I really think he's super affectionate and smitten with his partner sooo can I get morning with him or something like that? Like reader waking him up for some coffee and then him taking maybe a shower and shaving while maintaining his mini beard (stache is that what its called? Idk) while reader watching him admiring him and then marco notices her and sooo you know the idea! Could be SFW or NSFW you choose the best thing you see coming up eith the plot please!

Hopefully, I didn't make this hard for you but really I love your fics so muchhhh like literally you really share the same way of thinking of the characters personalities and actions as me so I'm loveeeeee!

Anyway call me strawberry!

thank you!

Stay safe out there!

XOXO

Hey Strawberry! Here is my go at your request. Thanks for the suggestion, I had fun writing it! It kind of ties in to my Marco x Reader fluff I posted earlier today, but if you didn't like that or don't want to read that I'll give another short scenario here. It's short and sweet. I'll do a Marco NSFW hopefully in the next couple of days. Plan is to have it fit in with this fic and my earlier posted marco fluff fic. Hope you enjoy! If we want more Marco or someone else, like, comment, request below! Thanks friends!

Warnings: Suggestive, Fluff, SFW, petnames, spoilers for WANO, I do not own these characters

Scene Set up: Either follows my previous post Falling for Marco the Phoenix or You, a former member of the Whitebeard Pirates, decide to go with Marco to Sphinx Island to help protect Pop's home Island. After living on the island awhile, you and Marco confess your feelings for one another. This fic takes place the next morning as you begin to go about your routines as a couple in the same house.

A Morning with Marco

The next morning, you rolled over in bed to find Marco’s side empty. You lifted your head and looked around the room. You noticed the door to the bathroom was closed and it dawned on you that you could hear the sound of the shower running. You smiled as you realized besides the sound of the water, you could also hear Marco humming in the shower. You laughed as you heard him break out in song. You rolled on your back and listened to him for a few minutes, before finally deciding to make some coffee. You crawled out of bed and found Marco’s purple dress shirt still on the floor. You put it on and buttoned the two middle buttons, knowing full well it showed off some of your cleavage and cut open just above your mid-thigh.

You walked to the kitchen and measured out the coffee grounds and poured water into the pot, then hit the power button. You reached into the cabinet and pulled out two mugs. You noticed you heard the water stop running. You still heard the faint sound of Marco humming and singing. You still couldn’t believe yesterday had been real. Marco had feelings for you, he had kissed you, then, well you had last night with Marco… you smiled as you thought back on the details. You were hoping for a reenactment as soon as possible. You heard the bathroom door open and were immediately broken from your daydream.

You looked at the coffee pot and noticed there was enough for two cups already brewed and quickly poured them. You returned the pot to the stream of brewing coffee and picked up your two coffee filled mugs. You walked back into the bedroom and smiled as you rounded the far side of the bed, which allowed you to see into the opened bathroom door. Marco was shaving his stubble in the mirror, wrapped only in a towel that covered his waist. His tattooed chest still glistened with water droplets as his wet hair lay messily atop his head. You walked to the bathroom doorway and leaned against it, a giant smile plastered on your face.

“I kind of liked the full stubble look.” You said.

“Oh.” Marco asked as he turned his gaze from his reflection, to over his shoulder to look at you. “Well how about half of it?” Marco asked as he set down his razor and came towards you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and rubbed his half shaved neck against your cheek. You laughed as you held the full coffee mugs away from the two of you in one hand and grabbed his arm with your free hand.

“Marco, I’ll spill the coffee!” You gently yelled.

“Coffee? Is one for me?”

“Of course.” You said with a laugh.

You handed Marco the mug and he brought it closer to his lips, still holding onto your waist with his other hand. You moved your hand to his chest and brought your coffee mug to your face. You hoped the mug covered your blush as you admired the build of the man before you. Marco’s lips parted around the rim of the mug and he smiled at you as he took a sip. As he lowered his mug, he looked down at your body and noticed what you were wearing.

“Well you win. That shirt looks better on you than me.”

“You think so?” You laughed as you played with the collar of the shirt that hung near your cleavage.

“Mhhmm.” Marco said as he took another sip. “Thanks for the coffee, babe. You make it way better than I do.” He added as he pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

You pushed against his chest as he kissed you and laughed.

“That’s because Thatch never taught you guys how to make coffee. Anyways! Finish shaving! It tickles too much!” You cried and Marco laughed in response.

Marco let go of your waist and returned to the sink. He set down his coffee mug and returned to shaving. You stayed leaning against the doorway and watched him as he finished up. Marco returned to humming as he worked. A wide smile rested upon your lips. He stopped in the middle of his razor swipe and looked over his shoulder at you once more.

“What are you smiling about? Is my performance that good?” He asked with a laugh.

“What? Oh yes, it is.”

“Hmmm… well what’s your favorite part?” He urged as his eyes narrowed studying your expression.

“Hmm…” You took another sip of coffee and studied your surroundings trying to pretend to think hard. “The outfit. The towel only. I like the look.”

“Yeah. Is that what has you smiling?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

Marco gripped the counter tighter as you took another sip of your coffee. You looked at the ground between the two of you, then scanned up his body until your eyes met.

“No.” You said as a devious grin formed on your face. “Knowing what’s underneath has me smiling.” You added with a blush as you raised your coffee mug to cover it.

You raised your eyebrows and backed out of the doorway.

“Is that so..?” Marco asked curiously.

Marco grinned at you then picked up his razor and finished shaving. You moved to sit on the bed to finish your cup of coffee. After a few minutes Marco exited the bathroom. As he entered the bedroom, still in his towel only, you set your coffee mug down on the table beside you. He jumped on the bed and rolled on top of you, where he slammed his soft lips against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands began to roam your body. You stroked Marco’s bottom lip with your tongue. His lips parted allowing you to intertwine your tongue with his. Marco’s hands started undoing the buttons of your shirt as your hands rifled through his hair.

His lips separated from yours. He looked into your (E/C) eyes warmly. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You can make coffee, taste like coffee, and you’re beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know, if I had to guess, it was the singing. I hope I get a show like that every morning.” You replied with a laugh as you pressed your lips back against his.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your front door. Your lips separated and the two of you panted as you looked towards the main room where the front door was. He looked at you and sighed.

“Marco!” A voice called.

“Coming.” He replied.

Marco climbed off of you and the bed. He quickly grabbed some boxers and a pair of pants from his closet and tossed them on under his towel. He threw the towel back in the bathroom and headed towards the doorway of the bedroom. As he did, you started to get out of bed, but Marco stopped you.

“I’ll be quick I promise.” Marco whispered sweetly.

Marco, kissed your forehead and walked out of the room, cracking the door behind him. As he headed towards the front door, you laid back against the pillows in the bed and decided to wait for him. A smile grew upon your lips as you hoped every morning going forward would be like this, except without a neighborly interruption. Marco opened the front door and you heard him gasp.

“Cat Viper? What are you doing here?” He asked.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece fluff #marco x y/n #marco x you #marco x reader #marco one piece #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #one piece fan fiction #one piece

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oblivionsdream · 3 months

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Hey @oblivionsdream !

I have 2 questions - bear with me…

As you know, I love your work, but have only just recently started actively engaging with it.

I actually first came across you and your Jester x knight OC’s at least a year or two ago, when a fellow DinLuke shipper tagged it with #dinluke, so it showed up on my feed. If you aren’t into Star Wars and are unfamiliar with it - that’s the romantic pairing between Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) and Luke Skywalker.

For a while, I actually thought that it was a medieval DinLuke au because there are quite a few fanarts exploring that ship in different universes (including ours) and different timelines, etc.

One of the things that lent credence to this idea was the fact that the king looks so much like the Jedi, Quinlan Vos.

The characters do also closely match the personalities that a lot of the fandom have collectively given Din and Luke on tumblr - like Luke actually being a feral mischievous gremlin underneath his serene Jedi facade, and Din actually being the more composed (and often lovingly exasperated) of the two.

It was a surprise when I looked more into it and realised that they are original characters, completely unrelated to DinLuke and Star Wars as a whole.

So I guess I’m just curious what was the inspiration behind the Jingly Menace and his steadfast, taciturn knight? Was it a song or a meme or just watching a medieval show and during a scene with a jester, you had a sudden burst of creative juices like “Eureka! Pretty jester x hot knight!”

Sorry if you’ve already answered this and I’ve just missed it while scrolling through your page.

My other question (this I know has been queried to JM himself but he nervously evaded the question) when JM is shown crying in one of the first pictures you posted of him, what was the actual reason that you had in mind behind it? Was it just simply because his attempts to get the hot mysterious knights attention had thus far been unsuccessful (from his perspective anyway) and he succumbed to a private moment of vulnerability?

Every time I look at it, I’m dying to know!

Anyway, love you! Hope the JM comic is still on the horizon at some point - coz I would buy and read the crap out of it!

Hey there!

I honestly had no idea what DinLuke is though I've seen the tags. My knowledge of Star Wars comes from whatever I have absorbed against my will being online and when my best friend made me watch the prequels a few years ago 😂

So Jester solely came to be because I've loved jesters for many years at this point. I just find them fun but there's never enough content for them out there so I just wanted to make my own oc. I also just love trickster characters- anything fae like or I always adored Loki in Norse mythology so he's very based into those kind of mischievous vibes and humor.

Augustine was purely accidental. I saw some Tumblr post about a knight or maybe it was about a jester and a knight (I no longer remember) so I thought it would be funny to doodle Jester with a random knight being a menace asking him about his big sword. Augustine was never supposed to be a character. But then I just kept coming up with other ideas for Jester and this random knight whose face he never saw and whelp here we are.

Soooo the crying. It was definitely a private moment no one else was supposed to witness. Part of something I find interesting with playing with Jester's character is the idea that sometimes the seemingly happiest and funniest people are also the saddest but they just cover it up with a smile. His backstory before coming to the castle is still something that affects him but also he feels lonely at court. He constantly craves the validation of attention he didnt really get as a kid and is constantly surrounded by people but also he feels very lonely in court. He is in a strange place of being neither noble but also not quite a commoner/servant. Nobility will look down on him and not take him serious because he's just a silly guy but the servants are wary to get too close because of his close relationship with the king and the fact that he technically has a higher status as Court Jester. He is one of Monty's closest confidantes but his own secrets keep him from being fully honest with his king. It's a strange place of feeling alone in the middle of a crowded court where everyone sees his silly jester persona and make up but no one sees beneath it.

I still hope to make a comic! Just trying to find the time to get all my ideas in order. Thanks for liking my silly guys!

#foolknight #jesters a bit angsty #something something about jester hiding behind the mask of his persona while augustine wears an actual mask #thanks for the ask!

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hyatoro · 1 year

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Hello! Firstly, i LOVE your writing! It's so nice to read and it's very enjoyable. This is also my first ask with you. Unfortunately I am not too sure whether this counts as an outline or a headcannon (from my understanding headcannons are about the character itself and outlines are more like headcannons for the scenario but im not sure??? maybe this is a outline???). No worries if you don't to of course!

Anyway, may I have an NSFW about Hwang Minso spending his heat with reader? Especially if it's just really sweet and fluffy in a way. I think he deserves the tenderness, y'know? Bonus if the affection is like a warm blast of sunshine on a dreary day. (I imagine, Alpha reader is being sweet and fluffy and just really gentle but the unwavering attention and tenderness is overwhelming for the guy and so sweet it burns in a way. I want the guy to be overwhelmed by it. I imagine he's begging for more and more even if he's overstimulated though reader would stop in a heartbeat if he needed them to)

Again, no pressure!

Headcanons are just fast fun facts with no real timeline in mind. The scenario “outlines” are basically what I’ve been doing where it’s a scenario, but I don’t put in the full effort of making it a fic even if it may seem like one.

The definitions are loose as hell and I tend to just write what I want. The two reasons why I have the outline distinction is because I don’t need the pressure of cranking out a fully polished work and it also shows who reads my rules. Thank you by the way for asking!

The writing below probably leans more towards full blown fic but the difference is that I would’ve gone into a lot more detail for one instead of an ‘outline’.

Onto the actual content!

Hwang Minsu

The man couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far. It all started with a chance encounter where he met you. The light of his life, and the reason why he evolved from the mindless zombie he was.

You accepted him into your life. Even after you caught him pulling your empty can out of the recycling. Even when you were initially weirded out, you gave him another chance.

You’d even asked him out. On a date! And then you asked if he wanted to date you too!

Honestly he questioned it a bit, scared that it was all some sort of sick joke life was playing on him. But you showed him consistency and proved yourself reliable, not that he had any doubts in you as a person. You were perfect.

It was amazing, having schedules that were similar. The two of you took to the nights like it was your own kingdom and every night with you was memorable.

His favorite so far was the time you two went to karaoke. You watched him with adoration, a sight he had to familiarize himself with, as he sang his heart out badly. He knew he wasn’t a great singer and it didn’t faze you one bit. You were just happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so in front of you.

And when you pulled him into your lap, rewarding him with kisses as you chose your next song, he knew there was no turning back for him. Not when you were all that was ahead.

Now here he was, opening the door to you. Well, a giant pile of your clothes and blankets hiding your face. But you were behind it all.

He shuffled out of the way and let you in, catching any garments that fell to the ground behind you. His eyes widened however when you dropped everything unceremoniously to the ground.

“Just arrange everything how you want it, baby. Let me know if you need help.”

The ugly face he made as he held back tears made you laugh affectionately, stepping towards him to cradle his face gently and kiss his forehead. His face got even more scrunched up as he placed his hands on yours, holding them there.

Once he got over that surge of emotions he enlisted your help in making his nest, the most elaborate he’d ever made in his life. Considering what had happened when around the time he started to get more intense heats he never really had the guidance nor the chance to go all out.

You help him arrange everything so that it’s cozy but roomy enough to fit two people. His mattress was on the floor so it made everything easier.

As he got comfortable you left the apartment and he sat up, panicking a little wondering where you were going. But you quickly returned with a bunch of food, drinks, and other supplies for his heat. His face scrunched again as he pouted, almost telling you that you didn’t have to, but the look on your face stops him. Instead, he opens his arms and you crawl into his nest, kissing his cheeks as you two lay down together.

He’s content to lay in your arms as you fall asleep, awaiting for the wave to come crashing. He sleeps easily so you’re more than welcome to watch TV or scroll through your phone. All he needed at that moment was your warmth and scent.

When he wakes up he’s burning and he’s half-expecting you to not be there. For this all to have been some sort of sick dream that his heat-addled mind concocted. But you’re there. As real as ever, and he whines loudly when he buries himself into your neck, grinding on you.

You stir awake easily enough and your mind slowly catches up with the fact that your boyfriend is in heat. When you finally realize what’s happening you get up and immediately get to work. Your hand slides under his baggy t-shirt, caressing his burning skin as he whines even more. When you help him out of it you don’t leave a spot untouched, for which he is grateful for.

Then you palm him through his pants and he cries out, already begging you for more. To hurry up and get rid of all the clothes on both of you. Ever the kind partner, you oblige.

He’s panting and spread out on the mattress, surrounded by both of your belongings.

His scent is the strongest it’s ever been and you pounce on him, kissing him senseless as your nose welcomes the pleasant notes of passionfruit. He’s so lovely under your touch, moaning and whining for you, hips constantly bucking up for more.

Despite how much his body naturally prepared itself you still reach for your supplies, adding more lube to his hole. His eyes practically turn into hearts when he sees you stroking your alpha cock with even more lube.

His hole fluttered and his cock twitched as he shifted his hips closer to you in an attempt to put you inside.

Ever merciful, you test him with a few fingers, and he mewls at the way you spread them, feeling how you stretch his pussy like that. But he’s impatient and tells you to please stop teasing him. You’re not, but you can understand where he’s coming from. You mentally note to show him what teasing really feels like another day.

Thanks every being in existence and every moment in history for how it led to the moment where you finally shove it in. Yeah, he’s dramatic.

Instantly clings to you. His hands grasp at your back and you’re grateful he keeps his nails short as he scratches your back to fuck him harder.

He needs the first one hard and fast, he explains. And you listen. Your precious little omega deserves the world during his heat.

His cries fill the small apartment as he cums quickly, spurting out white ropes in between you. And just as fast as he came he tells you to keep going. You’re still good to go so you keep it up.

You guys spend the next few hours fucking on every surface in the apartment until you end back up on the mattress, where his legs shake and he’s got cum dripping from both his cock and pussy. When he tries to ask for more, you chuckle and shake your head, telling him that he can barely move and that it’s time for rest.

You use what’s left of your own energy cleaning him up and changing the heavily soiled sheets to get him comfortable, urging him to sit up to eat and drink before falling back asleep.

Despite having asked for more, he was more than content, absolutely satisfied on all fronts. His red butt and bruised hips were neat little reminders of the mess you two made.

When you finish cleaning up from that first bout of his heat you rejoin him in the nest, peppering kisses all over his face until he sighs happily into your neck again. Because you were content and calm your scent was too, and it worked wonders in relaxing his muscles as he melted into you.

He fell back asleep, amazed that he knew you’d be there for him when he woke up again.

#Sub!yandere #dom!reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #dom reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #x reader #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha reader #Hwang Minsu #nightshift!yandere

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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Jeff is one of my favorite characters and I think we should start a post of all our favorite Jeff headcanons. He and Freak get left out in almost every Eddie-centric fic I read, with his "best friend" being either Gareth or Chrissy, and I'm tired of it. Jeff is wonderful. Here's my hc's:

- Jeff and Eddie have been best friends since middle school. They started CC and Hellfire together.

- they went to the Snowball together and rigged the bubble machine to spew bubbles during the slow dance songs. The dance had to end early and Jeff and Eddie never got caught

- Jeff's parents loves Eddie. They used to have sleepovers at each other's place almost every weekend.

- Jeff was the first person Eddie came out to. Jeff tried to be surprised and "that's great, man, thanks for telling me!" But Eddie saw right through that.

- Eddie is afraid of geese and spiders. Jeff thinks this is fucking hilarious.

- post-Vecna, Jeff is the one Eddie reconnects with first. Eddie tells him everything, despite the NDAs and Steve's warnings. Jeff believes him, because he knows there's wacky shit going on in Hawkins, and he's seen Eddie's wounds.

- they have that kind of friendship that nothing can break. Even if they don't see or talk to each other for years, because Life Happens and people lose touch, they'll always have part of themselves carved out for their best friend.

Ok, that's all I got for now, and sorry for the long ask! I just love Jeff so much and he (and Freak, too, because Freak gets ignored because of fatphobia) deserves just as much love and attention as Gareth gets.

What are your Jeff and Eddie headcanons?

I am loving this Jeff love and your headcanons, thank you so much for sending this to me!!! <3

I think with Unnamed Freak things are a bit different bc, yaknow, he doesn't have a name. For me at least that makes me hesitant to write about him so I don't wanna go as far as to say it's all bc he's fat (even though I'm not gonna deny that that probably also plays a part in how popular he is in this fandom urgh). Anyway, yes this fandom certainly does Jeff dirty. I think it's this gross combination of racism and people copying a lot from already existing stories, characterizations and headcanons without much critical thinking of their own (which baffles me, if you're creative enough to write a story please use that creativity for some originality ffs). Anyway, this is gonna turn into a rant again can you tell I'm still annoyed? so let's turn to something more positive now, like my headcanons for our beloved Jeff:

He was the first person in Hawkins (after Wayne obviously) that Eddie got close to. For Jeff it was kinda the same, being a black, nerdy boy in this town had been very isolating for him and Eddie was his first real friend.

Unnamed Freak made their duo into a trio a bit later. All the others in the group (including Gareth) were Eddie's "lost little sheepies" who he sought out to protect. This means that Jeff and Unnamed Freak are the only people who don't borderline worship Eddie but see him (and love him) for who he is including all his flaws. They're also the only ones not afraid to call him out on his bullshit.

Jeff's mom is really cool. Her name is Pauline and she's not like Jeff at all (she was a cheerleader in high school). Despite their differences they love each other a lot. (Jeff's mom is actually heavily featured in one of the fics I wrote so I got her all fleshed out lmao)

He has two little twin sisters. They're friends with Erica, one of them is one of her friends we meet in the mall in s3. He has this typical hate-love relationship with his sisters: they fight a lot, but at the end of the day, he would die for them.

HE'S BISEXUAL

While he can't wait to get out of Hawkins and to a place that'll be more accepting of him, he doesn't want to move too far away from his family.

He's the most loyal friend in the world, 100% a ride-or-die kinda guy

While he does love metal a lot, his guilty pleasure is Tina Turner

Tell me all your Jeff headcanons i wanna hear more about him!

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #stranger things

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panjakes · 1 year

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Hii I literally read all your svt reactions and imagines. I love them especially as a 💁🏾‍♀️. Can I request a wonwoo imagine. It can be anything smutish, fluff or angst I’m done💕

Thank you for loving and reading my work🫶🏼

Wonwoo sighs rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He was playing sims on your laptop and your sims were pissing him off by not following the plot he made for them.

“Babe your sims are stupid. Especially the guy. He’s really hard headed” he says shaking his head. You giggle putting the fresh cup of tea next to him on the desk

“You do know the guy is based off you right?” You ask picking up one of the kittens you just adopted

“Really? No wonder he looks familiar” Wonwoo says squinting causing you to giggle again

“I’ve already told you I made us sim characters” you say sitting on your bed playing with the baby kitten

“You did I just forgot I’m sorry sweetheart” he says sipping from the cup of tea

Wonwoo paused the game to look at you. He watched as you put the kitten on two legs and made it dance. Clicking your tongue and singing it a song. Wonwoo smiled chuckling lowly to himself

“My name is baby cat and I like to dance” you sing wiggling it’s little body. It looked over at wonwoo before letting out a small “meow”

“So what’re we going to eat for dinner?” He asks

“Uh sleep. I didn’t think you were staying so I was gonna just go to bed” you say putting the cat on the bed allowing it to get comfortable on one of the pillows

“I told you stop going to bed without eating. What do you want to eat?” He asks turning to the computer and continues the game

“Can we go get barbecue? Please!?” You ask excitedly

“We can get whatever you want sweetheart” he says never taking his eyes off the bright screen

“Yay! Ou! What am I going to where?! Babe! Skirt or jeans!?” You shout from your closet

“Jeans!” He shouts back

“But I want to wear a skirt” you say pouting looking at a baby blue skirt

“Well wear the skirt” he says

“I don’t know” you mumble but he heard you

“Does it matter? Your outfit is just gonna end up on the floor anyway” he says making you peek out the closet smirking at him

“What you trynna say?” You ask wiggling your eyebrows. He looks over at you before slightly blushing and looking back at the screen

“N-nothing like that! You just have a habit of throwing your clothes on the floor” he says scratching his head

“Awww you want to see me with my clothes off!!” You say running over to him pulling at his cheeks

“Geesh Yn! I did not mean it like that” he says chuckling

“Yeah yeah yeah what ever you say” you say smirking and walking back to the closet.

After another 20 minutes of searching for something to wear, you get dressed and were walking out the door.

Instead of driving or taking a can, you and wonwoo walk seeing as it wasn’t that far from your apartment.

Wonwoo smiled over at you as you ramble about the things you were going to eat once you reached to place.

“And we have to grab some beef for baby kitten and I want Ddukbokki and some dumplings-I hope I’m not Being greedy” you say mumbling looking off to the side

Wonwoo chuckles before putting a hand on top of your head running his hand through your braids that weren’t in the claw clip

“Get you some food to go too because I know you’ll forget to eat tomorrow” he says

“Hey!! It’s not my fault! I’m a very busy girl” you say crossing your arms as you reach the restaurant doors

“I know sweetheart” wonwoo says opening the door for you and you go in requesting a table.

After five minutes of waiting you both were seated and you immediately order because you Already know what you want.

Wonwoo sat quietly watching as you tell your waiter the things you wanted.

“And, babe you want a water?” You ask

“A waters fine” he says nodding

“A lemonade for me and water for him” you say ordering for him. Wonwoo didn’t mind, he likes the fact that you know what he likes.

While waiting for your food you and wonwoo make conversation about your job and the new album seventeen just dropped

“Oh yeah and my favorite song is I don’t under but I love you! When I tell you Hoshi CARRIED that song! And the sped up version on tik tok?!?! Oh I love that song” you say stuffing a spoon full of rice into your mouth

Wonwoo couldn’t help but chuckle as you expressed your excitement about the album.

“Oh shit I’m rambling again, I’m sorry is there anything you want to talk about baby?” You ask flipping the meat on the tiny grill

“No I’m fine sweetheart, I like listening too you” he says smiling. You return the smile and nod.

You continue to talk about everything you wanted to talk to him about. He nods every now and then letting you know he was listening.

As always wonwoo just listens but then gets distracted as he starts to give you a one over. Staring at your wide brown eyes as you get excited talking about how you wanted to go shopping for your new kitten.

Eyes dropping down to your cute button nose that was shinning from the pink highlight you applied before leaving the house.

Then his eyes dropping down to his favorite feature. Your lips. Your plump brown lips shinning from the brown and pink gloss you wore.

“Maybe I’ll get her a- why are you staring at me?” You say stopping your sentence

“Your just beautiful” he says leaning over to kiss your cheek.

You look over at him with a shocked but goofy look on your face

“Well thank you!” You say before turning and pecking his lips. Now it was his turn to give you a goofy shocked look

“Your so goofy Yn” he says chuckling

“What!? You started it” you say digging back into your food.

Wonwoo chuckles before grabbing your hand under the table.

You look over at him smiling as you grab his too.

“I love you” he mouths

“I love you too” you mouth back with food still in your mouth

“Ewww Yn!” He says giggling making you giggle too

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen ambw #black kpop fans #blackfemreader #kpop x black reader

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