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followmybadreligion · 12 days ago

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“have you ever heard of following basic fucking instructions?”

joe goldberg, your sexy, devoted, deadly husband.

you always loved when he got that deeply assertive, almost father-like voice.

he was careful not to abuse it, knowing good and well it’s effect on you. it was almost like a sure-fire way to get what he wanted from, though.

won’t stop asking questions, like what he was doing, or where he was going all the time? all it took was one simple “stop pushing it,” before you let it go.

won’t stop snooping around the house, looking through things trying to try make sense of him? a simple “you’re testing my patience” and you were right back in line.

you see, it’s his job to protect you. that’s what he prides himself on. as long as he’s providing for you and taking care of you how you like, than nothing else should matter.

so what if he’s taken a more…hands-on approach to addressing your problems? any good husband would. who would sit around and watch their sweet girl suffer?

the only thing that matters to him is that you two are together and you’re completely and totally happy with that. any forks in the road and he’s immediately figuring out how to fix it.

but, like he’s said once before, he’s always been attracted to very smart women.

sure, in the beginning you were overjoyed when he’d send you to the nail shop for a much-needed refill. ecstatic when he’d give you his card and let you take the whole day to shop.

but slowly and surely, you’d notice how each time you came back, he looked so disheveled and on edge. you’d smell the faint smell of industrial-grade bleach, as well. sometimes, you’d even catch on to certain things that’d gone missing. a vase, a painting, a rug…simply disappeared like it’d never been there.

naturally, you feared the worst.

maybe he was cheating. you weren’t a stranger to infidelity. it tainted many connections before. who’s to say it couldn’t be present within your marriage too?

all the nights his side of the bed went cold��all of the seemingly fruitless errands. had the clues really been in your face all that time?

you tried to let the worries be just that— worries. joe loved you. spent so much of his money, his time, his fucking energy on you. no way he was unfaithful. it just wasn’t in your man to be that way.

the golden hoop earring you found just outside your bedroom door spoke differently, though.

you didn’t confront him with it immediately. no. joe was too much of a smooth talker for you to do that. one sentence too strong and out came that voice, rattling you in like only he knew how to.

“there’s nobody else,” he profess, eyes big, bulging, and desperate like those of a wounded lover, “what do i have to do to convince you of that?”

instead, you decided to take some time away. you packed a bag— just enough clothes for a weekend at a hotel outside the city. enough time to think, get your head on straight, and fully decide what to do.

you left a good hour after he went for work at the bookstore. just in case he forgotten something. then, you waited until you checked in to tell him about it. too afraid that he’d try and change your mind.

“joe, i need a weekend to myself. while i’m gone you can think of a way to explain away whoever you were fucking in our bed. don’t call.”

it was more rude than you’d ever been to him, but a big part of you didn’t care. he had the nerve to cheat in your fucking house? to hell with him.

you turned your phone to silent, muted his contact, and tried to clear your mind. took a nice bath, ordered some room service, even journaled for a bit. none of it soothed the pain though.

you’d been cheated on before, sure, but it was something about him cheating that really unnerved you. joe, the man who threw himself at you for months, chased you down relentlessly, and treated you like a princess…betraying you the entire time?

while initially you were angry, that anger transformed to sadness at the drop of a dime. seeing the storm of messages he sent, begging and pleading for you to hear him out, only made it worse.

he was still trying to manipulate you? even now? maybe he didn’t care for you as much as you thought.

you didn’t respond. only read the messages. part of you wanted him to see that you read it, too. wanted him to know how badly he’d fucked up. that you wouldn’t come back easily. that he’d seriously damaged so much.

knowing that you were seeing his messages only seemed to spur him on too. paragraphs and paragraphs poured in. some of him refuting, but most of him demanding to know where you were. you hadn’t been away from him for a single trip since the two of you were wed, so you expected the freak out. if anything, it made you feel a bit better too. you relished in seeing him so cut up at the ideation that he’d lost you. even better that it was all his fault.

but this time, you made the grave mistake. you fell asleep before you could read the rest of what he was saying.

“you’ve always been too curious for your own good. trust me, cheating is the last thing that i’d do. i know our trust has been shaky, but it’s alright. i’ll fix that. i’ll do whatever it takes. but you’re not fucking leaving.”

“do you know all this shit i’ve done for you?”

“all that i will do for you?”

“why are you so ready to leave a man that loves you?”

“i’m on my way now. think this talk will go over better in person, my love.”

the entire ride there, he’s cursing himself for not catching that dumb bitch’s earring. it’s alright though. by the time he’s through with you, you’ll never question him again. if he has to spell out his faith with his tongue a million times, that’s just what he’ll do.

with joe in the world, you’ll never truly get away from the man who loves you.

#YOU #joe goldberg #yandere!boyfriend #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #obsessed #he’s so yummy #he’s also #not cheating #as devoted as they come #smut #suggestive #you season 5 #you series

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shadesoflsk · 1 year ago

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YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it.

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?”

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now?

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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sugoi-and-spice · 1 year ago

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Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess.

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games.

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming.

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

#vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #vox x oc #smut #spice writes

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 months ago

Note

Helloo !! How was your day ?? <3

I was wondering if you could write something about a sneezy medic? I have terrible dust mite allergy and I can’t stop sneezing all day, like 5 times a day I get an attack and sneeze 20 time in a row ToT (also I have a dad sneeze which doesn’t help). I’m so embarrassed about it v.v

How would 141 react?

Achoo!

Pairing: Task Force 141 x Medic!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Allergies, lots of sneezing, teasing, mild language, fluff, concerned Price, men being menaces.

Author's Note: Oh no, love, that sounds miserable! Sneezing fits like that must be exhausting, but I bet the 141 would have plenty to say about it. Hope this makes you feel a little better!

Summary: You’ve always had terrible dust mite allergies, and unfortunately, that means sneezing fits are a regular part of your life. The boys react in their own ways—ranging from teasing, concern, and utter indifference.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The day had barely started when you felt that telltale tickle in your nose. A familiar sense of dread settled over you as your breath hitched. Not again. You quickly grabbed a tissue from your pocket, barely managing to brace yourself before—

"Achoo! ACHOO! Hh’CHH! Hh’NGTCH!"

It came in rapid succession, each sneeze shaking your entire body. You managed to catch them in the tissue, but there was no stopping the fit once it started. Your head snapped forward over and over, each sneeze loud and forceful, as if your very soul was trying to escape through your nose.

John Price, who had been sitting at the table drinking his morning coffee, sighed heavily. "Bloody hell, love. That sounds miserable. You taken anything for it?"

You sniffled, dabbing at your nose. "I did, but it never fully works. Dust mites are evil."

Price rubbed his temples and set his mug down with a sigh. "We need to sort that out. Can't have our medic sneezing their lungs out every damn day."

"Not like I can help it," you muttered, rubbing at your nose, already feeling another sneeze creeping up.

Across the room, Ghost barely spared you a glance from where he was cleaning his knife. At first, he didn’t even react. But after the *tenth* sneeze in a row, he finally raised a brow.

"You done?" he asked flatly.

You barely had time to shake your head before another sneeze overtook you. Ghost simply sighed and continued sharpening his blade, waiting it out with patience that somehow made you feel even more self-conscious.

"Goddamn, that's a *lot* of sneezing," Soap said from the couch, grinning like an absolute menace. "You always sneeze like that?"

You groaned, rubbing at your eyes. "Unfortunately, yes. It comes in fits. Usually twenty sneezes in a row."

Soap let out a loud, delighted laugh. "Twenty?! Jesus, that's impressive! We should start taking bets!"

Gaz, sitting beside him, smirked. "I got twenty-two sneezes today. You in, Johnny?"

Soap leaned forward, looking you over like a man studying the odds at a horse race. "Nah, I'm thinking eighteen. Feels like an eighteen-sneeze kind of day."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "You guys are the worst."

Gaz chuckled and tossed you a pack of tissues. "Hey, at least we're making it fun. Bless you, by the way. In advance."

You snatched the tissues with a glare, but the next sneeze cut off whatever retort you had.

Price shook his head, clearly unimpressed. "You're all children," he muttered before turning back to you. "Seriously, though, we need to get you something for this. Air purifiers, antihistamines—hell, maybe one of those allergy shots."

You gave him a tired smile. "That’d be nice, but I’ve kind of accepted my fate."

Price huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. He muttered something under his breath about how "his medic shouldn’t be suffering like this" before pulling out his phone, likely to research solutions himself.

Meanwhile, Ghost continued watching you silently. The moment you slumped in exhaustion after the latest fit, he got up without a word and disappeared into the kitchen. A minute later, he came back and placed a steaming cup of tea on the table beside you.

You blinked at it in surprise. "Ghost…?"

"Drink," he said simply before returning to his corner like nothing had happened.

Soap whistled. "Aw, big scary Ghost taking care of our poor sneezy medic. Never thought I'd see the day."

Ghost shot him a glare that could have frozen hell over, but it only made Soap laugh harder.

By the time your sneezing finally subsided, you were left exhausted, nose red, and head pounding. But despite the teasing and judgmental stares, you had to admit… having these guys around made it a little less miserable. Even if they were menaces.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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mysteryshoptls · 2 months ago

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Ruggie Bucchi Shared Lines

Tutorial: You'll miss out if you just stick around here. Hurry, let's go.

Level Up 1 / Buddy Level Up: Sheeheehee, ain't this nice!

Level Up 2: What a weirdo, tryin' to take care of me like this...

Level Up 3: Guess I'll try ta get even stronger.

Level Max: Right now, I feel like I can do anythin'. Guess it ain't a bad thing to put in a little effort once in a while. Hehehe.

Vignette Level Up: Ain't you a good-natured sucker～ It ain't my problem if it all backfires on ya. Well, maybe I can help ya depending on what it is.

Spell Level Up: I always thought my magic'd never amount to nothin' good... Looks like I can get by.

Friendship Level Up: You wanna know if I’ll come back again? Hey, ’s long as it’s free, I’ll come anytime! And hey, if I get some snacks out of coming here too, that’d be even better. Shishishi.

Friendship Level Max: I gotta make sure to thank ya for always invitin’ me. Oh right, let me know if any of your furniture breaks. Not sayin’ I’ll do it for free, but I can give you a friend’s discount to fix it.

Uncapped: Looks like I'm still maturin'. Guess I gotta keep ya around a little longer, huh.

Groovification: See, only crafty folk can survive in this world. It'll be good for you to stick around me, too.

Lesson Select 1: There ain't a class on hagglin'? Guess I shouldn't've expected that from some hoity-toity mage school.

Lesson Select 2: You don't gotta put too much thought into it. Ain'tcha super diligent.

Lesson Select 3: Which one're you pickin'? I'm def gonna pick out somethin' that'll be useful for survival.

Lesson Start: Let's go, time to study!

Lesson Finish: Whew, gotta make sure I don't get left behind.

Battle Start: This is my territory!

Battle Won: Seems like I’ll be having some delicious dinner!

Trouble 1: C'mon, I totally was gonna end it at just the right moment～

Trouble 2: I woulda been fine if we kept goin’ for a little longer, though?

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” Obviously, I’m gonna be workin’! Today, I’m at a cake shop, and tomorrow I’m waitin’ tables at a restaurant… The holidays are coming up, so 'tis the season for a ton of high-payin’ temp jobs to fill my pockets, too! Shishishi!

Birthday Login Message 1: Today's the day I've been waiting for: my birthday! You got me a present, riiight? ...Wait, huh? You really got one for me? ...Uhhh, I really can't with how straight-forward that was. Well hey, thanks. Hehehe.

Birthday Login Message 2: Thanks for celebratin’ my birthday with me! Since it’s my big day, we should go grab some grub and… Ah! Oh noooooo, this is sooooo terrible, I forgot my wallet… I guess I can’t buy… Eh, you’ll treat me? Really? Maan, it’s really great having such a generous junior like you! C'mon, let’s go, let’s go. Shishishi～

Birthday Login Message 3: Whew, you really helped me out there, carryin’ the gifts I went n’ collected from the other students ‘round campus. Eh? You helpin’ me was your gift…? Wait, wait, wait, those are two totally different things! …Oh, you were kidding. Hey, you really hurt me just now, so you gotta give me another gift to make up for it, 'kay.

Birthday Login Message 4: Thanks for the birthday wishes! Sooo, I wonder whatcha got for mee~ Handmade donuts? Uh-huuuh. Y'know, I’m pretty particular about how my donuts taste… [chomps] Huhー this’s so good…! How’d youー!? It’s almost like it came from a… Ohhh, so these are handmade donuts from a pastry shop. That makes more sense.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #twst translation

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jthealien · 5 months ago

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Unfashionable Aroace Lesbian Rates Buddy’s Outfits

I may not be qualified to do this (see reasons above) but I do like making lists.

Please note that I’m not trying to genuinely criticize any of the designs, this is all just for funsies! :3 Also my rating scale is very subjective and arbitrary.

Normal Outfit: 5.5/10

—If I'm being real it’s a little goofy,, maybe it’s the stripes

—It’s funny that this is one of his less revealing outfits, and it’s at a point where he hates Chase (having your boobs out as a metaphor for trust or something)

———

Toffee Break: 8.5/10

—I really like the gemstones and the headband, so shiny!!

—Idk I just think this one is nice

—Extra points for cat

—The chest window here was a gateway drug for him showing more skin in all the other outfits

———

We Need to Talk: 8/10

—Oh wow I like the sparkly outfit with gems/crystals who could’ve guessed

—The patterns!!

—And it’s blue!! I think he should wear other colors more often, they look good on him

———

Beach Boys: 6/10

—I mean the tattoo is pretty cool. Don’t have much else to say

—The bracelets and anklets are nice I like those

———

Dreams by Day: 9/10

—It makes me so sad that this is a one-off outfit. I love it so much.

—Like I said, he needs to wear more colors, green especially

—The earrings! Look at them!! He never misses on the jewelry tbh

—Also the scales are super neat

———

Sick Days: 9.5/10

—Guys this honestly might be my favorite outfit of his

—It ticks all the boxes of Things I Like (sparkly stuff, gemstones, feathers/birds, moons)

—I really love the gemstones below the eyes idk what is it about them

—The feather jacket with the big collar!!

—The sort of loose sheer top that fades into being opaque is also fun love that

—Something about this outfit makes him look so pretty. Is it the eye gems it seriously might be the gems (crow brain)

———

Dreams by Night: 7/10

—It’s cool, I like the sheer cape thingy

—He still has to dress up even when he’s dead and in some else’s subconscious <3 (commitment to the bit I respect it)

-(I’m not rating the tattered rag outfit in his own dream I think that’d be mean)

———

All that Glitters: 9/10

—The hairstyle really suits him, but it’s funny he changed it one (1) time and never again. (Honestly same, I never change up my hair I’m afraid of ruining it Forever)

—He kind of has the miles edgeworth cut going on, maybe that’s why I like it

—The waist cape is very pretty with the pattern (is it called a waist cape,, I don’t know fashion terms)

—Eye makeup!!!! Hell Yeah!!!!!!

—King of doing cool things one time and never again (please bring back the makeup)

———

Honor Among Thieves: 6.5/10

—eh

—Look I’m aware I’m not the target audience, I just personally think it was better with the hoodie on (that version gets an extra .5)

—The earring eats though

———

Requiem: 9/10

(Guess who just learned that there’s a 10 image per post limit on the app. I cba so we’re going imageless the last two </3)

—Devil symbolism let’s go!!!

—Love the top honestly, the web-like stuff around the cutouts is cool, and so are the thorns. (Bonus points for the thorn symbolism love that shit)

—The devil’s tail on the pants is a neat detail (pun not intended)

—The little horns! Cute!

—Might be the opposite of their intended effect but I think his fangs are really cute,, he’s so cat idk how else to explain it. I wish he had them all the time.

———

Still Waters: 9.5/10

-He’s so gorjus,,

-Listen. Ok. Something about this one makes him kind of look like a butch lesbian. Do we see the vision or am I insane.

-I really don’t have any other justification for why this one ranked so high, it’s the vibes

-Also return of the earrings!! Basically a cheat code to get me to like an outfit more

-Says something that one of my favorite outfits is the one where he’s showing the least skin (it says that I’m gay)

———

Final Ranking!!

1: Sick Days

2: Still Waters

3: Requiem

4: All that Glitters

5: Dreams by Day

6: Toffee Break

7: We Need to Talk

8: Dreams by Night

9: Honor Among Thieves

10: Beach Boys

11: Default Skin

#Take a shot every time I say something is ‘pretty’ or ‘cool’ or ‘pretty cool’#I’m normally very wordy but I’m not uh Great at describing clothes so yeah #If other people want to do their own rankings that’d be fun #cinderella boy #cinderella boy webtoon #buddy cinderella boy #j talks a lot

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suzukiblu · 6 months ago

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Day nine of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Oh, that is a really, really weird thought to be thinking, Kon recognizes, but is still pretty sure he would. Like–almost definitely would, if he even thought Tim actually wanted him to do it. Even if Tim only wanted him to do it because–because he thought his boyfriend would like it.

That is not any more normal a thought, obviously, but it makes him think about the idea of Tim telling him what to do for a girl they were sharing (or a girl Tim was sharing HIM with, but that part he tries not to think about so much), or the idea of Robin rewarding the stupidest, stubbornest version of him for “good behavior” by telling him how to get the girls on the team off, or like . . . maybe . . . like telling him what to do for . . . Bart, even, if it . . . like, if he actually . . .

Yeah, Kon thinks, biting the inside of his lip and trying not to squirm in place as Bernard gives the nipple he’s still pinching a twisting little tug; as he thinks through–what he’s thinking. Kinda. But . . . yeah, if Tim told him he should get any of those piercings because his boyfriend would be into it . . .

He’d do it, Kon realizes, and barely resists a weird urge to squeeze his thighs together.

Doesn’t so much manage to resist the urge to push his chest out a little more, though.

Bernard grins; pushes the pad of his thumb up across Kon’s nipple and then drags it back down; tilts his head and very obviously admires, like–like just that. Not his abs or his cock or his face or–just, like, the one damn nipple that he’s basically fucking teasing right now. And Tim–Tim’s just watching, looking idly appreciative but not really giving Kon anything else to go on here. Just–he knows Tim likes to watch, now, and he knows how to be something worth watching, but . . .

But it’s a little different, trying to be something he thinks Tim would wanna watch.

“Seriously,” Bernard says, and pinches the same nipple again as he glances up to flash Kon another grin. “Like, cute little pair of barbells in these pretty things? Or some nice shiny rings? To say nothing of the Prince Albert idea. Hell yeah, man, the internet would unite.”

“That’d need a different color of kryptonite at this point,” Kon says, making himself smirk back at him and–and just that. Just that, and not mentioning the TTK option because that would sound . . . he doesn’t know how that would sound, exactly. “Or a real impressive piercer, anyway.”

��Oh please, if Batman doesn't have blue K and a piercing license I will frankly die of shock,” Bernard replies with a wider grin and a laugh, shaking his head and still just, like–alternating between pinches and little tugs and twists to the same damn nipple just, over and over and like, while just . . . Kon doesn’t know, kind of just admiring either what he’s doing or how it’s affecting his body or . . . something, he guesses.

It is really hard not to squirm over that, for some reason. Like–just the attention, maybe, or how focused it is for, like, literally no reason.

“. . . technically you don't need a piercing license in New Jersey,” Tim says. “So, you know, if it ever actually came up . . ."

“Tim,” Bernard says, staring incredulously at him. “Tim, I was joking.”

“You were also not wrong,” Tim replies wryly.

“Oh my god, Tim,” Bernard says with another laugh, and Tim just looks amused.

“Undercover work gets weird,” he says with a shrug. And it’s–it is funny, Kon thinks. Like, the idea of Batman doing some weird undercover gig or whatever–that’s funny.

But . . . but if Tim were the one who . . . like, if that’s something Tim knows anything about, if it ever . . . “came up”, or whatever . . .

#timberkon #konbern #timkon #timbern #kon el #conner kent #bernard dowd #tim drake #superboy #dc robin #wip: think pink #dom/sub

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it-happened-one-fic · 2 years ago

Text

10 Seconds - Floyd

Author Notes: I'm not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun writing this. This fic was pretty much entirely inspired by a scene in chapter 111 in Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with The Red Hair). After I found out that Floyd and Obi had the same voice actor, the temptation was to great for me to resist. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Fluff/ flirtation/ romance/ kind of spoofy/ Reader does have a pushy admirer so be warned on that note

Word Count: 1890

There was something about persistent wanna-be lovers that made one nervous enough to look to even the most shady sources of help. Including Octaveinelle.

“So this young man has been bothering you for…?” Jade trailed off as he looked up from the glass he was currently polishing to where I sat, right in front of him, at the bar.

“A little over a month now, I think.” I frowned as I recounted the numerous times the Pomefiore junior in question had just ‘happened’ to be right where I would inevitably run into him.

I would be trapped there, having to interact with him and dodging his advances until I was saved by some passerby or thought up a reasonable excuse to leave.

I could’ve gone to Vil for help, considering it was one of his dorm members. But I also didn’t entirely want to put my annoyingly persistent and considerably pushy admirer through quite that much sorrow.

I did, however, want this handled, and me turning him down numerous times as politely as possible simply wasn’t cutting it. Which was why I went to Octavinelle to seek the advice of the infamous tweels. After all, they handled a lot of Azul's issues. Surely they would have advice for handling one persistent admirer.

Floyd let out a low whistle from behind me, causing me to twist slightly to glance at the young man who ought to be sweeping but was now just propped up on the broom’s handle as he shook his head, “Stubborn guy.”

His eyes found mine as a grin crossed his face, and I realized very quickly that I didn’t want to know exactly what Floyd was thinking. That wasn’t really one of his nice grins….

“Come now, Floyd. We can’t exactly blame the poor fool for being quite so smitten with our darling little Prefect, can we?” I almost grimaced at Jade’s teasing tone as I turned in time to catch his mocking, sharp-toothed smile.

“Guys,” I didn’t even bother fighting the whine that slipped into my tone. “I just want some advice. I can’t get him to go away, and I’ve already tried being blunt.”

Jade smiled in an indulgent manner down at me before a frown crossed his face, “I suppose it is rather problematic and concerning if he’s been at it this long.”

He sat the glass down with a tiny clink on the bar as he continued to ponder my plight, “You said he’s a Pomefiore student?”

I nodded, wondering exactly what Jade was thinking as Floyd slipped up next to me, propping himself on the bar, “Should I just scare him off? That’d probably do it.”

Floyd sounded perfectly willing to do just that as he looked at me with that sharp-toothed grin of his before looking towards his brother.

But he was soon frowning in confusion as Jade started to shake his head with a slight frown, “No, if he’s as determined as I fear, then I doubt that would solve the problem for little more than three days.”

That mocking smile appeared on Jade’s face again, even though he wasn’t actually looking at either me or his brother, as he continued, “Besides. Those Pomefiore boys are the schooling sort. Always flitting about in a group. If we tried aggression, he’d just come back with his friends, and that would make things more difficult for you, wouldn’t it, Prefect?”

He looked towards me as he finished, and I nodded glumly, “A squad probably would make it tougher.”

Especially since Pomefiore squads were known to be aggressive. Turning him down in front of his posse could be risky at best.

A chuckle slipped from the vice-housewarden’s lips as he smiled at me, “Now, now. There’s no need to make such a face. The solution is really quite simple, isn’t it?”

I perked up at his words, looking at him hopefully before I frowned once I noticed his grin, “What’s it gonna cost?”

The twins laughed together, their voices joining in a strange harmony that made me tense ever-so-slightly.

“Oh, it’ll be on the house this time. After all, this will be most amusing for both of us.” Jade’s words seemed to surprise Floyd as much as they did me.

Unperturbed by our obvious confusion, Jade leaned forward with an undoubtedly conspiratorial grin. Propping himself on his elbows as he gestured both of us closer with a single flick of his long fingers, “Listen closely…..”

And that was what had brought me to this moment, as I let out a quiet exhale before rounding the corner.

I didn’t even have to worry about setting the guy up. I knew exactly where he’d be.

Propped up on the wall in that careful pose he was always in when he was waiting for me to come and just ‘happen’ to bump into him.

And sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall with one arm raised so that he had me slightly caged in from the very second I rounded the corner.

“Prefect! What a surprise,” His perfectly white teeth flashed almost blindingly, and I fought not to gag at the raw amount of perfume he was wearing.

It was a good thing he hadn’t brought his posse; I probably would’ve passed out from the raw amount of perfume that would’ve been in the air.

But I smiled. Pretending to be surprised and not at all frustrated by his persistent, unwanted affections as I carefully went back through the plan that Jade had laid out in my head.

Interact with him like everything was normal while waiting until reinforcements came, and then follow those very simple directions that Jade had given.

So I waited. Awkwardly exchanging pleasantries and smiling up at the young man who now leaned increasingly closer despite how much I would like him to say far away. He was no doubt about to drop some sort of new line that was intended to sweep me off my feet but would be far more likely to make me grimace.

And right as he opened his mouth with a grin that spoke of some very misplaced confidence, I heard the exact thing I’d been waiting for.

“Shrimpy~” Floyd’s sing-song call came from behind me, and I turned so fast that I almost missed the deep frown that appeared at impressive speeds on my admirer’s face.

“Floyd!” I didn’t have to fake my joy at seeing him, though I couldn’t say the same for him considering that Floyd himself looked entirely bored as he looked towards the Pomefiore junior that now stood stiffly silent. Already frustrated by the mere presence of Floyd.

For a brief moment, I was honestly worried about how well Jade’s scheme was going to go over until Floyd’s gaze shifted and his eyes met mine. Because then there was an entire change to his person.

His gaze softened ever so slightly, and his lips twitched up in an absentminded smile as he walked over, all but cooing at me affectionately, “There you are.”

He didn’t stop until he was right next to me, looking down at me, and then I knew the moment of truth was upon us.

I could hear Jade’s amused voice in my head as I braced myself, swallowing as I recalled his words: “Ten seconds. You will need to stare into each other’s eyes for ten seconds. But that’s all it will take.”

Floyd was far calmer than I was as he slipped off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders, blocking the cool breeze that came through the open window.

His voice was quieter than usual, though still playful as he spoke, “There you go; can’t have you getting cold.” And that was my cue that we were beginning.

One.

My hand reached up to tug his oversized jacket a little closer around my body, and my hand brushed lightly against his fingers that lingered at my shoulders.

Two. Three. Four.

I twisted just a little bit more so that I could look at him better as his hand slid down my arm so that his arm was wrapped around my shoulders.

Five.

It was already getting sort of awkward to keep staring for this long into Floyd’s mismatched eyes for this long. But now I was beginning to think more about the color of his irises than the actual situation we were in.

Six. Seven.

One was a yellow color. Not a sickly yellow, but rather it was a warmer color that made me feel oddly safe considering the young man I was looking up at. The other eye was a surprisingly gentle olive that was also welcomingly familiar and spoke of how, in certain moments, Floyd himself could actually be quite gentle.

Eight. Nine.

I could feel numerous people staring at us, and I was fairly certain that one of them was definitely Jade. He was probably utterly delighted by how uniquely embarrassing this really was. Because even though I’d been prepared to feel a little self-conscious, I hadn’t been expecting to be this flustered. Especially since it was just Floyd….

Ten.

Floyd’s smile grew by just a fraction, and then he blinked, “I reckon I’ll see you later. I know you can’t miss your class. Good little student that you are~” He let go of my arm with an affectionate squeeze as he continued to look down at me. But this time with amusement in his gaze and a teasing lilt to his voice.

I swallowed down my overwhelming shyness as I looked away, blinking as I attempted to force my recovery by focusing on his teasing.

But even then, my voice wobbled as I quipped back, not quite able to look back up at him, “Unlike you, I actually have to study to keep my grades up.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I could tell he was fully grinning now, “Aww, if you ever need help, you can just ask. If you're nervous about Azul, I can help you out.”

He leaned down and into my line of sight so that he could wink at me, and I let out an exhale. Reminding myself that this was Floyd I was dealing with. Not some incredibly romantic male lead who was here to sweep me off my feet and actually be successful.

Which brought me back to my admirer, who was still standing there, staring in open-mouthed shock.

“Ex- Excuse me, I lost track of time with Floyd and really do need to get to class now,” I was still flustered enough that I stammered slightly before I flashed him an apologetic grin before I trotted off.

As I fled the scene, I passed a chuckling Jade and mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying on. Attempting to outrun the oddly shy sensation I now felt at the thought of being near Floyd and entirely missing what happened behind me as I fled the scene.

“You haven’t gotten anywhere in a month, and it only took me ten seconds.” So saying, Floyd glanced down at the Pomefiore student, who almost immediately puffed up with indignance that quickly deflated as Floyd grinned in a way that perfectly displayed his too-sharp teeth.

“You might as well just try somewhere else, ‘cause you aren’t going to be stealing Shrimpy away from me anytime soon.”

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euseokz · 1 year ago

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@ eunseok — you should still only have eyes for me, not anyone else . . cws : cheating . toxic relationship (jealousy mentions) . semi-public sex . degradation . use of nicknames (whore, slut) . oral (f) . unprotected sex . cheerleader! reader . college! au . wc : 1.8k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i blame my 🐾 anon and ads ( @bbina ) for this . . . a bit different than my usual style i think but i do still really like this tbh !!

BASKETBALL PLAYER! EUNSEOK who, even if you broke up because he wanted to, still feels some sort of twisted sense of possessiveness over you.

it had been a few weeks already, and after your big fight that led to you separating you hadn’t shared anymore than annoyed glances with each other. you obviously couldn’t completely avoid him — you went to college in the same place, shared some classes, and worst of all you were a cheerleader while he was a basketball player, so at least during practice and games you were forced to be in the same space. at first the tension between you two was palpable, but now it had eased down a bit. people knew not to mention the other to either of you, and although no one truly knew why you broke up — the whole problem having been, ironically, eunseok’s jealousy issues — they knew it was bad.

you had moved on though, and you were glad that eunseok didn’t pester you anymore, that you didn’t think of him anymore… you were finally happy — until he decided to come back.

you had been going out with sungchan for a while, you met him shortly after breaking up with eunseok and you two just connected easily and fast, your relationship recent but probably already more sincere than the one you shared with eunseok for all those years. sungchan was nice, caring, loving, and best of all, didn’t flip if you ever even looked at another guy. he was everything eunseok tried but couldn’t be, and that was enough for you, what you needed in that moment if you did jump into a new relationship.

with all of that in mind, and with that thought process circling your brain in a loop, you wondered why you were in that exact second still listening to eunseok’s angry rambling.

“it was fucking distracting, no one was paying attention and our strategy went down the drain”

“so i can’t support my boyfriend now?”

“you’re dating him!? the new guy of all people? i thought you’d be better than that”

“and i thought even your jealousy had an end, but apparently not” you argued back, tired of eunseok’s rambling “i wasn’t distracting everyone, i was distracting you, and you played a shit game because you can’t bear the thought of me being with someone else even now!”

he finally seemed to shut up after that, his expression surprised, taking him a few seconds to mutter out a low “you don’t know what you’re talking about”, that somehow only proving your point even more.

you groaned eunseok’s name, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, annoyed you had even allowed yourself to be in that situation — arguing with your ex-boyfriend in an empty locker room, everybody else outside, ready to leave for the night. “let’s just leave it at this, i’m tired of your bullshit” and with that you started turning around, ready to also leave, before he spoke up again.

“does he fuck you better than i do? is that it?” eunseok asked, his cocky smile suddenly curling his lips upwards as you started to turn around, looking at him with a frown, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips ever so slightly parted in pure shock at his rapid turn of emotions.

“that’d be impossible, only i know your body well enough, only i can fuck as many orgasms out of you as i want”

“shut up eunseok, seriously. you’re crossing the li-”

“i bet he can’t even make you cum, that’s why you’re all pissed off with me”

you sighed, finally turning around to leave definitely before eunseok grabbed your wrist.

“i can make you remember what you’re missing, maybe that will make you finally open your eyes” he continued, a sly smirk still resting on his expression, his eyes glistening with lust as he looked you up and down.

“you’re insane”

“maybe, but you still haven’t left so how different from me can you truly be”

“i’m with sungchan now, move on” you said through your teeth, almost as a threat, finally pushing your wrist out of eunseok’s grip.

“being with someone else has never stopped anyone from finally having a good fuck”

“i’m not a cheater”

“no, you’re only looking somewhere else for what your goody-two-shoes boyfriend can’t give you”

you sighed once more, asking yourself for the nth time why you couldn’t just leave, why you were still there, why eunseok still had such an effect on you.

“just be honest with yourself, he can’t fuck you like i do, no one can”

“i never said that”

“but you also didn’t deny it”

eunseok took a step closer, suddenly all too close to you, his breath fanning against your face. “let me remind you of how good we can be together, angel” he whispered, only for you, eyes locking with yours as you bit your lip in indecision, the old nickname he used on you all throughout your relationship only affecting you even more.

you were sure you had moved on, so why was eunseok’s proposal so tempting? why did you feel so inclined to accept it? why did you kiss him back when his lips pressed against yours? why couldn’t you just leave? all questions you couldn’t answer, allowing him to push you into the nearest shower stall and lock the door behind you two, the space tight but enclosed enough, eunseok’s kisses fervent throughout the whole process.

“are you gonna let me fuck you? uh? gonna act like my little whore again?” he asked breathlessly, eyes focused on yours as he fiddled with the button on your jeans, undoing it and pushing the heavy fabric down, dropping it to your feet.

“we have to be quick” you reminded, just as out of breath, trying to repress your guilt by not doing anything to help eunseok, letting him handle everything, take off your clothes the way he wanted and twist you around whichever way he pleased — as if that made you any less blameworthy.

eunseok kneeled down, face near your crotch, breath fanning over your exposed cunt and making you inhale a deep breath. “i’ve missed her, you know? no one’s like her” he commented, talking about your pussy, completely taking off one of the legs of your pants so he could move you more freely, propping your leg over his shoulder so he could get a better angle. eunseok peeked his tongue out, lapping up your cunt in a quick swipe, feeling how you tasted and humming pleased against your folds, closing his eyes momentarily before looking up at you. “still tastes just as good as i remember”. you moaned softly, forcing yourself to keep your whines in when eunseok started properly flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud attentively, leaving you soaking wet, your hole clenching around nothing.

you had forgotten how good he made you feel, this a mere sample of the things he had done to you while you were still together. as much a you’d like to not have to admit it, he was better than sungchan, and you blamed that knowledge as the sole factor that allowed you to let him keep going, to let him suck and lick at your cunt so messily, dragging an orgasm out of you more easily than anyone ever had, all because he did know what buttons to push to make you come undone for him. that was eunseok’s problem, he knew you too well, he knew that didn’t matter how much you resented him you’d never be able to tell him no — even if you had convinced yourself you could — and things were the same for him, he’d never deny you anything, even after you had been broken up.

“i wanna fuck you properly” eunseok announced, your slick mixed with his saliva glistening on his lips and chin as he came up, leaning in for another kiss, hands cupping your cheeks and keeping you in place as he sucked on your bottom lip, tongue flicking over it and pushing into your mouth, pressing against yours.

and of course, you let him do whatever he wanted, even if you knew it was wrong, allowing yourself to be turned around so you’d face the wall and have your entire front pressed against the cold tile, your arms being held behind your back by eunseok’s hand as he pulled his hard cock out of his pants, his pink tip dripping with pre-cum. he pressed himself against you, wasting no time in pushing his entire length into you, both of you moaning in unison as he started fucking you as roughly and mercilessly as usual, pistoning his hips against yours, stretching you out better than anyone ever could, better than sungchan could. eunseok knew what angles to hit to make you see stars, what sweet spots you had, what felt the best for you. he was harsh, fucking you in a seemingly selfish manner, as if all he seeked was his own pleasure, but in reality he wanted to give you yours most of all, being rough but in a loving way almost.

“wonder if your boyfriend knows what a little slut you can be, letting me fuck you in a stall as if he isn’t probably waiting for you somewhere else”

“‘seok…” you moaned, squirming in his grip but not able to move away, only closing your eyes and immersing yourself more in the pleasure, letting him clasp one hand over your mouth and push your head back, making it easier for him to whisper into your ear his next words.

“you’re still my whore, you’ll always be, don’t you dare forget that”

and as he said that, you came, clenching around eunseok’s cock as a mix of arousal and guilt flooded you. you were still, deep down, his, and if it took him fucking you again for you to realize that, you wondered just what else you had managed to hide from yourself.

“such a good slut, cumming all over my cock… that’s it angel, always so good for me” eunseok said, his words tainted with both filth and praise, before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, his thrusts slowing down until he was completely pulling out, stroking his cock a few times before spilling his seed all over your ass — that apparently still being his favorite place to cum on — while groaning against your neck, resting his forehead against you for a second, both of you catching your breaths.

once you had finally collected yourselves, eunseok helped you get cleaned up and dressed, acting like he did back then, destroying you just so he could help put you back together again. just as you were about to leave, both of you still very clearly flustered but at least looking somewhat collected now, someone walked in, one look up making you stare at sungchan, his appearance frantic as his eyes drifted between both of you before finally stopping on your frame, going to you and holding your hands gently.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, did you two fight again?” he asked, voice sweet and worried.

“yeah, something like that” eunseok replied, giving your boyfriend a tap on the shoulder before leaving as if nothing had happened.

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touchme-teezme · 8 months ago

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Fashion Week.

— mingi ver.

PAIRING | ateez mingi x genderneutral!reader

TAGS | (kind of?) fluff, meet cute, alternate universe, model!mingi has a crush

RATINGS | SFW

SONGS | fashion killa by A$AP Rocky, I THINK by Tyler, the Creator

SUMMARY | it’s your first day of working at fashion week and you fucked up without even entering the gates. that’s when you needed mingi’s help to make sure you didn’t get fired.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is my first fanfic!! ahhhh (confetti machines explodes) so please be nice huhu. this was something i came up with while actually working at fashion week this year lmao so this is very self-indulgent. a fantasy if you will. i’m also kinda salty that milan & paris fashion week didn’t invite mingi, so i will. letting him walk too mama. models should be grateful this fine ass man chose to be ateez’s rapper. that’s all, okie bye—enjoy.

Milan Fashion Week.

One of the biggest events of the year is being held right here in Italy. Starting today in Montenapoleone, the most exquisite tailoring, the longest legs, and the prettiest faces walk a special runway, while the famous, powerful, and influential gathered to witness what the world would be wearing for years to come.

Understanding the weight of this moment, and how fortunate you were to be part of it, it was today, of all days, that you were running late.

Jostling through the crowded public transport, the stifling heat of the subway still clinging to you, you emerged onto the bustling streets. Honking cars trapped in gridlock loomed like a barrier between you and the entrance to Fashion Week.

You weaved through the chaos, silently praying that nothing had fallen out of your purse—the zipper had been open the entire time. When you finally reached the gate, security stopped you, informing you that guests were about to arrive and the staff entrance was now closed. Only those with crew tags could be admitted, and they had been distributed during assembly—an hour and a half ago.

You sent a silent prayer for a miracle, but it seemed even God was sitting this one out. Pleading with the guards got you nowhere. You couldn’t call your boss; this was your first mistake of the season, and if fashion had taught you anything, it was to take initiative and fix problems before they reached your boss.

Circling the building like a shark hunting for a way in, you spotted him.

A face like an angel, wrapped in a sleek black Saint Laurent coat. You recognized him from today’s model lineup: fourteen shows, 6’3", lean build, size 43 shoes—Song Mingi, the season's newest sensation.

He’d been scouted in Incheon while buying a sandwich at a convenience store. Your friend in the industry took one look at him, got his details, and flew him out for a casting. He stole the show and was signed that same day.

He looked a little lost, scanning his surroundings with a phone pressed to his ear. Judging by how he hung up and stared down at his phone, whoever he’d called hadn’t answered.

Mustering your courage, you approached him. Tapping him on the shoulder, he turned, towering even more up close.

“Hi, you’re opening the first show, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, studying your face as if he should recognize you.

“I’m with Fashion Week,” you said, hoping to reassure him. He sighed in relief.

“Thank God. I’ve been trying to figure out who I’m supposed to meet. I’ve got this that I’m supposed to trade for an access tag, but no one’s shown up to get me and help.”

“That’d be me,” you lied smoothly. Admitting the truth would’ve been a disaster. “I’ll take you in.”

“Awesome! So, uh... do we just go in with this?”

“Yeah, actually, pass it to me, and I’ll get you checked in.”

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, his tone completely at odds with his dark, brooding look.

As he handed over his tag, you finally had your golden ticket. Glancing around the crowded street, you nudged him, “Let’s go.”

He didn’t hesitate, looping his arm through yours. You both walked—though you had to pick up your pace to match his long strides—heading for the back entrance. Flashing Mingi’s card for the exchange with the guards and ushers in the front, you passed yourself off as his manager and were waved through with the temporary yellow wristband that lets you in.

Relief flooded through you when the plan worked.

You handed Mingi back his tag, reminding him to wait until he was called. You guided him to the model green room, where other models should be waiting.

“Dude, there you are!” one of the models greeted him as soon as you both walked in.

“Yunho!” you heard Mingi call his friend. “So I kind of overslept this morning and—”

“On the first day? Brutal.”

You slipped past the towering figures without a glance, heading straight for your station.

Unbeknownst to you, Mingi peeked over his friends’ shoulders, watching as you disappeared backstage, wanting to thank you, but the words never made it past his lips.

Before you knew it, it was showtime. You slipped into place just in time, heart still pounding from the earlier chaos, but no one seemed to notice your absence. You did everything you could to ensure the show went smoothly, handling last-minute changes, guiding models, and coordinating with the backstage crew.

And then, the lights dimmed. The music swelled. The air hummed with anticipation.

That’s when the white curtains dropped, and Mingi emerged. Now transformed with styled hair and makeup, zipped into an avant-garde masterpiece that must’ve taken hundreds of hours to perfect. He strutted down the runway as if he had been doing this for years, though you knew it was his very first show.

He exuded a natural talent and presence that had the audience captivated. But it wasn’t just his walk. There was something magnetic about him, something raw yet polished enough to turn heads.

For a brief moment, his eyes swept across the room and locked onto yours. You froze, convinced that he was looking directly at you rather than the sea of cameras and faces in the front row. You could’ve sworn he smirked as he turned to make his way back up the runway, leaving your heart still racing.

As the show continued, you found yourself catching glimpses of him every now and then backstage—during quick changes, makeup touch-ups, or casual interactions with the other models. Each time, he seemed more relaxed, slipping easily into conversations, though his gaze always seemed to linger just a moment too long when he spotted you.

You headed backstage to run an errand, and there he was—leaning casually against the wall, waiting for his next cue. He looked relaxed, with clips in his gelled hair keeping it flat and perfectly styled. As soon as he spotted you, a grin spread across his face.

"Hey, stranger," Mingi said, straightening up as you approached, hunting down a specific box in the corner.

“So I heard something funny.”

“What’s that?” you asked, fishing out magazines wrapped in plastic and passing it off to the frazzled intern waiting behind you.

“The guy who was actually supposed to get me this morning? He was apparently searching for me outside for like, twenty minutes but I’m glad to see you actually work here and that I wasn’t an accomplice to some rogue crasher.”

You chuckled, continuing to hand off the magazines to the intern, who was struggling to keep up. “Okay, full disclosure—I was totally winging it this morning. I was late, I didn’t have my pass and used you to get in.”

“So I was a ruse?”

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, glancing at the intern balancing the heavy stack. “Take these to reception, and give them out after this slot ends,” you instructed, watching her scurry off.

Mingi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I see."

“Desperate times,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “Sorry about that.”

“No need,” he said, leaning in slightly with a conspiratorial grin. “To be honest, I was too stressed to think straight too. First-show jitters and all.”

“Jitters? Your walk didn’t look like it was your first show at all.”

Mingi shrugged with an easy smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned in a little more, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on a secret. “Honestly? I’m just pretending I know what I’m doing.”

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease a little as the conversation flowed. “Well, that makes two of us and you’re pulling it off way better than me.”

He grinned. “You look like you’ve got it all under control, though.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Looks can be deceiving.”

His smile lingered as his eyes held yours a moment longer. Then, his name was called from across the room. He glanced over his shoulder, clearly needed elsewhere, but before he left, he turned back to you, his voice a little softer. “See you after the show?”

You nodded, unable to help the smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, maybe," you said, your voice softening as he walked away.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of people, clothes and camera flashes. Every so often, you’d catch sight of Mingi, either on the runway or during chaotic backstage moments. And every time, he’d either flash you a grin or give you a subtle nod, like you were sharing some inside joke.

By the time the final show wrapped up, exhaustion was beginning to settle in. You were busy packing up when you felt a tap on your arm. You turned to see Mingi standing there, dressed in the clothes he wore this morning, but with his last runway makeup still on and his hair was slightly messy from the rush.

“So… I made it through my first day,” he said, beaming at you.

“Congratulations. Thirteen more to go,” you replied, returning his smile.

“You know, I wouldn’t have made it without you,” he teased, his voice softer now.

You waved it off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh please, you were the star today. I didn’t do anything, I just brought you backstage.”

“Well,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “I think you deserve some credit too.”

Before you could respond, a silence settled between you—one that felt comfortable, yet charged with something unspoken. He shifted his weight, hesitating for a moment.

“Are you sticking around after this?” he asked, leaning slightly closer.

You glanced around, noticing the crew still milling about but the bulk of the work nearly done. “Yeah, I’ll be here for a bit. Why?”

Mingi looked down, as if weighing his words before meeting your gaze again. “I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a drink or something.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the chaotic backstage scene—the racks of clothing, the scattered equipment, and the crew members still rushing around. Your excitement deflated a little as the reality of your responsibilities sank in. The day wasn’t quite over for you.

“I’d love to, really,” you started, biting your lip, “but I’ve got to stay for cleanup and a team brief afterward. It’s going to be a long night.”

Mingi’s smile faltered for a second before he gave a small nod, his expression softening with understanding. ��Ah, I see. Duty calls, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t imagine doing what you do. You guys really are the backbone in all this, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit down today.”

You gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, I should’ve been a model so the only move I would be doing is down that catwalk.”

Mingi laughed, a warm sound that made you momentarily forget how tired you were. “You’d probably pull it off.”

“Not with my schedule,” you shot back, shaking your head. “Or y’know… all this.” You gestured to yourself.

“Nah don’t say that. You’re gorgeous.”

Your stomach flipped. “The model height requirement, I mean.”

Mingi’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he scratched the back of his head. He shifted his weight, biting back a shit-eating grin, as if debating whether to say something more. Then, his voice dropped a little, almost teasing. “Well, if you happen to finish early… maybe I’ll still be around.”

This guy...

You tried to keep your cool. “You should just go. Your call time is early tomorrow. Now that you’ve got your tag, you can just come in through the same entrance.”

He held your gaze, his smile lingering a little too long, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Damn. I was hoping you’d come save me again.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as he gave one last playful salute before turning and walking off. If only you’d love your job less, you would’ve been getting drinks with a fucking model right now.

#ateez #song mingi #ateez fanfic #reader x mingi #model mingi #ateez fluff #touchme-teezme os

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rocknrollsalad · 5 months ago

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rating: gen cw: nothing i can think of tags: steddie as dads, sometime in the future, happily married, bickering as a sign of love, steve harrington needs to argue with someone, family game night, fluff, sweet stuff, word count: 993

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "fairy tales"

“Remember that one promise I made you when we got married?” Eddie asked, walking into the kitchen Steve was cleaning.

“I remember them all. You mow the lawn a lot less than you said you would.”

“That’s because you’re so particular!”

“Don’t you dare. It’s because you don’t want to rake up the clippings, dude. You know that, I know that, but it’s so necessary.”

“It’s not,” Eddie glared at Steve’s back, steam coming out of his ears as he tried to get himself back on track. “That’s not the one I mean, either.”

“Can you…be more specific then? I feel like me guessing is just asking for a fight.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m going for.”

Steve turned around, bubbles up to his elbows and eyes bright enough to light the darkest caves. “Are you? Because I’ve been pissed off about that fucking grocery store bullshit all day and I could-I could just really, I mean. Oh my god, it would be so nice to yell and fight.”

“You already yelled at them,” Eddie threw his hands in the air, they were never going to make it to the point here but now he was feeling a bit guilty for getting Steve’s hopes up like that.

“I don’t feel any better,” Steve said plainly, shrugging his shoulders and looking at Eddie like he should understand.

Rather than respond, Eddie stayed quiet long enough that Steve knew he wasn’t getting the needed fight. He turned back to the dishes and took his frustration out on the spaghetti sauce-soaked plates.

Eddie knew he had to tread carefully. Steve was ready to go and it wasn’t going to take much now that Eddie had dangled the carrot.

“Okay, so I mean the part where I said I’d never ask you to fill in during dnd…again.”

“We learned that lesson in the worst way.”

“The closest I ever came to thinking we’d break up was after that,” Eddie nodded. They both paused for the flashback of that argument.

“I sense a ‘but’ coming though.”

“Well, not a ‘but’ so much as a technicality? We agreed you’d never fill in but nothing was said about just joining a campaign. From the beginning.”

“Do you think that’d go any better?”

“I do!” Eddie said, leaping across the kitchen to get into Steve’s space. “Because it wouldn’t be any campaign. I wouldn’t even invite the guys.”

“Just me and you? I don’t want to play pretend sitting around with you. That’s why you still have the Hellfire Club. Go play with them.”

Eddie sucked in a breath but held his words there for a second. “What about the kids?”

Again, it stopped Steve’s dishwashing and he looked at Eddie. It wasn’t a no but it was an invitation to say more. Eddie had to play this very carefully. This was closer than he expected to get.

Their kids were old enough, in Eddie’s opinion, to try their hands at Dungeons and Dragons. At nine and five, it wouldn’t be the full by-the-book campaign. An introduction to the core concepts though, an easy campaign with a focus around things they love, and the safety of their dads.

Eddie just had to get Steve on board.

“Okay, so I’ve spent the past month or so writing down what I could remember of those fairy tales you used to make up as bedtime stories. You’re actually really good at storytelling and you know how much they both loved them.”

Steve sighed, rinsing his hands off and giving Eddie his undivided attention. Reluctantly but Steve didn’t do much enthusiastically. Eddie knew how to read this and how to move forward.

“Well, they’re an amazing basis for a campaign. We could just putt around in our own little fairy tale world and learn the rules, fight a troll, and work together. It’d be chill, I promise. More about learning than anything else.”

“So why do you need me? Can't you just play with the kids?”

“I could. I will if you really don’t want to, though I might bring in Will and Gareth for numbers if that’s the case. But I want you there. They’re your stories and I think it’d be fun to finally play with you after all this time. We’ve got a short window where the kids are learning before they either get too good or don’t want to play.”

“You have…really thought about this,” Steve laughed.

“Actually, yeah, but it’s all sincere. It’s the perfect time to bring you into this with a perfect exit. It doesn’t need you so if you don’t want to, it’s fine, but I’d love to do this as a family. Something, something practicing safe dice rolls at home first,” Eddie tried to laugh, knowing the joke wouldn’t land and that it was barely formed.

Steve folded and unfolded the towel he’d dried his hands with, thinking this over. “For the kids,” he finally said.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, the statement ping-ponging around his brain as he tried to process if it was, in fact, a statement and not a question. Then he said “No fucking way,” with several different inflections.

Before Eddie could vibrate out of the room, Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “I have a no-questions-asked exit though. If it gets anywhere close to what happened last time, I leave the game, you write me out, and we never, ever, ever try again, okay?”

“Yeah! Of course! I mean, I’d expect nothing less!! So, alright, you always told stories about this prince, did you see him as a fighter or what?”

Before the question finished, Eddie darted out of the kitchen to grab a notebook. He had pages of questions for Steve. This would take a lot of working out between them before bringing in the kids but Eddie was willing to do the work and Steve could keep doing chores. It was perfect. This was all going to be so perfect.

#steddie #written for: steddie holiday drabbles 2024

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fite-club · 23 days ago

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(anon cause im confused as shit rn and was reblogging a bunch of transandrophobia posts and my friends are fully behind it)

i read through a bunch of your (re)posts after coming from a post that basically said you were awful for being anti transandrophobia. i do get where you and other people are coming from though. you obviously dont have to answer this, but i’ve got no idea how to make my other transmasc friends see it this way, so if you have any advice on that (or specific posts maybe) that’d be nice. if not then just tell me to fuck off or something lmao.

anyways good day.

ohhhh that's where the hatemail to my art blog is coming from lol.

the thing i most want people who believe in transandrophobia to know is that the people against it aren't against the idea or concept of transmascs talking about our experiences and oppression. we WANT to talk about those things! we just should talk about them under the lens of oppressive forces that exist (transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, racism, classism, etc) and not ones that don't (anti-men, reverse racism, etc). this is why it doesn't make sense to have a "boy version" of "transmisogyny"-- these words came from academic theory that laid the groundwork for them to stand on.

basically, it comes down to semantics, and terminology like "transandrophobia" is useless at best and anti-feminist at worst. the guys who use this word just want to feel seen and heard and have their feelings validated, so we can do that by talking about our struggles, just without the buzzword. transphobia isn't "too generic" or "too broad" of a term to do it justice!

i get asked this enough that i should go ahead and make a little list, so here we go:

a classic quote on transmisogyny

a post questioning the linguistic/theoretical purpose of the term

some posts about the negative effects of these kinds of terms

a post about how trans men have privilege over trans women

a post about how sexism results in the differences in transphobia

a post about the TERF rhetoric that often shows up in these circles

but generally, reading/learning about transmisogyny helps. here's a post with a bunch of links for that.

#ref #reference

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ask-postcrash-curly · 2 months ago

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Everyone keeps talking about the how u should get your tits back but personally, I think you should get your lips back. I mean, I think that’d probably be the most frustrating thing to not have besides your eyelid and like, the rest of your skin in general. (And your hand and feet).

I hope they’ll be able to reconstruct your lips well eventually. Probably won’t happen till you’re back on earth. I wonder if you’ll ever be able to speak again? I hope so. Think your throat is doing any better? Probably hard to tell. By the way, did your tongue ever get damaged? Idk if you’ve talked about it before.

Btw… how come you can’t really swallow well? (Hence why they had to—) Sorry, that’s probably not a fun thing to think about, u don’t gotta answer if u don’t wanna.

Thank you. Finally something reasonable. It's not particularly comfortable, having gums exposed. If I had to pick one thing it would probably be the eyelid though. Fuckin' pain, that is.

Mm. I don't know whether it's possible, but that would be nice. I... I'm not too hopeful, if I'm being real. Between the lips, the tongue, the throat, and whatever's wrong with my jaw... Yeah. I don't think my throat's doing better. Still pretty fucking awful getting those pills down. My tongue is damaged, yeah. Most of it's gone.

Don't really know, sorry. I suppose I just can't make my throat move the way it needs to.

#curlyposting

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 1 year ago

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@bitch-be-nimble well, not at the time. (the whole motivation behind this notfic with buggy in disguise was to see if i could write a post-roguetown encounter without making shanks lie when he tells whitebeard he hasn’t seen buggy since roguetown.) but it’s funny you should ask!

this got stupid long. okay, you know what? i’m just gonna post this first chunk of the story, it ends on a fun note and i won’t feel like i need to rush the rest if i’ve shared this much with y’all.

a little over a decade later, as the red force prepared to leave marineford:

it was buggy’s fault. undeniably. if he could’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut—but of course he couldn’t! not after the way shanks just treated him, pulling on his strings like a goddamn puppet master, like he still knew buggy after all these years. not when buggy knew for a fact that shanks wouldn’t recognize him without his nose acting as a big red flag.

(of course he hadn’t forgotten about that day. he never spoke of it, but it was on his mental tally of ways shanks had screwed him over. spooked him into eating the chop-chop fruit, constantly stole his thunder, beat him at cards (by cheating! by cheating at cards better than buggy!), ruined his plans for the future, kissed him one time in a back alley in east blue—and without even asking first!)

and this was the first time he’d been near shanks since that day, so of course it was on his mind. shanks hadn’t changed much since then, except that oh wait, he’d lost a fucking arm somehow! and nobody seemed to be able to agree on how.

buggy couldn’t bear to ask for the story.

he had to know.

he could not ask.

“looking at you, i can’t tell which of the rumors is true,” buggy said. (not asked!) shanks was sitting on a barrel, watching other members of his crew do real work, so buggy figured it was safe to bother him. he glanced up at buggy. “did you go after whitebeard and get punished for it like that crocodile guy, or did you try and see if your armament haki was stronger than a sea king’s teeth?”

shanks huffed out a little laugh. “are those the only rumors these days?”

“the only ones i considered remotely plausible.”

“well, the second one’s not far off,” shanks said.

buggy stared. that couldn’t be the whole story. not for him.

shanks sighed. “look, buggy, i’m sorry, but i don’t have time for this right now. unless you know my ship better than me, and can figure out where we’re going to place a twenty-two foot long corpse—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “any other day, i would love to sit down with you and catch up. just not today.”

right. buggy flushed. shanks was an emperor. even though he was the youngest and weakest of them, that still required a certain something. leadership. responsibility. just because he still looked like the shanks buggy knew, slacking off, doing as he liked, didn’t actually make him so.

“buggy,” shanks snapped.

“does he have to be lying down?” buggy blurted out. shanks blinked up at him, surprised to hear him try to be helpful. “i mean, i know how normal bodies work, death stiffness wears off eventually, but this is whitebeard. if anyone could stay standing the whole of his death, it’s that guy.”

shanks frowned. “i did consider that, briefly. but if we’re wrong, having to clear that much space in the time it takes him to fall over…”

buggy cringed. “right, that’d be way worse.” he thought about alternatives. this boat of shanks’ was nice, but it did not have that kind of room to spare, not if he was taking shipless pirates aboard (which, of course he was; this was shanks). “what about one of the whitebeard fleet ships? are any of them stable enough to carry him? they’re his crews, i bet they’d be honored to be his last ride.”

shanks nodded. “there are a few still seaworthy.” running his hand through his hair, he muttered, “but like hell i’m getting involved with the intracrew politics there. i’ll ask marco, he’ll know which one to pick to step on the fewest toes.” getting to his feet, shanks visibly swayed for a moment.

“whoa, are you—?”

“i’m—fine,” shanks said, pinching at his brow. he glanced at buggy, who had foolishly reached out to, what, steady him? offer an arm to lean on?? he didn’t know what he’d been thinking. shanks sighed. “it’s not as fun as we’d thought it’d be when we were kids, is it? being the ones in charge.”

“oh, i don’t know,” buggy said, thinking back to that moment, fresh out of impel down, when anything seemed possible with all those guys at his back, cheering him on. “it has its moments.”

shanks considered him for a moment. he smiled. “i guess it does. thanks for the suggestions, buggy. go find a spot to lie down, would you? you look like you could use some beauty sleep.”

and buggy knew he shouldn’t say it. even in the moment he knew it was stupid. but he could never leave well enough alone when shanks took a cheap shot at him, and that day had been on his mind. so he said, “gee, and here i thought i was gorgeous.” and because he really couldn’t help himself, it seemed, when shanks gave him a blank look, he fluttered his eyelashes and added, “with stunning eyes.”

shanks stared.

in the time it took for buggy to blink, he was shoved into the closest wall. he’d tear shanks a new one for halfheartedly trying to give him a concussion, but the hand that’d pressed him shoulder-first into the wall was drifting up, up his neck, cupping his cheek, and buggy found himself as lost for words this time as last.

shanks leaned in. just as he got too close for propriety, he sucked in a breath. he whispered, “that was you?”

buggy gave him a look that said obviously. that said how else would i know about it? that said why? does it matter?

did it matter? he stared up at shanks, and, far from the first time, had no idea what he was thinking.

shanks took a step back and laughed, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “oh god,” he said under his breath, “i really don’t have time for this right now.” eyes shutting, he sighed, and to buggy it looked like he’d aged ten years in an instant. someone out of sight called for their ‘boss,’ and the exhaustion, the previous, unreadable emotion, it all fell away. here was red-haired shanks the emperor, for the first time since he’d cowed the marines into allowing the whitebeard pirates their dead. he stalked off, calling out, “get some sleep, buggy,” over one shoulder, cool as anything.

buggy, feeling distinctly uncool and like he’d never sleep again, scurried away in search of a private corner he could panic in. he found a deck a level or two up that was deserted for the moment—crew quarters, maybe?—and huddled by the railing. had anyone seen that? stupid, stupid—

“did you see that?” someone a deck below said excitedly to their companions. “captain buggy got that emperor mad enough to shove him into a wall, and then without a word forced him to retreat! he’s truly amazing!”

buggy buried his face in his hands and groaned. so stupid.

“hey, quick question,” said someone at buggy’s elbow some time later. “are you trying to get us all killed?” it was mr. 3—er, galdino, or whatever his name was, looking very fearful and annoyed and sweaty. or maybe that was the wax? buggy didn’t know much about him, or how his powers worked.

“how’s that?”

“word among the men,” this was how galdino had been referring to the prisoners who’d followed the two of them out of impel down lately, ‘the men,’ like they were buggy’s soldiers or something, “is that red-haired shanks kabedon'd you, and you turned him down. you realize he’s our only possible ride out of here at this point, right? why antagonize him like that?”

buggy’s face screwed up. like he needed to be reminded of the distance between him and shanks. but also: “the hell’s that word mean?”

“kabedon? it’s when someone shoves you into a wall to intimidate and flirt with you.”

“flirt with—” buggy sputtered, face hot. oh shit, was that really what they were saying? “god no, no way! shanks would never—”

“i’m just reporting what i’ve heard,” galdino said, shoving his glasses up his nose. “oh, no one’s made the flirtatious connection but me, but they all say the two of you got up close and personal, and red-hair’s been red-faced ever since. i just put two and two together.”

“it wasn’t like that,” said buggy, who couldn’t have told galdino what it was like, since he still had no idea himself.

“no?” galdino joined buggy at the railing. they had a good view of the main deck from up here, including a cluster of men having a serious-looking discussion. since the group included shanks and marco the phoenix, it was probably about whitebeard and ace, and where they were taking them and how to do it. shanks looked tired, but it wasn’t obvious like it had been when it was just the two of them. there was something on his face that buggy recognized from the day the news about roger’s arrest broke. a quiet, sad kind of tired.

feeling eyes on him, shanks glanced up. their eyes met for a moment, maybe two. then shanks turned away, face slightly, undeniably redder, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

galdino leaned in close to buggy’s ear. “you sure about that, buggy?”

blushing bright enough to rival his nose, buggy stomped off, steaming, muttering curses against smart-mouthed wax men under his breath.

but no, he wasn’t sure at all.

#bitch-be-nimble #notfic #one piece #shuggy #shanks #buggy #featuring me thinking *way* more about post-marineford logistics than i think oda ever wanted anyone to #a very busy and emotionally exhausted red-haired shanks learning something emotionally upsetting #and galdino clocking shanks in a minute flat while buggy still has no earthly idea what that man is thinking #the near miss fics

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