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#but some of my titles really are just. words i threw together
razzle-zazzle · 7 months
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How do you come up with the titles for your fics? They're very creative!
This is a very funny question for me to receive, because the answer... varies. Prior to getting an AO3 account, I only really titled my fics if I had a good idea for a title; AO3 requires every piece to be titled, though, and a lot of them... did not come easily.
I have the easiest time with Whumptobers, as I just title those based on the prompt. Otherwise, I have to come up with the titles myself, and it's usually the first thing I think of that sounds good enough. I have two pieces titled "i don't even know" and "dormmates (idk what to call this)" respectively purely bc I couldn't think of a title for them, and then I have pieces where the title is some low-meaning jargon that vibed like "it's snow problem!" "tiny steps in the night" "eggs for one" and so on. So more often than not I'm scrambling to figure out some kind of title to satisfy AO3 and then leaving the piece untitled on tumblr bc it doesn't need one.
When it comes to naming AUs... yeah, that varies too. I had a lot of trouble coming up with a name for the Between AU because a lot of what I was coming up with (Bergen Branch, Bergen Brothers, etc) either felt misleading, incomplete, or didn't fit the tone quite right. So even though "Between AU" makes no reference to the fact that Branch gets to be Bergen royalty, it still works with Branch's character arcs in that AU as being caught between different worlds. Some of my AU titles end up being more literal or descriptive (Undead Acrobat, PN Rapids AU), and some get to be a little more poetic (Pearl & Seaglass, The River Runs Deep).
There is one series where I spent a lot of time figuring out titles; in fact, just a few weeks ago I had a category two brainrot event that witnessed me going through all the ice and ice-related Wikipedia articles + a thesaurus shifting some of the titles in If We're All for One World (the title of which is literally just a lyric from the show's theme song, lmao). And the names from that series don't all fit a cohesive theme! I just put them together based on the other pieces they could be themed with, and based on what served the story best! I do have a series where all the names follow a theme (Buried Beneath), but it's a loose theme of "earth-related" lmao.
tl;dr I pick names based on what works for the fic itself, but sometimes I just throw words together until I get something that sounds vaguely fitting, and sometimes the fic is part of a series where the titles have some kind of theme, but even then it tends to be loosey-goosey.
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ataliagold · 5 months
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Flowers In Your Hair
For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: General
W/C: 1249
Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness
Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.
___
“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”
Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.
Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”
Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”
Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”
“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”
Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”
Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.
She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”
Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”
“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.
Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.
She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”
“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”
Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”
“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”
“Well, I agree with you there.”
“Eddie?”
A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.
“Yeah, supergirl?”
“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”
Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”
El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”
And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?
Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”
“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.
“Yup.”
A smile slowly spread across his face.
“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”
And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.
At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.
He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.
“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”
They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.
Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.
By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.
“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”
Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”
El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.
Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”
Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.
Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.
Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.
This is stupid.
Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.
Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.
Almost.
Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.
Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.
It opened after a moment.
“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.
Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”
Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.
When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”
“I love them, Eds.”
___
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acotarxreader · 5 months
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High Lord of Game
Azriel x Reader
Synopsis: Cassian and Azriel use a simple competition to decide who deserves the title of High Lord of Game, but at what cost to you?
Warnings: Light smut, males being males
A/N: I hope you enjoy this, my first fic away from my beloved Shadow and Flame. I described this once as "silly goofy" but I was sleep-deprived and I'm no longer sure if that fits it best. Let me know what you think!
If you would like to be added to a general tag list please let me know as I didn't want to tag those who asked to be tagged on Shadow and Flame because I was unsure if that was just for that series
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“Az, give it over, I am the High Lord of Game” 
“Don’t flatter yourself Cass” Azriel shoved his best friend across the path as they walked through the streets of Velaris, Winter coming to a head . 
“Rhysand would agree with me” “Fine, you're the biggest whore” Azriel laughed, Cassian feigning offence, striding toward the city centre. 
“I think I should wear the crown of High Lord”
“Do I sense a coup amongst my friends?” Rhysand winnowed in between the two, both laughing at the idea.
“Azriel believes he is High Lord of the Game when we all know it's me” Rhysand rolled his eyes nearly from his head at the prospect. 
“Surely I am High Lord, I have a mate, therefore I've won the game” silence followed before both Illyrains locked eyes behind Rhysand, both then shoving him forward laughing. 
“Don’t depress us while we have our competition Rhys”
“That's it, a competition! Az, I will choose a female for you to pursue and you for me, that will decide it once and for all” Rhysand shook his head side to side gently, happy to have Feyre but ever so slightly missing his single days, the thought dissolving almost instantly as he saw Feyre come out of her gallery laughing with another Fae. 
“It's a deal” “A deal” the two shook hands, Rhysand rolling his eyes again. 
“Right, that female there Cass, off you go” Azriel pointed to a fae he recognised, Cass not taking a second glance overly confident as always. He sauntered over to the fae sipping lemonade at a table outside a cafe. 
“Wait isn't that-” Rhysand was cut off by Azriel laughing at Cassian and the Fae. In one swift movement, the female sloshed her full drink up and into Cassian's face before standing and storming off. Both Azriel and Rhysand were doubled over howling as Cassian stomped over soaking wet.
“Unfair, I already slept with her” Cassian scolded his two friends as they tried to gather themselves together again. 
“Oh, you think you’re so funny! Fine, fine, Az your challenge is ... .YN” Azriel and Rhysand immediately stopped laughing, looking towards the Fae Feyre had left, smiling to herself, cracking open a book as Feyre winnowed away. 
“Cass, give Azriel at least a small bit of a chance” 
“Nah, he set me up for failure, his turn” the three stared at you again, flicking through your book.
“Fine, what are the terms?”
“Great, you have until Starfall, that gives you a chance-” Cassian beamed nudging Rhysand “-to bed her and I will crown you High Lord of Game” Azriel took a moment to ponder these words before shaking his wings slightly and striding over in your direction. A little over four months, easy he thought. Azriel hadn’t really ever taken much notice of you before, only hearing of you from Feyre talking about you volunteering with the outreach programmes. He knew she was fond of you but never introduced you to the group, he was unsure why.
“Hello” he gave his best coy smile towards you, no response from you. 
“Hello there” he tried again. No response. Azriel looked over his shoulder to where his brothers stood laughing some distance away. He rolled his shoulders back undeterred and cleared his throat, raising his hand slowly to lower your book from your face.
“Hello YN” you threw him a look through your eyelashes, already over the conversation before it began. Azriel nearly forgot why he stood in front of you, captivated by your eyes.
“Yes?” you raised an eyebrow, Azriels throat completely dried out and he began to cough causing you to scoff lightly before passing him the canteen of water you had in your bag, he politely declined.
“I’m Azriel” he managed with no reply from you. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. 
“What are you reading YN?” “Why does it matter Shadowsinger?” you almost purred sarcastically, tucking the book into your bag. 
“Just making conversation” Azriel couldn't help but come off as over it, perhaps this wasn't worth the title he’d win but then you smiled at him and he felt all the tiny hairs on his neck stand with excitement. You stood, throwing your bag across your body.
“Well thanks for the sparkling conversation Shadowsinger” you patted his shoulder pushing past him and back into the street. Azriel turned on his heels to face his smug friends. 
*******
For the next two weeks, Azriel made it his mission to show up wherever you did, trying to play it off as the Gods intervention and not his careful planning and reading of Feyre's planner. 
“Are you stalking me, be honest” you whipped around to him one day as you left Rita’s having met Feyre and apparently Azriel, for a drink. 
“One date and I'll leave you alone” “Why?”
“Why not?” you clicked your tongue at him, thinking of the millions of reasons why not and yet you couldn't help but be pulled in his direction, to his magnetic energy.
You agreed and that's when things began to change so rapidly in both of your lives and by the one-month mark you were accompanying him to family dinners and welcomed with such open arms. Azriel had coaxed you out of your self-inflicted solitary confinement but couldn't get you quite to fully engage with his family, still that air of caution lay within you. 
At Feyres birthday dinner Azriel felt it was time to be bold. Something about you, the way you smiled, the way you looked at him, he was becoming putty in your hands, hearing you laugh made him never want to hear anything ever again. Azriel sat next to you at that dinner as he did at every other meal with you, the table’s conversation ebbing and flowing around you both as always, happy to just sit in one another's presence. He couldn't help it, time to be brazen he thought. 
Azriels hand found its way slowly to the top of your thigh, almost afraid as though his touch would hurt you and you'd shatter in his hands. He quickly removed his hand at the feeling of you tensing next to him, internally reprimanding himself. Azriel felt a smile grow on his face as your hand gently unfurled the fist he had made with his hand and interlocked your fingers with his, all without breaking eye contact with whoever was speaking. You were glowing, Azriel thought. 
“I’m sorry to interrupt the party but I must make tracks for home” You gave a smile to the room sometime later, slipping your hand from Azriel again where he instantly missed it.
“I'll walk with you, I could do with the stretch after the meal” You gave a small smile to Azriels words, fetching your jacket. Cassian gave Azriel a coy smirk causing Azriel to send a shadow to knock Cassian's wine into his shirt. You both left River House as Cassian gave out loudly.
You both idly walked down the winding streets of Velaris, entirely comfortable in the silence that surrounded you until you both reached the bottom gate of your small townhouse.
“Well I had a really nice time YN, maybe see you tomorrow” Azriel moved from you, happy to leave it there, not wanting you to feel pushed.
“Wait Az” you reached, catching him by his suit jacket collar, pulling him down to meet your lips. Electricity coursed through Azriel’s veins, electric, he was being electrified by you.
“Well goodbye, see you tomorrow” you pulled suddenly from him, hurried words spoken as you released his collar and moved to run and hide. His turn to catch you by surprise, he almost swept you back to meet his lips again, every nerve buzzing to life, every cell wanting more. 
That set off the whirlwind relationship you both deserved. By February you had both learned to trust one another entirely. He confided in you about his difficult childhood and you about your violent tumultuous previous relationship. In three and a half months you both became inseparable, teaching and taunting one another and so entirely happy whilst taking things slow as you worked through your leftover relationship issues. 
Azriel sat in the booth with his friends, you working late with Feyre one weekend evening.
“So should we be getting you fitted for a crown yet Az?” “What are you talking about?” Azriel laughed, Cassian raising an eyebrow, going to explain before you came into the bar with Feyre, instantly joining the friend group, and pulling Azriel to the bar top with you.
************************
Azriel stood with his brothers in their coordinating gem-tone suits basking in the moonlight of Starfall. You arrived with the rest of the females but Azriel didn’t see any of the others the moment his eyes landed on you. A simple slip dress the silver colour of the very stars that shone above. He found his throat dry out again as it had that very first time he looked into your eyes. You kissed his cheek and smiled, he couldn't quite believe his luck to share this night with you. Azriel took your hand, twirling you while you laughed before escorting you to the dance floor where you stayed for what felt like hours. 
Azriel showed you around The House of Wind, arriving at the balcony of his room as the spirits began to transverse the sky above. You both radiated such pure peace as the sky filled with lights, Azriel caught your hand in his, pulling you into his chest. You leaned up kissing him, the sky illuminated. His hands went to your hips as yours went around his shoulders, deepening the kiss further. 
“I think I’m in love with you Azriel” you said so quietly separating briefly.
“I know I’m in love with you YN” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before you backed away leading him by the hand back towards his bed. You both kissed there for a moment, growing hungrier and hungrier for one another. Usually, you would have stopped by now, feelings of unresolved trauma in you taking the reins. But not this time.
“Are you okay YN?” you just nodded at him before pulling your slip dress over your head, turning and crawling deeper into the bed, beckoning Azriel with you. He hovered over you, taking you all in, his very own Goddess. He kissed down your neck, checking in with you before removing his own shirt. You traced up the grooves of his abdomen, sending a shiver through his wings as you smiled.
“I wish I could look at you smiling forever” “Maybe you can” he lowered back down to kiss you at your words. 
A screech of rusty hinges being twisted separated you both as the door of Azriels room swung open, a very very drunk Cassian stumbling in. Azriel threw his shirt to cover you, launching himself towards the door. 
“Get out Cass!” “Oh A-zzz I did-n’t know you wer-e in here” he slurred, Azriel catching the door trying to close it in Cassian's face.
“YN- heeeeeey. Oh shit! A-m I interrupting the cr-owning of the High L-ord of Game” a shiver shot down Azriel at these words, he had forgotten. He had totally and utterly forgotten. You pulled your dress back over your head, slipping from the bed almost laughing in confusion.
“What Cassian?”
“It's gonn-a be your weddin-g story! How roman-tic a bet turning in-to lov-e, who’d have though-t it '' The giant Illyrian took another deep sip from his cup, one he definitely didn't need, your laughter coming to a complete halt. 
“Get the fuck out of here Cassian!” Azriel gained the upper hand finally slamming the door in his drunk brother's face. He turned to look at you, sheet white like you’d seen a ghost. You took deep measured breaths, trying to prevent full scale hyperventilation.
“YNN”
“Don’t call me that”
“Please listen to me” you were hurriedly searching for your bag, Azriel had his arms out as though he was trying to stop a wild horse.
“Az-Azriel, was there or was there not a competition or bet or what-the-fuck-ever based around our relationship” you stood before him, wild-eyed, begging and wishing and hoping that what came out of his mouth next would make this all go away.
“Yes…it's why I talked to you that first day- but wait please!” You had pushed past him at these words, straight for the bedroom door, needing out. 
“-But YN then I fell for you! I forgot about the stupid competition! I swear! I promise, please, I need you” your back was to him as he spoke these words, fist around the door handle.
“What you need Azriel is for someone to build your fragile masculinity and I’m sorry but I am not the Fae for you” you whipped the door open, stepping over a passed out Cassian and running down the hallway from the mess. 
************************
A week had passed, Feyre practically forbidding Azriel from seeing you after hearing of the whole ordeal. Azriel still was yet to speak to Cassian but really his anger was mostly at himself. He completely messed up. 
You opened your front door a week after what happened to find Azriel sat at your garden gate. You went to close the door again but he shot towards you.
“Azriel” you glared.
“Please speak to me YN” you sighed, closing the door on him, not ready for it all.
“I'll wait here for you! I’ll wait forever for you” he sat back down on the step and there he stayed for almost 48 hours. 
You looked out through your bedroom window at him sitting below in the rain on your doorstep. You sighed before heading down the stairs, opening the door and staring down at the soaked Illyrian. 
“Can I please talk to you now?” you sighed at his words, just stepping back from the door beckoning him in. He didn't need to be told twice, darting into your living room. You crossed your arms as you watched him shake the water from his wings. 
“I know you probably have questi-” “Why Azriel? Tell me why! I've been racking my brain for over a week and I can’t figure out why you would do this to me” you raised your voice to him, something you’d never done before to him and it rattled him slightly.
“To build my fragile masculinity” he attempted a joke, gaining a pillow thrown at him by you for him to dodge. 
“Okay, because I am a big Illyrian idiot who had no idea how hard I’d fall for you! I had no idea someone like you would fall for me! I completely just lost all sense of judgement! He practically slumped to the floor, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Are you…are you crying?” you moved slowly towards the slumped Shadowsinger.
“Yes! I completely fucked up so bad YN and I am so beyond sorry for even causing you any ounce of pain!”
“Get up off the floor Az, you're destroying your fragile masculinity” you gave a small smile, reaching out your hand and pulling him to his feet. You sat down on your sofa, still holding his hand, nudging your head to the side indicating for him to sit. He then explained the details of the competition at your request. 
“I know I am the scum of the earth but I promise I totally forgot about it when I started to get to know you and it was beyond the furthest thing from my mind when we…when last week happened” his voice shook at the end of his tale of betrayal.
“I must be crazy” you shook your head side to side.
“No you’re not YN”
“Yes, I am because I believe you” he met your eyes frantically as you rubbed the back of his hand. 
“So you still want to be with me?!” “Yes, stupidly” you half laughed and he matched you.
“But you or Cassian pull anything even close to this shit again and I'll castrate you both and throw you into the river” “I'll lend you the blade to do so” Azriel smiled.
“I love you YNN” “I- I can't say that back right now Az” his heart sank for a moment before he spoke again.
“That’s alright YNN, I love us enough for the both of us anyway” Azriel moved to kiss you in the way he dreamed of since that night.
“Ah ah ah-” you pulled back and shook your finger at him smiling. 
“-Back to hand holding Az” “Okay, great, I can do that” You both sat there for a moment in that familiar comfortable silence you both thought you'd never feel again. 
“Okay that’s enough hand-holding,” you said hurriedly, pushing yourself on top of him to straddle his lap as he sat, kissing him deeply. 
“Thank the Gods” he laughed into the kiss.
“You wouldn't have lasted with just hand-holding anyways” you nudged him.
“Wanna bet?” he grinned, gaining a hand into the chest again before sharing a searing kiss once again.
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withwritersblock · 2 months
Text
F.Y.B.F pt. 2
~F.Y.B.F goodies remix by MC BXB~ Author's Note: requested a few times so here you goooo Summary: Jack and Y/n get together after months of Jack being the rebound guy Warnings: none Word Count: 1,709 Jack Hughes x fm!reader Part 1
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She laid down on the couch, sprawling her legs over his lap. Her gaze remained on the Devils game on the screen. They were down by two goals but they still had most of the second period and the third period to turn it around. 
Noah ran his hands up and down her legs as he was staring towards her skin instead of the game on the screen. “They’re losing why can’t we turn it off?” Noah offered as his hands were climbing higher and higher on her legs. 
“Because I’ll be a fake fan, what if I miss an amazing goal?” she offered meeting his gaze for only a brief second before she looked back towards the screen. Jack was shouting at the ref about something, nothing new. 
“Then watch the highlight reel,” he said as squeezed her leg slightly.
“Not as fun as watching it when it happens,” she continued to stare towards the screen. He sighed as he titled his head back against the top of the couch. He pouted his lips slightly as he was clenching his jaw. 
After a few minutes, Jack gets his second goal of the game. “Yes!” she cheered sitting up slightly. She stared towards the screen, a wide grin on her lips as she saw Jack laughing about something. Noah watched the genuine smile on her lips.
“You’re really into this hockey stuff? Like this isn’t some act to try and impress me?” he asked. She shifted her gaze towards him, her eyes wide.
“Why would I pretend to like anything to impress you? Especially something you don’t care about?” she said, pulling her legs off of his frame.
“Because what girl actually like these things?” he said while laughing. She stood up, staring towards him.
“Girls aren’t allowed to like sports?” she asked accusingly. He laughed again while shaking his head. 
“I didn’t say that but what girl gets into the game like that if they’re not trying to impress someone,” he said, trying to defend himself. In an awful way. 
“Okay with that being said you can go ahead and leave. Lose my number and my address while you’re at it,” she offered, forcing a grin to her lips as she walked towards her door. She rested her hand on the door handle. He stared towards her dumbfounded. “I’m serious, go,” she said jiggling the door handle.
“What because I’m shocked that you like hockey?” he said as he stood up, he threw his hands up in the air. 
“No, it’s because of the sexist views you have about it. Joking or not, it’s not okay. Now please leave,” she explained this time pulling the door open. He slowly walked towards the door, stopping short in front of her. Furrowing his eyebrows while clenching his jaw. 
“You know what? Good. I don’t need to be with someone who’s so fucking sensitive,” he let out while walking out of the apartment. She huffed with a small grin on her lips as she shut the door behind him. She locked it as she walked back towards her couch. She sat back down just in time for Jack to tie the game with a hat trick. 
She threw her hands up in the air, cheering loudly by herself. 
~~~
The game ended an hour and a half ago and he was sitting at his dining table eating dinner with Luke. “You seeing Y/N tonight?” Luke asked as he stabbed his fork into his steak. Jack pursed his lips forward while shaking his head. Luke’s lips slowly curled up into a small smirk as he kept his gaze onto the food in front of him.
“What?” Jack asked laughing slightly before he shoved a bite of food into his mouth.
“You just gonna keep waiting for her?” he asked teasingly.
“Shut up, Lukey,” Jack said with a mouthful of food.
“I’m serious,” he said while laughing.
“Me too,” Jack shot back while laughing. He finished his bite of food before he took a deep breath. “I like knowing I’m the first thing she thinks about when she’s done with those assholes,” he explained while staring towards his younger brother.
“You don’t like it when she’s with those guys, you’re miserable,” Luke expressed.
“I am not miserable,” he countered as he tilted his head to the side.
“You are so miserable!” Luke said while laughing. “You go to practice, games, and home, that’s it,”
“It’s because I’m being responsible,” he said confidently before he shoved a bite of food into his mouth. Luke busted out laughing and Jack started laughing too. “Alright, we’re done talking about it,” he said with a mouth full of food. 
“So if she texts you to come over, you won’t go,” Luke teased. Jack rolled his eyes as he subconsciously looked down towards his phone to check for a text. There was none. Jack rolled his eyes as he kept his gaze on his food.
“Whatever,” he mumbled as he took a deep breath. Luke smiled as he stood up from the dining table with his empty plate towards the kitchen. 
Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. Luke perked up excitedly, smirking as he walked towards the door. “I got it,” Luke teased. Jack took in a deep breath, a smirk toying to his lips. 
Luke dramatically pulled the door open, revealing Y/N standing outside the door. “No, shit,” Luke said while laughing, “Y/N, we we’re just talking about you!” Luke teased. She forced a tight lip smile. Jack stared towards her, his eyes wide as he felt his heart jump into his throat. “Why don’t you come in, and I’ll go to my room,” Luke contiued as he dramatically held out his hand guiding Y/N inside. 
She chuckled as she stepped inside, Luke smirked towards Jack as he walked towards his bedroom. She stood just in front of the door staring towards Jack, she had a small smile on her lips. Jack leaned back into his seat meeting her gaze, he smirked.
“You were talking about me?” she asked softly while she took a small step towards him. 
“Shut up,” he said while laughing. He stood up from his chair, taking a hold of his plate and dropping it into the sink. “C’mon,” he mumbled towards her before he walked towards his bedroom. She slowly followed after him, a small smile on her lips. He held the door open, a smirk on his lips as he watched her walk towards him. She stopped right at the door, meeting his gaze. They stood only a few inches apart. 
“I broke up with Noah,” she said simply as she scanned his features. He licked his lips as he squinted his eyes slightly. 
“Figured,” he let out. She rolled her eyes playfully as she walked into his room, jumping onto his bed. She laid onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows. He slowly shut the door behind him, he smiled widely as he turned the lock. “That didn’t last long,” he offered, keeping his back pressed against the door. 
“He turned out to be an asshole,” she mumbled keeping her gaze on his. He laughed dryly as he tilted his head back against the door.
“Isn’t that your type?” he teased. She huffed as she collapsed flatly onto her back.
“Are you going to come kiss me or not?” she let out dramatically. He laughed as he pursed his lips forward. She lifted her head up, meeting his gaze. She watched him shake his head. Her lips fell into a pout, “Why not,” she whined out. 
He shook his head, “I’m not letting you do this again,” he said simply. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as she completely sat up. She dangled her feet off the bed. “We’re not going to mess around. I’m not your rebound anymore,” he explained. 
“Jack,” she let out quietly. 
“This is either the start of something or we’re hanging out as friends,” Jack explained crossing his arms over his chest.
“Jack, what-”
“I’m tired, Y/N. Aren’t you tired of this cat and mouse game we've been playing?” he said softly. She rolled her eyes. 
“We’re not good at relationships, we would be awful together, Jack, you know that,” she said shaking her head. Jack walked towards her, stopping in front of her. 
“Maybe we’re so bad at relationships because we aren’t together,” he offered as he delicately took a hold of her chin. 
“Jack,” she let out before she pressed her lips together.
“What did I tell you a few weeks back?” he asked as he slowly glided his hand from her chin, towards he jaw. His thumb grazing her skin so delicately. “You always come back to me,” he whispered as he slowly leaned towards her. 
“Jack,” she mumbled out, her gaze lingering on his lips.
“Just stay this time,” he whispered into her ear. She tilted her head back, taking in a small breath as she lifted her gaze to meet his eye. “You want this, stop denying it,” he whispered again.
“Who am I supposed to run to when we break up?” she asked teasingly. He chuckled as he pulled away, meeting her gaze. “It was always nice to know you were waiting for me,” she mumbled as she reached her hand up, caressing his cheek. 
“Well, I’m not waiting for you anymore,” he leaned towards her kissing her lips softly, “Either you want this or we’re done,” he mumbled against her lips. Her lips slowly curled up into a grin as she leaned towards him kissing him urgently. He giggled against her lips as he slowly pushed her back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, excitedly tugging at her shirt.
She tilted her head back, watching Jack open his eyes slowly. “I always did come back to you but what if I ruin this. I ruin every relationship I have ever been in. What if I ruin us?” she asked softly. He leaned towards her, pecking her lips for a few seconds.
“I won’t let that happen,” he whispered before he began to kiss her lips slowly. She giggled softly as she ran her fingers through his hair.
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redrose10 · 20 days
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Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!
CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader
Title: Cold Brewed Love
Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose
Word Count: 3,824
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.
You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.
“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.
“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.
The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.
“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.
You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”
“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.
The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.
“How do you know Yoongi?”
“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”
The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”
The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.
The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”
“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.
“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”
You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.
“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.
He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.
Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.
Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.
But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.
Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.
Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.
So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.
Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.
At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.
Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.
Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.
Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.
His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.
At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.
He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.
Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.
Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.
And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.
Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.
You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.
You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.
As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.
After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.
It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.
With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.
“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”
Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?
You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.
*Knock…Knock…Knock*
Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.
The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.
“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.
Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.
“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.
Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.
“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”
You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.
Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.
Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.
You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.
You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.
“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.
You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.
“Bosses orders”, the man growled.
Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.
You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.
You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.
Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.
“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.
“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.
You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.
He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.
A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.
“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.
Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.
As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.
Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.
A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.
Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”
You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.
You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.
You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.
Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.
Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.
Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.
“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.
137 notes · View notes
chrispotatos · 3 months
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Fall night - matt sturniolo
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warning: smut, p in v sex, fluff if you squint
summary: you invite your bf matt over to watch a movie and get distracted.
a/n: first time writing smut, tips would be very much appreciated 😭
I was sprawled out on my couch scrolling on my phone, waiting for matt to come over so we can watch a movie together.
a halloween movie at that. I personally thought it was the perfect time, it was drizzling, the sun set, and now night, the only source of light was the street light and the moon. the trees were already turning to their brown and orange color like they always do for the autumn time.
I see a message from matt reading 'im 5 minutes away' the response i gave wasn't one that showed i was excited to see him but gosh i was excited to see that man.
'focus on the road!' I sent, cutting my phone off.
i left the couch and went to my kitchen to make some popcorn.
the microwave was going and i zoned out, hearing a knock at the door ended that. i already knew it was matt so i quickly ran over and opened the door smiling filled with so much excitement, so much so that my cheeks started to hurt.
i threw my arms around his neck, his arm wrapping around me reciprocating the embrace, we stayed like that for atleast a minute. i broke away from the hug looking him up and down, happy to see he actually wore the halloween pajamas he swore he wasn't gonna wear.
"I'm so happy you're here!" i said, my words kinda coming out as a high pitched squel. "Im happy to see you, it's been a while since i was here." he walked over to the sofa sitting down, kicking one foot up on the coffee table infront of him.
"yeah cause i always go to your place" i replied.
while he settled down on the couch i got the popcorn bag and poured it into a bowl and got a blanket out of the little basket in my living room.
"so what movie we watchin?" he grinned turning his head to look at me. "a movie.."
he groaned his smile dropping at my response "y/n, it better not be that nightmare shit" he grabbed the remote, hitting the back button to see the movie title.
"It's 'a nightmare on elm street'!" i corrected him and the disrespect he put on my favorite movie.
"yeah, yeah whatever i don't care. why can't we just watch a classic halloween movie" he complained "and that is?" i raise a brow at him.
"hocus pocus."
"fine, we can watch it but you have to actually pay attention"
I say referring to the many times he picked a movie for us to watch, and he never payed attention either sleeping or on his phone.
--
we were a few minutes into the movie and i couldn't focus on it at all. my eyes constantly wondering off to matt.
admiring how engrossed he was in the tv, his hair messy but also perfectly laying across his forehead.
something about his being made me crave him. i don't know if it was what he was wearing or his natrual pheromones but he just looked so good.
he caught me staring a couple of times but didn't say anything all he did was smirk and shake his head.
"whats up with you?" he questioned, once he caught me staring again. "uh- nothing" i tensed up, avoiding his eyes. no matter how long I've been with him, he still makes me really nervous.
"thats hard to believe, i caught you staring at me for the 10th time"
"nuh- uh ten times is an exaggeration" i replied getting defensive. he just shook his head again chuckling softly looking back at the movie.
"matt.." 'hm?' he hummed, not turning away from the tv.
i turned his head with my hand to kiss him as a response. this is what i needed and some more, the exhilarating rush i get from his touch has my heart racing.
the kiss was aggressive and messy, making me eager for more. our lips fighting for dominance, he laid me back so he was on top.
his hands explored my body kissing down my neck leaving wet kisses sucking and biting on my neck not hard enough to leave any marks.
our bodies grinded against eachother and I could feel him getting hard through the fabric of his pants.
"Im guessing this is what you wanted?" he breathed, "was it that obvious?" i whispered our faces not far from eachother "really" he gave my lips a little peck.
"You want this angel?" he sat up, looking down on me his eyes burning into me. I nodded in response to his question biting my lip, while also growing impatient from not having his touch.
"words. baby. I need you to use-"
"i need you- soso bad" i interrupted. "need me to do what?" he teased tucking my hair behind my ear waiting for my reply.
"stop teasing." I whined
"im not, i just want to know what my girl wants"
"fuck me please fuck me" i begged, grabbing the hand that was on my hair. "please" i whispered. "thats all you had to say" he replied with that dumb smirk on his face.
--
before i knew it he was tugging my shorts down along with my panties.
his right hand going down to my soaked folds, his middle and ring finger rubbing teasingly around my hole. this sent a shiver through my body, and my hips jolted up for more contact and his left hand was quick to push my hips back down. "shit, y/n you're so wet" he groaned.
I grabbed his hand trying to get his fingers to go inside me but he swats my hand away.
"quit it."
his fingers pressed inside of me "so wet" he repeated, a satisfied moan leaves my mouth at the sudden movements and his thumb rubbing my clit.
matts left hand leaves my hip and brings it to my mouth "open"
i opened my mouth and sucked on his fingers, coating them in my saliva, swirling my tounge around them receiving a hitched breath from matt.
he takes his finger out of my mouth placing it back on my hip when i started trying to grind against his hand.
the digits that were inside of me pace quickened. his fingers quickly pumped in and out of me his slender fingers curling hitting all the right places, making a familiar knot form in my stomach. I clenched around matts fingers to try and hold back.
"you must be close huh?"
"so close" a choked whimper comes out. matt pulls his finger out of me.
"wait- what, what did i do. i thought i was doing good. im sorry, I'm so so sorry." i quickly apologized not even knowing why. i just needed to fix whatever i did so he can let me cum.
"you're doing perfectly fine sweetheart i just don't need you to have an orgasm this early on" he reassured, kissing my forehead.
he pulled down his bottoms and the boxers he was wearing. his achingly hard cock sprung out, his pink tip glistening precum. my eyes gawk at the sight mentally preparing myself for the stretch.
matt stroked his length a few times before plunging his dick into me.
" fuck- you're so tight" he whimpered above me, i clench around his cock trying to adjust to his size that was stretching me out.
I grind my hips trying to get him moving. "so impatient" he chuckled, with both hands he holds my hips in place using me for support, to thrust into me.
"ngh- just like that" matt was ball deep inside of me, his hips rutting at a perfect rythm, every thrust was deep, his tip grazing my g spot everytime.
wet sounds, moaning and whimpers can be heard from my living room. this night took an unexpected turn, but it was no suprise this was one of the things we also did when not paying attention to whatever movie that was on.
"I'm soso- close" i squeezed around his dick, to hold back my release but i couldn't all the pleasure was overwhelming "cum for me angel" his words sounded like a relief different from the other times we had sex but i wasn't complaining. he would normally say 'hold it'.
I reached my climax, a shaky moan leaves my lips. matt has yet to cum so he continues to sloppily fuck into me.
"matt- stop im sensitive" i cried out my eyes screwing shut, gripping onto the pillow next to me.
he was quick to pull out, pumping his cock a few times releasing all over my stomach. "fuck" he whispered under his breath
i squeezed my legs shut as soon as he pulled out. I open my eyes to see the mess he made on my tummy, we caught our breath before doing anything and he was first to break the 'silence'
"y- you did so good baby" he praised, rubbing the side of my arm. "thanks" i mumbled
he got dressed and left the living room to do something i don't know what it was but i just sat there waiting for him to come back wrapping a blanket around me.
he came back and carried me bridal style to the bathroom pushing the door open.
He placed me in the warm bath water, he got my loofa lathering it up in soap cleaning my body there was a comfortable silence that filled the air throughout the whole process.
--
I was on my phone while waiting for matt to get out the shower, and he finally got done after a while i look up from my phone seeing him walk over to me. "so you wanna actually watch the movie this time?" He asked
"yep"
a/n: goodnight..
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fairy-writes · 2 months
Text
MY BEST GIRL
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8 
Pairing(s): Hibino Kafka x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Reader is smaller than Kafka, Childbirth
Notes: The title is inspired by what Steve Rogers said to Peggy Carter in “The Winter Soldier.”
PART ONE LINKED HERE
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Ichikawa Reno knew something was off about Hibino Kafka when he came to work the next day, obviously sullen and downtrodden. He kept fidgeting with his wedding ring, something Reno knew he only did when he had something on his mind.
But he wouldn’t say anything.
At least, not until Iharu found out about his marriage three months later.
“You’re WHAT?!” He gaped at Kafka, who looked spooked. His chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth, and he glanced around at the room, which had gone dead silent in shock.
“I’m what?” He asked, dumbfounded until Iharu lunged across the table to grab his left hand and point at the wedding band.
“Reno said you’re married! Since when?!” He demanded, and now everyone was getting interested. Conversations petered out as they all looked over at the commotion.
Kafka noticed everyone staring and promptly panicked. Reno couldn’t help but hide a smile at his flushed pink face and neck.
“We’ve been married for four years! Together for eight!” He squawked awkwardly, and Iharu recoiled as if smacked.
“No way! I don’t believe you!” He complained and looked to Reno, “You don’t believe him either, right?!” He asked, and Reno shrugged.
“I’ve met her. She’s nice.” Was all he said.
That caused an explosion of noise. 
And Reno noticed that Kafka snuck out in the middle of it all.
Of course, he followed him! He waited until Haruichi and Iharu were bickering and slipped out to find Kafka sitting against the wall just outside the dining room, staring blankly at his phone screen.
It was a picture of the both of you, his hand on your belly as the two of you celebrated finding out about your pregnancy. It was the one thing Kafka never shut up about until suddenly, he just stopped talking about it altogether. In fact, Reno was fairly certain that no one besides him and Kafka even knew about it.
Just what had happened?
“Is everything okay?” He asked and Kafka jumped, slamming his head back against the wall.
“Oh, Ichikawa! Yeah… Everything just… Got a bit noisy, is all.” He mumbled the last bit and that’s when Reno knew something was really wrong.
But, as clever as he was, he didn’t know how to make it better.
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Hibino Kafka rolled over in bed until he was on his back and stared at the ceiling. 
His apartment felt empty. 
Cold.
He felt alone.
It had been four months since he had last seen you. By now, you would’ve been close to thirty-somewhat weeks along in your pregnancy. Had you picked out a name? Had you learned the gender yet? What was going to happen to your relationship with him? Were you really going to throw eight years down the drain?
He was just on the edge of dozing when his phone buzzed. He slapped a hand over it, dragging it closer to his face as he rolled onto his side.
Who was texting so late?
Probably Furuhashi sending a cat meme or something…
But it was like a bucket of cold water had been splashed in his face as he read the text.
It was from Haru. Your best friend and older brother. His brother-in-law.
“She’s in labor. She needs you.” 
Straight and to the point, just like he knew Haru to be. Another text and this time it was the address to the hospital. But Kafka already knew how to get there. He could do it with his eyes closed. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and shoes and was out the door before he could even really process what was happening.
You were in labor.
But it was too early! An entire month early! Sure, the baby was likely going to survive, but would you? You were a high-risk pregnancy, especially with this being your first!
Would you be okay?
He made it to the hospital in record time. He all but sprinted up to the labor and delivery ward and met Haru in the hallway. He stopped him in his tracks.
“You came.” He said bluntly, and Kafka huffed,
“Of course I did. Is she okay?” He demanded, and Haru gestured to the room.
“See for yourself.”
He checked in with the nurse coming out of your room, explaining that he was your husband and that you were asking for him. He barely said his name before the nurse ushered him into the room.
You were tired. That much was obvious. The midwife patted the sweat on your forehead with a damp towel, coaxing you through a contraction as you clenched your fists in the blanket as the wave of pain washed over you. But when you heard the door open and shut, you opened your eyes and spotted him. 
“You came.” You whispered, and he gently took the midwife’s spot next to your bed, reaching out to hold your hand. He ignored the pain of your hand squeezing the life out of his and instead smiled, 
“I couldn’t leave my best girl. Not when she needs me.” He replied and saw tears well up in your eyes. 
“But I’ve been horrible to you!” You begin to cry, and he hushes you softly, gently, like he is quieting your child, who is going to be here soon. 
“I made a vow when I married you, didn’t I? I promised I’d be there for you no matter what!” He said firmly but no less gently than he had before. 
Another contraction and the doctor instructed you to push. You let out a guttural scream as you tried with all your might. 
And a baby cried. 
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Text
Some Things You Just Can't Refuse
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Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader
Word Count: 4.7K+
Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.
Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat
A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist 
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Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 
And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.
The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.
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The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 
You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.
While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.
As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.
And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?
“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.
“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 
Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.
“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.
“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”
You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.
“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.
“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.
“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.
“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.
“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.
“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.
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The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 
The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.
You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.
When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.
“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.
“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.
“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”
“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.
“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”
“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.
“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.
“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.
“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 
“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”
“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…
He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 
During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.
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The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 
Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.
There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 
That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.
Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.
Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 
“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.
“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.
“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.
“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.
You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.
After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.
Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 
“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.
“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.
“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.
He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.
Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.
“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.
“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”
Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.
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The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.
It was completely by accident, but no less true. 
Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.
“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”
Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”
You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”
“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.
“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.
“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.
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The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.
Clark wanted to wait- 
No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 
Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 
At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.
He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”
You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 
How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?
“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 
“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.
“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”
“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”
“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”
“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”
“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.
As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.
Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.
“Clark?”
“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.
“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.
You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 
He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.
“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.
“Unicorn is my safe word.”
“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”
“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.
“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 
You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.
“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”
You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 
As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.
“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.
“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.
You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.
With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.
Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 
When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.
“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”
That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 
“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 
When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.
“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 
The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.
When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 
Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.
You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.
“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 
“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.
“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.
Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.
Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.
“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”
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The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.
Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 
A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.
Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.
This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 
He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.
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A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.
**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67
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Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz  😁 Also if you want to be removed from tags, lemme know!
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angsthology · 9 months
Text
“i am on work trip vacation” — or an alt title: what happens when a group of f1 drivers go on a getaway together
a houseboat sounds like a great idea! ...right?
a/n HELLAUR this was mostly inspired by that one mofy episode “lake life” which to me is very underrated i love that episode SO much. anyway here it is it kinda ended up not how i wanted it to be in the first place but oh well :)
THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD
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to be perfectly honest, no one really remembered whose idea it was for them to do this. theoretically, it did sound like a good idea until someone else had the amazing idea:
“what if we rented a houseboat… for all of us…”
the group blinked at the suggestion.
roo, who had been standing next to lando mumbled to him lowly, “are we that close?”
the question made the two turns to each other for eye contact, when their eyes met, lando shrugged.
their attentions were brought away when max spoke up from his seat.
“yeah, but who is paying?”
the group turned to look at each other before agreeing through eye contact and all turn to the dutch driver.
“what? why? this isn’t even my idea!”
“yeah, but…” the group turned to the first porsche driver, “you keep winning…”
he threw his hands in the air, “what?! what does that have to do with anything?”
“you make the most money…” lando answered for her, the words slowly forming in his mouth, “you bought a whole aircraft, a boat won’t hurt your wallet.”
in response, he got a look from the redbull driver.
the woman next to him walked forward, “how about this; you’ve ruled the land, the asphalt if you must; you’ve also had your reign in the air, isn’t it time for you to have something to dominate the seas…?” she carefully propositioned, eyes searching the unreadable dutch looking for any sort of answer.
until eventually, his eyes lit up looking her way, “you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.
“i know, thanks.” she smugly smiled at his reaction.
shortly after, the man speedily walked off somewhere else leaving her with the rest of the grid.
she huffed with a smile playing at her lips, “men are so easy.”
fast forward to where they are now; lando trying to figure out the concept of charles’ attempt at eggs, the latter suspected to be on some kind of edible (currently being silently investigated by george and alex), lance passed out on the couch in an interesting position with his blanket over his face to shield it from the sun, the rest out on deck or still asleep in their rooms.
just as lando did another poke of his… egg? roo walked down the steps from where all the rooms were, eyes still lidded with sleep, hands stretching with a yawn.
“mornin’.” she greeted, the rest present in the room strung along good mornings as such.
walking over to the smell of burning, she felt the ground tilt to the side, making her lose her balance following where the dip goes. the rest in the room too fully woke up at the tilt—a large horn following. lance, emerging from his blanket and sitting half up grumpily, lando quickly grabbing his plate of eggs to stop it from falling off the counter (though, he regretted doing so, he would much rather the eggs get eaten by the floor rather himself.)
the aston martin driver on the couch then snatched the walkie-talkie on the coffee table next to him and barked into it, “VERSTAPPEN!”
max, happily conducting in his captain’s deck, apologized through the walkie sheepishly, “ehe—sorry.”
from out on the deck, came the sound of the french, “honey, slow down, you are waking up the kids.” just as he put the walkie-talkie back on the table next to him, pierre heard the response coming from the same channel,
“gasly, i will throw you overboard.”
just as he grumbled that, the second haas driver stumbled down the stairs, face still a little sleepy (naturally).
“someone’s grumpy this morning.” he commented before taking a seat next to alex on the dining table behind the counter where lando hastily stared at a piece of his egg.
“fuck off.” he grumbled before covering his face with his blanket once more.
george, sat across of mick, stared at his co-worker still drifting off on the table, “‘horn wake you?”
“no, radio.” he mumbled.
the girl finally went back to walking over to the ferrari driver in the kitchen.
“what’s cookin’, mcqueen?” she greeted.
he looked back to her smiling then continuing his focus on the pan, “eggs!”
the woman looked towards the brit with a plate on the counter, raising her brows for confirmation. in response, he frowned with his eyes closed, shaking his head.
at that, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a cup before walking over to where lando sat and hauled herself up into the stool.
“here goes nothing.” she heard the whisper from the side, looking over to see lando carefully putting the piece of egg in his mouth with his eyes closed.
she cringed when she heard a crunch coming from his bite.
“i think that was a shell…” he cried.
the girl beside him frowned and pat his back just as carlos walked down the stairs, behind him two large dogs followed.
she gasped at the sight, “good morning, babies,” she greeted sweetly, crouching down to pet the two dogs.
passing by, carlos smiled, “good morning, sweetheart.”
roo gave him a side-eye as he passed, snickering, she said, “sure.” her expression then turning to one of adoration when she pat her dogs once more.
her attention moved when charles greeted his teammate, “good morning, calos, how do you take your eggs?”
“like god made them,” he said before cracking an egg and pouring them straight into his mouth.
everyone turned to him in shock and disgust, roo herself shrieked at the sight.
“what the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelped in disgust.
charles, face straight, “oh, right, i forgot about that.”
from the dining table, george questioned, “you do that every day? i just do it when i have a nasty hangover…”
carlos looked at him and paused, nodding before answering, “yes.”
roo then laughed smugly into her glass.
“what are you laughin’ at sally?” asked the spaniard.
“i don’t get hangovers.” she bragged, hand reaching over to the bowl of fruit in front of her. her smug face dropped when she held the too-light banana, “what the fuck? are these fucking plastic?!”
charles then turn around and grimaced seeing the look on her face, “oh, yeah, forgot to tell you.” he the paused, contemplating on what he says next, “if you see a bite mark on the apple… no you don’t.”
george then intruded, “wait, wait. i want to go back to how you don’t get hangovers…”
“yeah—how does that even work?” alex asked next.
she shrugged, “well… how it works is that… i don’t drink. —besides champagne that is,” she added with a smile.
“wait what—”
she clapped her hands together, “conversation’s over, i’m going to take my kids for a walk—lando, stop trying to feed them your eggs they only eat things that are edible.”
the ‘cook’ turned around fully offended, “hey!”
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“so…”
“please don’t try to make conversation. it’s bad enough you’re here.” again, it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, but it often came out like that. —she really did hope lando didn’t take it like that.
he scoffed, “oh, come off it, you love me.” he said, while throwing a hand over her shoulder.
the four—lando, roo, bennie, and jet, that is—were currently wandering around the island their boat had docked to. so far on their walk there hasn’t been anything interesting in the island besides the occasional inhabitants of the island (ones that are only visible to the woman anyway).
suddenly, lando let go of her shoulder and went to check his pockets, “oh, right, that reminds me; these has been weighing my pants—”
her attention unmoving, she cut him off, “that or you need a belt.”
he rolled his eyes and continued, “whatever, can you hold this in your pocket.”
finally, that brought her out of her trance, “oh wait—”
she turned around to warn him but it was too late, lando had dropped the item in the pocket hole of her pants only to see it fall to the ground instead.
“wait what—” he grabbed the item off the floor and tried to put it back in her pocket, seeing if he had missed it before only to see it fall to the ground through it again. “what the hell?” without warning, lando put his hand in her pocket all the way through and low and behold; his hand had went through it and peaked out of the bottom of her pants.
he stared at her in confusion.
“yeah, i was going to tell you: my pockets have holes in them.”
“well, no shit, i can fit my entire hand through this—hell, i can even fit both.” he asserted almost going high-pitched. his eyes then changed, visibly remembering a detail she mentioned, “wait—pockets? as in both?”
she rolled her eyes, “yes, drama queen. now can you get your hand out of my pants, do you know how weird this looks?”
“oh, yeah, to who? the wind?” he stated sarcastically as he pulled his hand out of her pocket—if it can still be called that.
the girl was about to answer but her eyes caught something that made her eyes almost pop out of their socket. her hand immediately takes a hold of lando’s upper arm.
“ow!”
ignoring his complains, her eyes still trained on whatever it is she saw and started pulling on his arm.
the brit was still busy complaining on how hard her hand’s grip on his arm was to look up but he still managed to answer, “what?!”
“i think—i think we should uh—go back to shore, y’know, it’s almost lunch, they could be looking for us.”
“no it’s not, it’s only like—” he checks his watch, “—eleven am.” he continues to complain.
but when he couldn’t feel as much pain as before he looked up to see his friend already gone along with the two dogs. he threw his hands in the air, “wha— damn it, roo!”
when he made it back to the beach, she was nowhere to be found, instead he was met with the rottie instead, “oh, hey, bennie, where’s your mum, huh?” he crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind his ear, bennie barked in response.
he—the dog—then turned around and walked over to the side where a white and minty-green volleyball laid, piquing an interest from lando.
when he walked over and grabbed the ball, he heard a call from the other side of the beach.
“oi! you wanna join us for a game?” danny yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.
without another thought, lando stood up and ran over to the group and joined them. surprisingly enough when he looked to his left, there his friend stood after ditching him in the woods.
he threw his hands in the air when he saw her, “here you are! what the hell was that earlier?”
opting for the easy way out, she replied, “saw something you can’t, you don’t want to know.”
lando—who she knew would steer clear of any further topics involving her abilities—accepted the answer quickly and went back to focusing on the upcoming game.
“so, what’s the game here?” asked the brit.
“it was gonna be two on two but since you’re here i guess, three it is. whose team do you want to be in?”
lando then mulled over his options, go with daniel and mick against roo and zhou or… the other way around. then he remembered just how strong the girl was—he got flashbacks from various sports he had played against her and ones he saw her play, he wasn’t risking it.
“i think i’m gonna stay here, what about you, though? you need one more player?”
the australian looked around until his eyes landed on the rottweiler, a grin made its way to his face, “bennie! c’mere boy!”
when the rottie obliged, roo’s jaw dropped in betrayal.
“first mick! now you too? betrayed by my own boys…”
the german shrugged.
after that, the game went on for a good few minutes. along the lines of those minutes the following had happened;
“what the hell, dan?!”
said man had done an overhand serve with the ball, accidentally aiming it straight where the woman was hitting her upper chest—luckily enough she had managed to save it. but, still, she was a little bit offended.
he couldn’t help but laugh at his own actions—which he swore he didn’t mean to do.
still laughing (all the while the game was still going on), he continues to apologize through it, “i am so sorry karen smith, i swear, it was an accident.”
after that little incident, the girl made it her number one mission to find the right timing for payback.
when she did, she gave it her all into passing that ball hitting it towards the australian’s lower region.
unfortunately for her and luckily for him, he dodged just in time letting it hit the sand instead—unfortunately giving her team a point.
daniel and mick’s eyes were still trained where the ball had landed, seeing how harshly it hit the ground—daniel looked at it more with relief than he’d like to admit.
he turned around from the ball to look at her with ‘offense’, “dude!” he threw his hands up.
without wasting another breath, she pointed at him threateningly, “you hit my boobs! —i target you.”
in return, daniel raised both his hands in surrender and walked backwards to grab the ball and resume the game.
an hour or two later the game finished with daniel and mick on the losing team, leaving the other three in a high.
after high fiving both her teammates, the girl embraced the two men in purpose of gloating, she made sure to say audibly, “so, how did it feel like scoring your first win, boys?” she asked the two, though her eyes stayed on the two opposing teammates.
zhou smiled happily, seemingly glad that he could just participate at all, “feels pretty good, i must say.”
although lando wasn’t quite impressed by her question, “man, shut the fuck up.” he said, slipping out of her embrace to make his way over to the dock with the other five following behind.
“that’s not fair, you play aggressive.” daniel complained half-jokingly.
she was taken aback, “no i wasn’t, are you sure?”
knowing her, he knew her words were genuine(ly confused).
he wrapped his hand and smiled down at her cheekily, muttering lowly, “you don’t know your own strength.”
when they arrived on the boat, the first thing she saw the moment she stepped on the last step up was pierre, still calmly perched on his sun lounger with only his sunglasses protecting him.
the girl stared at him with questioning eyes, “have you moved? like, at all?”
“non.”
she all but shrugged, leaving him to burn under the sun.
when she entered the kitchen slash dining room slash living room, she was greeted with the hypnotizing smell of the food that filled the table—well, what was left of the food.
just as she was walking around said table, she heard the tapping of paws against the wooden floor and before she knew it, she was tackled by the doberman happily greeting her.
“hey, sweetheart, where have you been?” she scratched the dog’s head happily accepting her affection then suddenly being approached by a smaller collie she weren’t too familiar with, “and you… brought a friend?” she carefully stretched her hand out to pet the mystery puppy, “and who do you belong to buddy?”
“mine, actually.” the blonde thai entered the room with a water bottle in his hand. “his name’s otter, or, otto.”
“awh,” she pouted at the information before looking down at the puppy once again, “i love you.” she unhesitatingly hugs the puppy who then wags his tail with even more energy.
alex was about to comment but she beat him to it, “hey, what happened to everyone?”
“uhh—i think esteban took lance out on a boat,”
“i didn’t know ocon was capable of that.”
“not every two-people getaway is in the purpose of murder.”
“sure, tell yourself that.”
“whatever; charles is terrorizing yuki somewhere and carlos went to the bait shop in the island with george.”
“bait shop? is that a bar? there’s a bar here?”
“no– just a normal bait shop… for… fishing… you do know?”
“yes.”
“oh, hey, that reminds me; i’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t fernando agree to this, again? i would assume he would jump at the chance at the first mention of lake.”
the alpine driver was currently calmly lounging on his chair doing whatever it is people his age does when suddenly two of the younger drivers on the grid appeared behind him.
he paused whatever he was doing when he felt the presence of two demons giggling behind him, he turned around quickly with a flat expression.
“what do you two want?”
they only giggled when he look at them dead in the eyes, earning raised brows expectantly from him.
the man heard whispers of “you say it”, “no you say it” bounced back and forth from the two.
“just say it.” he ordered the moment they got on his last nerve. (well, they were already on his last nerve the moment they arrived but now it was in the negatives.)
the british of the two decided to be the one to start, “we just wondered why… how—”
“we were just wondering why you haven’t turned to dust under the sun.” she cut him off.
now giggling again, lando continued, “it’s just we’re worried, this lake trip is going to have a lot of sun exposure.”
“we still like you, nan.” she finished, both of them continuing their giggling spree.
“you know what, that’s it.” he stood up from his chair, no longer feeling the relaxing peace and quiet he did before, “just like that, i’m not going. you kids are driving me crazy and i need this break.”
their faces dropped at the sudden ‘outburst’, both of them scurrying behind him to beg and plead for his mercy.
“uhh—he already had other plans.” she paused, then looking over him, “and what are you doing here?”
“trying to find a frisbee for the three of us.”
she tilted her head in question.
“me, otto, and… jet.”
“oh. alright, go nuts.” she then stands up from the ground, popping her head out the window that goes out to the deck, “mick, lan, dan, zhou, any of you eaten anything yet?”
she got a chorus of no’s and not yet’s in response.
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“i—you are seeing this, correct?”
“looking at the same thing as you are.”
after a good lunch break with the four men, they all had went their separate ways to spend the afternoon and after a lot of exploring, roo found her way back to the deck where the alphatauri driver is still lounging. though now he is fast asleep, —and sunburnt.
she didn’t say anything else opting for nodding her head and slowly moving to the sun lounger beside her—vision directly facing the burnt french.
seeing as she was no longer standing next to him, he crouched down, “what are you thinking about, cariño?”
she shrugged, “nothing… just going to relax here.”
safe to say he did not trust her answer, he squinted as he stood back up.
the spaniard crossed his arms, “can i trust you…”
at that, the woman looks up craning her neck, she then pulls down her sunglasses to bat her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.
he couldn’t help but reciprocate her energy. with one last smile, he turned around, and by chance he was met with lance who were just passing by. he grabbed the aston martin driver and whispered warningly—all the ‘sweetness’ from his previous encounter dropped, “that is a smile of a con-woman. do not trust her, watch her.”
before lance could even react, carlos was already long gone.
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something bad had happened. he left for ten good minutes and he already heard the french-accented sound of agony coming from the deck.
next thing he knew, he was already there with the rest of the drivers all crowded there too to witness what just happened—arriving just in time for the sound of splashing on the side of the boat could be heard.
roo was already there with her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the man overboard.
all the drivers followed where she was and where her eyes were brightly looking at with a cackle, squished together to all stand along the boat railings to see the emerging alphatauri driver from under the waters.
the girl, still laughing her ass off was getting cursed out in french, even hearing her full name coming out of her mouth.
carlos immediately snapped his head towards her direction, “what did you do?!”
she was still far too busy laughing, leaving the frenchman to answer angrily for her, “espèce de connard!” he cursed at her, “she fucking slapped my sunburn!”
that statement itself had made lando spilt a single cackle, zhou and mick covering their mouth in self-control after imagining pierre’s words.
said man give the three a large glare that didn’t really change their state.
the spaniard then turned to lance with eyes wide, “i told you to watch her!”
“i’m not her babysitter!” he defended, “—lando is! i gave him a fifty-dollar bill to do it!” he continued his defense. (which quite frankly didn’t help him much.)
“so you gave a child a job to watch another child?!” carlos fumed.
“i— well you got me there.” the canadian shrugged and let go of it.
lando, hearing his name, quickly chimed in with offense lacing his tone, “hey! in my defense; i handed the job over to charles!”
everyone then turned to the resident monégasque. he threw his hands in defense, when he spoke his tone a lot less defense-y more reasoning, “what? i am on vacation, i’m not babysitting!”
of all this happening, they all failed to notice the angry frenchman emerging from the stairs—skin red and dripping with lake water.
his wet steps walked slowly towards the culprit—the war criminal in a diy ripped clothing, “count your days.” he threatened lowly, accent thicker than usual, before walking inside the houseboat funnily, body still aching from his ‘little’ predicament.
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te1enoviyuh 🎵 Pitbull, Marc Anthony • Rain Over Me (feat. Marc Anthony)
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liked by awstenknight, f1, and 6,835,736 others
tagged: carlossainz55
te1enoviyuh D.O.G. — drivers only getaway
two notes for this one:
pierregasly i am... sorry, truly
@ all of u, youve all behaved accordingly so i gift u this picture he took when my phone went missing apparently
see all 2,836 comments.
selvnika oh this gave me a whiplash actually
dunphyrrari selvnika ure so right for this queen
thesainzist HELLO
thesainzist GOOD MORNINGGG SAILOR
thesainzist i thank u for ur service u are a god 🙏🏼
pierregasly die
siriuslyricciardo pierregasly NAHH I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT BOAT
backbiteroo pierregasly tea is BOILING
te1enoviyuh backbiteroo his skin actually
pierregasly te1enoviyuh PÉRIR
mclarenovia watch them be super cryptic about this whole getaway
sixteenparx awsten at the scene of the crime once again 📸
awstenknight sixteenparx CAN YOU JUST LET ME LIVE
sixteenparx awstenknight no
aepsainz YARG
aepsainz on behalf of chillination we thank you and owe you for your service we will never forget this 💪🏿
sebastianvettel Have fun!
liked by te1enoviyuh
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taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know if u wanna be added <3
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after-witch · 1 year
Text
Horrorfest: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]
Title: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]
Synopsis: "I think I'm being haunted," you say. "By the ghost of my dead best friend."
For Horrorfest request:
Dabi with the movie Candyman?
Word Count: 1084
notes: yandere, implied kidnapping
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“I think I’m being haunted.” 
The words come out so fast that you’re not entirely sure that your friend heard them at first, until she gives you a look that is a mixture of pity, confusion  and--maybe you’re imagining it--curiosity. 
“By my best friend’s ghost,” you continue, when she doesn’t say anything. You stumble a bit over the words, realizing how crazy it sounds, how out-there. Especially to your friend who has never given so much as an inkling that she believes in anything remotely supernatural. 
“He died when we were younger--there was a fire, and…” 
You shake your head, unwilling to go further. 
Your friend reaches out, touches your arm. When you look up, she’s got the softest, kindest expression on her face. A smile, subtle and warm, with a twitch of knowing anxiety behind it.
“I know something that might help.”
--
You wake up, breath hitching, sweat covering the back of your head, making your hair and pillowcase damp and uncomfortably warm. 
--
“All you have to do is say their name in the mirror three times,” your friend told you. “And they will appear to you.” She paused. “You could try to get closure. Or at least know that you’re not crazy.” She laughed a little, but the sound didn’t match her expression. 
It was your turn to look confused--and curious.
“My neighbor had a problem with a ghost,” she clarified. You stared, and she bit her lip. “And… so did I, once.”
You frowned. She had never mentioned it, not even once. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your friend shrugged.
“You probably wouldn’t have believed me back then.”
You said nothing, because she was probably right on that count. You didn’t really believe in ghosts yourself until a few weeks ago. 
That was when it all started--the haunting. 
Items missing from your apartment, treasured things. Your old stuffed bear. A photo of you and Touya as children, and that hurt the most, because it was the only one you still had. 
Your mother had misplaced your photo album before you moved out, but this one, the one you kept in a frame on your bookshelf, had been spared. Admittedly, the photo frame had gotten dusty, but so had other things from your childhood.
And now it was gone. Who would take it? Not some petty thief. Nothing valuable was missing. Just your personal treasures, and trinkets.
And then there were the noises. Footsteps in the night. The sound of a cupboard opening and shutting in the morning, before you got out of bed; sometimes they were left open, and your fingers twitched while you shut them.
And… you swear, you swear this is true, you began to get the distinct feeling that you were being watched. During the night, and then during the day. While you tried to sleep. While you showered. While you ate what simple meals you threw together, unable to focus much on cooking or shopping as time went on.
If what your friend told you is true, maybe you can get some closure. 
Maybe you can ask Touya to stop haunting you. 
Maybe you can tell him you’re sorry.
--
This isn’t going to work. It can’t work. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.
You take a breath, then another. You’re just anxious. You’re just… frayed.
Nothing will happen, probably, and you’ll realize that this has all just been some walking fever dream, the end-result of too much stress from university and your job and all the villain attacks in the area. Your mind has clearly retreated to the last time you felt understood, safe, comfortable; aching for the hole left by the loss of your best friend, a hole that could never be filled no matter how much dirt you tried to shovel into it.
Your fingers fumble with the matches in the darkness of the bathroom. You were tempted to leave the door open, but your friend was clear on that count: it needs to be as dark as possible when you complete the ritual. 
There’s the telltale sound of the match strike, the faint scent of sulfur. And then the match is lit and you quickly hold it down towards the tea candles you set up on the bathroom counter. When they’re lit, the bathroom is less dim, but no less frightening. If anything, the flickering candlelight bouncing off the walls gives the room (and your reflection) a strangeness that makes your chest tighten.  
Just… do it. Do it and get it over with, and if nothing happens, then you can call a therapist to work through your clearly ongoing grief and stress issues. But if it does work, then maybe… maybe.
You exhale, closing your lips a little, and look straight into the mirror. 
“Touya… Touya… Touya.”
A moment, then another. Then another. 
But the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. There is no rippling, no blurring, no appearance of the ghost of your dead friend. Nothing at all, except your own tired face and the flickering yellow-orange light of candles. 
A low ache blooms in your chest. What were you expecting? That his ghost would show up in the mirror and forgive you for not being there for him, forgive you for letting his picture get dusty, forgive you for living the life he never did? 
You scoff at yourself, at the ember-lit reflection in the mirror.
And then the bathroom door behind you creaks open, and every nerve in your body stands on edge.
The reflection in the mirror does change, then. Not replacing yours but showing a figure standing behind you. Not just a figure--
Touya is standing behind you.
Only his hair is black and he is burnt and it’s Touya, Touya, Touya burnt from the fire and here to drag you to hell or drive you crazy or something incomprehensible in between.  
You turn, slowly, aware of his reflection in the mirror, aware of the way adrenaline has taken away your ability to feel your body.
“Touya,” you say, voice hoarse. I’m sorry, how are you, why are you here, why have you been haunting me--all these words stick to the roof of your mouth.
The specter grips your wrists with all-too-warm hands, and oh, oh, this is not a specter but flesh and blood before you, something twisted and wrong but wholly alive.
“Not anymore,” he breathes out, and he smells of sulfur and ash. 
The candles behind you all snuff into darkness at the same time. 
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weareapackofstrays · 8 months
Text
A New Kind of Love: Chapter I
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Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), angst, romance, drama
Pairing: Minho x F!Reader
Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 1,958
Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.
A/N: This is my first fic ever to be posted and will likely not be great, but gotta start somewhere, right? I would love any feedback or thoughts (but please be nice or I might cry).
Song that was on repeat while I wrote this and thus became the title
Chapter I: Introduction Next
“Fuck, right there!” you shout as your nails dig into the hand gripping your waist.
“Like that?” Kyle, your usual drunken mistake, confirms.
“Yes! Ahhh,” you can feel your high fast-approaching. 
“God, you look so filthy like this, sweetheart! Gonna fill you up.” Your dress is pushed up to your waist while your breasts spill over the top exposing them to the cool air. Kyle admires your bare ass jiggling with each of his thrusts. 
You roll your eyes at your partner’s words and do your best to focus on your orgasm. It’s not that you hate the guy, you just couldn’t really stand him either. He was a frat boy and far from your type, but you were both drunk, horny, and he always happened to be conveniently around when you needed some attention. So fast forward to now, where you are currently shoved against the door of the upstairs bathroom of whoever’s house this was getting your guts rearranged. 
“I’m gonna come!” you announce.
“Yeah, come for me, baby! Come all over my big fat cock,” he preens as he slams into you.
“Kyle, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” He laughs while his tip kisses your sweet spot perfectly. You moan at the blissful sensation. His free hand grabs hold of your hair and yanks your head back suddenly. The unexpected force causes a groan to escape from your throat. Kyle begins to pick up the pace and gives your right ass cheek a loud smack. Just as the searing pain registers, you finally come with a gasp. He shoves your face further into the door as he works towards his own high. After a few more ruts, he empties himself into the condom and finally pulls out. 
“We gotta stop meeting like this, sweetheart.” Kyle smirks as he buttons his jeans and adjusts his belt. 
You pull up your panties and face him, “This is the last time, Kyle.”
“Sure it is, babe.” He gives you a wink and an air kiss as he turns to the sink to wash his hands. Even you could hear the lack of confidence in your voice. Ignoring his comment, you fix your makeup and hair, tug at the base of your dress one last time, and exit the bathroom. The two of you descend the stairs back into the chaos of the party. The music is thumping in your skull and the five hunch punches you threw back earlier are starting to get to you. You want to leave.
Kyle leans, more like stumbles, into your side and shouts, “Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” You instinctually cringe away from his close proximity and loud voice.  
“Sure,” you say with a nod. After Kyle disappears into the crowd, you push your way through the partygoers and find the front door. 
Finally outside, your ears take a moment to adjust to the silence. It was dead quiet outside with scarcely anyone around, save for a few people huddled together enjoying a smoke. You take a deep breath and let the cold air sting your lungs. A breeze cuts through you and you immediately regret your choice in outfit tonight. Luckily, your house was a short walk away. You step onto the paved sidewalk and can feel your legs wobble slightly. Your heels were also not the best choice for a walk. Okay, Y/n, focus, you think to yourself. Taking a few more tentative steps, you find your stride and head home.
You moved into the basement apartment of an old brick house from the 30’s at the start of the semester. The main floors above belonged to some guys who you rarely ever saw and, honestly, probably couldn’t pick them out of a crowd if your life depended on it. You had only had a few conversations with one of the guys, Jisung was his name…you think. He introduced himself a few days after you moved in while you were checking the mail on the front porch. 
-
“You must be our new neighbor,” you jump, taken aback by the sudden announcement. Turning to face the source of the voice, you see a brunette boy with round cheeks looking at you with doe eyes. He reaches his hand out to greet you. 
“Yeah…hi,” you say shyly as you take hold of his hand.
“I’m Jisung.” He flashes you a gummy smile.
“Y/n.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” he says as he releases your hand.
“You too.”
“If you ever need a cup of sugar or a good weed guy-” Jisung waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “We’re just a few steps and a knock away.” He gives you a salute before going back inside the house. Well, he was adorable, you thought. You only ever saw his roommates in passing and had only exchanged a few words with Jisung since, but he was always kind to you. 
-
As you finally approach the house, you reach inside your pocketbook to grab a cigarette and lighter. Hands shaking, you repeatedly click the lighter, but it refuses to work.
“Shit,” you quietly say to yourself. You were about to give up when a figure steps out from the shadows and alights a bright flame before your eyes. After a moment of adjusting to the darkness you see a man standing beside you, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. You look at him bewildered, before you dip your head down. He holds his hand in front of you to protect the flame from the breeze. You take a drag of the cigarette and slowly exhale the smoke from the side of your mouth to avoid blowing in his face.
“Thanks.” He simply nods in response. You take a moment to look him over while he tries to light his own cigarette. He was broad, but lean with dark brown hair. He was also handsome, like super handsome. What the hell? Have you seen him around before? Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his, right? He furrows his brows as he leans in closer to his flame. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms revealing a few large tattoos. You take note of his protruding veins and involuntarily gulp at the sight. He finally lights the cigarette and takes a puff before facing you. You peel your eyes from his toned arms to meet his. The man quietly smirks as he catches your roaming eyes. 
“I’m Lee Minho, by the way. I don’t think we ever officially met.” He gives you a lazy wave rather than a handshake. 
“Y/n,” you wave back and internally cringe at yourself. “You’re a roommate of Jisung’s?”
“Yeah, I live,” he turns around and points to the top window on the right. “Right there.”
“Nice,” was all you could think to say. You look away and take another puff of your cigarette while rubbing your temple. The consequences of tonight’s actions were swiftly starting to catch up. 
Minho stirs you from your thoughts. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You’re taken aback by his assumption. He notices your confusion and clears his throat. “I just mean I never see you out here,” he says awkwardly. “And I assume you wouldn’t in that tiny basement.”
You consider momentarily whether or not he was insulting your apartment before speaking. “I..I don’t usually. Honestly, just socially or when I’m drunk.”
He slowly raises his eyebrows as he exhales some smoke. “Are you drunk right now?” His face furrows again. You wonder if that is his natural state.
“Maybe just a smidge,” you make a pinching gesture with your fingers and lightly giggle.
His face turns serious. “You shouldn’t be walking around this late at night by yourself, especially if you’re intoxicated. Something could happen to you.” You’re amused by his interest in your safety. 
“Yes, daddy,” you say back a little too sarcastically. 
Something shifts in his eyes though you can’t quite make out his expression. You feel his eyes bore into you despite part of his face being hidden by shadow. You, on the other hand, are at a disadvantage as the beams from the street lamp illuminate your face. Minho can see the pink rapidly forming on your cheeks. Trying not to cower at his intense stare, you hold his gaze for a minute before he finally breaks the tension.
“Do you normally dress like this in the middle of November?” He gestures to your tight, short black dress.
“I was coming from a party.”
“I gathered.” You scoff at his attitude. “Still, seems a bit reckless walking around without a coat.”
“What are you? The weather police?” You stand up a bit straighter and cross your arms.
“No-” You cut him off before he can continue.
“Does the way I dress bother you?” Officially annoyed, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Maybe you are more drunk than you originally realized.
“No.” Minho’s expression remains emotionless as he can see the anger rise in you. Taking a few wobbly steps towards him, you point your finger into his chest and ignore how solid he feels beneath to continue your beration.
“I can dress however I want regardless of the weather. I can also casually smoke a cigarette or drink a few drinks whenever I want and I don’t need anyone judging my actions, let alone a man I just met 5 minutes ago.” You slightly sway as you retreat from him. Minho gently places a hand on your right shoulder to steady you. The warmth from his touch sends a shiver down your spine through to your core.
“Okay, princess. Whatever you say.” You wrinkle your nose at the pet name and he notices your disapproval. 
“Okay, princess,” you say back in a mimicking tone.
“Do I need to help you get to your apartment?”
“I’m fine,” you brush his hand off your shoulder with your own and feel your stomach flutter at the touch. You curse yourself internally for being so affected by this annoying handsome man.
“There are stairs and you’re in,” he looks down at your 4 inch heels and points. “Those.”
The audacity of this man right now. “Now he judges my choice in shoes!” You tsk and throw your hands in the air. “I can see myself all of 10 feet to my front door just fine without you. Thank you very much.” You take one last drag of your cigarette before throwing it to the ground. Your front heel presses firmly into the bud to snuff out the embers. Once out, you bend down to pick up the extinguished bud. Minho takes a moment to admire your bent figure in front of him before you stand up again. 
“Wow, a feminist and she doesn’t litter.” You walk past him ignoring his comment. “Good night, Y/n. It was nice meeting you,” he says with sarcastic cheer.
Still walking away, you lift your hand up and flip him off as you head to your door. He shakes his head laughing as he watches you arrive safely. He takes one more drag from his cigarette before turning in for the night.
Holding the knob you pause before entering. You listen for his steps as he walks up the porch to his door. You try to clandestinely peek around the corner to get one last look at him. Minho is about to twist the handle when he feels your gaze. He looks over and catches your eye. Before you can see his reaction, you quickly look away and open your door. Slamming it shut you lean against the cold metal and exhale. Your heart starts fluttering in your chest.
Fuck.
MASTERLIST
Let me know what you think!
I will try to post Chapter II tomorrow.
-
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thoughtless-muse · 5 months
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a/n: the title (and some other parts of the story) are inspired by the song ‘bad blood’ by taylor swift and no, i am not ashamed of it lmao. this is my first time ever diving into this type of story, so I’m equal parts excited and terrified. if you have any critiques/tips, please let me know below! also, “scout’s honor” is by no means abandoned. I’m going to be writing/posting chapters of each story at their own pace :)
chapter summary: you had been alone for over a month now, combating against stumbling dead people who slobbered for your flesh. when a random stranger finds you in the aftermath of a blackout, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to join his group. but he did, and in a desperate move to escape those four walls, you accepted – not knowing at all what was in store for you.
word count: 2.4k
c/w: canon-typical violence/gore, sassy!reader, fem!reader, language, past-established relationship, very subtle allusions to a troubled past
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prologue
“hey, lady, are you, uh… are you okay?”
the words were garbled and a tad distorted, and for a moment, you thought you’d merely conjured the voice from the depths of your frayed conscious — but the boyish face that stared down at you when you fluttered your eyes open threw that theory straight out of the window.
for a moment, you simply stared in silence. you stared at the boy’s face, taking note of the pink flush of life to his flesh — not gray, not rotted, not bloody; pink. his face was clammy, sweaty, with the skin pulled in different directions to paint an expression of worry; an honest to god expression.
a person. this was a living, breathing, real person standing above you. at least, he seemed real enough, but —
“are you real?”
the question bubbled, croaky and hoarse, past your lips before you could reign it in. the boy scrunched his bushy brows together and his squinted eyes narrowed until they were near closed. a clear expression of confusion. huh, another expression.
“um, yeah, I am.” the boy responded, though, in his bewilderment, the statement sounded more like a question than a fact. a laugh wrenched itself from your chest.
“you don’t sound too confident about that, mystery man.”
“I-I’ve just never been asked that question before.” the boy sputtered, a tad defensively, lips pulling into a frown. expression after expression from this one, it seemed.
“I haven’t had to ask that question before,” you grumbled out. pain pinched your ribs when you propped yourself up on your elbows, no longer feeling the need to lay flat on the warm pavement. “don’t exactly see new faces in the city much, let alone breathing ones.”
“you mean you’ve been in the city this whole time?” the boy exclaimed quietly; his eyes were wide now, revealing orbs the shade of dark chocolate. they weren’t fogged over, dead, or unseeing, but glassy and expressive. human.
a ragged, raspy croak broke off your sentence before you could even start it. your muscles jolted in response, but before you could react, the boy let out a shocked yelp that was followed quickly by a wet squelch right next to you. you trailed your eyes down to find a small hand-ax splitting the rotted flesh of the groaner to your right. the one you swore you’d killed not long ago.
“huh. thought I got that one,” you noted mellowly, swinging your eyes back up to the boy to give him a small nod. “thanks.”
“yeah, uh, no problem.” the boy panted, returning your nod. his eyes darted from side to side before he thrust out a hand to you. all you could do was stare at it.
“it’s not safe out here in the open. we should really get inside a building or something,” the man suggested, words edged with subtle nervousness. you scanned your surroundings slowly; there was a cluster of groaners shuffling towards you, but they were at least twenty yards away — not much of a threat given the granny crawl they were traveling at.
mystery man, however, became more nervous at the sight of them.
“c’mon, I know a place that’s clear. it’s not far from here.” he urged, extended hand trembling faintly. you let out a huff and grasped it with your own. your ribs bloomed with pain once again when the man hauled you up, but you bit back the groan that it prompted; you’d had worse than this, and you’d long since learned to suck it up and just keep truckin’.
when you were stable on your feet the man released your hand and reached down to free the hand-ax from the fallen groaner’s head, his face scrunching in disgust at the wet sucking sound the action elicited. it actually amused you to an extent.
“okay, mystery man, lead the way to safety.” you stated flippantly, manipulating your arm in a ‘the stage is yours’ sort of gesture. the man gave you a bit of a stinky side-eye before jerking his head to the left.
“it’s just this way,” he whispered. he padded to the sidewalk quietly, head whipping in each direction, body tense as if he expected a groaner to simply jump out unannounced at any moment.
what a scaredy cat, you thought jocularly.
“also, my name is glenn, not ‘mystery man.’” he added in a mutter.
you merely hummed in acknowledgment, more so for the man than yourself; you knew that by sundown he’d be gone with the wind, you’d forget all about this glenn fellow, and his name would be lost to your memory forever. no point in trying to stick it there in the first place.
silently, glenn led you through skinny, trashed back alleys and skirted past dilapidated structures, until at last he reached a large brick building. the door, which looked to be some sort of emergency exit, was a cool, gray metal, the hinges lined with rust and the surface slightly bleached from the harsh rays of the sun.
“it’s in here,” glenn murmured, grasping the handle and yanking it open. the hinges gave a deep, audible screech as he did so. “we cleared this out a few days ago.”
“we?” you parroted, trepidation flaring in your gut. it was fine when it was just glenn, but the thought of a group of people, one composed of unknown numbers, set off all kinds of alarms in your head.
groaners you could handle any day of the week; they were predictable, simple — just ambling corpses with no real thought process. humans… humans were different. complex, unpredictable, dangerous.
glenn noticed immediately when you hadn’t followed him through the threshold of the door; he glanced back at you, brows scrunched once more in confusion — it only took him a few moments to register the look upon your face before his eyes were widening and he was sputtering, “o-oh, it’s fine, my group isn’t – uh, they’re not dangerous. they won’t hurt you. and in any case, they aren’t w-with me today – I always make runs alone.”
“I’m s’posed to take your word for it?” you shot back, eyes narrowed dangerously. glenn gulped audibly and flicked his eyes between you and the interior of the building, lips working without producing any sound. he looked so helpless, like a lost puppy, that you couldn’t stop yourself from deflating.
“I believe you,” you uttered. “at least, I will for now. I mean, you don’t look all that dangerous. I reckon I could knock you on your ass in two seconds flat.”
a threat wrapped up within a petulant jab; not exactly your proudest moment, but part of you felt cornered, and it seemed to get the job done. glenn’s eyes flashed with surprise, and maybe a bit of fear, and his voice was less than stable when he murmured, “there’s no one else in there, I swear.”
the tense set of his shoulders, his wide eyes, and the shakiness in his voice seemed so genuine, that you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.
“are you actually scared of me, mystery man?” you jested, genuinely bemused by how sincerely glenn considered your concealed threat. was he actually taking you seriously? glenn’s throat flexed as he swallowed and nodded.
“well, I just watched you take down about a dozen geeks with just a pocket knife; so, yeah, kind of.”
you chuckled to yourself and gave glenn a once over. maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. he appeared genuine and harmless. kinda cute, too; in an innocent, boyish way, of course – boyish had never exactly been your style, but you could enjoy the aesthetic of it.
“well, glenn, why don’t you go ahead and show me around?” you purred, rolling his name across your tongue and not bothering to wait for a verbal confirmation. you pushed past glenn and into the dank, dusty building, eyes immediately sweeping across the bare shelves and stained walls. not a groaner, nor human, in sight.
glenn ambled further in and shut the door behind him with a soft whoosh and click. the room became near saturated in darkness, the only light being that of the sunlight filtering weakly through the gaps between the boards nailed to the windows. glenn wasn’t lying when he said it had been cleared out, but he didn’t mention anything about it being groaner-proof.
“is this, like, where your group stays or somethin’?” you inquired, your eyes narrowed and scrutinizing of every detail. there were no mats or makeshift beds that you could see, no visible provisions, and the space lacked the tell-tale signs of human inhabitance.
“oh, no, uh, this is just a rendezvous point – or, it will be. like I said before, I mostly do runs on my own.” glenn passed by you as he explained, coming to a kneel in the middle of the floor where the sunlight was most luminous. he slipped a large, beige bag from his shoulder and planted it on the ground, flipping the top and burying his hand inside.
“runs?” you wondered aloud, watching the man closely as he began to pull items from the bag one by one. medical gauzes, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, boxes of bandaids, a couple cans of vegetables occupied the space beside him bit by bit.
“yeah, runs. we made a camp a while back, at an old quarry just outside the city. food and water aren’t much of issue there, but other things” – glenn glanced up at you a bit sheepishly – “well, they run short sometimes.”
“so they send you out alone to get them?” you surmised, prompting an airy chuckle from the kneeling man.
“ah, no, I actually offered. I know the city like the back of my hand. getting in and out is no problem for me.”
you nodded your understanding, chewing the tender skin on the inside of your cheek – you were inclined to believe glenn, considering he had yet to prove himself untrustworthy, but there was something that was gnawing at you; something that you needed some clarification on.
“so, uh, if you came out here to get supplies, why’d’ya come over to me? and why did you bring me here?”
glenn paused his task for a brief moment before sighing softly. his lips thinned as he seemed to ponder how to answer.
“because I made a promise to myself. I told myself that if I ever ran across someone here in the city, I’d ask if they want to come back with me,” glenn answered quietly, though by the clench of his jaw, you could tell he wasn’t quite done with his explanation, so you bit back the other questions swirling on your tongue. “I guess I just hoped to myself that if the roles were ever reversed, someone would do the same for me.”
the residual tension that had been locking up your shoulders ever since entering the building drained away like a river to the ocean. you smiled softly and plopped down on the floor a few feet away from glenn. with a teasing warmth in your chest, you queried, “so you saw me and decided you wanted me to come home with you?”
glenn rolled his eyes, but the flush in his cheeks betrayed the effect your suggestive comment had on him.
“not like that, it’s just – it’s just that things aren’t as easy as they used to be. your best chance at survival is with a group.”
“I’ve done fine on my own,” you responded back flippantly, planting your palms behind you and leaning your weight back atop them. “I mean, I’ve been here since it started.”
glenn swiped his tongue over his bottom lip nervously, scanning through the contents on the floor before rapidly scooping them back into his bag.
“yeah, I, uh, I noticed that you’re capable. it’s just that – things won’t always be so easy, you know?”
irritation shot through your chest like a hot lance, your somewhat good mood ruined instantly.
“did I say it was easy?” you seethed, anger punctuating your every movement as you swung your hands back in front of you and leaned forward.
just as it had at the door, glenn’s mouth began to open and close rapidly as he tried desperately to recover. his wide eyes flicked down to your waistline, the area he knew held your pocket knife, and he scooted back a small bit while simultaneously dragging his bag in front of his body; an attempt to keep distance between the two of you.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that – that without a group, surviving will get harder and harder.”
you weren’t entirely sure if it was from lack of sleep, stress, or the cursed, buried memories that had been incessantly dragging themselves back up despite your multiple efforts to keep them down, but you had been highly irritable the last few days. every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, you heard his voice, taunting you with the sweet nothings he whispered long ago. you still felt his phantom touches that had long since grown cold.
you just wanted it to stop.
you wanted to find the strength to throw that little box out of the fucking window, and to burn that one shirt he left, the only things left to remind you that he wasn’t just some conjured fever dream. that’s why you’d been out in the street in the first place, drawing as many groaners as you could to yourself just so you could picture his face as you plunged your knife through their soft, rotten skulls.
and maybe, just maybe, find the strength to drop the knife and let it end.
but you just couldn’t. you couldn’t throw the box out, you couldn’t burn the shirt, and you most definitely couldn’t let yourself die; it went against everything he taught you.
with a sigh, you opened your eyes, which you had never even remembered closing, and regarded glenn once more. his eyes were still wide, clouded with something that was a mixture of nervous and worried, his hand trembled atop his bag, and his bottom lip wavered.
“you said you promised yourself that you’d invite whoever you found in the city to your camp, yeah?” you quizzed, the question one that glenn had not expected you to ask, if the brief confusion on his face was any indicator. after a moment’s hesitance, glenn nodded.
“yeah… our camp is pretty well established, and I know we’ve got room for others. does that, uh – does that mean you want to come back with me?”
you’d never second guessed your choices, nor the consequences of those choices, and you weren’t about to start now — so, with a cheeky smile and a wink, you purred,
“sure thing, glenn. I’ll come home with you.”
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a/n: so I recently checked my analytics and uh… 114 followers?? what??? like I’m — I’m speechless y’all. thank you so so much I can’t even begin to express how much it means to me <3 I promise I’ll be doing my best to dutifully deliver content to y’all as fast as possible <33333
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akutasoda · 2 months
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title - 'holding out both my hands / over fire, over flames / just to keep you safe'
╰➜they've been very busy lately but you hesitantly ask them to do a task, underestimating just how much they would actually do for you
dedicated to - fyodor dostoevsky
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, maybe ooc??, some angst maybe?, sonnet length - 771
a/n: request by an anon!! also what a wild new chapter-
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you never really knew what fyodor did. you could catch him staring at an unnecessary amount of screens quite regularly, sometimes you even sat beside him, but even then you couldn't actually piece together what exactly he was doing. sometimes he even disappeared for a while and would come back with little to no explanation - even if you asked questions, he'd brush you off and ask about your day to clearly change the subject.
eventually, you had accepted the fact that you might not ever know what your lover did for a living. it didn't exactly bother you or weigh heavy on your conscience, you could still happily go about your day without that knowledge but sometimes that curiosity really ate away. occasionally you'd try guessing as a joke because you knew that even if you guessed correctly, he'd tell you the opposite.
but the one thing you did know for sure was that recently fyodor had been extremely irritable, stressed even. he always seemed to have a sour expression on his face - one that probably looked no different to his usual expression but you knew otherwise. some days he even looked rather amused which made you quite confused, and in honesty, a tad bit scared as you could take a guess that a more sinister intention was behind his amusement.
fyodor no longer encouraged you to keep him company, he made himself even more scarce and when you did see him, it was for short periods of time and he always seemed rather distant. begrudgingly, you were content to let him do what he was doing as even if you tried, you knew you wouldn't be able to get through to him.
although his change in mood seemed to last longer than you both anticipated. eventually, something had abruptly come up for you. with everything you had going on in your life as well, it really threw you and you struggled to find a way to actually get round to it anytime soon. the only possible thing you could think of is asking someone else to run an errand for you so you had more time.
but currently the only person who you could see agreeing was fyodor. the same fyodor who currently was very distant and almost unapproachable. he had helped you out before but that was when he was as normal as he could be, so you really hesitated to ask him now. however, after a long while of contemplating your options, you tried to clear any hesitancy left in your mind and reluctantly made your way to your lover.
“fyodor?” you nervously called out, he was yet again focused on those ungodly amount of screens but he seemed to turn his attention to you almost immediately after hearing your voice
“is something the matter?” his response showed no indication of his mood being improved lately and know you were really hesitating to ask him
“i… could you…” he could tell immediately from the fact that you had started fidgeting and kept changing your words that you wanted to ask him something. what it was, he really didn't know but it wouldn't take an idiot to figure that you were so unsure about asking.
he waited patiently for you to try and form words but when it became clear that you weren't getting anywhere anytime soon, he questioned “if there's something you need me to do, i can do it”
this caught you slightly off guard but it gave you the slightest bit of ease to manage to tell him that you needed a slight bit of help and needed him to run a quick errand for you. he looked at you before standing up and making his way over.
fyodor took your hands into his as he smiled at you with the most amount of tenderness you had ever seen from him.
“such a small task wouldn't even pale in comparison to what i truly would do for you, consider it done already”
you still looked rather unsure about it and so he continued because he could take a guess for the reason behind your uncertainty.
“no matter what state i may be in, physically or mentally, if you asked me to do anything i would do it. there is nothing you can ask of me at any time that i wouldn't do for you”.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 year
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Chifuyu wearing a virgin-killer sweater
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Pairings: Chifuyu x Reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom!reader, sub!Chifuyu, cumming on clothing, Chifuyu teasing you a lil bit
Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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“I am not wearing that!” Chifuyu yelled in embarrassment, his face and the tips of his ears quickly turning beet red
“But it would suit you so well! You'd look really hot, Fuyu!” It was an innocent suggestion on your part, ok so not exactly innocent, but still! You couldn't escape this skimpy piece of clothing lately, it was all over the internet and you couldn't stop yourself from picturing your beloved in it...
“Not happening” He exclaimed, crossing his arms and leaning back onto the couch. It's not like you were gonna force him to wear it or anything, you just thought it'd look nice on him
“Fine” You threw your arms up in defeat. “But I still maintain the opinion that you'd look hot as fuck wearing that.” He rolled his eyes and grinned at your insistence, this wasn't the first time you suggested that he dress up in something revealing and it probably wouldn't be the last. He couldn't understand your fascination with seeing him in these weird outfits, but it was flattering in a way. The fact that your mind always came back to him whenever you looked at these things
“Wanna watch something together?” You suggested. Snuggling up against his side and putting your phone away. He nodded, browsing the different channels until you both agreed on something. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning your attention back to the tv
Chifuyu would be lying if he said that he didn't think about that stupid sweater for the next few days. Your words echoed in his mind whenever the thought came back around. Would he really look that good in it? He contemplated buying one, just for curiosity's sake. What would you do if he actually wore that around you? Based on your tone and the sincerity behind your eyes, he didn't think you would tease him. He knew you really did like the idea of him wearing this. Soooo... what's the harm in buying one just for the hell of it?
Chifuyu clicked on the link you had sent him the other day, browsing the different colours before deciding on a simple white. Now all that was left was to wait for it to arrive and try to keep it a surprise
That day came quickly, the package being delivered on a day when you were out doing something and wouldn't be back for another hour. Chifuyu had some time to try it on and see what the hype was all about. So he swiftly unboxed it and removed his shirt before slipping the sweater on. ...But could you really call it a sweater when there was so little fabric?! His entire back was exposed! Though he supposes that's the whole appeal, it's supposed to be revealing and tempting. Well, no turning back now, he was already wearing it and he was excited to see the look on your face when you realized what he was wearing
When you stepped into the building Chifuyu was sitting on the couch, he nonchalantly greeted you and you didn't yet notice his attire. It wasn't until he stood up to help you put something away that you noticed what was happening. Your eyes widened in surprise, mouth agape at the sight before you. “Uh, babe? Whatcha wearing?” You couldn't stop the growing smile on your face, too excited to see him in this getup
“What do you think it is?” He teased. Your eyes raked up and down his form, though the whole appeal of this was the view from the back, the view from the front was pretty nice too. He wore nothing else except the backless sweater, arms, shoulders, legs, and thighs on display for your eyes alone
“You know you can touch me, right? I did buy this just for you” His words snapped you out of your trance, suddenly realizing that you were breathing heavily and all but drooling over the sight before you. You stepped towards him and put your hands on his hips, pulling him in for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your neck instinctively, leaning his forehead against yours when your lips left his
Your hands quickly found his exposed back, trailing up his spine, causing his back to arch and pulling a pretty sound out of him. “Hey babe, turn around for me?” Chifuyu nodded, spinning around and pressing his ass up against you, leaning forward a bit then teasing you by grinding on your clothed erection
“Damn, you really do like how this looks on me.” He wiggled his hips playfully against you, not missing how you cursed under your breath and bit your lip to suppress the moans threatening to escape. “You gonna cum just from this? We haven't even done anything yet” Chifuyu chuckled, relishing in how easily you seem to be falling apart, panting like you're in a rut because of an item of clothing and a little pressure on your dick
“S-sorry it's just...fuck you're so hot right now” You panted. Every little thing about this situation adds to your increasing lust; the sight of Chifuyu's exposed back, the way his muscles flexed every time he arched for you. The way his hips met yours, grinding against your dick and causing it to rub against your pants, the tiny bit of friction coaxing precum out of you to dribble down your length. The way Chifuyu smirked when you bucked against him, amused by your neediness, he loved seeing you lose your composure because of him
“Hey, w-will you um...will you humor me for a minute?” Blushing, you rested your hands on his hips. Chifuyu tilted his head at your request
“Will you...pose for me? Just a lil bit?” Pose for you? An odd request, though he was intrigued by what you had in mind
“Sure, just don't make them super embarrassing” He agreed, waiting for further instructions
“They're not, it's just...the way I pictured you when I thought about you wearing this” You were a bit embarrassed to admit that out loud...though it was kind of worth it since he agreed to indulge your fantasy
“Get down on your knees for me?” The softness in your voice made Chifuyu melt, it was obvious by the slight hesitation in your tone that this was embarrassing for you to say out loud. “Now pull the bottom of the sweater down, like you're trying to cover yourself”
“Like this?” He tugged the hem down, covering his member and spreading his thighs a bit. You nodded, flushing once again at the sight of him in such a coy pose. As if he could read your mind, he raised the back of his other hand to his lips, pretending to act shy, the small mewl you made caused him to smirk again. Well aware that you were absolutely lovestruck
“You're too good at that...” You breathed. “Will you turn around for me now? Show me that pretty ass?”
Chifuyu complied, now on all fours, sticking his ass up in the air for your viewing pleasure. He really did have the cutest butt...so plump and squishy. In your more dominant moods you loved to smack it and watch it jiggle from the impact, or bury your face in between those pretty cheeks while you groped them, pulling moan after moan out of him
You couldn't hold back anymore. You needed to touch him so badly, needed to feel some sort of relief after being teased by his perfect body. You unzipped your pants and kneeled down behind Chifuyu, freeing your stiff cock and resting it in between his cheeks. “Ah–! Woah you're really excited...I'm not prepped yet tho-”
“Shh, shh, I know. I'm not putting it in yet, baby” You reassured, rubbing his back to soothe him. You then brought your hands down to his hips, yanking him closer to you and beginning to rub your cock against his hole. Chifuyu moaned as you used him to get off, the feeling of you rutting against his ass caused a surge of heat to spread throughout his body
“Fuck...Fuyu you look so good like this–” Your hips continued to thrust against him, smearing his ass with your precum. “My sweet little doll, dressed up...nngh—!! J-just for me...” His hands grasped at the floor as you sped up, sliding against his hole while he threw his hips back to meet your thrusts, his arms threatened to give out from the relentless pace you set
“F-fuck, Fuyu I'm gonna–!! ” You cried out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto his back, letting some of it drip onto his ass too. You both panted, taking a moment to get your bearings, Chifuyu turned his head to pout at you for making such a mess...you looked at him apologetically, scratching the back of your head and weakly laughing
He's definitely making you clean up after you're done, and he's not letting you leave until you've made him cum too 😡
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
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lostfirefly · 5 months
Text
Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours
One of my favorite moments of the 3d episode in OPLA, the moment with the knives. And I thought. Why not? English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.
Description: You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you.
Words: 1665
Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots
The title is taken from “I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys.
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“Oh, come on, Y/N! Admit it!”
“You're talking nonsense, Cabaji!” You were sitting in an awning on a keg sipping beer. “I don't care about him!”
“Really? I thought you like him.” Cabaji shrugged. “There was some harbor girl coming out of his quarters this morning, barely able to walk. I think you should stop this outrage already, Y/N. You must leave his cabin without being able to walk!” 
You choked. "Are you out of your mind? He's my captain, I'm not going to sleep with him!" You started to blush. 
“But why? You're an acrobat. I think he'll like it!” Cabaji laughed loudly.
You lost in your thoughts. You joined the Buggy Pirates a few months ago, and became an acrobat on his circus team. To be honest, running off with Captain Clown seemed like a good idea. Your family didn't understand your fascination with the circus and tried to force you to learn a boring profession. You were drawn to the magic of the circus all your life. You liked the smell of candy popcorn. You loved hearing the laughter and applause of the audience. What you didn't like was that after a few months you realized you had feelings for the captain. No, no! A grown man who paints himself as a clown. But the more often you saw him, the more you realized that the sight of him gave you a light electric shock. You tried to avoid making eye contact with him or standing next to him. Every time your captain passed by, touched you, you blushed, and it seemed to you that the whole team already knew about your feelings.
“Okay. Let's take another round!” You sipped your beer, spun off the keg, and picked up your knives. “I'll beat you this time.” 
“You haven't been able to beat me since day one on the ship, Y/N!” Cabaji laughed.
“Go to hell! I can do it!” You took the knife firmly in your hand and hurled it at the board.
“Ha! You missed! Loser!” Cabaji sipped his beer, walked over to you, patted you on the shoulder, and threw the knife. “See! Right on target! Who is the winner? Cabaji is the winner!” He pointed at himself with his index fingers.
“You must have thrown a knife at someone the first thing you did as soon as you were born, otherwise I don't understand where such marksmanship comes from!” You waved your hands and shrieked loudly. “Oh, I know! I need a target! We had cabbage for Richie here. Go get it!”
Cabaji shrugged his shoulders and quickly ran off to get the cabbage and went back inside. “Now what am I supposed to do with these sprouts!” He asked in surprise.
“Fix it on a board. I'll imagine it's our Captain Buggy's head, and I'll throw knives at him!” You twirled the knife in your hands with a proud look. 
“I told you like him!” Cabaji succeeded and nailed a cabbage sprout to the board.
“He's my…I don’t li..” You swung the knife. “....ke him! Yes! I hit it!”
“The sprouts take up half the board, of course you hit it!” He gave you another knife.
“Oh, Y/N, you like him!” You started imitating Cabaji's voice. “I don't love him! Captain pisses me off! He an...” You took aim and threw another knife. “...noys me!” Another knife. “Walks around his ship like he's king of the world. The fucking king who is always whining!” 
“Uh... Y/N!” Cabaji cleared his throat. 
“Oh, my beer's too cold. Y/N, get me a new bottle from the fridge!” You threw another knife with anger. “Get it yourself! You can detach your fucking arm and send it to the fridge!” 
“Y/N!” Cabaji tried to get your attention.
“Ooh, my omelet is too cold. Y/N, heat it up!” You picked up another knife from the ground and threw it at the cabbage. “I wasn't hired to be your fucking cook, asshole!”
“Y/N!!!!” Cabaji shouted. “Hush!”
“What?” You snapped back. “What's he going to do to me? He's just a fucking cabbage on the board. What do you think? I bet if he was standing behind me right now, he'd start whining about something.” You noticed Cabaji's gaze looking somewhere behind your shoulder. “He's standing behind me now, isn't he?” 
He slowly nodded.
You blushed and turned around. “Good evening, Captain!” You slowly looked up. Seeing first his boots, then his clothes, then his red lips, red nose, green eyes, and blue hair. “And we are... We…”
Buggy crossed his arms and stared at you intently. “Having fun, huh?” He shifted his gaze to Cabaji. 
“Yeah, relaxing after the show. Throwing knives and talking.” You said quietly. 
"I noticed." He said rather dryly and took off his coat.
The first thing you saw were pumped up arms, and you got a little out of breath.
“May I join you?” Buggy walked over to Cabaji who was pulling knives out of a cabbage and took one. 
“Sure!” You started to blush and looked away from him.
“Do we have any bets?” Buggy asked, rubbing the hilt with his hand. 
“No. Just for fun. Not playing for anything.” You tried to sound calm.
“No interest in playing for anything. I suggest a case of beer.” Buggy threw the knife, and it hit right in the middle of the sprout. “Looks like one point behind me, huh? Cheesecake, your turn!” He smiled slightly and held the knife out to you. 
You gently took the edge of the handle, trying not to touch Buggy's hand, and stood in front of the target. You began to swing.
“No, no. My cheesecake, you're holding the knife wrong.” Buggy came up behind you, putting one hand on your wrist. “Take it a little to the right.” He gently moved your hand in the right direction. Your heart began to pound faster. 
Buggy brought his face close to your ear and said quietly, “Now throw it!”
You gulped and threw the knife at the cabbage.
“See! Almost hit it!” Buggy adjusted his white glove, sipped from your bottle, and turned back to you. “Let's do it again!” He handed you the knife and stood behind you again. “Take your hand back.” Buggy put his hand on your wrist and lightly touched your waist with the fingers of the other. “And throw!”
You froze for a second, feeling the warmth of his hand on your waist.
“Cheesecake? Throw it!” He ran his hand lightly over your side.
“Oh yeah, I'm throwing it!” You threw the knife at the target but missed s little. 
“That's better already! Cabaji, your turn!” Buggy sat down on the keg and sipped your beer again. 
Cabaji shrugged, picked up a knife from the ground, threw it and hit the target. 
“Good for you! Now it's my turn! Watch how the real masters throw knives!” Buggy mewled, picked up a knife from the cabbage, stood close to you, and threw it towards the board. 
You tried your best to hide your admiration and refused to admit that this whole situation was turning you on a bit.
“Cheesecake! Your turn!” Buggy nodded his head at you. Cabaji wanted to walk over to you to help steady your hand, but the captain tsked at him. Buggy walked over to you and took your hand again, with his other hand he had already hugged you tighter and pulled you closer to his chest. Goosebumps ran through your body. You felt like you could feel every beat of his heart through your vertebrae.
“Aim more precisely.” Buggy looked at you over your shoulder. You cast a glance with the edge of your eye and immediately averted your eyes. He literally drilled you with his gaze, and began stroking his hand down your back. 
“Jesus!” It went through your head.
You took a deep breath, covered your eyes and threw the knife.
“Ha! You got it!” Buggy clapped his hands together happily.  "Hey, is someone keeping score?" He asked, looking back at Cabaji.
“No, captain.” Cabaji shrugged.
“Okay, we’re gentlemen! Let's let the cheesecake win, right?” Buggy picked up the knife from the ground, stood behind you, and pressed closer. “Go ahead yourself, Y/N.” He placed both hands on your waist and pulled you closer.
You didn’t quite understand how to throw a knife in such a position when all you could think about was how close he was standing.
Buggy started stroking your waist, and you didn’t notice how you twitched slightly.
“What's happened?” Buggy asked as he looked at you, placing one hand on your hip.
“Nothing. I'm afraid I'll lose your beer. Captain!” You giggled idiotically, trying to hide your increasing breathing in every possible way. You exhaled, tried to straighten your shoulders and snuggled closer. You pulled your hand back and glanced at Buggy, who didn’t seem to notice that he had already lowered his second hand to your thigh.
You narrowed your eyes and dropped the knife.
"You won, little cheesecake!" Buggy smiled widely and moved his hands to your waist.
“But we didn’t even keep score!” You carefully placed your palms on his.
"I'm the captain here. I said you won, that means you won!" Buggy rested his chin on the top of your head. "Okay. Time to go back to the ship. Let's go, cheesecake, I'll treat you to beer!" He abruptly removed his hands, grabbed his coat, winked at you and walked out.
“I’m telling you for sure, soon you will have difficulty leaving his cabin!” Cabaji collected the knives from the ground and from the cabbage, and grinned.
“I wish...” You whispered.
“What?” He asked again.
“Nothing. Let's go. He's probably waiting for us near the tent.”
In the morning, you really left Buggy's cabin. And judging by the faces of the crew, everyone heard you shout the captain's name loudly several times during the night.
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always-andromeda · 2 years
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aaaAAA valentines prompts are here!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) weeee please spare some white chocolate truffle for love of my life dwayne? thank you dearest, compliments to the chef (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥
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– 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦
𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aHH okay this was super cute!! I hope you enjoy this one, anon!! also lmao, yes, the title is a song. it's from Yellow House and it always reminds me of Dwayne. <3
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Dwayne is aged up to be high school senior, pure fluff, bits of Dwayne being a little pessimistic guy, nothing else I can think of!
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First period hadn't even started yet and already you could tell that Dwayne was itching for the final bell. He sighed, folding his hands together and resting his chin on top of them. You watched him peer out from under his curtain of dark hair at a few students around you both exchanging cards, candies, and little stuffed toys. 
"Doing okay there, Dwayne?" you asked as you unloaded your textbook and your binder.
He threw you a sideways glance and replied blankly, "I'm a ray of sunshine." Whatever modicum of patience he usually had in school was drained entirely by Valentine's Day.
"Oh, yeah. You're looking especially chipper today."
This time, Dwayne turned to look at you fully with his brow furrowed.
"It's a joke."
"Have you seen what's been going on today?"
"Uh, yeah, it's a holiday," you shrugged.
"It's bullshit. It's an excuse for fucking candy and card companies to make a killing," he sneered. "Because if you don't buy your boyfriend or girlfriend a stupid piece of paper that says 'I love you' then you're obviously a bad person, right?"
You scoffed, "Not exactly."
That earned another scowl from Dwayne.
"Listen, I get what you mean. It can be superficial and overbearing sometimes, I guess." You struggled to conjure the right words to explain yourself in a way that Dwayne would understand, "But...it's nice sometimes, ya know? It's nice to have someone show that they thought about you."
"Please," Dwayne dismissed. "It's not about thought or care. It's all...bullshit social transactions that no one is gonna give a shit about after we graduate anyways. It's just...dumb."
Placing a hand over the top of your binder defensively, the more Dwayne spoke, the more you found a lump forming in your throat. It made it even harder to speak as you choked out, "Dumb?"
"Yeah. And...gross," he huffed with an air of stubbornness. He'd never been particularly fond of the holiday; the unnecessary drama of couples asking each other to be their Valentine and the gossip that came from rejections for days afterwards. But...you thought...
With a new wave of frustration, you flipped open the cover of your binder and pulled a card out from the inside flap. You slid it across the top of the table in Dwayne's direction. "Then there's a stupid card for you, Dwayne. Happy Valentine's Day," you added bitterly.
Dwayne froze. Already, the cover threw him off. There was the haunting phrase of the day written out in your handwriting and above it, a drawing of a bouquet of flowers in glitter gel pens. Slowly, he opened the card, finding more of your handwriting hiding inside.
I know this is super cliche. And you're probably going to roll your eyes at me when you read this. Promise me you won't hate me too much. Or at least promise me you'll spare me the embarrassment and forget this immediately after you read it. I just had to try at least once. But I really like you. Will you be my Valentine?
With your head hidden in your folded arms, you could only guess what you and Dwayne looked like to the rest of your classmates. Already, you were anticipating how that scene would get spun. Everyone talked about how you and Dwayne were bound to end up together, seeing as you're one of the only people that would willingly hang around with the reclusive guy. And one of the only people that he would actually let hang around him.
Your first thought after that was to think about Dwayne. He didn't like being the center of attention. Being talked about like this would be the most aggravating thing in the world. And god, it frustrated you that even when he was being a jerk, you still worried about him.
Then you felt a poke on your shoulder. You raised your head and found Dwayne, still looking at the card and tracing the flowers on the cover. But this time his hand was on the table, open with his palm facing up. Inviting you to grab it. Which you do, quickly.
"I'm sorry for what I said," he muttered.
You sniffed softly. "That's okay."
"I like the card."
"Thanks."
“And I'll be–" Dwayne paused. "I'll be your Valentine."
The exhilaration inside you flared so intensely that you couldn't help but squeeze his hand in return. And Dwayne also couldn't help the tiny smile that formed on his lips when he felt the warmth of your sweaty hand enveloping his. Maybe both of you could be right about Valentine's Day. It was gross. But...nice. Very nice.
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