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#makes me forget how genuinely awful it is
tender-rosiey · 2 days
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maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
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you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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tafrus · 5 months
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i need a bf immediately (no i absolutely do not, it would destroy me)
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uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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I was told by someone that I couldn’t call myself a transsexual because I had to go off T for health reasons and I haven’t had any gender affirming surgeries yet since I’m poor and disabled. Is this true? What are like, the requirements to be a transsexual? /gen
The requirements to be transsexual: to identify as transsexual
This might seem too... straightforward, but genuinely, medical transition is so complex and individual that it's worthless to make it so ridged. There are so many reasons you have to stop some aspect(s) of transition, even if you didn't want to! That doesn't mean you never transitioned or that it's "lesser" now that you stopped.
Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I, for one, couldn't care less if you call yourself a transsexual. To my mind, it is as political as it is an identity. Being a transsexual isn't just about your identity but also your place in this world. "Transsexual menace" isn't just a cutesy little slogan but a political battle cry. It can be an attitude about changing sex, about the lucid and plastic nature of people, and so much more.
The word transsexual was made and popularized, honestly, with the idea that we are separate from others. I think we can take this back and make it ours. We can start by actually making it our own, not the cis world's own.
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camellcat · 7 months
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WTFFF I thought thirteen would be my new girl crush love of my life heart eyes wife you-came-after-twelve-you-must-be-better-than-they're-all-saying bbygirl and then I had to sit down and watch as she told a man who (if he were not a murderer, of course) literally every regeneration before her would've LOVED and FULLY SUPPORTED that "the systems aren't the problem. how people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. people like you" </33333 !?!?
#WHERE IS THAT POST THAT SAID NINE WOULD KILL THIRTEEN FOR BEING A CLASS TRAITOR#WHY WOULD YOU SAY “ERODE PEOPLE'S TRUST IN AUTOMATION” ALL WORRIED AND CONCERNED LIKE THAT???#WHEN DID YOU START LIKING AUTOMATION OVER PEOPLE THINKING AND DOING THINGS FOR THEMSELVES???#AND WHY ARE YOU TRAVELING WITH A COPPER??? WE HATE COPPERS??????#did we FORGET into the dalek?? how about how he treated danny?? god there's so much more I can't even remember off the top of my head#(I understand soldiers are different from cops but c'mon don't even PRETEND twelve would've been any nicer if blue or danny were just COPS)#also a bit off topic bUT MAY I JUST TALK ABOUT ARACHNIDS IN THE UK FOR HALF A GODAMNED SECOND—#I know the companions are usually the ones to do the doctor's dirty work here but like#I just can't see the other doctors NOT having the business man lure the spider for being so fuckin annoying about it#like I was genuinely surprised when they had him do that whole song and dance about not doing it and then he actually just. didn't do it#the doctor LOVES fucking with evil rich business men this is PERFECT. plus why not get back at him for being awful to their companions?#absolutely gobsmacked thirteen let him act like that. I am wrong in thinking that the others would've shut his shit down a LOT quicker??#anyways. I love jodie whittaker and it's just so upsetting to have her doctor do something so wildly off#THIRTEEN PLEASE I HAD SUCH FAITH IN YOUUU I WAS IGNORING THE HATERS AND FOR WHAT#I can SEE the other doctors in her still I can FEEL them they're there she's doing an AMAZING job but. oh my god. what did they make her do#I can't even say she feels ooc as a whole because jodie is bloody brilliant. it's just these... moments. that don't make ANY sense to me...#especially coming off of twelve?? I get the radical personality switch but that belief is a core part of the doctor. or at least I THOUGHT#thirteenth doctor#doctor who#I still love all of you who love her and reading ur posts/fics but I. will not be making any myself. I do not think.
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dreamwinged · 3 months
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to be so honest im starting to think i really need to see a professional for my social anxiety
#.mei’s chatter ˚༘⋆ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖#it is so bad in ways i can’t even articulate but today i felt sick over having to send one text message and procrastinated the entire day#i’ve gotten so bad recently#and that’s not even a fraction of the texts i need to reply to.. i feel like im crumbling under the weight of how awkward i am#and i hate it because im sure everyone thinks i’m rude and i know it comes off as so weird when i reply to a text fucking SIX WEEKS late#but i genuinely feel so awful and guilty over it i just cannot make myself do it. i’m so scared ill say the wrong thing or fuck up#or i just forget because i have memory issues but it’s awful all the same and i feel so terrible#and i assume everyone hates me until i see them again because i never texted back and it makes me feel like an awful person#but i have good intentions and i really just want to give everyone the kindness they deserve but i get so scared to talk to ppl it’s crazy#it’s so awful. i really need it fixed it feels like it’s rotting my soul and ruining my relationships#people will be so nice to me and then i just don’t get back to them… it’s horribly horribly rude and i know it i just get terrified#or i forget most the time i really do just forget but it feels bad all the same#i think it stems from like.. i don’t want to say the wrong thing so i need to think hard about what to say but then i forget or get so ->#caught up in trying to say the perfect thing that i get overwhelmed and procrastinate then forget entirely#i’m an awful person i truly cannot stand myself#i guess the only way forward is to just be better in the future but fuck i feel so guilty
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freakylilnutjob · 2 years
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I hope there will be a day when someone says something nice to/about me and I can actually fully believe them.
If y’all decide to have kids, please don’t emotionally neglect and abuse them.
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flowachild · 19 days
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I’ve never had problems with my guy best friend except ONE time
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shidoukanae · 4 months
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Chapter 75 and 76 have been so funny for male lead characters suddenly spouting red flag lines.
Paris's is expected because the narrative has always been honest about how he's got a screw loose but seeing the 2nd lead syndrome guy pining hopelessly after Lyla seemingly imply he was trying to make her unhappy with his presence is ???? huh????
like im aware my very loose translations are probably scuffed as fuck and there's room for further interpretation but man is this manga a ride lmao. It never feels like a chapter is wasted and that there's always something more to be learned about this world, its story, and its characters. And it means every chapter is never a letdown because there's always SOMETHING happening and it makes me !!! to see
#the mighty extra#Paris Valerian#Phillip whose last name im forgetting LMAO#ngl after translating Paris's line about taking a princess as a trophy i was all :Dc about it#not only does that line tell me that Paris is dangerously obsessive of Helene like his OG self was#but also considering how much the narrative condemns Paris's entitlement and lifts up Helene as someone who can handle his arrogance#I sense this line of thinking is utterly going to fuck him up once he realizes that pursuing her through war will only see her resenting hi#i love that Paris/Helene seems to be a slowburn and im so waiting for the moment Paris gets irrevocably lovesick over her#i want him to eat his words from back when he called Fian's romantic rambles “corny” you have no idea#the dragon imprinting phenomena in this universe is really fascinating and i love how the dragon physiology works in this verse#from the way imprinting is treated as something genuinely fucked up for dragons to experience#to the way dragons use “smell” in order to identify people's souls which plays into their Friendship Pact magic abilities#it's a much different take on dragons than im used to and honestly i kind of dig it#also love how this story takes a bunch of tropes i typically dont like and has combined them together in a way i really like!#Imprinting as a trope? Surprisingly well done and actually interesting to learn more about since it's specfically a psychological thing#Me genuinely wishing the reverse harem story mentioned was a real story? insane coming from someone who HATES that genre#Paris displaying awful red flag behaviors? good thing his love interest doesn't put up with his BS and will put him in his place#OG FL is being mean? oh guess what she's an intricate self-saboteur who is neither good nor bad and there's something up with her (i think)#and it's just#man#this whole manga is writing goals goddamn#and im trying to learn how to write a plot based on its story structure and it's making me realize i don't know shit about writing lol#or at least planning out my plots which is probs why im procrastinating on my own works ahhhhHHHH
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ham1lton · 3 months
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don’t trust the bitch in apt 33!
— part one of four.
pairings: max verstappen x reader.
summary: your new apartment in monaco is amazing. it’s close to your friends, family and work, it has incredible amenities and your neighbours for the most part seem kind. the only issue is your upstairs neighbour, who games all night and sleeps all day, and is insufferably loud while doing it.
author’s note: also this is a little longer than my usual smaus. the usernames might also be slightly different as this is an au!!also i am updating my taglist!
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liked by bestie1, bestie2 and 245 others.
yourusername: moving day done!! shout out to my sexy movers <3
tagged: apartmentrush.
view all 78 comments
bestie1: the pizza was soooo good 😋
-> bestie2: so yum 😋
-> bestie1: so good… we should come around again this week and have it again??
-> bestie2: yes….. we should….
-> yourusername: 🙄 fine. come round on saturday!
workbestie: so excited to see you at work on monday!!
-> yourusername: me too!!! i’ll bring the coffee <3
apartmentrush: welcome to our community!
-> yourusername: glad to be here :)
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
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liked by landonorris, max.fan1 and 1,728,982 others.
gamermax: just completed another successful 24 hour stream! thank you all for helping me raise money for the sassy animal shelter! also thank you @ landonorris for stocking my fridge up!
view all 234,793 comments
user1: ur so fine.
-> user4: was i the only one staring at his hands the entire stream????
-> user9: i mean. we barely see his face, that’s probably why.
georgerussell63: lando is trying to kill you! that’s why he’s an awful community president. all that redbull will have your heart exploding.
-> landonorris: not this shit again 🙄
-> georgerussell63: profanity on a public platform? another TICK against your name.
user7: is it truly a max post without a cat meme?
*liked by gamermax.*
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
subject: MEETING REMINDER.
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thanks,
lando norris.
rush apartment president.
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you head upstairs to knock on this max’s door, dressed in your night clothes. your sleep mask across your forehead, your bonnet on and your skin still glistening from your skin routine. you knock on the door loudly. you hear swearing as someone falls over and then stands to open the door. the door opens to show a twenty something guy with a pair of streaming headphones on his head. he gives you an obvious look up and down before tilting his head in confusion.
“uh, can i help you?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“you can start by keeping it down,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “some of us need sleep.”
his eyes widen slightly, and he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i was being that loud.”
“well, you are,” you retort. “it’s three in the morning, and i have to work tomorrow. this is ridiculous.”
he runs a hand through his messy hair, looking genuinely apologetic. “i didn’t know anyone was in the apartment below. no one’s been there for a while. i’m max, by the way.”
“yn,” you reply shortly, not in the mood for pleasantries. “just please, keep it down.”
“i will, i promise,” max says earnestly. “i’ve got these noise-canceling headphones, and sometimes i forget how loud i’m being. i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
you study him for a moment, still irritated but starting to believe his sincerity. “okay. goodnight, max.”
“goodnight, yn,” he replies, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “and good luck at work tomorrow.”
you turn to leave, feeling a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected intrigue. as you head back downstairs, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually keep his promise.
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•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
MEETING TRANSCRIPT.
[sound of murmuring voices and rustling papers as the meeting starts]
NORRIS: alright, everyone, let's get started. we’re here to address some noise complaints. yn, you had a specific issue?
LN: (angrily) yes, my upstairs neighbor, max, keeps making noise late at night. i've talked to him, but it hasn’t stopped.
RUSSELL: (salty) typical. this is why i should have been president. i would’ve sorted this out immediately.
NORRIS: (sighs) george, not now. let’s focus on the issue at hand. alex, any thoughts?
ALBON: (trying to smooth things over) well, it’s important for everyone to be considerate of their neighbors. but, you know, people have different schedules. maybe max can use quieter equipment?
HAMILTON: (working on his laptop, half-heartedly) yeah, yeah. quieter equipment. great idea. can we move on? i’ve got a deadline.
LECLERC: (confused) what’s going on again? can we just finish this? i want to go home and see my uh… friends.
TSUNODA: (munching on snacks) i brought these for everyone! maybe we can bribe max with food to be quieter?
LN: (exasperated) i don’t think snacks will solve the problem. i just want to sleep in peace.
NORRIS: (rubbing his temples) max isn’t here because he owns his apartment, and these meetings are mandatory for renters or new buyers. so, we’re kind of stuck.
RUSSELL: (grumbling) see? this is why lando’s presidency is a joke.
NORRIS: (angry) oh give it a rest, george!
ALBON: (egging them on) oh, come on, george. let’s not make this about the election again. unless you want us to go over our allocated time.
HAMILTON: (still working) can we wrap this up? i’m really busy here.
BUTTON: (chuckling) you’re always busy lewis.
RUSSELL: jenson why are you even here. these meetings aren’t mandatory for you.
BUTTON: (smirking) maybe i like the company.
LECLERC: (standing up) i’m leaving. this is pointless.
TSUNODA: (offering more snacks) anyone want some chips before we go? charles, you’ll need the energy when you go visit your ‘friends’ later.
HAMILTON: and let them know to keep it down, some of can’t work through all that noise.
LECLERC: (blushing) uh, yeah, sure... i’ll let them know.
NORRIS: (defeated) fine. meeting adjourned. we’ll try to talk to max again, but for now, let’s just… go back to our lives.
[sound of chairs scraping and people leaving, with no resolution in sight]
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new taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens.
— want to be tagged for any future works? join my new taglist!
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 2 months
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When They Give You the Silent Treatment as a Joke
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Bang Chan
Decides to give you the silent treatment as a joke, thinking it’ll be funny, since he saw it while scrolling through Instagram
Initially avoids making eye contact and gives only curt nods, completely engrossing himself in his work.
Notices you trying to get his attention but continues the act.
Feels a bit guilty but thinks you’ll laugh it off later.
Realizes the joke has gone too far when you start to tear up.
But he's too busy to notice you've actually started crying until Felix points it out.
Immediately drops the act and rushes to comfort you.
Apologizes profusely, explaining it was just a joke.
Holds you close and reassures you that he never meant to hurt you.
Promises to be more considerate in the future.
Spends extra time with you, making sure you’re okay. Completley forgetting about the work he was doing.
"Aw, baby I could never hate you. It was just a joke I saw it while looking for edits. I promise...you want to watch edits of me? ...But I'm right here?"
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Lee Know
Thinks the silent treatment will be a harmless joke. He got the idea from Jisung.
Acts - for lack of better phrase - like an utter bitch.
Is so in character he doesn't notice the way you've started fidgeting anxiously.
Or the way your bottom lip has started to tremble.
Realizes the joke has gone too far when hears you begin to cry.
Breaks character immediately, apologizing - which is saying something since its Minho - and explaining it was a joke.
Pins the blame on Jisung.
Spends the day doing small acts of kindness to make it up to you.
Constantly checks on you to ensure you’re feeling better, since it seems you've distanced yourself.
Vows to never participate in such pranks again.
Gives you a long hug, whispering apologies - which is how you know he is regretful since he's apologized more than once.
"It was Jisung's ideas. I'm sorry. I promise I won't ever listen to any of Jisung's stupid ideas ever again jagiya..."
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Changbin
Agrees to the prank since Felix had seen it on tiktok and thought it would be funny for both of them to do it since Felix was the second closest member to you besides your bf.
Keeps his distance and avoids talking to you, often just continuing conversations as if he hadn't heard you.
Feels a bit guilty but sticks to the prank.
Starts to worry when he sees you becoming increasingly upset.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.
Immediately scoops you up into his arms and just lets you cry waiting for you to calm down
Felix is apologizing to you while he does this.
Takes the lead in making sure you know he’s genuinely sorry by clinging to you the rest of the day.
Talks 10x more than usual, ensuring you know he never meant to hurt you.
Brings you small gifts and treats to cheer you up.
Promises to communicate better in the future.
"I'm sorry baby...I was being dumb I promise I won't do that ever again."
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Hyunjin
Thinks you'll act dramtically so he agrees.
Avoids interacting with you, keeping a straight face.
Is a bit confused when you just stalk off.
Starts to feel uneasy when you've been gone a while.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when he sees you crying alone.
He goes to sit next to you and apologize.
But now you're giving him the silent treatment.
Insists on talking it out with you.
Goes out of his way to do thoughtful things for you until you finally talk to him.
Frequently checks in on you to make sure you’re feeling better.
Promises to be more considerate in the future.
"Ya jagiiiiiiiiiiyyaaaaaaaa...talk to meeeeeeee...please? It was a joke. Jagiiiiiiiiiiiii!"
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Han
A little skeptical at first since he thinks you'll be anxious and overthink since thats how he would react.
But after the guys show him a bunch of different and amusing reactions he concedes.
Finds it amusing at first
Feels a twinge of guilt when you start looking upset.
He gets extremely anxious seeing tap your knee and fidget.
Oh boy he see's your tears welling up.
Breaks down first, apologizing and explaining it was a joke before you even have a chance to start fully crying.
Tries to make you laugh with jokes and silly antics to cheer you up.
Clings to you like a spider monkey. He needs to be resting against you in some way shape or form.
Brings you little gifts and snacks as a way of saying sorry and to make himself feel a little better.
Oh the amount of kisses he is giving you just to make sure you know he is sorry and he loves you.
"Baby stop squirming. There is no such thing as too many kisses. Let me kiss youuuu!!!"
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Felix
Hesitantly agrees to the prank, worried it might go too far.
Plays along, giving you the silent treatment but feeling guilty the entire time.
Starts to worry as you look more hurt and confused.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.
He doesn't listen to the guys when they say to let it go on a bit longer.
Apologizes profusely.
Just lets you rest in his arms until you fall asleep and stays in the same position until you wake up from your sad boi hour nap.
Bakes your favorite treats as an apology.
For the rest of the day he makes sure he's always talking to you about something and explains it was a joke ever five minutes.
Acknowledges he thought it was a bad idea to begin with.
"I didn't want to. I hate seeing you sad, I'm sorry angel. If you forgive me than at least finish your brownie."
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Seungmin
Agrees to the prank since he thinks you'll be able to handle it. And its not like he is the most talkative person; maybe you won't even notice.
Oh but you do notice. And this is making your already bad day even worse.
Keeps a straight face, giving you the cold shoulder.
Wonders slightly why you have haven't jokingly scolded or insulted him yet
Realized its because you're in the kitchen crying.
Breaks character, and gives you a hug.
Its not until you push him away does he apologize.
You're still a little upset, so he makes it up to you by taking you out on a date.
Tries to make it up to you with small acts of kindness throughout your date as well.
Only asks once or twice if you're still mad at him.
Realizes you're not when you lovingly insult him about something during your dinner.
Secretly promises to be more considerate in the future, because he doesn't want to verbalize that to you.
I probably shouldn't do this again...even if Y/N does look cute when they cry...
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Jeongin
All of the members try to convince him not to do this prank.
Doesn't listen at all.
Avoids talking to you, keeping a straight face, even when you helplessly pull at his shirt sleeves.
Starts feeling guilty as you look more hurt, but it adamant about proving to his hyungs that he wasn't in the wrong for pulling this prank.
Realizes he was oh so wrong when he see's you clinging to Chan crying.
Chan is the one who makes I.N. apologize.
He apologizes immediately, and gets an earful from Minho who has a soft spot for you.
But now he feels so bad and doesn't feel like talking out of guilt and shame from being scolded.
So now the rest of the guys are cheering up both their babies.
Just pouts sadly while cuddling you.
Once you guys are back to normal you make him promise to listen to his hyungs.
"I promise I'll listen to them next time...but...wasn't it kinda nice for them to baby both of us?"
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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha
@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun
@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael
@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld
@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9
@minsungsthirdwheel
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bambiimutt · 11 months
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He makes you cry during an Argument.
Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..
ೃ࿔*:・
Headcannons and short stories under the cut!
ೃ࿔*:・
TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!
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Jeffrey Hodex:
- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.
-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.
-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.
-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”
-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.
-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.
-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.
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Tobias Rogers
- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.
- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?
-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.
-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.
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-Ben Lawman/drowned
- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.
-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.
- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.
-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.
- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.
ೃ࿔*:・
“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.
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-Masky/ Tim Wright
- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.
- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.
-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.
- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.
ೃ࿔*:・
“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.
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Hoodie/ Brian Thomas
-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.
-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.
-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.
-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.
-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.
-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.
ೃ࿔*:・
“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.
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bibluebutterfly · 8 months
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Hoo boy. Now I've made it known multiple times on my blog that I LOATHE the whoobiefication of Vox, but lets get into why/how Vox is NOT a good person nor a baby that needs protecting and why he's all the better for it. Buckle up ladies and gentlemen, this will be long.
Now, why isn't Vox a good person? Easy. Because he (along with the other Vees) is supposed to be the bad guy of the story. Shocking, I know. Vox was NEVER intended to be a good person, and some of y'all just need to accept that.
Now for the long part: HOW is he not a good person?
Well, first of all, his literal introduction is an ad selling drones HE DESIGNED specifically for stalking,"peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish"
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Right off the bat, this tells us he doesn't care about people unless he can profit off them.
Which is also backed up by the point that he ADVERTISES Val and Vels "love potions" which are basically just roofies.
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Again. This man ONLY cares about profit first and foremost, screw the people who can get hurt/SA'd by his products.
Next, he has a power of hypnosis which he is NOT hesitant to use. He can take away someones free will at a glance and uses that to his full advantage.
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He's also very willing to give Val his lowest earners to shoot. Notice that he does so with no hesitance and no regret.
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Also, (and most significantly) he's a huge, HUGE enabler. This guy has cameras EVERYWHERE, ESPECIALLY when Valentino is involved. He's got cameras in Val's room, Angels old room, at Vals corner of the club (which moves when Val does), there's NO WAY he DOESN'T know that Val is a r@pist.
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And DESPITE that, he still sleeps with the man, is very likely in love with him, and oh yeah, FUNDS HIS WHOLE DEAL. The cameras Val uses are Voxtech cameras.
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Val may be the one who does the dirty work but Vox willingly and knowingly makes a profit off of that. He doesn’t just know and do nothing, he actively HELPS Val out and obviously has no second thoughts nor regrets about it.
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This is not a look of disgust or discontent, this is fondness. Genuine fondness. For Valentino. As a PERSON. Let that sink in.
There’s also the implications that Vox is jealous of the attention Angel gets from Val. Angel gets abused constantly by Val, Vox KNOWS, and still hates Angel because of the sheer fact that he takes up so much of Vals attention.
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Not to mention the HEAVY implications that he gets off on watching people suffer.
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“Well Vox can still do better than Val!!”
While I’m at it, I guess I should bring up the fact that BOTH Vox and Val are MASSIVE red flags.
With Val, aside from the obvious, he’s also a huge attention whore for Vox and isn’t afraid to break Vox’s property if Vox doesn’t pay attention to him. Yeah Vox gets frustrated with him, who wouldn’t be when their lover is throwing temper tantrums every other day?
With Vox, again, aside from the obvious, isn’t afraid to handle Val roughly when he’s mad, and literally screams about how watching his arch nemesis/obsession get the crap beat out of him is better than sex. Right in front of Val by the way. In regular circumstances, 9.98/10 that’s gonna get your ass dumped in a second.
Not to mention the mutual condescension ation towards each other.
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And as much as fans (including myself admittedly) like to shit on Val for being a man child, Vox is literally no better.
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Plus the explosive tempers.
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Seriously. Vox LITERALLY cannot do better than Val. Vox is the only one who can put up with Vals BS and vice versa.
OH YEAH and lets not forget one last thing: VOX ALSO ABUSES HIS OWN EMPLOYEES.
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This dude is scared of him, and it’s NOT because he’s worried about getting fired.
So yes. Vox is not nor HAS EVER been a good person.
And for me personally, I love that. I love that he’s entertaining yet awful. I love his dynamic with Alastor, and I love his relationship with Val even more.
If you’re wondering why I personally love Staticmoth, it’s because basic couple rules do not apply to them. They’re both toxic narcissistic red flags and therefore they can be as awful as they want to each other, and the other will simply shake it off. Yet there’s still heavy trust between the two (never being scared of each other) and they still have little moments together where they’re genuinely happy. It’s unique, and something I’ve never seen in media before.
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Basically, if you liked Vox better when you thought he was a poor little baby being abused by Val, read a fan fiction. There’s a lot of them out there.
But people really just need to accept the fact that he’s an awful person. Always has been. He’s not better than Val by ANY means. He and Val are both evil pricks who deserve each other.
And guess what? LIKING AN EVIL CHARACTER DOES NOT MEAN YOU SUPPORT THEIR CHOICES. IT’S OKAY TO LIKE VOX EVEN IF HE IS EVIL.
But don’t go on saying that Vox was “ruined” as a character when all signs have always pointed to him being terrible.
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miupow · 7 months
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♪ ☁️ things txt would say during makeup sex .ᐟ
─── ♡ [ 🎧 ] NSFW, MDNI .ᐟ service top sub!soobin, cowgirl, doggy style, oral sex (f. rec), begging, soft dom!yeonjun, mean dom!beomgyu, missionary, teasing, soft!tyun, subby!hueningkai, size kink if you squint
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soobin -> "'m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m— i’m gonna cum!“ 
-> his service top behavior jumps 100%  -> just wants to make you feel good, use his body to make yourself cum ;( if he's a good boy, will you forgive him? he'll do anything you ask! sit on his face, ride him, fuck you in doggy.. as long as he's making you happy :>t -> holds you super tight around the middle when you're bouncing on his cock :< cuddles you against his chest so sweet so you can hear his pretty moans!! -> will actually grovel n beg for forgiveness just to be able to cum inside
yeonjun -> "let me make it up to you, baby~" 
-> softer n gentler than usual :( soft carresses, no spanking n gripping, no calling himself daddy, just sweet gentle jjunie making love to his girl~ -> lots of kisses, both on your lips n all over ur body~  -> hates it when ur mad at him, gets so pouty n sad :(( babies you so soft n sickly sweet you forget why you're upset in the first place  -> eating pussy is his favorite way to get you to forgive him! can't stay mad when he's between your thighs giving you mindblowing head heehe
beomgyu -> "awe, you don't look so mad now, princess” 
-> fucks you stupid so you forget what you were arguing about :> doesn’t go softer or sweeter, goes harder even eeeekk -> likes missionary for makeup sex so he can watch ur face n tease you for looking less n less angry the more he dicks you down lol -> honestly he just makes you more mad at him but the dick is so good you can’t do anything about it >///<  -> makes it up to you by genuinely apologizing with a sweet kiss after he’s made the both of you cum <3
taehyun -> “do you forgive me, angel?” 
-> lots of sweet “i love you”s n praise :> absolute pillow princess treatment, kissing your pout :( -> also becomes a total service top when you’re mad at him heehee.. he’ll make you forgive him one way or another -> won’t give you his cock but will give you his mouth or his fingers, fuck you open nice n slow while he tells you how sorry he is for upsetting you ;( even if it was you who started it :3 -> makes you cum multiple multiple times eeee, won’t stop until you’re shaking and promising that you’ve forgiven him for his misdeeds lol 
hueningkai -> “feels so good, love you so much!!” 
-> oh baby boy HATES when you argue!!! he can’t stand you being upset with him or vice versa… your boyfie has to make it better immediately!! -> soooo many kisses n cuddles n sweet sweet words,,, you’re his baby, his darling, the love of his life… he’s such a sweet talker when he needs to be lol -> ohhh he’s so sweet n gentle when he’s fucking you open as an “i’m sorry”… big fat cock filling you up so good it makes your eyes roll back >< lots of attention to your tits n belly, rubbing your thighs, etc  -> nuzzles your neck n whispers soft in your ear :( drapes his big broad body over yours so you’re all tangled together :((
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taglist: @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @takemehye, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi, @numxra, @soobinsbuns, @taegimood, @jeniihss, @soobabby, @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz, @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie, @ttaesoob, @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr, @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari, @lurking-coconut, @horanghaelovr, @yyeonzi, @paegesoobin , @nightlyhyuka, @urstylezx , @f4iryfever
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not-neverland06 · 25 days
Note
hi!! Given my obsession for Hugh jackman I am CRAVING for some Leopold X reader (from Kate & Leopold)! Maybe with some little angst but happy ending??
I love your blog!! Have a wonderful day 😽💐💓
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Leopold Mountbatten x fem!reader a/n: I don’t know how controversial this is going to be and I don’t care. I could never finish the movie because I hated Meg Ryan in it so much. It’s so odd, I’ve loved her in everything else she’s been in but she made it such a hard watch. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of my grandma in the worst way lol, but I finished it for you anon sorry this was a little rushed Anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies Summary: Your neighbor went back in time and dragged someone back with him. He's irritatingly polite and far too interested in your way of life. What are you meant to do when you fall for a man who was never even supposed to meet you?
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“Hello, madam, please I need your help!”
You’re used to crazies, it is New York after all. But they’re not usually shouting at you through your window. Especially not when you’re on the sixth floor. You look away from your coffee and glance towards the fire escape. 
There’s an oddly dressed man with red eyes waving at you through the dirty glass. You offer him a tentative wave back and he nods aggressively. “Yes, hello, I need your assistance.”
“Um,” you shake your head, “Sorry, I don’t have any drugs dude.”
“No,” he places his hands pathetically on the glass and shakes his head. “Please, I have been kidnapped.” Finally, you take a step closer to him. You can tell now that his eyes aren’t reddened from any medicinal fun, he probably got pepper sprayed. 
Your friend did it to you once when you tried to surprise her on her birthday and you’ll never forget just how awful you looked afterwards. You can see him a bit more clearly now. Whatever odd costume he’s got on, it looks good. Genuine and clean. 
Not like most of the street performers you see in Times Square. Besides, he doesn’t have that maddened look in his eye that makes you worry he’s going to come inside and kill you. Tentatively, you open the window. 
He’s leaping through in a second and you jump back with a yelp. He turns towards you and his eyes widen before he quickly turns away. “My good lady, where are your pants?”
“Uh,” you glance down at the oversized shirt you’re wearing and the tiny shorts underneath. Admittedly, it’s a little skimpy, but you’re not walking around naked. You’ve heard of committing to the bit, but this is a bit much. “On,” you tell him, walking around him and trying to stand close to the phone. 
“Ma’am-” He’s cut off as someone slams their fist on your front door. You keep a weary eye on the man while you unlock your door. 
“Hey,” Stuart smiles at you. His eyes drift slightly past your shoulder and he goes barging into your apartment. “Leopold! What did I say?”
You huff and glare at Stuart’s frantic back. “This is yours?” Stuart nods and rushes Leopold out the door. You don’t miss the pleading, while slightly scandalized, look he sends you. 
You slam the door closed behind them, shaking your head and going back to your morning paper. You doubt you’ll be seeing him around again. 
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You know, it’s just your luck that your upstairs neighbor is a scientist, one who happens to dabble in the art of time travel. And it’s just your luck that he had to fall down a damn elevator shaft. 
Now, according to him, you have to care for someone from a different century so he can make it back to his time portal in, well, in time. This is fucking ridiculous. “I’m going to kill you, Stuart.”
“Look, they’re going to take my phone but he really cannot-”
It goes silent on the other end. You shout his name a few times but hear nothing in response. You assume the hospital staff has finally gotten sick of his shenanigans and has taken his phone. You slam your handset down with a huff and look towards the living room. Leopold hasn’t sat down since you walked in and it’s unsettling. 
“So,” you start and his attention snaps towards you. “1876, huh?”
He nods and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “Oh, this is insane. This is insane,” you mutter to yourself, walking towards Stuart’s door. Leopold gives you a concerned look before quickly following after you. There’s a part of you, and you hate that part, that actually believes some of this. 
Stuart is a brilliant, though flawed, scientist. You don’t doubt that he might have actually unlocked the secret to traveling back to the past, but it’s such an insane idea to try and wrap your head around. 
“Come on, we’re leaving.” You know that Stuart doesn’t want him out of the house. Tough. You’re not going to just stay inside and wait until he can supposedly go back to the past. You don’t give Leopold any time to process your answer, already out the door and heading towards the stairs. 
“You know,” he starts as he catches up to you. “You are quite rude.” Your first instinct is to snap back at him. But you take a breath and stop yourself. 
You’re desensitized, ridiculously used to just how awful New Yorkers can be to each other. And whether this man is truly from the past or not is up for debate. But he is polite and earnest, and you have no reason to be a bitch to him. 
“I’m,” the words are hard to come by but you force them out anyway, “I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely surprised by the apology and it only makes you feel worse. “This is just an insane idea to try and grasp.”
He chuckles softly, smiling as he glances down at his feet. “Yes, how do you think I feel?”
You’re sure it’s not his intention, but you only feel like more of an ass. If this is hard for you, whatever he's going through is a hundred times worse. You weren’t forcefully ripped out of your own time and shoved into another you don’t understand. He’s still trying to comprehend the television.
Though, you’re sure being a scientist has helped him in marginally understanding how all of this is possible. “How do you like the future?” It sounds awkward and stiff, but you haven’t had to talk to anyone in a really long time. 
Your interactions are pretty limited at the book shop considering no one ever comes in. They all order online nowadays and all you really have to worry about is organizing shelves. You’re embarrassingly rusty when it comes to conversing. 
And his propensity towards eloquence only makes you feel worse. “I must admit, some of your inventions have been quite fascinating. I’m especially fond of your showers.”
Your face scrunches slightly at the mention of hygiene and you nod, “I bet.” Before either of you can attempt to salvage this horrible attempt at conversation your phone starts ringing. “Hold on one second,” you tell him. You walk a few feet away from him but you can still feel his eyes boring into your back as you move away. 
“Hello?”
There’s a frantic shout of your name down the line and then the distinct jingling of keys. “I need you to cover the shop. Marcy just went into labor and I’ve got to go!” Paul doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he hangs up. 
Your jaw gapes and you stare down at your phone with shock. You know Paul and his wife had been expecting, but had it really already been nine months? Has your life become so monotonous and dull that nine months doesn’t even register for you?
It’s a depressing thought. One you’d rather not linger on. “What was that?”
You scream, though the people passing by don’t pay you any mind, and jump away from Leopold. “Jesus, where the hell did you come from?”
Leopold flinches away from you and his face is just as aghast as yours. “Good heavens, what is the matter with you? Do you respond to anything as a sensible woman might?”
“I resent that.” You tell him bitterly. Though, he does make a good point. You’ve been on edge constantly. You always seem to be more anxious than you are happy. It’s not a good state to perpetually exist in. “I need to go into work.”
You don’t want to outright say that he needs to go back to the apartment. It feels a little mean, but you’re hoping he’ll catch onto your tone of voice. 
His entire demeanor perks up and he smiles at you. “Wonderful, I am dreadfully curious as to what you do.”
You open your mouth to correct him, let him know he’s not coming. But he’s staring at you with such hopeful eyes that you cannot find it in yourself to turn him down. He seems so excited, you’re sure he won’t be when he gets to your cluttered little bookshop. You let out a weary sigh, “Fine. Okay.”
You walk towards the curb, hoping to hail a cab. But Leopold’s hand gently wraps around your elbow and tugs you in the opposite direction. Your eyes widen in response to his boldness. You thought touching a woman he wasn’t courting would cause someone like him to combust. Seems he didn’t mind breaking the rules sometimes. 
You make a mental note of that for later. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the information, but you find it intriguing. Maybe the modern world was rubbing off on him more than he’d like to admit. 
“We should take this,” he stops you in front of a horse-drawn carriage and you immediately begin to shake your head. 
“No, Leopold, these are just tourist traps-”
He doesn’t let you finish, opening the carriage’s door and gently nudging you inside. “Nonsense! This is far more enjoyable than those yellow monstrosities.”
“Taxi,” you correct. You turn towards the carriage driver and give him directions to your bookshop. “Ink and Tea on Fifth.” He nods and the carriage rolls forward with a lurch. You grip the cushioned seats and pray you don’t get motion sickness. 
“Ink and Tea?” Leopold inquires. “Are you a journalist?”
You smile and shake your head. “No, nothing so fancy. I just help take care of an old bookshop. They were supposed to extend the shop when it first opened. They were going to build a space for people to get pastries or drink tea, but it never happened and the owner was too lazy to change the name.”
It feels a little humiliating to be talking about your minimum-wage job to a renowned scientist. He’s invented or is going to, elevators. He doesn’t care about your stupid shop. But he doesn’t look particularly judgy of you. If anything he seems to be endeared to you the more you talk. 
Normally, you’re oblivious to these sorts of things. But it’s nearly impossible for him to hide. He’s not shy with his attraction, never taking his eyes off of you and hanging onto your every word. You’re not used to such outward attention. 
You look out of the carriage, pretending to take in views you’ve already seen a thousand times. “This city is incredible,” he wonders aloud. His awe is palpable. 
Your nose wrinkles and you shrug. “It’s dirty and the people are intolerable.”
“Must you always be so pessimistic?” You snap your mouth shut and feel embarrassment creeping around you. You’ve never had someone point out when you’re being negative, but he has a point. 
You used to view the city through the same rose-colored glasses. Something’s broken inside you in recent years that has just taken the joy out of life. Everything is grey to you now, until Leopold, nothing spectacular has ever really happened to you. 
The carriage comes to a stop outside the shop before you can respond to him. You want to deny what he says, but you can’t. Your attitude is almost always unnecessary. You think sometimes you might just be trying to see if everyone feels as miserable as you do or if there’s just something wrong with you. 
“Come on,” you tell him, getting out and paying the driver. He wanders towards the shop, eyeing the displays in the window curiously. 
“These are wonderful,” he tells you, pointing to the way you’d made the books look like they’re floating above the shelves. It was just some silly little thing you’d tried to get more people in the shop. It’d worked for about a month. 
“I did that,” you unlock the door to the shop and open it for him. But he doesn’t walk in immediately, instead, he lingers in the doorway. He offers you a soft smile and you can’t help but return it. 
“You’re more creative than you give yourself credit for.”
Your eyes widen as you watch him walk inside. He keeps making these oddly astute observations about you and it’s throwing you off your game. You barely know this man and you’ve always been good at keeping yourself aloof and vague. Yet, he seems to read you like you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. 
“Feel free to…” he’s already made himself comfortable somewhere in the back and you trail off. “Look around,” you finish lamely. His form is lost somewhere in stacks of books and cluttered shelves. 
You know most of the classics and history books are kept towards the back. You wonder if he’s reminiscing or getting a headstart before he gets back to his time. You smile at the thought and walk behind the counter, sitting on the stool and preparing to finish off the rest of the day.
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Leopold is still somewhere lost to you an hour later. Occasionally you’ll hear a page flip or the clatter of a book being reshelved, but there are no other signs of life. Not until the bell above the door rings. 
“Clark,” you smile, sitting up straighter as your friend walks through the door. “What’re you doing here?”
He gives you a crooked grin and shrugs. Just over his shoulder, you can see Leopold’s head pop over a shelf, he looks between you both, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Paul told me you’d be here, figured you might want some company.”
“Actually-” you start, but another voice cuts you off. 
“Leopold Mountbatten,” he comes around the corner, hand outstretched as he comes in between you and Clark. “And who might you be?”
Your brows furrow in confusion at the interaction. Leopold seems oddly hostile and Clark looks strangely caught off guard. “Um, Clark. Nice to meet you, man.” He shakes Leopold’s hand but his grip is weak and it only lasts for one awkward half-second. 
It’s uncomfortable to watch them try and interact and it only gets worse when they turn towards you. Clearly, they want you to tell them who the hell the other guy is. But you feel like that might just make the situation worse. 
Besides, you were pretty content with it just being you and Leopold, you don’t need Clark coming in here and riling things up. “You know, Clark, I’m set here. You can just go home.” Your tone leaves no room for argument but you know he wants to. 
“Alright, I’ll just call you later, I guess.” He throws one last skeptical look at Leopold before finally slinking back out of the shop. 
“Neither of you should be alone without a chaperone present.” Leopold bluntly scolds you without even waiting a second before Clark is gone. It catches you off guard and you scoff. 
You motion between the two of you, “We don’t have a chaperone.” 
Leopold shrugs, “Yes, well, I’m not courting you.” It shouldn’t, because he’s right, but that stings. He is attractive, surprisingly so. You have this odd belief that anyone from his century had to be at least a little ugly. But he’s near perfect. 
Hearing him tell you so bluntly that you’re not courting hurts a little. Though, you can’t blame him. You must be dramatically different than the women he’s used to. From your manners to how you dress, you’re practically an alien. 
You stand up from behind the counter and walk towards the cart of books that need to be shelved. “Clark is a friend. Nothing more.” You’ve never once been romantically interested in your friend. He’s attractive, but he’s not really your type.
Apparently, British men from the nineteenth century are. Which does not bode well for your romantic prospects once Leopold is back home. “It is plain for anyone to see how he wants you. Don’t let yourself be blinded by naivete.”
“Naivete?” you scoff and turn around to glare at him. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, alright? I’m not some maiden in a frilly dress who needs a chaperone.” You can see that your words affect him. He looks a little taken aback by your anger and so are you. 
It’s misplaced. You’re not mad at him, just mad that you even like him. “Just go read or something, Leopold.” You dismiss him more rudely than necessary and hide yourself behind a few shelves. The rest of your workday is spent in a tense silence that makes your stomach churn. 
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You’re nearly ready for bed when something slips under your door with a slight whoosh. You turn towards it, frowning when you see a little envelope with a wax seal on the ground. You pick it up and let your finger slip under the paper, opening it to find a letter with your name on it inside. 
The handwriting is impeccable, with a gracefulness to it that you’ve never seen before. You don’t have to read for very long to know who it's from. Leopold writes poetry about the color of your eyes and the way your lips curl when you smile. And then he ends it with a vague, nearly ominous, invitation to dinner. 
You can’t help but smile to yourself, changing out of your pajamas and slipping into something a little nicer. A few minutes later you’re climbing out your window and taking the stairs up the fire escape to the roof. 
You don’t believe your ears at first, thinking the music must be coming from another apartment. But when you make it up to the roof there’s a violin player there waiting for you. He smiles happily at you as you approach. 
You spin in a slow circle, taking in the sheer amount of flowers littered around the roof. You don’t know how he managed to afford all of this. He transformed the barren and empty rooftop into your own little paradise. Candles lit and a live musician playing for you. 
You’ve never had anyone do something like this for you, ever. It’s a little hard to accept that someone would be willing to put this much effort in for you. “I wasn’t entirely sure you would come.”
You turn around and Leopold is waiting behind you, that familiar smile playing on his lips. You aren’t aware of the grin forming on your face in response. You don’t have much control over that when you’re with him. 
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He looks like he wants to respond but at the last moment thinks better of it. He instead pulls your chair out for you, helping you into your seat. “This is nice,” that feels too underwhelming a word for such an incredible gesture. 
You sigh and frown as you try and find the right words. You don’t notice him sitting down across from you. You only look up when you feel him placing his hand on your own. “It’s alright,” he assures you. 
It’s still so odd how he can know you so well after such little time. “This is incredible,” you tell him, undeterred by his attempts to soothe you. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”
He looks like he takes personal offense to that and it makes you laugh. “You deserve far more than this. Sadly, it seems Stuart’s pockets do have limits and I’m afraid I would have put him into debt if I’d gone any further.”
You have the perfect mental image of Stuart coming back from the hospital only to find his science project has robbed him. It makes you laugh and you squeeze his hand once before drawing it back into your lap. He lets his touch linger on you for a long moment, seemingly reluctant to pull away. 
“No,” you tell him, “this is perfect.” 
You fall into a comfortable silence for a little while. Conversation mostly drifting toward what his life was like as a duke. You don’t have much to say about your own life. It’s been incredibly normal and you’re a little sad to find that you don’t have one good thing to share with him. 
Nothing comes to the front of your mind. 
Inevitably, you drift into the topic you’d both been so adamantly avoiding. “Has Stuart said when you’d need to return?”
Leopold’s grip on the fork tightens and for a moment he refuses to meet your eye. “Monday, I’m afraid.”
“Oh,” your eyes widen and you feel something burning at the back of your throat. Monday, the same Monday that’s two days away. 
“Dance with me,” the suddenness of the demand catchers you so off guard that you forget the tears. He stands, holding out his hand to you. You almost say no, you can’t remember the last time you danced and you doubt it’s going to be pretty. 
But he whispers your name and something about his tone tells you to take the chance while you have it. You slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t sweep you off your feet and dance the night away. 
Instead, he holds you close and you sway together. Like moving even an inch away from each other would hurt. “You could come with me,” he tells you. And you know immediately what he’s talking about. 
You also know it could never happen. Going to the nineteenth century is insane. Even considering it should be enough to have you sent to a psych ward somewhere. Especially not for a man you’ve known for less than a month. 
You try and tell him that you can’t, but he stops you. “I know, a preposterous idea. I just wanted to think about it.” You look up at him and find that you can’t take that away from him. There’s nothing wrong with imagining what it could be like with him. Even when you know it can never happen. 
You dance like that for a little while longer, swaying against each other while the violin plays in the background. He whispers your name and when you gaze up at him this time, there’s a certain look in his eye that you know is reflected in your own. 
He dips down, lips caressing yours gently before he’s pushing more firmly against your own. The world stops. Cliche, you’re aware. For the first time in years, though, you’re alive. You feel something other than the dull monotony of life. You feel excited and terrified all at once. Because you know you can never have this feeling again. 
You will never meet another man like Leopold who ignites this spark of life and passion within you. Never has a man been able to make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made with just a kiss, but here he is. 
Your arms lift like you might try and draw him in closer. His hands come up, taking yours in his gentle hold and squeezing. He pulls away from you and reality comes crashing back down. You’re not in love, you can’t be. You’ve only just met him a few days ago. 
Yet, here you are, wondering if you might actually want to leave everything behind to be with him like the great romances authors write about. He smiles at you and there’s a bittersweetness to it, a final farewell that you know will break whatever is left of your heart. 
He lifts your knuckles to his lips, pressing his lips against them like he never wants to part. “Goodnight,” he whispers your name and backs away from you. You watch him go, watch him leave, unable to muster up any words for him. 
You can’t think of anything that would ease this gnawing ache inside of you. Nothing to soothe the pain for either of you. You let him go because you know if you asked him to stay he would. And how selfish of you would it be to let history unravel simply because you fell in love? 
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Monday. It is Monday. You’ve been coming to terms with that all weekend. You don't want to think about the fact that Leopold will be gone tonight. Your time together was so brief but you feel like you’re never going to get over losing him. 
Before the night was over on Sunday, a note was slipped under your door. This handwriting was messy, it made you think someone other than Leopold had written it down, but you don’t know who it could have been. 
It was a date and time, jump off the Brooklyn Bridge at this time on Monday night. Only an idiot would jump off a bridge because of an ominous note slipped under her door. But you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of it, not since you first picked it up. 
Leopold had invited you to go with him. And while you might not have said no, the insinuation was clear. Your eyes dart to your clock. If you left now, you could still make it in time. What an absolutely ridiculous thought. 
So, why are you running out the door without locking it? Why do you not care who slips into your home now? There’s this sense of finality within you that lets you know you’re never going to see that place again and that’s okay. 
You never truly felt comfortable in your life. You always thought a part of yourself was missing. Or that you were always running late for something. You think you understand what you were feeling now. 
The thing you’ve been searching for your whole life wasn’t halfway across the world, a hundred thousand miles from you. He was on the wrong side of time, or you were, at least. 
You manage to snag a taxi to get to the bridge but there’s a traffic jam. You’re forced to jump out of the car and run through the different lanes of blocked traffic. People shout at you. Your cab driver screaming after you about your fare. You don’t care, the only thing you can think about is the note crumpled in your hands and the clock counting down how long you have to jump. 
You’ll either be on the news tomorrow as an unfortunate suicide. An idiot who accidentally threw herself off the wrong side of the bridge. Or, you’ll see Leopold again. 
You reach the ledge and you can’t hesitate. If you do, you won’t jump in time. You close your eyes, holding your breath like you’re jumping into your neighbor’s pool. Air rushes around you, whipping at your hair and skin violently. 
It’s not until you hear someone shouting down at you that you realize you’re not dead. You’re lying in the middle of a dirt road, a group of people staring down at you with concern in their eyes. 
You only have to take in the clothes they’re wearing to know you’ve made it. Before they can react you’re leaping to your feet and running off. You know you’re near the Brooklyn Bridge, or where it’s supposed to be at least. You know enough about the area to remember where Leopold’s house is supposed to be. 
You’re covered in sweat and red mud. The people you pass by in the streets hide behind their hands and whisper about you. You’re not making a good impression on your future neighbors, that’s for sure. But, honestly, all you care about is making it back to him. 
You see people congregating outside his uncle’s home. You know there’s a party inside, that he’s supposed to be announcing who his wife will be. You barrel through the people outside, shoving through the crowd and running up the steps of the house. 
You can hear Leopold’s voice as you run, “The woman I’m going to take as my wife is-”
There’s a loud gasp as you come panting into the room. You can’t catch your breath long enough to speak but it doesn’t matter. The crowd is parting around you and Leopold is smiling down at you. He says your name and there’s nothing else that matters about the world around you. Not when you finally found each other. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Kate & Leopold, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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ahqkas · 29 days
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♯ ME AND THE DEVIL ; mattheo riddle
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PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS! they didn't understand how you did it, how you tamed the devil, how you made him fall so deeply in love with you that the darkness in him seemed to shrink in your presence. but the truth was, you hadn't tamed him at all. you’d simply loved him, and that was all mattheo riddle ever needed to be tamed ( based on this req.!! )
WORD COUNT! 1.6k
WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, reader is described to have hair . lmk of more if found please
NOTES! proud to say i’m obsessed with this relationship dynamic && how this turned out . all the credits to the pretty devider below belong to @/menschenopfer !
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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THE DEVIL IS REAL AND HE IS NOT SOME LITTLE RED MAN WITH HORNS AND TAIL LURKING IN THE SHADOWS. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite. He wears the face of a man, a smile that can soothe even the most restless heart, and eyes that seem to hold all the answers you've ever sought. He is beautiful, captivating in a way that makes you forget the dangers of dancing with darkness. In his presence, you'll find no fire, no urge to flee — only the slow, seductive burn of a flame that whispers promises too sweet to resist.
That was your Mattheo.
There was a certain reputation that followed Mattheo Thomas Riddle wherever he went, an aura of danger and unpredictability that made students give him a wide berth in the corridors of Hogwarts. Hushed whispers went after him like a shadow, tales of his dark family history and the fierce temper that boiled just below the surface of his skin. The mocking smirk that often played on his lips only added to the mystery, and the way he carried himself — confident, unyielding — left little doubt that he was someone to be reckoned with.
But then there was you, someone who seemed to have done the impossible.
You, with your quiet strength and unshakable resolve, had become the only one who could temper the storm within him. It wasn't just that you weren't afraid of him, it was that you saw him, truly saw him, beyond the name people tagged the boy with. Where others saw only the 'son of You-Know-Who' or 'Voldemort's one and only heir', the devil's progeny, you saw the boy behind the names. You saw the struggles he came from, the vulnerability he buried beneath layers of bravado.
People ouldn't help but stare as you walked down the hallways together, your fingers comfortably intertwined with Mattheo's. You were his opposite in so many ways — where he was brooding, you were bright; where he was sharp, you were soft. It was a juxtaposition that made everyone wonder just how you managed to tame the so-called "devil" of Hogwarts.
You'd hear the murmurs as you passed by, the way some students would quickly avert their eyes as if afraid to be caught staring. Others, more curious or perhaps bolder, would watch with a mix of awe and disbelief, as if trying to solve a puzzle that didn't quite make sense. How could someone so seemingly gentle be with someone as dangerous as Mattheo Riddle?
But they didn't see what you did. They didn't see the way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, the way his tough exterior melted when it was just the two of you. They didn't see the way he'd listen intently to your every word, his attention unwavering, as if nothing else in the world mattered because it was the truth; nothing else mattered to him than you.
And perhaps most surprising to them would be the way he smiled — truly smiled — when he was with you. It wasn't the sharp, almost menacing grin he'd flash when someone annoyed him, but a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. It was a smile that told you, and anyone else who bothered to look close enough, that Mattheo Riddle was more than just the dark reputation that surrounded him.
You'd catch the way his hand would tighten around yours in a crowd, his thumb brushing against your skin in a gesture of reassurance. Or the way he'd lean down to press a kiss to your temple when he thought no one was looking, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. These were the moments that made you smile to yourself, knowing that despite what others thought, there was so much more to him than they could ever understand.
There was an incident once, in the Great Hall, where some younger Slytherins were laughing too loudly about something — until Mattheo glanced their way. The laughter died almost immediately, replaced by nervous glances and shuffling feet. But then, with you beside him, you nudged your boyfriend gently and whispered something in his ear. Whatever you said made him chuckle, the sound low and rich, and just like that, the tension in the air dissipated. The younger students exchanged bewildered looks, clearly wondering what spell you'd cast to make him laugh like that.
It was in these moments that the real magic of your relationship showed itself — not in taming the so-called devil, but in understanding him. In knowing that beneath the hard exterior, Mattheo was someone who needed love just as much as anyone else. And you gave it to him without reservation, without fear, seeing the good in him that others were too blind to notice.
Of course, there were times when that darkness would surface, when his temper would flare or his patience would run thin. But even then, you knew how to bring him back, how to calm the storm that raged within him. A soft word, a gentle touch, and he'd remember himself. He'd remember that he didn't have to fight the world alone — that he had you by his side.
And so, the students of Hogwarts continued to wonder, to speculate. They'd see you together in the courtyard, Mattheo's arm draped casually over your shoulders as you talked about everything and nothing. They'd see the way you'd laugh at something he said, your smile lighting up the space between you, and how he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered.
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The two of you were sitting beneath one of the old oak trees in the courtyard, the late afternoon sun casting dappled shadows across the grass. You were leaned against the trunk, a loved book in your lap, while Mattheo sat beside you, one arm draped lazily over your shoulders. The gentle breeze played with your hair, and every now and then, your boyfriend would reach over to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. It was a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter every time.
You couldn't help but notice the way students passing by would glance your way, their eyes lingering on the Riddle heir with a mix of fear and curiosity. You'd grown used to it by now, the way people would whisper behind your backs, wondering how someone like you had ended up with someone like him.
"They're staring again," you murmured to him, your eyes flicking up from your book to catch the gaze of a group of Ravenclaws who quickly looked away when they realized they'd been caught.
Mattheo unwillingly tore his attentive gaze away from you and followed the line of your vision, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the sight he came to see. "Let them," he said casually, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your temple. "They'll get over it eventually."
You smiled slightly and leaned closer to his lips, the warmth of his affection soothing any unease that brewed in you. "It's just . . . I know how they see you," you said, your tone more thoughtful than concerned. "And I know they don't really get us."
He tilted his head, studying you with a calm expression on his face. "Do you care what they think?"
"Not really," you admitted, glancing back at him through your eyelashes. "But it's hard not to notice, you know? Sometimes I just wonder what they're thinking."
The Slytherin shrugged, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Probably trying to figure out if you've got me under some love spell. Because obviously, there's no other reason I'd be with someone like you, right?"
You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly. "You sound ridiculous."
"But I'm right," he teased, his smile softening. "They only see what they want to see. They don't know you like I do."
"And what do you see?" you asked, curious despite yourself.
He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I see someone who's smart, kind, and who doesn't put up with anyone's nonsense — including mine. And I'm good with that."
You couldn't help but smile at his words, appreciating the simplicity of them. "And you? What about what they think of you?"
"They can think what they like," he said easily, his fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder now. "I'm not here to make anyone else comfortable. I'm here because I want to be."
You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Yeah. Me too."
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the courtyard filling the air around you. You leaned into his side, your book forgotten as you let yourself relax, content just to be there with him.
"So, who's got the next match against us again?" your boyfriend asked suddenly, his tone casual as if he hadn't just been talking about something far more serious.
You laughed softly, glad for the shift in conversation. "Gryffindor, next Saturday. And I'm not missing it."
"Good," he said, smiling as he looked out at the courtyard. "Because I want you there."
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They didn't understand how you did it, how you tamed the devil, how you made him fall so deeply in love with you that the darkness in him seemed to shrink in your presence.
But the truth was, you hadn't tamed him at all. You'd simply loved him, and that was all Mattheo Riddle ever needed to be tamed.
592 notes · View notes
misspygmypie · 29 days
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Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 7
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2332 Click here for Part 6
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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Max wasn’t just any friend - he was a fellow former racer, gaming buddy and part of Lando’s team at Quadrant. Their history went way back to their childhood karting days and today he was about to meet Lando’s new little family.
Noah’s eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight of the go-karts when they were walking through the track. Lando walked right behind him, holding Y/N’s hand and guiding the little boy gently with the other.
“There he is,” Lando said, spotting Max near the Quadrant camera setup, laughing with some of their other members. Max caught sight of Lando and his grin widened, making his way over with his usual easygoing stride.
“Mate, finally,” Max greeted, pulling Lando into a brotherly embrace, then stepping back to look at Y/N and Noah. “And you must be Y/N and Noah I’ve heard so much about!”
“Nice to finally meet you, Max,” Y/N smiled warmly. “Lando’s told us all about you.”
Max pulled her into a quick hug and then crouched down to Noah’s level, his smile widening. “Hey there buddy, you know, Lando told me you’re really good at video games. Maybe even better than him, right?”
Noah giggled shyly, looking up at Lando for confirmation. Lando chuckled and nodded. “He’s a natural, he can game for hours.”
Max straightened up, turning his attention back to Lando. “Speaking of which, remember the time we were doing that endurance karting race and you insisted on pushing the limits every lap?”
Lando groaned, already knowing where Max was headed. “Oh no, not this story…”
Max smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. “So there we were, in this all-night karting race and Lando here was determined to beat my lap times. It was the middle of the night, pitch dark and he somehow managed to miss the pit entry and ended up driving straight into the team’s camping tent!”
Y/N burst out laughing, covering her mouth in surprise, while Noah’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Did you really drive into a tent, Lando?” Noah asked, his voice filled with awe.
Lando sighed dramatically but couldn’t help but laugh along. “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment. But in my defense, it was dark and I was just trying to keep up with Max.”
“Always trying to outdo me, even in the most ridiculous ways,” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “And let’s not forget the time you tried to film a stunt for Quadrant, only to slip and end up flat on your back, live in front of thousands of viewers!”
Y/N raised an eyebrow at Lando, who was now blushing slightly. “Oh, so you’ve always been this smooth, huh?”
Lando groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Max, you’re supposed to make me look good in front of Y/N, not tell her about every time I’ve messed up!”
“Come on, that’s what friends are for! Besides, you’ve got to stay humble, right?” Max just grinned, clearly loving every moment of this. 
As they continued to chat, Max kept the stories coming, sharing tales of their karting days, their countless pranks on each other and the early days of Quadrant. With every story Y/N could see how deep their friendship ran and how much they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.
Noah tugged on Max’s sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can we drive go-karts together sometime, Max?”
“Absolutely, buddy,” Max’s face lit up, “we’ll set up a special day just for you. Maybe I’ll even teach you some tricks, just don’t tell Lando!”
The day went on and after the video for Quadrant was all filmed they all ended up at Max’s place for the rest of the day. With every passing minute it became clearer and clearer that Noah and Max were hitting it off. The moment Max crouched down to Noah’s level the two seemed to form an instant bond. The little boy was fascinated by Max’s stories, his jokes and the way he talked to him like they were equals.
Lando watched them, a smile on his face, but there was a twinge of something else - something like jealousy - bubbling inside of him. He was thrilled that Noah and Max were getting along so well but he couldn’t help but feel a bit left out as his best friend and girlfriend's son formed their own little duo.
Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Lando’s mood and gave him a gentle nudge. “You okay?” she asked softly, a knowing look in her eyes.
Lando shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect them to hit it off this well.”
“You know Noah adores you, right?” Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “He’s just excited to meet someone new who’s as cool as you.”
Lando chuckled, though he still felt a little pang of envy as he watched Max and Noah. The two were now huddled together, Max showing Noah how to use a racing simulator setup. Noah was completely enthralled, his little hands gripping the steering wheel as Max guided him through the basics.
“Look, Lando! I’m driving,” Noah called out, his voice filled with excitement.
Lando forced a smile and walked over, ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re doing great, buddy,” he said, trying to shake off the feeling of being the third wheel.
Max glanced up at Lando, catching the hint of jealousy in his friend’s eyes. He smirked and teased, “don’t worry, mate. I’m not trying to steal your thunder. I’m just giving Noah a taste of the Fewtrell magic.”
Lando rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, I’m still his favorite.”
“We’ll see about that,” Max grinned, giving Noah a playful wink.
While Lando couldn’t deny that he was a little jealous he was also happy. Seeing Noah so happy and comfortable meant the world to him and he knew that Max was only adding to that joy.
Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Lando found himself sitting on a bench, watching as Max and Noah played a game of tag in Max’s backyard. Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting on his.
“You know, it’s okay to be a little jealous,” she said gently, reading his thoughts.
Lando sighed, leaning back. “I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing my best friend - or my family.”
Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “But that’s what makes it so special, right? You’re not losing anything, you’re just adding more love, more laughter and more memories.”
“You’re right,” Lando nodded, her words sinking in. “And honestly, seeing Noah this happy… It’s worth it.”
They watched Max chase Noah around and Lando felt the last of his jealousy melt away. In its place was a deep feeling of gratitude - gratitude for the people in his life who made every day brighter and for the moments that reminded him just how lucky he was.
“Lando,” Noah called out, running over to him with Max close behind. “Come play with us!”
Lando grinned, standing up and reaching out to lift Noah into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s see if you two can keep up with me!”
Y/N watched the three of them run off with a smile, knowing that they were building something special.
______
It was a sunny Sunday morning at the circuit a few weeks later and after the successful introduction of Y/N and Noah to his best friend Lando wanted to take the next big step: Introduce them to his parents. The moment had been on his mind for weeks and as he led them through the paddock he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
The three of them walked together, Noah in the middle holding each of Y/N and Lando’s hands. He was taking in the buzz of the race weekend and the people rushing around. His tiny hand tightened around his mother’s fingers as they approached the McLaren motorhome where Lando’s parents, Cisca and Adam, were waiting.
“They’re really looking forward to meeting you both,” Lando said, offering a reassuring smile. He had told his parents about Y/N and Noah the day after they had started dating and they had been eager to finally meet the two people who had brought so much joy into his life. Today, five months later, the day was finally here.
As they reached the entrance, Lando spotted his parents just inside, chatting with a few members of the team. Cisca was the first to notice them, her face lighting up as she nudged Adam and made her way over.
“Lando,” she exclaimed, pulling her son into a warm hug. Lando grinned and returned the embrace before turning to Y/N and Noah. “Mum, Dad, this is Y/N and this little guy here is Noah.”
Y/N felt a flutter of nerves as Cisca turned her attention to her but the warmth in the older woman’s eyes immediately put her at ease.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,” Cisca said, giving her a gentle hug. “Lando has told us so much about you both.”
Adam stepped forward shaking Y/N’s hand before crouching down to the boy. “So you are the famous Noah,” he said with a kind smile. “Are you excited to see the race?”
Noah nodded shyly, his big eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he said softly before glancing up at Lando. “I want to see Lando win.”
Adam chuckled. “Well, we all do! How about we go find some snacks and get ready to cheer him on?”
Noah’s face brightened at the mention of snacks and he nodded enthusiastically. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her son warming up to Lando’s parents so quickly.
While they made their way through the motorhome Lando stayed close to Y/N, occasionally glancing over to see how she was doing. She seemed more relaxed now and the sight of her laughing at something Cisca had said made him happy.
Cisca and Adam were instantly charmed by Noah’s curiosity and sweetness and Y/N found herself feeling more and more at ease as the morning went on. She could see where Lando got his kindness and sense of humor from.
Later, after they had all settled into their seats in the family area, Noah found himself a bit restless. The excitement of the day and the overwhelming sights and sounds of the racetrack were a lot for a four-year-old to take in. He fidgeted in his seat, his small hands gripping the edge as his eyes followed the blur of cars speeding by on the track.
Cisca noticed and leaned over with a warm smile. “Would you like to sit with me, Noah?” she asked softly, her voice gentle and inviting. Noah hesitated for a moment, glancing up at his mom. Y/N nodded encouragingly and with that silent approval Noah shuffled over to Cisca. 
“There we go, sweetheart,” Cisca said, lifting him onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him securely as he settled against her. The connection between them was immediate, as if he had always been part of the family.
Noah relaxed almost instantly, his earlier nervousness melting away in the comfort of her embrace. He leaned back against her, his tiny body fitting perfectly in her lap, and gazed out at the track with wide eyes. 
Cisca, noticing his gaze was still intent on the cars, pointed to the track. “Do you see Lando? He’s driving really fast! And we’re here to cheer him on, aren't we’?”
Noah nodded vigorously, his small hands gripping the edge of the seat as he leaned forward a little, as if that would help him see Lando’s car better. “Go, Lando, go!” he shouted, his voice ringing out clear and strong above the noise of the cars.
Cisca laughed softly and she gently rocked Noah as they both watched the race. Every time Lando’s car zoomed by Noah would point and cheer, his little voice growing hoarse but full of excitement.
Adam, sitting next to them, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, who was watching them obviously relieved. It was clear that seeing Noah so happy and comfortable with Lando’s parents was a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.
The race continued and Cisca and Noah formed a little routine. She would point out different things on the track, explaining them in simple terms that Noah could understand and he would respond with questions. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.
At one point the boy looked up at Cisca, his big, innocent eyes searching hers. “Can we always watch Lando’s races together?” he asked, his voice filled with the kind of sincerity only a child could have.
“Of course we can, Noah,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “We’re a team now and teams stick together.”
Noah beamed at her answer, turning his attention back to the track with renewed excitement. The race neared its end and Noah remained on Cisca’s lap, nestled comfortably against her. He was still full of energy, his little body practically buzzing and when Lando crossed the finish line the entire family erupted into cheers.
Cisca hugged the boy tightly while Adam reached over to ruffle Noah’s hair affectionately. “Looks like we’ve got a future racer in the family,” he joked, making everyone laugh.
Y/N, watching the exchange, felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushing it away before anyone could notice. She had always hoped that whoever came into her life would accept Noah as their own but to see Lando’s family not only accepting but also embracing her son with open arms was more than she could have ever dreamed of.
_____
A/N: Cisca's surprise visit yesterday was just so fricking cute 😍 so I decided to expand by 2 more chapters, I just love writing this series way too much, so stay tuned for Part 8!
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