•LADY LUCK•
•LADY LUCK•
LADYBUG X READER X TANGERINE
Having to work with the most annoying person on the planet, your feelings for Mr. Bucket Hat definitely change the longer you're forced to be around him. But what happens when you end up in a killing spree free-for-all and the British guy from the next compartment over decides he has the hots for you too?
⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of blood and gore, Sexual Innuendos, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of death ⚠️
Part One!!!
"You're in, Mantis."
The deep voice over your earpiece came through clear and curt as you made your way over to the train car you'd be stationed in until the mission was completed. Leaving the station, the bullet train made its way out of Tokyo and you could see the bright lights starting to dim as it pushed on towards the less populated portions of the city. You weren't phased by the sudden acceleration of the train as you had been on one of these a few years back when you'd been scouted for the team.
Thinking back to the night you were scouted to work under The White Death, you smiled at the memory. A train moving so fast that one would expect it to be safe from gunmen and their attempts at running a Cartel. Your family had watched in horror as the men infiltrated the train and held a couple people hostage, ready to use their lives for their own personal benefit. You were so stupid back then; a naivety that of which only comes with the contemptness of lifestyle. A younger version of yourself with less experience with this whole secret agent thing. You ended up saving your brother, three at the time, by turning the gun back onto the first person you’d ever killed. The White Death had been on that train and offered to free you from any charges you would face for murder if you had agreed to work under him. So, without much of a choice, you swore yourself to secrecy and began your work, never making it back home to spend time with the family members you had saved. You thought of them from time to time and how the news of your disappearance would have affected them. Not knowing if you made it out of that shitshow alive, that sort of thing. If only they hadn’t been captured by the same gunmen you joined The White Death to kill.
The man’s face still haunted your dreams. A gruesome imagination and a harsh grin plastered over his older face. A giant scar ran across the bottom of his chin and made its way up to his nose, stopping directly under his tired but blood-thirsty eyes.
"How much money is in the briefcase?" You asked Wyatt, the person who had been speaking to you over the small intercom. He had been assigned as your Handler from the White Death himself and he very much hated this position. It was your first day back on the job after helping to clean up the Bolivia incident.
"Enough to pay ransom for that idiotic stupid family of yours." He said, becoming cross with you within a matter of seconds it seemed. You wished it was easier to connect with your partner, but he had made it very clear from the get-go that there wasn't going to be any friendly aspects of the job.
“Ironic how you say ‘idiotic’ and ‘stupid’ in the same sentence considering how redundant that is.” You snapped back, sliding into one of the empty seats that were furthest away from everyone else. A window seat in the back provided you with the perfect view of a few of the platforms you'd be hitting and the places you'd encounter on your trip. The seats were an uncomfortable upholstery and were colored a terrible blue which you assumed was to be calming but it was far from it. The rest of the fucking compartment was that hideous color that one only looks at with fondness once they reach their last stop of the night. The time when one would part ways with the train and all of the single-serving people they were forced to interact with while they waited to finally make it to wherever they needed to go. Leaving the train and knowing you wouldn't have to see that god-awful color again until your next boarding.
Taking a quick glance around your compartment, you take out your computer and paperwork to make it seem as though you were on a business trip. In a way, you were, but people wouldn't think anything of you talking into an earpiece if there looked to be a reason someone was calling. Sticking the gun from the corner of your pocket into the crevice between the wall of the train and the seat, you try your absolute hardest to get comfortable until the next stop, when you knew you would have to act fast and run to the baggage area without suspicion. Assuming that’s where the case would be. You hoped you would be able to take it without much of a fight... you were tired of cleaning up the aftermath of people not giving you your way. Blood stains don’t come out easily.
Suddenly the seat in front of you was occupied. It startled you a bit at first since you were supposed to be alone, but you quickly recollected yourself and took note of the person before you. Longer blonde hair, thick rimmed glasses and a stupid bucket hat topped of this mystery man's look as he stared out into the walkway as if he was looking for someone or something. It seemed that he hadn't noticed you yet.
"Ahem." You said, clearing your throat to try and get the man to leave as this section of the train was clearly occupied.
“Mantis? Something wrong?” Wyatt answered from the earpiece, trying to make sure that the mission had started out going directly as planned. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have a chitchat with him while this stranger was in the vicinity, you switched it off and directed your attention at the person before you.
"Oh hey." The man said, turning around and staring you in the eyes. You could see him look you up and down before directing his gaze back to yours with an apologetic smile on his face. A strand of his bleached blonde hair fell from the hat atop his head and placed itself right in front of his eyes.
"This seat's taken."
He made an "oh" shape with his mouth as he nodded and smiled. Thanking the universe that that was all it took to get him to leave, you turn back to the window to wait for him to get up and go somewhere else. When that didn't happen, you turned back to the man only to see that he had moved a seat over instead of sitting in the one across from you by the window.
"Uh? Hello?" You said, shifting some of your stuff over to opposite side of the table so he wouldn't realize the papers weren’t written on.
"Oh hey again." He said once more, smiling at you and taking off his hat. His demeanor was giving “sexy professor” and you hated to admit it, but he was damn fine. You wondered how old he was but soon decided it didn't matter. This wasn't a social trip.
"Hey, yeah. I thought I mentioned that this seat was taken?" You said in a calm but firm tone, trying to ward him off from your mission. You weren't going to be able to talk to Wyatt about anything with this dumbass bucket hat dude eyeing you up every now and then.
Running his hands through his hair to restore some of its volume, he looked back up at you. "Yeah, you mentioned that. That's why I'm over here now." He said. So he was the asshole flirtatious type. Perfect.
"A seat over?"
"Well you said that one was taken."
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. What was with this guy? You thought American tourists at least knew that the trains in Japan were supposed to be quiet as a sign of respect to the other passengers. Guess not with this guy.
"You can't go sit in another compartment? Really?" You said, now letting some of your annoyance shine through.
"Are there any other hot people in those cars?" He asked with an aura of innocence despite the words that were leaving his mouth.
"Not any who'd be willing to talk to you."
"Feisty. That's how I like them."
You rolled your eyes in his direction and started to gather your things. If he was going to insist on sitting there, you would move yourself. You just had about everything packed up while he complained about you not wanting to sit next to him until you remembered the gun you had stuffed into the seat earlier. There was no way you'd be able to get it out now that this man was over here, trying his hardest to flirt his way into a better viewpoint of him. You put your things down and sat in your seat from before, hating that you had to give in to his pleas since you wouldn't be able to remove your weapon.
"Ah! You changed your mind." He said, a grin on his face and a confident tone now replacing his one from earlier.
"Whatever. When's your next stop?" You asked, trying to see how long you would have to deal with this moron for. An hour you could take, but if he was going all the way to Kyoto then this might possibly be the worst mission you've been given.
He smiled. "Whenever I can get out. Might take me until Kyoto, who knows."
Great. Just fucking great.
...
Tangerine held his hands in his suit pockets, feeling around for the familiarity of his pocket watch. He needed to know when phase two of their plan would commence and when he would be able to make his escape with his brother in tow, safe and sound. He hated having to be in this business but he would do whatever it took to keep Lemon safe and sound.
Walking into the train car with the hideous blue accent, he held a peculiar silver case in his hand with a sticker that looked as though it came out of a kid's coloring book. This sticker was a ploy to keep any wandering eyes out as they would assume it belonged to a five-year old or someone one that age. The blue train sticker beamed up at him as though it were urging him forward towards the luggage compartment ahead only for him to place it above him and Lemon's seats.
"I can take it." Lemon said, pressing for the case in Tangerine's hand. There was something magnificent about the case itself, as though it held a power that would trap everyone's fixation and would possess even the strongest of morals. It gleamed under the soft lighting and for a moment Tangerine recoiled. If he allowed Lemon to take the case and it be misplaced, their whole mission could be askew. But, he trusted his brother. Which is what led him to handing over the shiny object with a slight hesitation.
"Be careful with it, please." He said, worry prevalent in his eyes. He was tired from last night's event in Soho.
"I'm a secret agent. Of course I'm bloody careful." Lemon replied as he took the baggage and went to another compartment while Tangerine looked for a seat. Seeing one open in the back, he moved towards it with a calm expression on his face only to find that it was already occupied by a man in a stupid bucket hat and-
One of the most beautiful human beings he had ever set eyes on.
Her eyes were a beautiful color, a contrast from the hideousness of the train compartment before him. The way she held herself as though she knew her self worth, but was still modest and humble. Her hair which fell just slightly above her eyes as she moved about the compartment, gathering the miscellaneous papers and electronics. As soon as everything was gathered up, she froze in place and stared at her now empty seat before sitting back down again. There was something about that stare; a hidden fear.
He needed to know what it was. Whatever force compelled him to make his way to her direction pulled at his shoes and drove him to her seat where they locked eyes. Her mouth muttering in annoyance at the fact that there were now two pretty men screwing up her mission and not leaving her alone.
"Is-is he bothering you?" Tangerine managed to get out an entire sentence to his surprise with pertinence to the situation. He had thought all he was capable of would be a hello or a simple nod. He surprised himself quite a bit today.
Your eyes widened in sudden admiration for the man in the blue suit. "Oh yes. Please tell him to go away." You said, hoping that this British man would be your savior against Mr. Bucket Hat who was trying so hard to insist that his name was Ladybug.
Ladybug followed your eyes to Tangerine and he smiled. "I can appreciate a fine ass man when I see one." He said, leaning back against the seat and making himself more and more comfortable as the train rolled off into the distance.
"You-you-" Tangerine started but whatever confidence he had upon starting this conversation left him entirely as he tried to tell off this "Ladybug" guy. Embarrassed, he quickly composed himself and looked at the man. "I would leave this woman alone if I were you. It's not polite."
Tangerine then went further towards the front of the compartment with his hands back in his pockets as he twiddled his thumbs and thought over the encounter while he was with Lemon.
"Something happen?" He asked, concerned as to why his usually stoic brother had taken a turn down Anxiety Lane. With his eyes wide and jaw clenched Tangerine looked as though he had an encounter with a ghost shortly before sitting down with Lemon to have this conversation.
“I think-” He began, before he looked back over at the person a couple seats ahead of him. She was still sitting by the doofus with the hat but seemed to be quite interested in whatever the man had to say all of a sudden. Almost as soon as he was distracted by her once more, he noticed something off about his brother which sent him into a bit of a British frenzy.
“What the fuck are you doing!? Trying to show off your blood-stained shirt to everyone in Tokyo?” Tangerine whisper shouted and motioned towards his brother’s coat which was propped open, blood from last night’s events in Soho dried onto his white button-down.
“Well, yeah. I want people to see my new tie.”
...
The gun that was stashed away by your side begged you to grab it and threaten Ladybug to leave you alone. He was really starting to get on your nerves (attractive as he may be) and you had hoped that British guy would’ve come to your rescue only for him to fail at that. Today was not a good day for keeping your hopes up, that’s for sure.
“Hey, what kind of name is Mantis anyways?” The man before you questioned upon noticing the inscription of a name on your luggage overhead. He looked smug, in a way, as if he knew you were being glued to the spot due to your hidden weapon.
“What kind of name is Ladybug?” You asked in retort, trying to get under this guy’s skin like he was getting under yours.
“It’s a codename. Ever heard of those before, Miss Pretentious?”
You stopped your bickering and looked at him- really looked at him. The glasses, the hat, the bleached hair that looked like it was horribly done over the kitchen sink. It was a disguise. And a horrible one at that.
You leaned over the table and he followed suit, the two of you being so close you could feel each other’s breaths over the cheap train seating. You switched from your usually calm attitude to a more serious and intentional tone as you wanted to figure out just what exactly this Ladybug wanted with you. It wasn’t to pointlessly flirt with you, no. It was to feel you out.
“First day on the job, newbie?” You asked, now finally understanding what he was truly doing here. And by the sound of the codename, it was assigned to him, not something he chose for himself.
“Oh so you’re an agent too?” he said, pulling out a Fiji water bottle and removing the cap with a knowing smile, “figures the sexy lady might be an enemy of mine.”
Your hand clenched at your side as you realized the weight of your words, becoming even more irritated than you already were. What did this guy want? What business did he have being on this train or Japan in general? Was he after the case too?
“I can see the little gears spinning in your mind,” he said, taking a drink from his water bottle and placing it down on the table, “It’s alright, I won’t say anything to anyone else.”
“Who do you think you are?” You asked, now fully invested with what the man was saying but also pissed off that he had come over and somewhat blown your cover within minutes of you being on the train.
“I’ve tried to tell you already. The name’s Ladybug. I’m filling in for Carver.”
“Why would you tell me that? You do realize that being undercover means that you’re undercover?”
Ladybug played with the cap of his water bottle and flicked it off the top so it flew towards your seat. He was all kinds of childish, this guy.
“Between us is a wall,” he began, checking his watch to see the time as he continued to explain his reasoning, “and within every wall is a window. Er, shit- I mean a door..”
...
Tangerine felt himself focus back to the mission at hand. He quickly scolded himself for being tired enough for his mind to drift in every direction other than the right one, letting himself become distracted by a girl nonetheless. He straightened out his tie and placed his hands on the table, his hair slicked back and the watch on his wrist gave others the illusion of his put-togetherness. Inside, however, he was an absolute mess as he ran over every intrusive thought stationed in his brain. The White Death, his son, the case. It was all a lot for one individual to ponder.
He did have his brother by his side though, and that made things more worthwhile. Lemon always made the job easier as he was someone Tangerine could truly confide in. The two had definitely seen the weight of the world and surrounded themselves with the death that came with work. It meant something to be able to come home to someone who at least knew of the things he had to deal with and could sympathize with his negativity.
Those were the moments he loved his brother. When he was rambling on about Thomas the Tank Engine, though, he did not.
“Gordon. Gordon is the strongest and the bravest of the group. Like Tangerine, for example.” Lemon huffed out with a dopey smile and placed the train sticker onto the deadliest man alive’s son’s forehead. The Russian boy did not look pleased with Lemon’s antics as he shrugged off the situation entirely and removed the sticker, placing it onto the sleeve of Lemon’s coat.
“Tangerine? Like the fruit?” The boy said, glancing at the two men whom he woke up to next. His face was covered with those kitchy do-it-yourself tattoos which read various phrases, most of which were just “fuck you” in different languages. His hair was disheveled and curly to the point where it looked too unkempt to possibly be on one’s head. To be fair though, he hadn’t showered for at least three days before Tangerine and his brother had to force him on this train back to his unloving father.
“Like the blessings.” Lemon rolled his eyes as they had been asked that question one too many times that day.
“I’m supposed to put my trust into people named after fruits?”
“They’re codenames. A delinquent like you should know a thing or two about that. And no, you shouldn’t put your trust into us since we’re taking you back to your father.” Tangerine said, matter-of-fact. This trust fund baby needed a kick in the balls.
This made the delinquent get immediately frustrated as he realized where he was now. He had worked diligently to remove himself from familial affairs and now he had a one-way ticket back to the man he hated the most. He tried to get up from his seat, but Lemon was quick to draw the gun from his coat pocket, revealing the blood spatters from before. Hesitantly, the White Death’s son sat back down and placed his hands on the table in a manner similar to Tangerine.
“Good, good. That’s how I figured this conversation would be going.” Lemon sighed and turned to his brother who wore a matching expression of exhaustion.
“Now, we’re going to deliver you to your father and bring him that briefcase. Then, your rich little family will pay us as we deserve,” Tangerine began, unfolding his hands and using them to gesture what he was saying, “and because your father hired the best assassins in the world, we’ll be able to keep our arms.”
“Indeed, we will.” Lemon said, grinning ever so slightly at how uncomfortable the atmosphere around their victim was getting. He definitely enjoyed the interrogation portions of his job.
Suddenly, the tattooed boy grinned even more maliciously than Lemon as he leaned over the table to enunciate his next sentence, “What makes you think my father will let you keep your arms?”
Tangerine spoke next, “Because he knows of our skill. He hired us for a reason, dipshit,” his British accent poked through his words, “And if either of us is to lose our limbs, it’ll be Lemon, not me.”
“Why do I have to lose my arms? You know how much I like them.” Lemon whined.
“Because I need mine.”
“Who’s to say I don’t need mine?”
Tangerine sighed once more and turned to his brother who looked so innocent holding a gun.
“Because I get more kills than you do.” So what if it was a petty argument? Tangerine was quite tired of hearing Thomas the Tank Engine references and if this would shut his brother up, then so be it. However, Lemon retaliated.
“What about the job in Bolivia?”
“What about it?”
“Well, you know. We work best together. Our seventeen kills just trying to get this guy on a train with us.” Lemon raised the gun up a little higher to spark some sort of fierceness within the boy sitting next to him. The Russian seemed to have stopped listening in on the conversation and was more intently focused on what was happening directly outside of the train window.
“Sixteen. Sixteen kills.” Tangerine corrected, blinking his eyes in fake astonishment towards Lemon’s false counting.
“Seventeen, actually.”
This was going to be a long ride to Morioka.
...
The train accelerated even faster as it traveled throughout the entirety of Tokyo, wind whipping around the sides of the steel structure and piercing through the wind. It was going so fast that even the windows were hard to see out of; occasionally one would see a building here and there but everything else was hard to make out.
Tapping her nails against her book which read “The Communist Manifesto,” Prince waited for the man she had stunned to wake up and allow her to talk of her plans. Her outfit worked in the way that she had hoped it would, as she was trying to come off as an innocent schoolgirl. It was such a ridiculous concept in the secret agent world for her to not be taken seriously considering the fact that she was born a woman. Well, how she would change that perception when she finally got her way.
Gasping for air upon awakening, the man whom had searched the train with a gun to kill Prince (and had bumped into Ladybug moments before boarding) took immediate notice of his surroundings, looking for his attacker. Upon seeing the young girl dressed in bright pink, he frowned and the lines around his eyes followed suit, wrinkles on his face despite only being thirty-seven. Prince was supposed to be a man he had presumed, as his son Wataru had been pushed off of a building in spite of his involvement with The White Death.
“Who are you?” Yuichi, the man, spat out in the best English he could muster. His confident and mysterious demeanor left him once he realized that the woman was holding a gun under her table, directly pointed at him with the intent of firing if he misbehaved. Yuichi took the best course of action and decided to shrink away into his chair with the red upholstery, trying his best to be swallowed whole by the velvety fabric.
“I,” the girl began, looking down at her finger which was placed on the trigger, “am The Prince.”
Yuichi glared at her and thought back to his son who was currently in the hands of the hospital that took him in after the fall. His mind ran through images of Wataru, small and frail in the confines of the bed, hooked up to miscellaneous machines and tubes.
“And you, Yuichi, are going to help me.”
“How do you figure?” He said, knowing that she had the high ground due to the weapon she had stolen from him moments after striking him with a taser.
She took the gun and wrapped a pink hairtie around the handle; the beads on it were shining as the lights beamed down overhead. Prince then placed it on the table with the body of the gun facing Yuichi himself. She glanced to the binding around his wrists, and reached over to free him before resuming her position in her chair, just about to reach for the gun when-
-Yuichi made a leap for it and grabbed it, facing it towards The Prince who was now smiling.
“I wonder how my hitman is doing, watching over your son. Let’s call him, shall we?”
...
A/N: Thank you so much for reading the first installment of my Bullet Train series! I want this to be fast-paced and scattered like the movie, and I tried my best to make all of the plotlines match up while also including another character. I think this is the first fanfiction I’ve written where I’ve taken out a notebook and pen to make this go as smoothly without issues as possible. I hope to see more Tangerine and Ladybug fanfics as I am in love with this movie. Enjoy!
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More Posts from Hobisfavoritespritecan and Others
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Just the Three of Us
Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson
Fandom: Stranger Things
AU: Soulmate
Summary: After crashlanding in the mystical magical world of the 1980s, you discover that you have not one, but two soulmates and they are determined to take the best care of you they possibly can.
Note: Takes place sometime after Season 4 I guess?? Everyone lives and is happy (even though we don’t have those answers yet lmao). Also, yes another Soulmate AU. So sorry, but I am trash. Consider this my apology for discontinuing Stranded lol.
Warnings: poly fluff, swearing
Word Count: 3.2k
Reader Is: Female
Holy fuck, did your head hurt. Your ears were ringing really loudly and everything was black. Add to the list your limbs felt like they were full of sand and you were not having a good time. After a long moment, the ringing began to subside enough to make out some (unfamiliar) voices, who seemed to be bickering above you somewhere.
“She needs to go to a hospital. Like, now.” One of the voices argued. “Look at her.”
“And tell them what, Steve, that she fell from the sky?” Another voice, this one younger, replied.
“I don’t know, man, I think Harrington’s right. She doesn’t look so good.” A third voice, this one a bit deeper than either of the others, said. “Add to that the fact that she fell from the fucking sky.”
You tried your best to lift your eyelids, but everything was so heavy. Too heavy to move.
Keep reading
Cute things that you and Johnny do
Pairing: Johnny x Reader
Warnings: Overly affectionate Johnny 😩
This man loves you with all his heart
And he finds every way possible to show you
Buys you flowers when you've had a long day at work
Gives you back massages when you're tired
Offers you his clothes when you're lonely
And buys you strawberries when you get hungry
But y'all always do really cute things to tell each other how happy you are
You sleep snuggled into his side, your face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around you
And if you don't, he had a hard time sleeping; if he sleeps at all
You have a habit of playing with his fingers when you snuggle
And holding his hand when you walk together
Kissing each other's foreheads
Snuggling ALL THE TIME
Johnny is a snuggler
So he always finds a way to hold you, whether you're out, if you're at home, if you're asleep, you name it
He's very comfortable with PDA
In fact, he gets confused when sometimes you're shy about your relationship around other people
You tell him it's just because you haven't been in a relationship for a while
He understands, and you eventually get used to Johnny's means of affection
Talking walks through forests under trees and watching the water
It's always like something out of a fairytale
And he manages to pack a lunch for the two of you; apple and ranch sandwiches
You wipe off the extra ranch that dripped on his chin
He gets slightly embarrassed, he's used to doting on you, not so much the other way around
When it's time for bed,he wraps you up in your shared giant duvet
And he carries you to the bedroom zoo wee mama
And he puts on your TXT sleep playlist to help you drift off peacefully
💛💛💛💛💛💛💛
watching him graduate<3
“edward munson.”
you and dustin were the only people who truly knew how important this moment was for eddie. you squeezed the henderson boy’s hand, and he squeezed yours, eyes matching as they prickled with tears.
you seen his goofy smile stick out amongst the crowd, his curly hair bouncing as he strutted like a rockstar across the stage, cap, gown and all. he had talked about it for so long, like it was a dream that would never come true. he’d even talked about it when he was dying, bleeding out in the upside down.
those images flashed in your mind, and you knew they were in the boy next to you. of course, you’d always wanted this moment to become a reality for him, but as you sat there, eyes blurry and mind replaying images of sorrow, you’d never been so proud of him.
OH MY GOD. THIS IS SO CUTE, I'M CRYING 😭😭
txt’s reaction to you being asked out ⋆˚｡⋆↯˚
requested <3
PAIRING ! txt x f!reader
WC ! 4k
GENRE ! fluff, crack
WARNINGS ! jealousy, slight insecurities, strangers asking u out
a/n: the readmore cut actually worked for once a tear rolled down my leg . ty for the req nonie hope u enjoy !
// CHOI SOOBIN !
DISPLEASED. EXTREMELY DISPLEASED AND ON HIGH ALERT !!
soobs doesn’t find himself getting jealous often
he trusts you more than anyone in the world and basks in the knowledge that you’re just as whipped for him as he is for you,,,
something super big would have to happen for him to genuinely get upset
and so when he does..
oh boy
good luck dealing with a clingy sulky baby :(
everything was going SO well today too
soobin was very proud of himself for organising the beach date you were visibly enjoying to the fullest <3
you’d spent all day making a giant sandcastle, playing around in the water, having an intense game of volleyball that soobin complEtely dominated and it’s not because he’s good. he’s just ridiculously tall and barely needed to jump
and of course !! getting ice cream !!! the highlight of a very hot day
you were both still dripping saltwater, but soobin put on a t-shirt over his swim trunks while you decided to stay in your bathing suit due to the fear of getting your clothes soaked too
while you waited in line for the ice cream truck, your boyfriend was busy trying to fix his hair when you feel someone poke your shoulder
of course you turn around to investigate,,
just to see some random guy around your age holding his phone opened to a new contact, a confident smile on his face as he continuously glances you up and down
bro wasn’t even trying to be subtle with the staring >:[
“hey, so i was just wondering if i could get your number, i think you’re gorgeous.”
THE SPEED IN WHICH SOOBIN TURNED AROUND
he doesn’t even say anything, just completely awestruck that this asshat couldn’t see him right there?!?
yeah, okay maybe u could pass as friends since he wasn’t much for pda, but too bad!!
he should’ve known and now soobin has the biggest pout on his face as he stares daggers at the man, waiting for you to deal with the situation yourself unless the time comes for him to step in
you just blink in surprise, “oh, me? thanks, but i’m here with my boyfriend.”
finally, he follows your finger to meet soobin’s eyes, gulping at the way he has his arms crossed and face sporting a please-dont-actually-try-to-fight-me-but-i-hate-you glare
personally you think he looks like a cute angry fluffball
but clearly the guy is slightly intimidated — perhaps by his height and built biceps — judging by how frantically he shoves his phone back in his pocket
“oh, my bad. sorry bro,” he apologizes, jogging off before he could embarrass himself further
as soon as he’s far enough, soobin starts murmuring under his breath, wrapping a big arm around your shoulder
sulky soob activated T-T
expect him to be extra clingy and show lots of affection in public for the rest of the day regardless if he’s feeling better or not about the situation
which is SO not like him
the grip he has on your waist even makes yOu nervous
“m’ not your bro. who does he think he is? seriously. looking at you like a piece of meat, i’ll- i’ll punch him!”
you snicker knowing damn well your boyfriend wouldn’t even hurt a fly
amused, you watch as he begins tapping his foot, clearly thinking way too deep into the situation, “couldn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend first! do i not look boyfriend-y enough?” his heart shaped lips form a frown, showing off his dimples unintentionally
“love, you’re the most boyfriend-y guy here, okay? did you forget how that guy nearly shit his pants when he saw you?”
a childish grin sports soobin’s cheeks at that, pride flowing through him and making you chuckle in return
“now c’mon big baby, what flavor are you getting?”
yeah you’ve made him feel a bit better about it
but don’t expect him to be anything but attached to your hip all day <\3
even when you go to the washroom he’s standing outside the door like a guard dog
constantly on the lookout as if that guy is plotting to randomly show up and steal you away !! he has to be sure :( !!
when you tease him though,, he of course gets all defensive
“ay, you wouldn’t be laughing if it was some girl trying to ask me out! you don’t understand.”
when you tell him that he’s right and that you’d be pissed too, he feels a bit better n’ goes back to having only a sliGht pout
but pssst secret
some cuddles and kisses when you get back home should fix him right up <3 !!
// CHOI YEONJUN !
the most atrocious yet blank stare imaginable
he wouldn’t even process what’d happened for a few seconds like
huh 🧌 that’s. that’s my girlfriend what do u mean. doesn’t everybody know she’s mine what no how could this happen plea
at the same time junie isn’t really a fan of confrontation and y’know
calling someone out
but in this situation IF he isn’t busy being the real life version of the standing man emoji HE WILL SPEAK UP !!
when something like this actually happened, it was originally a very chill day for you and jun <3
he invited you to come grocery shopping with him for the dorm
and man oh man he looks so boyfriend with that plain white tee and half his hair in a lil’ ponytail T-T
you tried not to ogle him the whole time
but clearly you weren’t doing well considering he already caught you staring twice …
“yah, cutie,” yeonjun barks with a teasing look on his face, “stop drooling and go get soobin’s bread. i’ll be in the ramen aisle.”
you roll your eyes but listen anyway, making your way two aisles over to find the bread section containing a man who’s carefully glancing at his phone, then back at the display with a lost expression
as you get closer you quickly realise he’s having trouble finding the bread on his list, so of course you decide to help him out like a good citizen
“is this the one you need?”
the man whips his head up at your voice, a grateful smile on his face as he nods and acceps the loaf carefully
“yeah, thanks. you’d think being so tall i could find things easily but..” shyly, he looks away, ruffling his bangs habitually
you chuckle while grabbing a loaf of soobin’s favorite bread, feeling the guy watch closely from beside you
“i uh, actually recently moved here and i was thinking,” he swallows, “would you want to help me find a good place to eat? on me, of course.”
you blink
was he asking you as a friendly gesture of thanks or as a date
you honestly couldn’t tell
“well i’ll have to ask my boyfriend, he’d probably wanna know the details and stuff. or maybe he could come with us?”
“oh, that isn’t really—“
just as he opens his mouth to reply, a familiar pale arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into a sturdy chest
“hey princess,” yeonjun aggressively pecks the top of your head, a gesture that has your stomach swooning, “who’s this?”
obliviously, you smile, “oh, we just met here and he was going to take me to—“
since you were in front of him, you didn’t get to see yeonjun’s cold stare that caused the man to quickly put his free hand up in surrender
“oh, no no, nevermind that! sorry— uh, thank you again.” he barely even finished his sentence before turning around and storming off, ears bright red
you begin to question why he was suddenly rushing, but you’re snapped out of it by none other than your boyfriend swivelling you around to face him
yeonjun just stares at you for a moment
looking carefully at your features before cupping your face and leaning down for a kiss
his lips were always so plush n’ soft and you desperately wanted to keep feeling them but
it couldn’t be too long as you were still in a grocery store after all
but even once you pull away yeonjun grabs your hand tightly
“i leave for five minutes and other guys are already hovering around you like flies,” he complains, duck lips turning down cutely
“now you know what it’s like,” you snort, rubbing his knuckles with your fingers laced through his. “you know i’m only yours, ignore them.”
he looks down at you, a fond yet playful gaze in his pretty eyes
“oh really? what are you? i think i forgot, say it again~”
“yours, dumbass,” you can’t help but smile at his antics ^^
“that’s right, mine. mine. all mine.” with each word, yeonjun gives your head another loving smooch <3
// CHOI BEOMGYU !
now this one ..
hate to break it to you but gyu may start laughing and mocking the guy as soon as he’s gone
he finds you rejecting other men hilarious, especially watching the way their face falls in defeat :)
butttt sometimes he gets a little irked out,, especially when the guy has pretty much anything better than him whether it be height or just neater hair
n’ even though you reject those kinds of guys just as quickly as any other, his insecurities tend to eat away at him
so make sure to reassure your boy !!
you and beomgyu decided to bus downtown for a day at the cat cafe that recently opened
things were going better than expected considering going on a weekday apparently meant not many other customers would be around ^^
plus the amount of lockscreen-worthy photos you got of gyu with kittens was astronomical HOW WERE YOU GONNA CHOOSE!!
out of the corner of your eye though, you couldn’t help but fidget at the feeling of the employee staring daggers at you
and at first you worried you were doing something wrong, but all you’ve been doing thus far is play with a grey kitten, laugh at gyu, and take a million pictures
“this one really likes me. i think we should take him home,” beomgyu declares, holding up a small white kitten to demonstrate
but when you don’t reply, he sends you a concerned gaze, “you okay?”
“yeah.. just, that guy won’t stop staring at me.”
when he looks to see who you were talking about, a frown pulls onto beomgyu’s lips
the man was even taller than him and had soft, neatly parted black bangs that somehow rested perfectly by his eyes
don’t even get him started on the uniform he attired being pulled up a bit to reveal tight muscles against his arms, what’s a guy like that doing working at a cat cafe of all places?
beomgyu turns to you, placing the white kitten back onto the floor, “want me to go tell him to stop? i can be very intimidating~”
you watch as he wiggles his eyebrows and snort, “it’s fine. i wanna go ask him about this grey kitten anyway, she’s cute.”
immediately, gyu stands up along with you, “well i’m coming too.”
what? he didn’t want that guy talking to you one on one >:[
as you make your way over to where the employee stands behind a counter, a smile quickly rises to his face when he catches you approaching
“hey there, can i help you with anything? would you like a drink?”
the whole time he never takes his eyes off of you, and beomgyu crosses his arms at the realisation that this man was totally ignoring him! the audacity!!
so of course he opens his mouth, “yeah, actually. i’ll get a latte, please.”
finally, the man turns to him, and his expression falters for a second before he nods and gets to work
you give beomgyu a strange look that he ignores
“you don’t even like lattes,” you murmur with furrowed brows
he simply nods to the kitten in your arms, a defensive glare on his face, “yah, don’t forget what we came here for.”
just in time, the man turns back to you while finishing up the latte and sliding it over to your boyfriend, who emits a barely audible ‘thanks’
a smile quickly returns to his face as he takes you in, along with the kitten you’re holding, “anything for you, pretty girl?”
what
what’d he call you
beomgyu’s jaw DROPS touches the ground even
that is HIS nickname for you!!!
he immediately frowns, a competitive gleam in his eyes as he reaches down to pat your head
“she is pretty, isn’t she?”
apparently the guy didn’t get the hint as he quickly agrees with a cheery ‘of course’ 👎
you seem equally confused but you quickly cough and speak up, “i— uh, i was just wondering what breed this kitten was.”
with another cheesy smile that has beomgyu gagging, he replies, “that’s a british shorthair. we actually have a new litter of shorthairs arriving next week. if you decide to stop by i could give you a personal introduction.”
the man winks, sending another surge of fury through beomgyu, “along with a coffee on the house, of course.”
… it honestly wasn’t a bad deal
but judging by the way beomgyu grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the exit, you assumed it was a no
“sorry, thanks for the offer!” you barely make out before the cafe door slams closed
“along with a coffee on the house, of course,” beomgyu mocks the man’s deep voice, face scrunched up obnoxiously while you groan next to him
“don’t let him ruin our nice day baby, c’mon,” you reassure the boy, smoothing out his frustrated wrinkles with your thumb, “i’ve already forgotten what that loser looks like.”
beomgyu’s snickers, relief taking over his features as he stares down at the sidewalk
“mkay. you think i’m better looking, right?”
“he isn’t even competition next to you.”
he gets giddier by each word, slowly going back to his regular self whilst a small :> rises to his lips
“and you’re all mine, right?”
“yeah,” you bump his shoulder, smirking playfully, “and you’re mine?”
his smile grows, “obviously.”
gyu mostly stays positive like that through the remainder of the date, but later you may find him sitting and staring off into space, once again reminiscing on what could’ve made that guy think you weren’t taken, if he wasn’t good enough, etc
but don’t worry! as long as you’re ready to offer words of affirmation and big spooning, he’ll be back to you in no time ^^
// KANG TAEHYUN !
not a very big reaction
it’s terry we’re talking about !! our unfazed king
he knows you’re his, what’s there to worry about ^^
honestly he might even chuckle at whoever had the confidence to try and ask you out rigHt in front of him
he lets you deal with it yourself unless it escalates in any way,, in that case oh boy is he ready
mans can finally put those hard-earned muscles to use <3
anways so you and tyun were having a nice lil’ outing at a cafe for lunch
being seated by the window, you spent every few seconds pointing at random things outside like literal cats <3
at one point a squirrel ran by and you immediately pointed at it going ‘you’ THEN TYUN DID HIS CUTE GIGGLE
he was in one of his cute moods and you could swear his eyes held the whole world when he smiled at you like that :(
that kinda changed when the waiter came though,,
you were a bit oblivious, but taehyun quickly caught on to the way the young man’s gaze would linger on you each time he handed you something no matter it was your drink, a napkin, absolutely any reason he could use to stAre at you
and despite him not being a very confrontational person, he makes sure you’re fully aware of what he sees
“ that guy totally wants you,” he comments as if it was something as simple as the weather 💀
meanwhile you nearly choke on your drink, “that— what? who?”
“waiter guy.”
“and at first you smile, “aww, you jealous?”
but of course ,, big mistake
“of what? you’re in love with me, aren’t you?” HE’S SO GRHRRGFH
you do that classic pouty pout and taehyun secretly wishes the table wasn’t there so he could lean over and kiss it away because aWww <3
bUt after that incident things were running smoothly, and since the waiter hadn’t returned for a while, taehyun figured it’d be a good time to run to the bathroom
well
apparently he couldn’t get a moment of peace because as soon as he waddled back to where you were seated, waiter guy had his elbow on the table, writing something on a sticky note while murmuring something that taehyun could only catch a few words from
“—can always call me if he messes up, i’ll be waiting.”
OOOHH yeah no he’s shaking in fury on the inside but stays cool on the outside
the sound of your sweet voice telling the man you weren’t interested and that something like that would never happen manages to cool him down a bit, but tyun still makes sure to bump the man’s shoulder extra hard while pacing back to his seat
“what’d i miss?” your boyfriend’s voice is so calm as usual,, but also somehow scary and cold n’ even yOu get nervous!!
“i- uh, enjoy your meal.”
taehyun SCOFFS as the man wobbles away with his tail tucked between his legs, “how pathetic,” he frowns
ouch…
you reach over to his knuckles which instantly softens up his tense muscles, watching as he sighs
“see, you’re just too gorgeous. it gets bothersome,” as usual, his voice is calm, but this time laced with a hint of dramatic playfulness, making you giggle shyly
you’ve gotten better and better at reading and understanding your boyfriend’s speech habits and tones, which is something not many could successfully do ^^
that’s pretty much it though
he might bring it up another time as almost a little inside joke between you guys, but he prefers to say that the guy was too irrelevant to bring any more attention to !!
but also
on the bill..
taehyun reattached that sticky note he tried to hand you and wrote something on it
unfortunately he folded it so you never got to see, but judging by the nervous stutters the waiter let out while handing him the receipt, you guessed it wasn’t too polite
your mind is taken off that real quick though when his larger hand is cupping yours :D
“c’mon princess,” with the gentlest forehead kiss ever, “we won’t be back here, that’s for sure.”
// HUENING KAI !
does that thing where his head just frantically shakes between u two like O-0
nervous chuckles awkward foot movements
starts inwardly panicking like fUck what should a boyfriend do in this situation SHOULD I BE PUNCHING THAT GUY
because lowkey
he doesn’t care that much,,
he trusts you fully n’ knows that guy is getting rejected
by the end of the whole fiasco he may end up having a nice conversation with the stranger as if they’re besties
they’ll be discussing how awful the weather’s been in the past week while you just stand there utterly gobsmacked
..he’s hyuka what’d you expect
however
do note that your boy may become unusually clingy after it’s all over
and if you question him he may or may not gaslight you into thinking everything’s normal out of embarrassment <3
anyways SEGWAY GOES HERE (coughs. so smooth)
being the rock-paper-scissor loser that you were
your co-workers left you alone to close up the local convenience store for the night (boooo tomato tomato)
closing was in a mere five minutes, and you were more than ready to book it out the door n’ spend your remaining waking hours watching anime with kai
AND all his plushies of course ^^
besides that NOBODY else was invited
not even soobin despite how he usually loves watching anime with you guys :(
kai insisted it was his very much needed alone time with you
so when the bell above the door jingles, a smile already makes it’s way to your face, expecting to see your boyfriend there and ready to drive you home
well.. not exactly
a man that looks around your age runs in, quickly sprinting over to the grocery section
and you’re just like well. shit.
if this is a robbery you’re fully prepared to sacrifice everything in the store
what’d they expect paying you minimum wage ??
but before you even raise your hands in surrender, the man has already made his way to the cashier, panting and huffing as he drops his basket onto the counter
“sorry, i know you close in a few minutes but if you could ring me up it’d be really, really great.”
you blink
“oh. yeah, sure. sorry, i thought you were a thief this whole time.”
watching you scan his items, the man giggles, “my bad. it’s.. a long story.”
“clearly, if you’re buying energy drinks at this time of night.”
again, he chuckles, leaning his palms on the table. “hey, you’re quite cute,” just as he speaks up, the doorbell rings again, “could i get your number?”
meanwhile you lift your head to see kai, who is now awkwardly staring between you both with a nervous smile on his lips
facepalming inwardly, you clear your throat, “uh- sorry, my boyfriend is- um, right there.”
when the guy turns to face him, kai just coughs with a barely audible, ‘hi’
“shit, that’s embarrassing. my bad— again.” you almost feel pity as the man fumbles to put his card back in his wallet, grabbing his bag and speedwalking to the door
but right before he can leave, kai speaks up out of nowhere, “where- where’d you get your jacket?”
you give him an odd stare, matching the guy who backtracks in confusion, “uh, i dunno. why?”
“i think i have the same one, that brand is super underrated,” kai grins nervously, and honestly, you’re starting to feel like a proud mom watching her kid make their first friend at pre-school
after the stranger gasps and brings up how he’s never met anyone else who knows it, they ramble for another few minutes before he eventually checks his phone, apologizing and saying that he needs to leave
nOt without exchanging numbers with your boyfriend of course
when kai turns around to see you shaking your head in disbelief, he bursts into a fit of screechy dolphin laughter
“he came for your number and ended up with mine instead!”
you smack his shoulder, countering the endeared smile growing on your lips, “god, you’re insane. who the hell makes friends with a guy who asked their girlfriend out minutes prior?”
grabbing your bag for you, kai throws it over his shoulder and wiggles his brows, “your boyfriend does, cutie. i personally think i handled it great.”
“yeah, whatever. go watch demon slayer with him instead.”
he pinches your cheek, cooing mockingly, “aw, no need to be jealous! i only wanna watch with my pretty girl~”
he’s acting all cocky right now
but right as kai starts to gets sleepy, he begins mumbling on about how much he doesn’t like when others try to steal you from him, and that he’ll do anything to be the one staying by your side permanently ^^ <3
if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated + motivating for me to post more!
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💛🦐
A Valiant End
The armored man slumped down, resting his back against the stone slab, he took off his helmet and wiped sweat off his brow. “I just need some rest,” he sighed, his side stung with dreadful pain.
“It looks like you deserve it,” a man emerged from the treeline gesturing towards the bodies strewn about the area, “that was quite the battle.” The man was dressed in a well tailored black doublet, there were no fancy embroideries, but it was fine nonetheless.
“I tried my best,” the knight chuckled lightly, “they were tougher than I thought.” The knight was still sweating, it wasn’t hot today, he shouldn’t be sweating. The man in black approached the hunched over knight. His black hair was short and slicked back, he stroked his well trimmed goatee. “My name is Evander,” the knight said with a quiver in his voice, “and who might you be?”
“I go by many names,” the man in black said with a strange calm, “but you may call me Dáinn if it please you.”
“Odd name I must say my friend,” Evander said, “but who am I to judge.” Evander sat up and winced, that dreadful pain in his side grew. Dáinn stepped closer toward the exhausted knight, and for a second his image appeared to shift. Evander’s eyes widened as Dáinn briefly became a hooded thing in a large robe, he flickered back to the well kept man in black. I’m just seeing things, Evander thought, my brain playing tricks on me is all. Evander tried to rise, but the pain in his side caused him to cry out and slink back down. The knight looked down at his side and noticed the blotch of red growing under his chainmail. He placed his hand over that patch and held it there. “What are you doing out here friend,” Evander said shakily, “It’s not safe.”
“I am in no danger brave knight,” Dáinn said calmly, “you made sure of that.” The man in black was now standing next to Evander, he was tall, much taller than he had appeared. Dáinn let out a large sigh, Evander couldn’t tell what emotion the sigh carried, he was too focused on the wound he was grasping. “Does it hurt Evander,” Dáinn asked regretfully, “I am so sorry, I have no influence over the end.”
Evander looked up at the strange man, he was no longer the well kept man in black. Dáinn had become a tall man in a black hooded robe, in his hand was a large scythe, a tool made for reaping. Evander’s eyes widened as he grasped the severity of his situation, “You’re….”
“Yes, Evander.”
“So you mean I am…”
“Yes Evander,” the reaper said patiently. A chilling silence fell over the knight and the reaper, hours seemed to pass by.
“Well,” Evander said playfully, “I don’t suppose there is anything I can offer you to spare me?”
“No no,” the reaper said with a dry tone, “as I said before, I have no influence over the end. I simply come to observe and collect.”
“Well,” Evander chuckled, “I always japed how death and I were close friends.” Evander winced once again, a sly smile crawled across his face.
“Ay Evander,” the reaper smiled as warmly as death could, “I would say we are friends.”
“May I ask you something, reaper?”
“Of course Evander.”
“Did I lead a good life? Was I a good man?” Tears began to well in the wounded knight's eyes. He had reached his end, he might as well get some answers.
“That is not such an easy question my friend,” the reaper said introspectively, his image still flickering between the reaper and Dáinn.
“It depends on what you consider a good life. It depends on what you consider a good man,” the reaper paused and sighed, “I have been around for a very long time my friend. I have ferried many men, women, and sadly, children, across to the other side. I have seen great men rise and fall like the tide, and I have seen wicked men thrive and prosper. For many centuries, even I did not know how to measure the worth of one's life, but eventually I found a way that pleased me, and eased the minds of others.”
“And what was that, dear reaper,” Evander asked with great interest.
“Take you for example Evander,” the reaper said, “You have lived a long life, you have helped many people and changed many lives. If not for you, I wonder how many more souls I would have claimed this day” Evander thought about his wife, he thought about his children, a single tear rolled down his cheek as a smile spread across the knight's face.
“If not for you my friend,” the reaper said with a smile, “many would have died, and many would have suffered. You have achieved what many men desire, you lived a life of glory, and of joy. I am truly sad to have to collect you dear knight, it is not often that I feel this way. There are many that love you Evander, I hope that comes as some comfort.”
“Ay reaper,” Evander said through tears, “that is quite comforting.”
“I do not do this often Evander,” said the reaper, “but you have earned it. Is there anything you request? Any business you wish to resolve in the land of the living?”
Evander thought for a second, his mind wandered. What could he do with such a gift, he wondered. Not long after, Evander smiled, wiped a tear from his eye and had his answer.
“Could you please deliver my sword to my eldest son,” Evander said, “and please tell my wife how much I love her. Thank her……thank her for everything.”
“Absolutely brave knight. You have earned that much at least.”
Evanders tears had stopped, his smile was ear to ear. “My dear reaper,” he said bravely, “I do believe I am ready now.” Evander looked out at the sunset one last time. After he had gotten his fill, he closed his eyes and welcomed his fate. The reaper reached down and placed his hand gently on the knight's shoulder. The last thing he thought of was how remarkably warm the touch of death truly was.
𝕸𝖆𝖈𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖊
Pairing: Hannibal X Reader
⚠️ Warnings: mentions of weapons and murder, implications of sexuality, that's about it ⚠️
AN: Hey panko shrimps, it's been a while! I hope to make this account more active going into 2024 so I hope this Hannibal fic is a good ease back into writing! 💛🦐
Your feet tapped against the hardwood floor in anticipation. It had been a long time coming to actually go along with your doctor's referral to see a psychiatrist and here you were, against your initial wishes. There wasn't much to you that you didn't already know as you considered yourself to be quite introspective most of the time; yet here you were with your anxieties hopefully concealed to your best ability, and the faux smile plastered on your face to hide whatever was left over. An unsettling feeling was still in your stomach which you hoped would eventually subside.
The waiting room itself was nothing short of grand. The marble flooring and intricately carved stone walls gave the impression of perfection but hindered the possibility for any sunlight that could have potentially set you at ease. It was a cold sort of old money interior, not that you had been directly expecting anything else of the sort, just silently hoping for a more inviting atmosphere. Dressed to match the occasion (and the environment, it seems), you were wearing a knee length black skirt and a white button down top. Black tights and matching flats with your hair neatly in place made the rest of the outfit cohesive. You weren't looking to stand out, especially not to whomever your new psychiatrist was.
But oh, how fast that would change.
A few more agonizing minutes went by before the large door to your right opened up revealing a tall man seemingly in his forties with unkempt hair and jackets piled one on top of the other. Black framed glasses adorned his angular and unshaven face; almost as if they were strategically placed there to cover the large under eye bags he had. Your initial response was one of surprise and then somewhat of a let down. If a man who was supposed to aide others through their difficulties looked as if he had a million and one of them himself, what work was there he could provide?
Setting your initial judgements aside, you reach your hand out to shake his. "Y/N. You must be Doctor Lecter?" You asked in a small voice, smaller than you intended. There goes your original plan of coming across as dominant and straightforward. Guess you'll have to use another tactic to try and withhold the fact you were terrified for this meeting.
"Oh, ah no." He said, offering his hand to shake yours and then immediately after doing so, wiped his hand on his jacket. A rude gesture that didn't go unnoticed. "I'm Will Graham."
Another anxious twinge ran through your whole nervous system. Were you in the wrong room? The wrong place? The wrong building, perhaps? That's infinitely more embarrassing than anything else you could've mustered about this gathering.
Stepping slightly aside and placing his hands into his pockets, another taller figure emerged from the doorway from beside this supposed Will Graham. This man, unlike the other, immediately had you floored. Slicked back greying hair with a chiseled face that of a Danish statue paired oh so wonderfully with a black tux, pink button down and an expensive tie was the only thing that filled your vision. His eyes were piercing with a hint of some unfamiliar darkness, however, that calming sunlight you had hoped for seemed a silly request now. It was almost as if those two things, this man's eyes and the sun, could not exist within the same place as though his expression would diminish the light emitting from the solar system. You'd never found yourself so infatuated so quickly and the thought scared you but drew you in with a perplexed curiosity that you hadn't experienced yet before.
"Y/N," he smiled, reaching his hands out to hold the both of yours in a formal greeting, "I must be the man you're looking for."
You almost said yes, yes you are right there and then. His hands were cold but steady, artist's hands. You briefly remember being told of Doctor Lecter's past occupation with working in the surgical room.
"Doctor Lecter?" You asked, as if you needed to confirm. You smiled at him, forgetting your worries and your determined voice came back to you and you silently thanked Will for being the person your meekness was originally directed towards.
"Ah yes, that would be me. Please forgive me for going slightly past overtime, I was just finishing up my appointment with Mr. Graham here."
Cordial and charming. What a dangerous mixture of the two adjectives.
"I'll be out now," Will said, looking down at his phone with a poignant expression, "Jack will be wondering my whereabouts anyways."
"Then you must go," the doctor said, never taking his eyes off of you once, "wouldn't want him to worry."
You watched as Will nodded and placed his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and made his way to the polished staircase leading to the exit. His disappearance almost didn't entirely register to you at all as you looked down and noticed your hands were still intertwined with the doctor's. As if he just noticed it as well, he offered up an awkward chuckle as he gently removed his hands from yours, not wiping them on his shirt as his counterpart had.
"Shall you come in?" He asked, placing the large of his back against the doorway with an invitation in the form of an outstretched hand towards the room he'd just come out of, making room for you to walk through.
"Oh uh yeah." You remembered your reasoning for being there in the first place as your senses came back to you. Let's get this over with.
• • • 💉 💉 💉 • • •
Inside, the office was massive, the marble flooring continuing into the carpeted room. A large desk loomed towards the front of the room with a decorative Turkish lamp placed atop along with various writing utensils and a laptop. A couple of chaise lounges took up residency by the furthest area of the study and were closest to the largest curtained windows you've ever seen in your life. A small table with large papers littering the top of it wasn't too far off from the designated seating arrangement and to top off the grandeur of the room itself, was a second half-story with walls lined with books.
It was as if you had stepped into some sort of museum with the way everything was spotless. Everything was clean and if it wasn't organized, it was a neat type of disorderly. What stood out to you the most was this small table of disorder with all the papers haphazardly sticking off the ends and so you went to investigate as the doctor stood a few feet behind you, watching your every move. With the slight sway of your hips and the way your hair fell, he would be amiss to not focus himself on you. It was not like him to feel this strongly, whatever this feeling was, about anyone upon first introduction yet here you were. A presence so familiar yet so foreign to him as he became mentally aroused by the thought of something that wasn't murder. Something that could captivate his interest and lure him in. Perhaps it was a good thing he'd gotten the patient referral.
Your outfit was inviting, yet not too revealing. It left him with an appetite for more yet an appreciation for the craft. The way you held yourself was one of someone who has been guarded her whole life, but has done the emotional work of opening up once more, although with caution. The slight dirt on your soles gave him enough information to know that you cared about your appearance, but not to the point where you were vain or someone who required a lot to make them happy. You were gorgeous, of course that was a given, but you came with the inner workings of a traumatic past- one that made you feel as though taking up space was a crime in itself. He was determined to rewire that thinking of yours, not just as a psychologist but as someone who could see the beauty in you.
Unbeknownst to his observation, you slid your hand carefully over the papers to see they had been drawn on in graphite. Beautiful images of anatomy danced over them in an alluring yet subtly worrisome way. The figures were beautiful, yes, but the compromised positions they were in and the sharp weapons that stuck out of their flesh had your heart skip a beat.
As if he could hear what was going through your mind, the doctor spoke up to alleviate any worries you might have. "The macabre. There is art in death and I hope to shed light on that through my drawings." He said, calm and sultry.
You heard his shoes against the floor as he made his way over to you. His cologne was sharp but not unpleasant as the scent filled your lungs, his arm just brushing yours as he looked down at his own works as if critiquing them in his mind although he was only really looking to see what your reaction would be. Would you flinch away from him after seeing these? Would you be drawn in, curious or would another wave of nervousness hit like what you had felt in the waiting room?
Instead, you look up at him, the two of you very close now. "They're lovely, I think your attention to detail is phenomenally done."
A wave of heat went down his spine. Why did it fill him with such satisfaction to hear a compliment of his work (which he knew was quite good) escape your lips? He dismissed it almost as quickly as it arose, however. He must keep things professional and he wasn't fond of the way his entire demeanor seems to have gone awry upon your arrival. It was so hard to be collected in your presence. How is that so?
Returning to his original formalities, he gestures for you to take a seat on one of the lounges, away from any implication of the monster he truly was on the inside, although his stoicism concealed it well.
You complied, respectfully making sure your skirt was correctly placed before sitting down on one of the velveteen sofas, trying your best to make yourself comfortable. Any forwardness you may have regained upon walking into the study has now left you alone, struggling to regain your composure. You tried your best to go down the list of everything making you anxious so as to tackle each problem in an efficient and healthy way, as you had been told to do from previous visits to therapists in the past.
1.) You're in a new setting.
This is something that a lot of people struggle with, you told yourself, trying to put yourself at ease and to not blame yourself too much. It'll become a familiar setting with the more meetings you have with the doctor.
2.) You're nervous about keeping up appearances.
Well, you had just met the guy and you haven't embarrassed yourself all too badly yet. You had mistaken his patient Will for him, but that was an honest assumption. You doubt he would've thought anything too much of it as it didn't seem entirely unusual.
3.) There is a very, very attractive man sitting across from you right now.
This was the one thing you weren't sure you could talk yourself down from. From the way he positioned his legs comfortably one over the other with his head rested against his palm in the armchair to the notebook he had in his lap, he was the literal definition of temptation. It was as if the devil himself were trying to get you to bite the apple and consume yourself with desire. This random invigorating feeling of lust springing up on you out of nowhere was so out of the ordinary for you. There was an undeniable tension between the two of you, yes, but this sudden satiation was seemingly preposterous.
You folded your hands in your lap and settled on looking at the floor rather than Doctor Lecter.
He cleared his throat and began to speak in that tone that drove you wild. "Would you perhaps like a drink?" He asked, innocently enough.
"Sure, as long as it wouldn't be an imposition." You say, finally mustering up the courage to look at him.
He smiled and arose from his chair to busy himself at the liquor cabinet you hadn't noticed upon first glance of the study. "Not at all, are you more of a wine or beer type of woman?"
He took off his blazer and laid it upon the backing of the chair closest to the large desk, revealing the pink button down from before. He opened the cabinet and poured himself a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon before turning to face you.
"I like wine, if you don't mind." You said, offering up another one of those faux faces of confidence. You felt yourself sit up straighter in your seat.
"I hope red is alright, I'm more of a red wine enthusiast myself. Pairs well with dishes." He states, before going to pour yours and offer you the glass, which you took tentatively.
"You're a chef?" You ask.
"Yes, it's a hobby of mine," He sits down in the chair again, placing the notebook in his lap once more before he asks, "Do you have any hobbies?"
He begins to write. The session has begun.
"I'm somewhat of an artist myself." You say, staring at the page as you see his hand create the unmistakable swirls of the cursive alphabet. Of course he writes in cursive.
"Mhm." He smiles to himself, reaching for another sip of the Cabernet. "Of what medium?"
"I prefer portrait work. With pencil, I mean." You notice a lipstick mark on the side of the glass you had just used, much to your dismay. You didn't want to make his dishes any dirtier than you already would be by drinking out of them. Lipstick could be difficult to remove.
He had also noticed this too, and had silently prayed for you not to remove it. Something in him told him he would be cherishing that glass after you had left it, reveling in the dark red makeup left behind by your lips. Even your stained imprint in his dishes had a divinity to it.
You set the glass down and continued the conversation. "I also enjoy reading, so you can imagine my surprise noticing your extensive library."
"You like my library? It took quite the time to build it, much less fill it with literature of my liking."
You allowed your eyes to move around the room and take in everything you may have missed on the second floor, seeing now the ladder that was placed against the side of the balcony. You would have a field day in here.
As if reading your mind again he adds, "You're welcome to it any time you'd like."
"I- thank you, that's very kind." You say, turning to face him once more. He seemed pleased you didn't immediately turn down the offer although he wasn't quite sure where the offer had come from himself.
"Not an issue at all." He states, looking directly into your eyes now. It's a gaze you don't feel as though you'll ever recover from. It's intense and cold but somehow so inviting in a way that's more peculiar than anything else. There's a darkness behind them, despite their bright blue nature. Everything around them fades to black and it's almost as if you're so deep into them that you've traveled to an alternate dimension entirely. You feel as though you're looking right through them, not into his soul, no. But to something much darker, much more insatiable.
Snapping back into reality, you notice how close the two of you have gotten to one another. He stands up, extending his arm out to you and then pulling you up with him, wine glasses and notebooks discarded along with the conversation you two never finished. Your eyes never left each other once as you were now face to face almost chest to chest, him towering over you.
"D-doctor I-"
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at you.
"Please, call me Hannibal."
All I Need
NIGEL BANYAI X READER ⚠️ Warnings: None ⚠️
You're wandering the streets of Bucharest at night when you come face-to-face with your "ex" husband, Nigel. There's a rekindling- even if only for a moment- where you realize he might be more intertwined in your life than you'd thought.
Disconcertment washes over your face like a flood when you see him walking forwards, in that haunting but familiar walk you'd grown used to. He was polished, as per usual, adorned with a dog printed button down and a cigarette lax between his teeth. The protruding fold of his shirt would be incomprehensible to passerby who didn't know of his hobbies, but to you, it was the imprint of a gun.
His eyes shifting up from the road he was walking down and meeting yours held you in a trance. There was something to be studied about the man's eyes; so full of agonizing self-inflicted sorrow that shone through the very core of his being and simmered into the rest of the world through his gaze. He was deeply saddened. But it was all under a mask of his he wore to wind through the mindless crowds so that there wasn't anything about his character to be discovered unless he'd wanted you to. His cheekbones shone under the streetlights with their summery glow making waves of blues and pinks and greens with the lights from overhead in the city. He was a Monet painting come to life, a landscape of colors washing away everyone else and drawing you inwards to where he stood, finally stopping amidst a puddle from rain fallen this morning. He was beautiful. But he was also dangerous.
You had finally stopped running from him long ago. That sadness he contained within himself had become ever so apparent throughout your relationship and spilled over into everything else. He tormented himself so deeply that it was only a matter of time before he tormented you.
Never with his touch, no. His touch had always been careful, predetermined. He would never have laid a hand on you that wasn't accepting or invited by the warmth in your features and your verbal acknowledgement. Even after long arguments where you'd fallen asleep on your side of the bed, turned away from him, he would caress you only with his mind.
Instead, his torment was his love. There was too much of it, too little of a mutual understanding of what was wrong and what was right. He had been too suffocating in his eternal vows to protect you and love you. And with this time period in your life- this new one you'd created for yourself- you couldn't suppress your desires of freedom. You'd allowed him to love you and whisk you away with his promises (which he'd kept, of course), but you'd never been able to experience the world, let alone the streets of Bucharest in the way you'd always wanted to- on your own.
But you had loved him. There was no denying that.
And despite all your efforts to push him away; to ask him to take his love and give it to someone more deserving, someone who'd understand his suffocating requests of social isolation and relationship devotion, he was always finding his way back to you. His heart seemed to have a mind of its own which never coincided with the work he performed or the crimes he'd commit.
And here you were, by the famous Hostel off the side streets of tourist-populated areas, staring at one another. Both of you with the impression that the other was a work of art, staring into one another's souls as if they had painted the landscapes themselves. You heard the faint chatter of those nearby; the drunks walking back home from a night out, stumbling over their feet and laughing with their partners holding them up. The children who'd been playing hopscotch despite their parent's wishes at this hour in the night. The sound of the rain from earlier dripping off the rooftops and onto the parked cars below. And through all the commotion, it was just Nigel and you.
He offered something to you that most people would never see in their lifetime from a man like him. A smile.
You sent one back through slightly teary eyes, hoping for a minute he would look into you the way you were looking into him and that he would understand your internal dismay. You'd never loved like you loved him. Ever. And that would be true for the rest of your life. Your relationship had been an amalgamation of every emotion and he brought out sides of you that you'd never prepared yourself to confront. It was beautiful. It was bittersweet. And it was over.
He knew. He knew you'd wanted nothing more than your freedom, which was the one thing he didn't know how to give you. Not even now. He knew it was at the expense of your own happiness, but he couldn't help himself to follow you around Bucharest even if you hadn't caught him in the act of doing so, such as tonight. He wanted to be in your life anyway you would let him and even though the former was preferred, he was okay with learning how to live on the outskirts of your heart while you lived on the very insides of his.
He'd follow you around Bucharest and he'd follow you around the world.
You shifted in your jacket, despite the summer air. Your eyes had gone from his to the subway opening a couple yards away, where you'd initially been heading. There was your apartment waiting for you, where you'd have your own melancholic isolation. It was a hop skip and a jump away from the man who'd been your husband for all the years prior.
An image came into your head just then. One of a faraway place, tucked into the crevices of your mind so far back you'd almost forgotten its existence entirely. A cool night in your city where he'd gone on a walk with you, wearing the same jacket you had on now. You had chopped your hair and dyed it bright orange following the news of your father's death. It was just a silly coping mechanism to you, but Nigel had smiled when he'd walked into your shared apartment and saw the brightly colored hair littering the floor tiles. He'd suggested a walk to get some fresh air, under the rainbow colored lights you'd grown so fond of.
That night, you were looking at the snowflakes falling from above, threatening them with your tongue to catch them in your mouth and have them melt against your lips. They refracted against the colors in the sky, a light magenta touching the clouds as far as the eyes could see. Shimmery eyeshadow caught in the corners of your eyes, making them appear to be even more wet and filled with sorrow than they were. Nigel was here for you though, admiring the way you turned around in the snow, over and over again as if you were the little dancing figurine hidden in a jewelry box.
He'd held you close to him as you cried the eyeshadow in streaks of black down your face, the orange seeming less bright and the snow feeling more cold. You hadn't felt the totality of his admiration for you until this night, where his hug wasn't more than just that. Before his presence became a prison. He smiled at you, one of those toothy grins only he was capable of managing.
And then, he let go. This was the only time he'd done so on his own accord, almost leaving you fighting to be back in his embrace. He turned to the subway, then to you and back to the subway before leaning in with a kiss,
"urmează-mă și te voi săruta."
And then he went racing off into the night towards the never stopping trains ahead. Smiling, you ran after him. Eyes still wet with the tears for your father and hair still orange from the impulsive chop. The wind whipped through it, leaving you with a coldness on the back of your neck you weren't used to. It felt freeing, though. Your first taste of freedom. Running after him, you saw the water from the other side of town, touching the sky and creating more of the pinky-blue color that Bucharest was full of. The snow crunched under your feet as you placed one in front of the other before the soles of your shoes hit the concrete steps leading underground. Nigel was only a few meters away, sliding down the poles in his dog button down he favorited.
And then suddenly you came to a halt as you crashed into him, stopping the chase almost as soon as you'd started it, in the middle of the busy underground station. You'd lost your balance ever so slightly but he held you upright, not letting you fall.
And suddenly your eyes were on his. There was such a beautiful agony within them. There was far more to this man than you'd ever know and his love would have no bounds. He was soft in the way he stared at you, mouth pressed into a smile as he really took you in with everything you were. Nothing was lost in translation as you looked at him, his soul instantly filling your own. Everything was slowing down but the two of you, seemingly lost in time to the rest of the world with the passing trains and people.
"I will never stop looking for you." He whispered softly. voice suddenly laced with concern.
You were confused, looking up at the man you'd known you'd be with for infinity. "I'm right here?" You questioned, wondering what the significance of his words could mean, if they were laced with an underlying hidden message as concealed as the man's identity himself.
He smiled once more. "I will never stop looking for your kind of love." He corrected himself and you felt your insides go fuzzy with a warm and loving feeling.
You smiled from across the street, towards the same junction you'd run down the first time he'd proposed a nighttime walk. This could get you into a lot of trouble, to hint at the idea of a potential rekindling with the man known to be a criminal. The man who'd offered you nothing but love, even if there was a side of toxicity it'd been served with.
It was at that moment that you deeply felt the confines of your freedom without him- and it felt suffocating.
You both locked eyes once again, and he had a look on his features as though he'd been reminiscing about the same memory. It was impossible for him to truly still want something with you after all this time, wouldn't it be? You had pushed him away countless times, over and over. Whenever you'd seen him in public since the official ending of everything, you'd never spared him more of a glance.
Fuck it.
"urmează-mă și te voi săruta." You whispered under your breath, figuring the future would be in whether or not he could read your lips, if he would have remembered that time from so long ago, if he still wanted to be with you. A tear fell from your eye and cascaded down your cheek almost as silently as you'd spoken his phrase, "Find me, and I will kiss you."
Not even a second later, you both sprinted towards the subway.
This just made my day omg it's so cute 💛🦐
Dog Days (TASM!Peter Parker x Reader)
Summary: You might have been ever so slightly perturbed about Peter seeing you in your underwear if he wasn’t sporting a large cut along his jawline; one that looked achingly fresh.
“Did you shave with a machete this morning?” You asked, stepping out of the doorway and making room for him to enter.
“A scythe, actually,” Peter deadpanned.
Words: 2.4k
A/N: Andrew Garfield!Spiderman; friends to lovers; heated make-out; cursing; minor injury; mutual pining; possible part 1 of 2? characters are in college & of age.
It was hot. That sticky kind of hot that clung to you and made you feel like tearing your skin off. That makes the sweat pool at the nape of your neck until it slides in a cold streak down the curve of your spine. The New York air was shimmering, alive with exhaust fumes and the output of overworked air conditioning units of every apartment on your block—except for yours. The dumbass thing had broken overnight and when you woke up at five a.m., damp and uncomfortable, you’d called your best friend knowing he’d make a quick fix of it.
But you’d gotten his voicemail, unsurprising given that he’d never been a morning person. Since you’d met him three years ago at freshman orientation, Peter Parker had perfectly offset you in every way. Where he could stay in bed until noon, you were decidedly not a night owl, often cosy in your pyjamas by ten p.m. Peter had a sharp wit and loved to tease, and though his wit brought out a sharp tongue you’d never known you had, you were infinitely shyer than he was. He was perpetually late to everything from the Christmas dinner you’d invited him to at your parents’ home to your final exam for Organic Chemistry—which he’d passed with flying colours—whereas you were punctual to a fault. And perhaps most significantly, you’d never known heartbreak in your life, never had the opportunity because you’d never given anyone your heart to begin with. Peter’s heart, you knew, had endured the worst kind of break. Though he only spoke of her sometimes, you knew his high school girlfriend had died tragically and each year you went with him to visit her resting place, holding his hand and running your thumb over his knuckles as gently as you could. The depths of that pain, written on his face and in his body language whenever he spoke of Gwen, made you steel yourself against love, afraid to give yourself to anyone in case you left them broken and alone.
There was a flaw in your plan to avoid love forever though, and that was Peter himself. As much as you’d tried to swallow them, shut them up in the deepest pits of your soul, bury them where they’d never see the light of day, your feelings for him had only grown in the last three years. At first it was a little thrill each time his eyes met yours, a tingle on your skin when his fingers grazed your own while you shared a carton of fries at a Yankees game. That had grown, exploded really, into a brilliant whirl of colours every time you heard his voice—a sort of love-induced synesthesia that turned Peter’s laughter yellow and his whispers soft purple and his calling your name the deepest, richest scarlet.
You’d fallen desperately in love with your best friend and you were resolutely not going to do anything about it, thank you very much.
“Y/N!” There was a knock at the door of your cramped apartment that drew you out of your crossword puzzle—stuck, as you were, on 18-Down. “It’s Peter!”
You’d barely heard the knock over the sound of Eminem in your headphones, but there was no mistaking Peter’s voice. You were at the door, earbuds abandoned on the coffee table, pulling it open before you remembered that you’d traded in your baggy David Bowie tee and jean shorts for a barely-there camisole and blue panties of the lightest cotton. You might have been ever so slightly perturbed about Peter seeing you in your underwear if he wasn’t sporting a large cut along his jawline; one that looked achingly fresh.
“Did you shave with a machete this morning?” You asked, stepping out of the doorway and making room for him to enter.
“A scythe, actually,” Peter deadpanned. If only you’d known he was being entirely serious—his neck having had a near miss with some villain’s techno-reproduction of a classic medieval weapon only hours ago. “It’s hot as hell in here, Y/N. Are you trying to get me naked?”
Your cheeks flushed and you made quick work of rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible, trying to distract Peter from the change of colour in your face. He was an expert at changing the subject, so much so that you’d long since given up trying to get him to talk about anything he didn’t want to, such as why he was chronically late or where he’d disappeared to that night you had tickets for the Rangers playoff game, or how he managed to find time to workout with his ridiculous school schedule and familial duties because god damn, his arms—you stopped yourself from letting that thought full form, knowing it would send you down a rabbit hole.
“Don’t think I’m not keeping a tally of every time you dodge my questions,” you muttered, moving to the refrigerator and opening it briefly to let some cool air out on your heated chest. The emptiness of the shelves reminded you that you really needed to get groceries because ramen noodles, eggs, and the rapidly decaying bananas on the counter would not keep you alive forever. “And didn’t you get my voicemail?”
“No,” Peter shrugged, “I saw you left me one but thought I’d just swing by.” A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, though you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what the joke was.
“Well, the AC is broken,” you informed him, straightened up and facing him where he stood in your living room, his tall and lean frame a familiar sight there alongside the stacks of textbooks and novels, the record player, and the pile of throw pillows you couldn’t stop collecting. For a long moment, Peter stared at you, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he was just now seeing you since coming in. You felt much more naked than you actually were under his stare and shifted your weight from one leg to the other, your hand coming to tug down at the hem of your camisole. Peter had seen you nearly nude before, but this felt—different. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the unfamiliar expression that flashed across his eyes. Either way, it had you squeezing your legs together as subtly as possible. If Peter noticed, he didn’t let on.
“That explains the outfit,” he grinned, tone light, though you noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard.
“It was hardly my first choice,” you shot back, “But anyways, now that you’re here do you think you could fix it?”
“This feels like the start of a por—”
“Don’t say it, Parker,” you cut him off with a warning glare, eyes wide. Peter only laughed, though stopped almost immediately, favouring his jaw. Already it looked like the gash was healing and you wondered where he’d gotten it from—it reminded you, oddly, of the ankle he’d “sprained” while showing you a skateboarding trick last summer. You would swear up and down, on every holy text that existed, that you’d seen his bone popping out of his skin. But the next day he’d been absolutely fine and you were certain that the limp he’d had for a week was half-faked.
“Y/N? Are you alive in there?” Peter’s amused voice drew you from your reverie and you nodded, running your fingers through your hair to get it out of your face.
“Alive and well,” you reported, “So you think you can fix it?”
***
As it turned out, Peter could fix the AC unit, but he’d need to pick up a part at the hardware store down the street. While he examined the ancient device mounted on your bedroom wall, you sat perched on your bed, silky pink blankets long since tossed to the floor, watching him with interest, noticing everything about the way his hands moved carefully over the shabby metal, the way his brow furrowed when he peeked inside the unit, and the way his eyes crinkled when he announced that it wouldn’t be an issue to repair.
For his part, Peter knew your eyes were on him—he wouldn’t go so far as to call it Spidey-sense, he just knew you and he’d had an inkling of the feelings you harboured for him for quite some time, though that part probably was Spidey-sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way, because god knows he did, but he was terrified to let himself fall in love again; beyond hesitant to ever let anyone get hurt again because of him. But then there was the way you looked at him, your eyes sparkling with delight when he made a stupid joke. And the way you said his name, like it was a magic spell wrapping itself up inside him and making him forget everything other than your voice. Yes, he loved you—more deeply than he’d thought he’d ever love again—but he was afraid to be in love with you.
When he delivered the happy news that he’d be able to get cool air back into your apartment, he felt his heart swell at the look of relief on your face.
“You’re my hero, Pete,” you said earnestly, “Really and truly.”
You had no idea.
“Yeah,” he said lightly, “I’m the best.” He saw the pillow coming at him even before it fully left your hands and dodged it in a swift, graceful motion.
“That’s not very nice,” Peter grinned wolfishly at you and your heart fluttered, “Here I am helping you out like a dear old gentleman and you throw things at me.” With another two quick, almost instantaneous steps, he was at your bedside, his hands coming down to your ribcage, fingers curling in as he began to tickle you mercilessly. You couldn’t do much more than squeal, kicking gently to get him off of you, whining his name as you begged him to stop.
“Peter!” you cried out, “It’s too hot for this!” There were tears in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks and your bottom lip was swollen from where you were biting it to try to keep control of your laughter. Looking down at you, Peter knew he was finished, absolutely doomed, to fall into the warm and beautiful void that was loving you.
His fingers paused their attack and you both seemed to take stock of the position you found yourself in; you, flat on your back in bed, hair a dishevelled mess haloed out over your head; him, legs spread so that they were straddling your hips, his arms on either side of your body, lean muscles holding him up.
“Pete—” you whispered, eyes fluttering down to where your bodies met, lashes wet with unshed tears.
He blinked once, twice, three times, a pregnant pause in the hot air before his brain supplied the two words he’d been wanting to hear, giving him permission to plunge forward. Fuck it.
“Y/N,” he licked his lips, “You—” his fingers moved from your ribs to the edge of your camisole, thumbing across its stitching, “You’re so beautiful.”
Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes shot up to his, pupils dilated. Your lips twitched, uncertain. “Don’t do this,” you sighed, all the while your own hands moved as if of their own accord, coming to rub up and down his arms, caressing lightly over the rippling muscle.
“Do what?” he asked, hand pausing in its movement to slip under your shirt. He withdrew it immediately, hoping he’d not grossly misread the situation.
“Don’t start something with me that you won’t finish,” your voice was barely there, “I—” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, couldn’t utter those little words out loud, but you knew Peter understood. You could tell from the way he settled down closer to you, his lips running feather-light kisses along your collarbone, the way he brushed the lightly calloused pad of his thumb over your eyes.
“Y/N, I feel like I was finished the moment I met you,” he said, “And now I’d really like to give you a proper kiss, if you don’t mind.”
“Hopefully you’re as good at kissing as you are at running that mouth, Par—”
The words couldn’t finish leaving your lips because Peter’s shut them right back into your mouth. He kissed you gently at first, then ran his tongue along your lips, asking entrance which you granted easily enough. Your kiss went on for what felt like years, each of you learning the other with care and attention. His hands explored your body freely, eliciting small moans of approval that led him along a path he was memorizing and then his lips were navigating that same path, kissing and nipping at your shoulders, your clavicle, your navel, between your breasts at the edge of your shirt.
You were on fire as your hands tangled into his soft brown hair, nails gently massaging into his scalp. You knew, from the vibrations on his lips, that he liked the sensation and filed that information away for a later date.
Once he’d kissed all the way down to your ankles, Peter flopped onto the mattress beside you, watching as your chest heaved with pleasure.
“It feels even hotter in here than before,” he smirked, “I should go grab that part, yeah?”
You swatted at him, laughter on your lips. “You’re the worst, Peter Parker.”
He caught your hand in mid-air, wrapping his fingers around yours and gently squeezing your palm—once, twice, three times. Three squeezes for three little words that neither of you were ready to say yet, but that you would willingly show each other.
“I’m serious,” Peter said, “I’ll grab the part and a pizza and we can hang out, even though I’m the worst.”
You rolled your eyes again, still trying to steady your heart rate. “Like I said, my hero. How can I ever repay you?” For good measure, you placed the back of your hand against your forehead, faking a swoon.
Peter only looked at you with fire in his eyes. “I can think of a few ways.”
He was out of the room before you could throw another pillow at him. Shame.
This is so cute 💛💛
Seo Moonjo SFW Alphabet
[The only alphabets on Seo Moonjo (from Strangers from Hell) are really dark and the reader's fairly innocent, but this goes along the lines of the reader being aware of what Moonjo does and him not being as cold and heartless towards them - so enjoy!]
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
I feel like Moonjo's fairly touch-starved, so he'll be a little hesitant and wary at first, but once you give him a hug and you're patient, he'll be legit addicted to hugs and kisses and stuff. He's not really one for PDA, in the sense that he won't do much more than stay close to you or hold your hand when other people are around, but when some poor guy tries their luck, Moonjo has... uh... his own methods of scaring them off, without having to get all touchy with you. He gives affection at random moments too, and there are a lot of times in the day you'll find him just staring with a small smile, but he's not trying to 'be offensive to you' 😂
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
It'd take a while for Moonjo to trust you like he trusts Eom Boksoon, but if you listen and don't cause chaos or whatever, he'll probably confide in you little by little. Maybe even tell you what he's planning before he does it? I guess it depends on how loyal and trustworthy you are. He'd put you first before the others and would be more protective.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Uh, yes. Definitely. Moonjo would most likely cuddle when you're at home alone together, where he's most vulnerable with you - needless to say, he's quite the tsundere. He'll cuddle in bed, like, in a very clingy way after he's gotten past the tensed-up and hesitant factor of being introduced to affection, and each time he'll open up a bit about his past and things like that. But it'll be a matter of keeping what he tells you quiet and not spreading it, or... yea. But you're trustworthy to him, so you're good 😜
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Moonjo can cook and clean really well, but once or twice a week he'll take you out to big restaurants and pamper you. Obviously, he's a cannibal, but he wouldn't force you into eating it if you don't want to. And if you do... he may or may not find that a hella hot 😏 Once you two have gone out for a few months, he isn't interested in anyone else, because to him, you're already a special masterpiece.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
The only way he'd ever break up with you is if you betrayed his trust in any way. And if you do that, he'd be pretty much impossible to reach by anyone else when they want to try to get close to him. He's learnt his lesson in placing trust on someone who doesn't value it, and won't ever make the same mistake again. But that's the only circumstance and a highly unlikely one.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Marriage isn't much of a big deal to Moonjo, since he already only has eyes for you. When he does ask you to marry him it'd be at a private and meaningful moment.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He's only ever going to be gentle with you, hands up. He's a great listener, and god help anyone that's giving you grief. He'll make sure that you're well looked after and if there's a day where you're not feeling your best, he'll cancel his workday at the dentist and stay with you, no problem. Since he hasn't been shown, like, any affection before you came into his life, it'd be very new to him but he'd catch on fairly easily and give you advice and hugs when you need them. If it's him that isn't feeling great, you'll do the same for him, which means a lot.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Like I've mentioned, he's very into cuddles and hugs and stuff, so when you two are alone, that's the hotspot for the fluffiness 💕 he's still a psycho, obviously, but he genuinely loves you and at this point will die and kill for you, and you're aware of what he does but don't let that put you off. So he does start the hugs often (he's actually an amazing hugger) and loves the attention.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
This milestone will take him some time, but once he fully trusts you and all, he'll tell you, or whisper it to you when you're in bed or when he thinks you're asleep. He'll say it a lot since he feels the need to assure you, and at the times he doesn't, he'll show you through actions (which I'll get to in a sec)
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He doesn't trust anyone fully apart from you, which makes him a very protective person. However, he gets that you need your freedom too and won't be overly possessive, but when a boy gets too close or tries anything, he'll give them a warning through one of his creepy/deep lines, and if they don't care then their teeth are added to his collection. People are obvious when they try stuff, so Moonjo will and does notice. If you're uncomfortable, he'll kill them without any warning, and if you want to watch or request anything, he's all ears.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
WoOw okay--
Moonjo likes forehead and cheek kisses, like, before either of you go to work or something, but he's passionate in actual make-out kissing and stuff. It's the best cure for his busy mind and he's addicted to it and you, so its gonna happen a lot
Especially at the times where he's had an annoying day and he just wants to cuddle and stuff, its on big time, and often leads to more sUgGeStIvE things 😂😂
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He doesn't hate them, but he doesn't love them either. He's used to dealing with them since he's a dentist and all, but he wouldn't be keen on the idea of becoming a father, because that complicates things and he grew up in an orphanage, so he won't know how to look after them too well and wouldn't want to 🤣
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
In the mornings he's most vulnerable and soft, and he'd drag out staying in bed for as long as he can, just talking and cuddling and kissing. And if someone in the apartment wants to interrupt for an unimportant reason... they're in a dangerous place.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Similar to mornings, but he likes to go on the roof with beer with you or just for midnight walks every now and then. You guys talk about your day and things like that, so to any normal person its all 'couple goals' haha
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It will take him a bit to open up to you since he hates the thought of himself being weak in front of others, but slowly but surely he does open up about the orphanage and killing his parents. When you're understanding and hear him out it'd make him fall in love more since he's never been in a close relationship like the one you two have and he'll do everything he can to keep you with him.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
It'd be almost impossible to get him angry, and I doubt he'll ever get angry with you unless you betray his trust (which is already covered) He's an extremely patient guy, but if someone's purposefully causing trouble and mucking up his plans he'll just get rid of them.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Everything. He's a very observant guy, so he's gonna remember loads of what you reveal to him, but never look down on you because of anything you say. He has the same favourite author as you and remembers your hobbies, so dates and nights out will often include them.
R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)
His favourite moment was him watching you completely concentrating on a hobby and just looking so ethereal to him, so hard-core pining there no lies hehe
Or wearing his jumpers, that's another simp factor for soft boy Moonjo 💗
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Yep, Moonjo is a very protective boyfriend, and he's not in any way stupid, so you're his number one priority. He himself doesn't need much protection, but if you get any information he hasn't heard of and tell him it'll definitely help and it grounds his trust a lot too.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He spoils you rotten, ngl, so he'll put loads of effort into dates and handmade gifts and whatnot.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Um, let's see - cannibalism?? Maybe? 🤣🤣
As I've said though, if you don't like it he won't do it around you, but if you do then you share a common interest, and he's gonna LOVE it
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Moonjo is a little insecure about his scars, but with loads of praising and compliments from you, it won't bother him much. He looks after himself well, but he doesn't care much about how he looks to other people because they aren't important and don't mean anything to him.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Absolutely. He wants you there with him when he goes about his killings or just in general, and you're always on his mind when he's supposed to be working or when you're apart.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Moonjo has a knack for making... uh... original pieces of art like bracelets and necklaces, so he'll take ages on crafting specially thought out accessories and give them to you as gifts when he's done. Full-on simp when he sees you wearing them around, no lie 😍
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He loves every little thing about you, okay?! So the only weird and kind of disturbing habit he has is cannibalism, and if he knows you don't like it, he won't do it around you.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Clingy sleeper for sure. He's often the big spoon, but he's a light sleeper, so if you're having a nightmare he'll wake you up and comfort you, and if you try to get up you'll be practically yanked back into his embrace. Whispers sweet nothings a lot when you've both just woken up or are close to sleep.
So in conclusion, Moonjo is a psycho killer cannibal, but he'd never hurt or pressure you into anything. His only grip on sanity is with you, so give him a hug 🤣💗
Promise pt.2
PAUL ATREIDES X READER
You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.
The summery orange sky cast long shadows against the wooden floor, the sun illuminating the sands and everything within the castle as it set across the Arrakis sky. It was warm and comforting, but a reminder of the scorching heat of the outside. Looking out to the distance from the corridor window, one could see the crevices left by the sandworms in their wake; the earth caving in where they had dug through.
Walking Paul through what was once the Harkonnen House, you noticed things about the place that you hadn't before now that you had time to walk around for yourself. For instance, the way the stained glass windows of the downstairs cathedral style rooms created patterns against the ceilings and made everything a rainbow color. Or the way your shoes made noises against the freshly polished wood of certain areas within the home whereas they didn't on the smooth stone. There was a slight breeze that filled the hallways and flew strands of Paul's hair out of his eyes and all around his face. His eyes were a piercing grey-blue with an intensity in them today that you haven't seen in a while. His chiseled features were set in a frown as he glanced about the hallway, looking in any direction other than the one you were in. It was irritating.
"Something on your mind, sir?" You asked the tall boy next to you, awaiting a response.
"I thought I mentioned that we could drop the formalities between us?" He said in a short and curt tone. What was with him today? What had put him in such an agitated mood since leaving the dining hall?
"Forgive me Paul." You said obviously starting to get firey with every word that managed to escape your lips. Why is he being such a..... What did he call it the other day again? Bitchass?
He let out a puff of air and the expression on his face calmed a little. "I apologize for the abruptness, I just came back from an interesting conversation with my father."
His father! You hadn't caught a glimpse of him since the Atreides family had moved in. Always busying himself with the plans to harvest the spice and to keep the Fremens at bay, he was almost invisible.
It was getting harder and harder to accomplish your mission.
"Your father..?" You asked, leaving the conversation open for him to add his own input. If he could give any clues as to where he was or something in regards to strategies the Duke Leto shared with him in private, you might just be able to carry through with the attack before anyone got suspicious.
He pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and stopped dead center of the hallway, giving you a clear notion that he wanted you to pause your tour. His fingers twitched at his side and his anxiousness was evident, even through the facade he put on in front of you. You wondered why he would be carefree and heartfelt one moment and then tense and stoic the next. Was he struggling with his duty of becoming heir to the throne? Had his father mentioned something so troubling that things had gone haywire?
"I found a Hunter-Seeker today. It was in my room this morning."
The air around you suddenly felt cold. The comfort of the sunlight was no longer within the corridor as a chill ran down your spine. That wasn't a part of the plan.
"A-a Hunter-Seeker? Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure since I was almost killed." He said with a matter-of-fact tone. So this is what was stressing him.
"Did you contact anyone outside of your intermediate family? Did you talk to the guards? What did Hawat have to say about the ordeal? Is your mother-"
"Ataraxia." He held you down in place sensing your worry. Something about the way he held his palms against your shoulders calmed you down. It was a comforting touch but it could also be deadly if anyone is to see the two of you like this. You are, after all, just supposed to be a servant.
He paused a moment before you looked up at him with fury in your eyes. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't told of there being another assassination attempt for the Atreides family since this was supposed to be your reconciliation with the Harkonnens. This was your ultimate approval of trust.
Maybe you were taking too long.
"Ataraxia? Why do you look angrier than me? I was the one who almost died." He pondered aloud.
Your hand went to caress the hilt of your Crysknife within your pocket to calm yourself. You were letting too much information slip through the cracks by allowing yourself to be upset over this. Paul was right.
"Forgive me. I lost my sense of place."
"It's quite alright. There's no harm in delving into one's own thoughts." He smiled with a pained expression and made a movement to carry on towards the end of the hall. You followed suit.
⏳⏳⏳
You pushed your face down into your pillow that night with an angry scowl and a menacing gaze. This was uncalled for. There was no one within the Harkonnen House that would be fit enough for your position; how could your uncle exile you to your home planet and force you to do his bidding without keeping promise of his reward? It made no sense as you were favored over Feyd-Rautha.
You turn over and stare at the ceiling above you. The maids quarters didn't have the skylight that your old room did; a place where you often found solace. It was impossible trying to sleep in the dingy and unkept room that you were expected to and instead you decided that you were angry enough to break the rules and be less cautious.
You were going to sneak back to your old room tonight.
The Atreides family hadn't used it yet to your knowledge. They had busied themselves with the other floors, being quick to set up offices and bedrooms and not having the time for much else. Hawat chose his own room and his training room on the far side of the House which left the upstairs basically uncharted. You would have to be quick throughout the halls as to not be seen, but once you had made it to the skylight room atop the roof, you would be fine for the night.
Slipping past the other sleeping maids, you made your way to the hall and slipped out the door. The night sky shone in through the many windows of the ancient building; the Arrakian moons almost as luminous as the sun. This moonlight allowed you to see as you slipped through the shadows and made your way to the staircase across from the Dining Hall. Being cautious of each step, you silently compiled yourself and your anxieties with sneaking out as you found the room with the only silver handle in the house. It had to be pushed inwards, not turned. You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to enter.
The skylight was the same as you remembered and as you'd figured, there was not a box in sight. The glass dome showed the stars and the moons of your beloved planet and the galaxies far beyond which were sure to be home to many other living creatures out there. You wondered what the extraterrestrials would be like and you shivered at the thought. Slimy and green you muttered to yourself and you laid on the floor, tilting your vision up to the sky.
"Slimy and green?"
You jolted backwards upon hearing another voice within the room. Twisting your body at a weird angle, you instinctively grab at the knife in it's holster and prepare yourself for a battle.
His brown hair was all curled in awkward places; a difference than it's usual contempt state. His lounge wear hugged his body in ways that were meant to provide utmost comfort, but it was clear that the set was too big for him. His eyes shone through the dark with their familiar friendly yet motivated gaze.
"Paul," you said, lowering your guard, "you scared me."
"My apologies, I promise you that it wasn't my intention." He smiled and positioned himself to lay next to you.
"What brings you up here? I figured everyone would be asleep." You asked. It was slightly annoying having to see him everywhere and never having any time to yourself. You always had to put up a front so that you would be able to carry out your duty in the end. It gets exhausting after a while.
"Should I be asking you the same thing?" He grins again and for a split second you could've sworn that he had made a suggestive look downwards. Just as quickly as his gaze was on you, it was back to the stars ahead and his eyes shone with the luminosity of it all.
"Right. I just- found this place the other day. Thought it would look cooler if I went to see it when the sun wasn't up." You lied straight to his face for what seemed like the millionth time that day. How many more lies would you have to tell?
"I come up here occasionally to watch the stars." He said, patting the space next to him to motion you towards the spot you were originally sitting in.
You calmed down and lowered yourself towards the ground next to the boy you were meant to kill. It felt odd knowing that you were playing a nice conversation with someone who would be bloody by your hands within the next couple of days if you played your cards right. You thought about carrying his beautiful head severed from his petite frame to Vladimir and receiving your reward for pleasing him. You thought about the way he would look next to both Jessica and Leto in the horrible graves of the bodies your uncle dumped when he was done profiting off of their murders. You thought about the smell of his ashes as he burned within the ground and joined the night sky that he looked at now.
And Paul thought of you. He'd hate to admit it, but you had taken over his mind lately. Fierce and opinionated, you were a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't met anyone his age nearly as interesting as they had all been too busy with that cursed Bene-Gesserit crap that he'd been forced to learn at such a young age. You were different.
And while you thought of his blood he thought of your lips. The way they would taste against his own and if you'd even like that. He thought of the way you outshone the stars and your intelligence of the cruelties of the world. Two kids forced to grow up too fast. He felt his chest make crazy palpitations; only something that happened when he was around the erratic Ataraxia. The mysterious girl who shrouded herself in the only darkness this planet had to offer. For once, Paul was thankful they had left Caladan.
You looked so beautiful with your hair sprawled out around you and your face tilted towards the glass above. The light brought out the angles of your face so that Paul could see you in a different way; he was used to seeing your skin kissed with the orange glow of the sun and now he could see the same you but with the silver of the moon. Paul wondered if the Fremen's spice dreams were of things just as beautiful.
The timing was almost so perfect you could feel it on your tongue. One hand on your knife, your mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kill him. With a quick stab under the ribcage, he would be gone in moments. It would be too difficult of a wound to heal medically, and while he was gasping for air you could slit his throat. He was leaning into you and you were leaning into him. Two strikes would be all it took.
The timing was almost so perfect Paul could feel it on his tongue. One hand inching closer to yours, his mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kiss you after thinking about it for so long. With a quick shift to his side, he could execute it fast and meaningfully as he hoped you would feel the same passion as him. It would be difficult to convince his parents to let you be with him and he knew he could be facing a lifetime of troubles if he really decided to be with you. There was just something so alluring about it that he couldn't help himself. You were leaning into him and he was leaning into you. One kiss would be all it took for him to know the truth. Was he in love?
One of you with the intent to kill and the other with the intent to love. Either way, it was a dance with death and the game the two of you were playing was dangerous.
Who's heart was going to break first?
⏳⏳⏳
(AN: Part Three coming soon!!! This was a short chapter, but I've been busy with a lot of things and haven't had as much time to write. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for the second part!! Thank you for reading 💛🦐)
Tags: @die-collective
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