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risuola · 2 months

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IV — EPIPHANY // Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

contents: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed @b3llair3 @lzaj19 @sanzusforeverwife @annshz, @mrs--imperfect @kaminari-no-ritsusha @gojos-princesa @burpzz

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sxxythingz · 1 year

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Something to Prove

Lo’ak Sully (21) x human female reader (22)

Taglist: @pandorxxx my girl once again helped me make sure that this came out perfect and just ahhhh!! I couldn’t be more thankful to her 😭💖

Warnings: smut, cursing, squirting, aged up characters, creampie, choking, p in v

Summary: You and Lo’ak have a close “friendship”, always spending lots of time with each other. One day while in your hut that you had built for you close to the lab, he peaks into your bag finding something that he wasn’t meant to find which triggers an experimental side of him.

WC: 2.6K

🛑MDNI🛑

You were one of the scientists working alongside the government who was lucky enough to get picked to travel to Pandora. The experience has been amazing, you never knew another planet could hold such beautiful scenery, far more amazing than earth. You’ve been on Pandora for almost a year and in your time here, you’ve managed to accumulate friendships with the omatikayan people, but there’s been one person that you have managed to create more than just a friendship with.

“Come on Lo’ak, no more silly faces, this is the last picture that I’m going to take.” You extend your arm out for the last time, holding your phone horizontally as Lo’ak sits beside you giving a toothless smile for you guys’ final picture. “That’s better.” You say as you look back at all of the photos that you guys have taken together in the last hour. “How do you even work one of those things? What is it made for?” He asks you as his eyes stay plastered to the screen, trying to figure out how you manage to work it so fast.

“It’s kind of similar to the throat microphone that you guys use, but not really. We can call each other on it, listen to music, play games, text, take pictures like we just did, and record videos.” He nods his head as he carefully listens to you describe how to use a phone. “Can I hold it?” He asks you as he holds his large hand out and you place it in his hand as your answer. “It’s so small in my hand compared to yours.” He says as he inspects the phone, turning it around to see the backside. “That’s what she said.” You smirk, letting a small chuckle out at your joke. “That’s definitely not what you say to me.” He smirks back at you and you roll your eyes at his remark, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

You and Lo’ak started out as friends, you could even go as far as saying that you became so close so fast that you considered him your best friend at the start of all this. Over these past few months, things changed quickly as your attraction for each other grew like wildfire. Your relationship wasn’t an actual relationship, but it wasn’t a friendship either. Lo’ak didn’t know the term for it, but you did. Your friend with benefits is what you considered him to be. He has been begging to become more than that every since you guys’ first time, he knew right then that he didn’t want anyone else having the experiences that he has with you, but you never accepted his offer knowing that one day you would have to leave Pandora and it would just hurt both of you in the end.

“Shut up! You are so cocky and I can’t stand it.” You laugh, lying flat out on your bed that you have near the lab. “That’s one thing that you love about me and you know it.” He responds back and you shake your head as a response. “Do you mind putting my phone on the charger over there? It’s about to die and I suddenly caught a cramp in my leg, I don’t think I can make it over there.” You whimper jokingly, lying to get him to do it for you, simply because you’re feeling lazy and you know he’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Cramp my ass. You just don’t feel like moving, Y/n. You are so lazy.” He chuckles before standing up to walk over to the table and put your phone on charge for you. You stare at the ceiling of your cot, waiting for Lo’ak to come sit back down beside you before you realize he’s been standing in that one spot for too long which makes you jot your eyes up to see what he’s up to. “What’s taking you so long, asshole?” You ask as you sit up and watch him slowly turn around to face you with something in his hand.

“What the fuck is this?” He asks you, a pair of thongs dangling from his long slender fingers. Your eyes widen in embarrassment “Oh my gosh! Lo’ak, put those down!” You yell out as you quickly run over to him and snatch them out of his hand, placing them back into your bag quickly. “Those are a type of panties called thongs. And why were you even snooping through my bag?” You hit him in his chest as you watch a devious smile spread on his face. “How come I’ve never seen you in these, huh? That’s not fair, I want to see them on you now.” He demands as he crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at you. “What? No, I am not putting those on just for your amusement, sir!” You say as you walk back to your bed. “Oh come on. I’ve never seen them before and I bet you look fucking amazing with these on. Just this one time please.” He begs with puppy dog eyes, and you give a low sigh. “You’re not going to stop until I put them on are you?” You ask and he smirks while he shakes his head.

You roll your eyes and stand back up, reaching underneath your dress to slip your panties off, but making sure that it doesn't rise up enough for him to see anything. Your panties fall to your feet and you kick them to the side, slipping the thong on and looking back to Lo’ak. “Happy now?” You ask him as you watch him come closer. “Turn around.” He demands as he twirls his finger in circles with his words. You turn around to face your bed and you feel his strong hands land on the bottom of your thighs, slowly moving upwards as he lifts the dress up with his every movement. His hands completely lift the bottom of your dress up, revealing the thong and you hear him groan behind you. “Your ass already looks great with nothing on, but this just made it 10x better.” You feel his hands firmly grip your ass, a moan leaving your lips already. “Take this off.” He says, speaking more so to himself as he takes your dress off the rest of the way, throwing it on the ground next to your panties.

“Wait. I’ve got an idea.” He says as you feel his hands completely leave your body and you watch him walk over to your phone, taking it off of the charger. “What are you doing?” You ask him as he walks back over to you, flipping you back around to face the bed. He puts your passcode in and finds the camera app, looking for the record button. “Bend over.” He commands as he places his hand in the middle of your back and pushes you into the bed so your ass is facing up. He presses the record button, pulling you back with one hand by your waist so you are pressed against his pelvis. You grind yourself against his hard dick that strains against his loincloth as he groans, knowing that if you keep this up he won’t be able to contain himself any longer.

“You love to fucking tease me, don’t you?” He chuckles, sending a hard smack to your plush ass. You hum in satisfaction, smirking at the situation you had just put yourself in, knowing that he hates being teased and played with. “Maybe I do.” You giggle at the thought of messing with him. “Keep on, baby. I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk straight if you don’t stop right now.” He threatens you with a good time as he gives you a hard smack to your ass again, making you flinch. You pull your ass back up and throw it back hard as you hear him moan loudly, sharply inhaling after.

“That’s it.” He growls, stopping the recording and tossing the phone on the bed, quickly pulling his loincloth off of him and letting it fall on the ground. “I want to fuck you with your thong still on.” He says as he slides them to the side, needing no lubrication as you’re already soaking wet just from teasing him. “No foreplay today, yawne. I need to be inside of you right now.” He slides his pulsating dick up and down your wet folds before he slams into you, making you scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

His strokes are already fast and hard, holding you by your waist as he continuously slams into your cervix. “Lo’ak… I can’t t-take it.” You stutter out, not being able to speak properly from his hard thrusts. You reach your hand behind you, placing it on his torso in a weak attempt to slow him down, but he grips your arm in his warm hand and holds it there. “Yes you can, baby. You can take my dick. don’t push me away, you know it won’t work.” He moans, watching your ass ripple again this pelvis. He picks the phone back up, once again pressing record to catch you in your weakest moment. Weak under his touch, him not even giving you one minute to catch your breath while he fucks you senseless. “Fuck Lo… I-I’m going to c-cum.” you moan out as your eyes begin rolling to the back of your head so hard that you’re afraid they might get stuck there.

You feel him abruptly stop all movement and pull himself out of you with a popping noise, causing you to groan in frustration and look back at him. “No you’re not. You’re not cumming until I fucking tell you to.” He demands. He stops recording and picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He walks over to your table and knocks everything off of it in one swipe before placing you on it. “You don’t need these anymore, baby. I want to watch this dick slide in and out of this pretty pussy until you fucking cum.” He whispers In your ear before leaving a small peck. Your pussy grips onto nothing as you moan at his words. You lift your hips up and he immediately grabbed the thong, sliding it down your legs slowly as he maintained sensual eye contact with you. Without a second to spare, he grabs his cock, sliding back into you nice and slow, throwing his head back and moaning as he bottoms out. “I love the way you wrap around me like this pussy was made just for me, and me only.” He pants out as he picks his pace back up to go just as fast as he did when he had you bent over the bed.

“It’s yours baby. It was made just for you and I only want to feel you inside me. N-No one-fuck!- no one else.” You whimper, and he smirks before shooting his hand up to your neck, placing a firm hold on it and bringing you forward to kiss him. The kiss is hungry, as if you guys had been starved of each other for weeks. You automatically open your mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, making you moan into the kiss. He breaks the kiss before bringing the phone back up, this time it’s directly in your face. “Is this what you wanted? Hm? You tease me so you can be fucked like the little slut that you are.” His thumb brushes over your soft lips, signaling for you to open your mouth, sucking on the digit.

“Fuck… you should see your pretty ass on camera. Such a little slut for me.” He chuckles. Your eyes roll as you feel your body coming close to the edge once again. “You’re my slut and no one else’s, got it? Say it. Say that shit right fucking now.” He slams himself harder into you as he takes his finger out of your mouth and you scream out. “Fuck! I’m your slut Lo’ak. I’m your slut and no one else’s.” you yell as your eyes flutter shut. “Mmm. Good girl. I love how needy you are for me.” He growls as he stops recording and throws the phone across the cot, onto your bed as he feels himself coming closer.

You feel the heat in the pit of your stomach bubbling as you arch your back, pushing your chest into Lo’ak’s. “Lo’ak… Can I cum now, please?” You beg as you feel yourself pulsating around him and he moans at the feeling. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over this dick so I can watch you go crazy on me.” He says as he takes his thumb and rubs circles on your clit, sending you into a frenzy. “Ahh fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll once again, your body stiffening as you squirt with each thrust, squelching sounds filling the room. “Shit.” He pants out as he rams his hips into you one last time, staying there as you feel him cumming deep inside of you.

You heavily pant as you look into each other's eyes, laughing at how exhausted both of you are. “You just squirted for the first time and I didn’t get to record that part.” He says, making you look down to see the mess you made. His lower abdomen is soaked, so are your thighs, and the ground underneath you. “I had no doubt that I would.” He brags, glancing down at the mess again before meeting your eyes. You feel your cheeks heat up from the embarrassment as you cover your face laughing. You can’t believe you just gave him the satisfaction of bragging about this, knowing that he’s never going to let it go. “Shut up!” You giggle as you push him in his chest before he grabs your face and kisses you again. He slowly pulls out of you, going in your bag and grabbing the wipes that you keep handy.

He wipes himself off, then he wipes you down before handing you your dress to slip back on while he puts his loincloth back on. “If you tell anybody what I just did you are so dead.” You tell him and he gives you that cocky smile that gives away the fact that he’s going to tell any and everybody who will listen. “You’ll just have to kill me baby because I’m definitely telling it.” He jokes and you roll your eyes before laughing. “skxawng. You are lucky that you’re cute.” You tell him as you stand up to face him, even though he towers over your small frame. “You might as well just date me. Please, I know you want to. You even said it yourself. I’m cute, I make you laugh. And let’s not forget….I give you the best dick of your life.” He smirks, convincing you now more than ever. You let out a sigh as you shake your head with a smile before looking back up at him.

“I mean…why not Sully?” His ears perk up at your response as you watch a bright smile light his face up. “See? You played hard to get but I knew you wanted me this entire time.” He says confidently as you both lay down on the bed together. “Oh whatever! You wish.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. He pulls you closer to him and cuddles you, staring into your eyes. “No need for wishing, I’ve got you right where I want you baby.” He says before planting another kiss on your lips. “You are such an asshole.” You laugh as you nuzzle your head into his chest, your eyes heavy as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep.

A/N: So first of all, thank you guys so much for liking my first story, I didn’t expect all the love and it makes me so happy!! 😭💕 I hope you love this one as well and let me know what you think. Also, if anyone has an request for stories that they would like for me to create, just let me know and I would be more than happy to do it! Enjoy you guys 🥰

(P.S. Can we just take a moment to appreciate how fine Lo’ak looks in this picture because what 🥹😭)

#lo’ak x reader #atwow headcanons #atwow #atwow smut #lo’ak smut #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak x human reader #atwow fanfiction #avatar #avatar smut #lo’ak x fem!reader #lo’ak x y/n

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sorryimananti-romantic · 7 months

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Feeling Like I Do

neighbour!yunho x reader

best friends to lovers au

word count: 5k (bulletpoint headcanons this time)

genres: fluff, absolute fluff, a little crack, a little angst, some suggestive jokes thrown around, just wholesomeness and yuyu

synopsis: you and yunho have been best friends since forever and neighbours for a while, and you find it harder with each passing day to hide your feelings for him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (this took way too long to finish considering the deep yunho brainrot we've been in)

special thanks to @hwaightme your guy.exe triggered this hehe

being best friends with jeong yunho was not as simple as it sounded

especially when he was your neighbour

like, right next door. the very next apartment

so you couldn’t avoid him even if you wanted to

honestly, you brought this upon yourself, if you think about it

ever since you were kids, you had been inseparable

from going to the same school and bonding over a similar sense of humour

from pranking the rest of your friends together to making fun of each other

to knowing each other’s deepest secrets

except for the one that really mattered- that you had the biggest, fattest crush on your best friend

honestly, you do not recall when exactly it happened

if you think back, you can’t pinpoint it to one moment

it is a number of moments, the years you spent together, the memories you shared that you are now a grown up and still hopelessly in love with him

though you would not admit it

never. ever. over your dead body.

you just have one fear that has stuck with you and it is that you do not want to ruin things between the two of you

he has known you since forever. he knows you inside out.

he’s too precious to lose over something as stupid as your feelings

because if he does not feel the same, you will never be whole again

but if by some small chance he does and you mess things up later? you would never recover

this is why you think having feelings for your best friend is so messed up

and this is the reason you always dismiss his flirty actions as jokes between two best friends who are super comfortable with each other

like when he casually enters your unlocked apartment and asks for a pinch of salt and spots you in the ugliest fit you’re wearing

he will go “wow you look beautiful”

and you will make a face, knowing he is joking, and ignore the butterflies in your stomach

and you respond with “you don’t look too bad yourself” when he himself looks like he nests a squirrel in his hair

his casual touches and occasionally flirty gazes do not bother you anymore

you’re made of steel now

so when he hugs you out of nowhere or swings you around just to hear you squeal, you know it’s just what friends do

or when he finds you too adorable and kisses your temple, you let it pass. you don’t read too much into it

though occasionally, you like to blur the lines too. he might know at this point

like what friend runs to their other friend only to jump in their arms and bury their face in the crook of the other’s neck?

what sort of friend casually zones out while staring at the other and wonders what they did to deserve them?

you

perhaps, this was a teenage crush that would have quelled with time- but that was if you had parted ways for college

by some evil play of the fates, you two ended up in the same city, quite close to each other

and as soon as you two had enough savings, you both decided to be neighbours

you just didn’t have it in you to be apart from each other

and funny thing was, no one batted an eye. it was so natural

though they did question why you weren’t housemates

you and yunho would always share a grin and respond with ‘to protect the last shred of privacy’

which was an inside joke now

so when you both started living together- because that’s exactly what it was

from going grocery shopping together

to knowing each other’s door locks

dropping in stuff for the other without their permission

privacy? ha. what privacy?

sure, you almost once walked in on him showering

and he almost walked in on you changing your clothes (your fault you didn’t shut the door, right?)

but that wasn’t a big deal at all

you would slide notes under each other’s doors- cute reminders to take an umbrella or a good morning/good night

or an ugly doodle or a ‘u stink’

you did not collect all those notes in a jar. you did not

he once bought 10 rubber duckies and hid them around your apartment and you would find them in the most odd places

like inside a pot you rarely use

one was even in your underwear drawer

whenever you’d find one, you would take it with you whenever you went to yunho’s and hide it somewhere there

and so the eternal game of hide and seek began

you have never talked about it out loud by the way

the more memorable things were just making yourself at home at the other’s place when one of you did not feel like being alone

which was most of the time, if you were very honest with yourself

you would watch tv together while you had dinner and have a heated discussion about whatever you were watching

or you would play games with him

or he would help you pick out your fit for the night

or you would style his hair

or you two would stay up all night talking about stuff

about anything and everything

emptying out your hearts

yet still you would always have more to talk about

it was never a boring moment with yunho

and you could go on about why you loved him forever

every day, you woke up glad that he was so close to you and still with you

he was the only person who did not judge you

you could say something nasty and he would still try to understand your perspective

which just made him 100000x more precious

but he would call you out when you did or said something wrong/bad but in a very gentle manner

which you appreciated so much

and the best thing was, he always stayed. he was always there

his arms were your eternal safe space

and he knew

it was like he knew the look in your eyes, whenever you needed a hug

and he would spread his arms and you would walk to him and wrap your arms around his waist while he embraced you

and tell you that it would be okay, no matter what was going on

he would always offer to hear you out or simply be there, physically

he was just… so easy to be with

he was your personal ray of sunshine, your little fluffy cloud, yours

he was yours- oh, how you wished he could be yours in all the ways

because whenever he talked about someone he noticed with you

or just looked at someone different and then find you staring at him

he’s respond with “i just like their outfit” or “i think their hair is nice”

and you would wonder if it’s really just that

you two do have an unspoken promise to tell each other whenever you start dating someone or fall in love

but that’s mostly because you both know your dynamic would have to change a bit

because you two wouldn’t be each other’s priority anymore- not like you are now anyway

and it hurts to just think about it

you asked him, “what would really change?”

and he responded with, “i would appreciate it if you do not connect your bluetooth to my speakers when i have someone over and play some unholy audio”

which turned into an argument because he has literally done the same to you and you had a friend over

you had to explain yourself and explain yunho and tell the traumatised friend that this was just him pulling a prank on you

but you responded with “you know what i will also appreciate if the person does not find a potato instead of a soap in the sink”

you two are always out for each other and after all these years… you two never know each other’s next move

but you both know your dynamics would change in more ways than that

you wouldn’t be able to stroll in his apartment so casually and make breakfast for the two of you because you ran out of ingredients

neither would he be able to come and take a shower in your apartment because “i ran out of hot water” or “i want to smell like strawberries today”

you wouldn’t be able to go and sleep on his couch or bed because you felt lonely

neither would he be able to do the same

and you both would have to tone down the physical affection because you two have heard enough about people mistaking you for a couple

honestly, sometimes you wonder if those people gaslit you into seeing him as something more

but… it was yunho. how could you not?

especially when he cared for you like no one else?

and maybe, maybe, just maybe

he thought of you like that sometimes too

it was probably wishful thinking but oh, how you wished he did anyway

because you couldn’t take it sometimes

you couldn’t take how he would zone out while listening to you talk and look absolutely adorable

you couldn’t take how when you’d hold hands while walking he’d caress them absently

and you couldn’t take how he’d play with your hands when you’d tell him about your day or some gossip

you couldn’t take it when he’d sneak up on you and wrap his arms around you in a back hug and make you feel so small and safe

or when he’d rest his head on yours as you hugged

you couldn’t take it when his gaze would linger on you a fraction of a second longer when you were too close

or when he would always search your eyes before he would plant a chaste kiss on your cheek or forehead

you really, really couldn’t take it anymore

perhaps you needed therapy now

you couldn’t afford slipping in front of yunho tho

or anyone of your mutual friends for that matter

because you knew if someone found out they would somehow let yunho know

and you weren’t ready for his answer

what if he distanced himself from you if he ever found out? you couldn’t have that

perhaps you should have physically distanced yourself from him

perhaps being neighbours made it worse

tho, could you call it worse when it was literally a blessing to have him so close to you?

you’re starting to question it tho

bc one night when you were out drinking late with your friends

you came back to your apartment complex, feeling so low

and when you were about to cross yunho’s door to get to your own, you paused

you paused and stood outside his door for the longest time

and then you sank down and rested your back against his door

wishing he wouldn’t find you

you just needed to cry a little and lighten the weight on your heart

except, another evil play of fates and yunho somehow just knew to look for you

he almost opened his door but heard the faint sound of your cries

at first he thought it was a lost kitten or something but then he opened his door a fraction and found your figure on the floor

and his heart broke

“y/n? can you please move a little so i can open the door?”

you froze

until he called your name again and you wished you could dig the ground and bury yourself under it

but you moved and not a few seconds later, he was next to you and rubbing your back

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you replied

except there was a lot

you just couldn’t tell him

just like the various times he found you crying alone and no matter how much he insisted, you wouldn’t tell him

he wondered who hurt you sometimes

he wondered who it was so he could punch that person or do anything, something, to make it all right

because he hated it so much when you cried

it made his chest feel tight and he’d always get confused about what he was feeling

a number of things is what it was- anger, longing, pain, confusion

but this time? he wasn’t going to let you go

because just how long had you been crying like this? why didn’t you just come inside? why didn’t you find him?

he asked you that

you couldn’t reply yet again

so he decided to bring you inside

he made you drink some water

he wiped your face with the sleeves of his black shirt

and you finally looked at him

oh goodness. he was wearing those black rimmed glasses again

the ones that made him look so, so good.

but he looked angry

“you’re going to tell me who made you cry. or else we’ll be sitting here just like this all night while i wait for your answer”

you bit your lips, looking away and cursing yourself internally

you should have cried in the shower or something

“can i rest? my head is spinning- i might have drank too much-”

“no.”

you locked eyes with him and he didn’t look away

“do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see you like this? and how much it hurts me that you stayed outside? why didn’t you come to me?”

you looked away again, wiping the fresh stream of tears

it was getting harder now, to not give in. to not answer his questions and put an end to this once and for all

especially with yunho so close to you and caressing your bare knees that you put between the two of you

“tell me”

“i can’t”

“why not?”

“because…” you sighed deeply. you looked at him

if you weren’t drunk, every cell in your brain would have screamed at you to shut up

but because you were, it was now your heart tugging that did it for you

“don’t look at me like that, yunho.”

yunho only cocked his head, refusing to look at you any other way

you snaked your hands up your knees to meet his hands, locking your fingers

“you can’t distract me this time-”

yunho’s words got caught in his mouth when you started to lean forward and he drew back reflexively, looking at you questioningly

but you weren’t going to stop

he wanted answers? he would have them

so you continued to lean forward until you were on your knees and almost in his lap

you looked down at him, meeting his very confused eyes

“do you ever think about why i don’t come to you at these times? do you really not know the answer?”

you watched his ears flush

he knew

he must know

he must have a hint, at least, of what you felt for him

“is it really me?” he whispered

you didn’t answer this time

you couldn’t

you simply dropped down with a sigh and pulled your hands from his

he was so confused- he had no way to navigate through this without your help

but you were drunk right now

he decided you should at least be sober when you talk

and perhaps, you decided that too

so you resorted to climbing in his lap and holding him in a hug

he didn’t waste any time wrapping his arms around you

and planting a kiss on your head

just like he had done a thousand times now

“i’m sorry for making you worried,” you mumbled, burying your face in his sweatshirt, hearing his heartbeat

“i’m sorry for sounding angry- i didn’t mean to.”

“i know,” you assured him. “can i sleep here?”

“of course-”

“right here?”

yunho wished you would say such things with a warning because his heart dropped dangerously and he couldn’t help but let out a flustered laugh

“am i that comfortable?”

“you’re literally my human pillow”

and just like that, you were both back to normal

but yunho made sure not to let you forget about this

in the morning when you woke up before him and noticed him sleeping in a painful position to accommodate you on the couch

you watched him for the longest time

and snuck out to go back to your apartment and really panic this time

because boi, did you mess up this time

and it was the weekend. yunho would be up and asking questions in no time

you had nowhere to hide

perhaps, you should stop hiding now

the doorbell rang and for a moment you wondered if it was someone else

but when you opened the door to yunho with a bowl of soup in his hands, you knew he rang the doorbell for a reason

he would be asking you questions today

so you let him in, wondering how he would initiate the conversation

“i bet you have the worst headache now,” he goes, grinning like everything is normal

you didn’t realise he was being normal so you would lower your defences while you ate and chatted like normal

until he finally asked, “are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

“what happened last night?” you ask back

it was perhaps the wrong thing to say

because you see yunho’s gaze darken

you immediately sigh to let him know that yes, you know exactly what he is talking about

you did not like to see him angry so you decided to face what was next

but… anxiety started to creep in your chest as you looked at him, waiting for him to say something

“can you please tell me why you were crying last night? why did you not come and find me?”

you sigh deeply again, pursing your lips as you look at him

because you could feel it

this was it

it would never be the same again

you spend a few minutes staring at him, opening your mouth to say something but stopping, and then looking away and recalling exactly where you fucked up

and he’s so patient. he keeps waiting

he’s not even fiddling with anything right now. he’s just… there and watching you and waiting

you finally lock eyes with him and say, “have you ever wanted something so bad that in order to gain it, you risk losing it completely?”

yunho thinks it’s really cryptic, what you just asked him

because… yes, he’s wanted something that bad too

he didn’t realise it until the first summer he did not spend with you a few years ago

and he felt so lost until he saw you and everything started to make sense

and everything has made sense since

he’s wanted to make you smile every moment you spend with him

he’s wanted to embrace you eternally every moment you find home in his arms

he’s wanted to make you laugh because of all the sounds in this world, your laugh was his favourite

even tho it sounded like windshield wipers

he’s wanted you so, so bad

but how could he ever admit it

suddenly, he understand you

and he finds himself nodding slowly, his heart beating with an urgency indicating the arrival of a change

it could make or break you both

so he says, “yes… yes i know exactly how that feels”

you both watch each other for a few moments, afraid to take the next step

but yunho won’t give in now- he doesn’t want to see you cry like that ever again

“is that why you were upset? you’ve been mulling over something like this?”

you’re hesitant but you nod

so he leans forward as if to hold your hands from across the table but he stops himself

and asks, “why have you been so afraid to tell me this?”

it’s silent. very silent

only the sounds of your breath in the room

and the sound of your heart in your ears

with a gulp, you manage to say, “because… because i’m afraid of being selfish and losing you in the process.”

for a few seconds, yunho is frowning in confusion as he tries to make sense of what you said

and you see exactly when realisation hits him

when his features relax and his gaze clears and his mouth parts as he look at you

you don’t look away. you’re waiting for him to say something, to respond, to hurt you with what he’ll say next, anything

but he looks away and lets out a flustered laugh and you can’t help but let out your own nervous laugh as well

you watch his ears flush and his lips curl downwards as he stifles a smile

and you finally cry out, “say something, you idiot.”

yunho puts a hand over his mouth as he stares at you

and suddenly, you feel hot all over. the embarrassment is catching up to you

“are you telling me, y/n, that you like me? that you… actually want me?”

you blush furiously and you’re almost sweating now but you manage to nod

and yunho is laughing in disbelief again and you’ve had enough

you get up, muttering about getting a drink but yunho is quick to catch your wrist and pull you towards him

and you’re suddenly too close

he’s searching your eyes

“you want me?”

you give him a pleading look and he understands

he brings an almost trembling hand to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear first

“i need you to say it, y/n. because i-”

“yes,” you nod, “yes, i want you. is it too much to ask for? have i ruined things?”

yunho shakes his head and lets go of your wrist only to cup your face and you try to decipher the look in his eyes

it is not the first time he has looked at you this way but this time it’s a bit different

“do you have any idea how much i’ve wanted you since forever?”

you think you’re hearing things

because there is no way

there is absolutely no way

that jeong yunho- your best friend- wants you

“you’re not joking, are you?” is your response and yunho laughs a bit before he leans in, watching your breath get caught in your throat when he gazes at you

and then his gaze is stuck on your lips and he’s waiting

and now your hands are moving out of their own accord, snaking up to his chest to fist his black sweatshirt

his nose brushing against yours undoes something in you

“yunho, please,” you manage to whisper

and then he finally pecks your lips

it’s cautious, it’s soft, and it’s nothing like you imagined it to be because you’re feeling a number of things

he scans your face briefly before he pecks your lips again, this time longer

and then he does it again and you’re finally moving your hands and tilting your face up so he can properly kiss you

and there’s no need for words anymore

the unspoken actions are enough

you open your mouth and he dives right in, kissing you eagerly

your knees were already weak so you struggle to stay upright but he’s quick to catch you

his arms are holding you to him and you’re the one cupping his face now as you kiss

it is years of longing and love poured into this kiss and none of you want to stop

but you eventually break apart for breath and then you realise exactly what position you both are in

and suddenly, you’re both laughing, too shy to look at each other and you hide your face in his chest

he’s caressing your back while you recover and when you look up, he’s got the most loving look in his eyes

“what took you so long to do that, y/n?”

“i could ask the same,” you respond. “i could cry right now.”

yunho laughs, planting a kiss on your forehead. “well. how do you feel?”

you hug him, taking deep breaths

“i think we should really talk,” you laugh

he steers you to the couch but he makes you sit in his lap so he can caress your face or play with your hair while you talk

and you can’t because he’s looking at you with the softest gaze ever

so you just ask him since when he started liking you- does he like you?

he tells you about how he, too, has been afraid to ruin things

and talks about how he thought you liked someone else

you ask him if he never got the hint

but you both know how wary you two have been, especially lately

never reading too much into things

perhaps one of you should have

“i’m sorry i made you suffer like that,” yunho finally says to let the weight off his shoulders. “i never realised you were hurting because of me.”

you tell him it’s not his fault and that if he did not like you back you would have been hurt, yes, but you would have dealt with it

except you are so lucky that he feels the same way about you

you can’t believe it, actually

you trace the curves of yunho’s face

it’s like you’re looking at each other for the first time now

“i’m yours,” he whispers when you finally look him in the eyes. “i’ve always been yours.”

you can’t help the tears now

they are tears of relief and sheer happiness

and yunho understands because he’s pretty sure he will cry soon too

he lets you pepper kisses on his face

and holds you when you hug him again

“good thing it’s the weekend, right? we can stay like this all day long.”

and you do

you have nothing you’d rather do

you stay in each other’s arms, talk about everything and anything, caress each other’s hands (mostly you bc you love his hands), makeout in between

and it’s so natural

nothing has changed- it’s just like before but better

you’re still joking around and teasing each other like before

he still passes a ‘ur ugly <3’ or a ‘what a mess’ note under your door

and you still respond with an explicit drawing

the suggestive jokes have levelled up tho

he always catches you off-guard with them and you either blush furiously or send something flying at him

a few things have changed tho

like when he finds you in the kitchen and gives you a back hug

this time he’s quick to sneak in a kiss and maybe nibble at your neck

sometimes it turns into a heated makeout session

other times you ask him to stop so you can focus on cooking but he keeps distracting you until you’re running after him with a wooden ladle

and you two can’t stay away from each other now- you couldn’t anyway but this time it’s different

this time when you crawl in his bed at night time, he is quick to spoon you

and now he does not hesitate to find you in your apartment too, at night

earlier he used to keep a distance for the sake of you both- you realise how now

now he doesn’t sleep in the corner of the bed with the excuse that he likes it

he has to hold you while sleeping

and he has to mutter dirty little things to rile you up too

when your friends find out, they’re not surprised at all

they’re disappointed it took you two this long

they call you both dumb and dumber and perhaps, they’re right

but perhaps… this was the right time

there is a time for everything, you realise

and it took you and yunho years of being together to realise that yes

you are meant for each other and no one else :’)

he’s your best friend, your other half, and your soulmate

he is yours <3

#jeong yunho #yunho #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #yunho ateez

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writefightandflightclub · 2 months

Text

Something to prove: Frankie Morales x fem!reader blurb

Read the warnings.

Summary: you’re wrong. And Frankie wants to prove it.

Genre: steam / implied smut. Teasing / sexual tension. Brat /brat tamer or Dom / sub vibes.

A/n: okay, look. Frankie is cool, calm and collected. Expect when he’s not. And I just love finding the things that flip that switch on his composure and create, specifically, a Frankie of the u n h i n g e d and f e r a l variety. (That was my initial concept and then… this defo grew somewhat darker than I’d intended, so please do read the warnings! I dunno what happened but I guess I went a bit feral too don’t look at me 🙈)

Spoilery Warnings: there are definite dub-con elements here. Frankie is not checking-in thoroughly for consent and there’s one point where his thought-process /actions outright disregards consent (it’s Frankie’s POV). In my head, reader is enthusiastically on-board for everything which happens during the fic and for what is implied off-screen, but that’s definitely not made explicit in the text or even the internal monologue as it usually would be, and Frankie doesn’t know that for sure all the time. Consider yourself warned. As well, some dumbification here, reader called “stupid girl” etc. So… it’s a slightly darker!Frankie than I would usually write or characterise rather than aiming for canon so much! Also, implied threesome (or similar) off-screen, so a smidge of Santiago x reader which I opted not to tag as it isn’t the main focus. Some dub-con from Santi too. Daddy kink warning (once). (Light) Choking. Spitting (once). Dom / Sun, Brat / brat tamer vibes. Fingering. Definite theme in the language of “it’s for your own good / I know what’s best for you” which could be triggering, and could count as coercion. Explicit.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

Gif by @santigarcia

No, the voice in Frankie’s head blares, the word defeaning - although no sound passes his lips. No. No. No!

You’re wrong.

Even as Santiago smiles smugly. Says “you got that right, sweetie.”

No.

Frankie’s jaw writhes, his hand clawing into his own thigh even as a gentle titter spreads throughout the room, passed amiably from mirth-crinkled eye to slanted mouth.

He’s not angry at you. Not exactly.

When Benny had asked, as the juvenile truth or dare game progressed, who you thought would be best in the sack, you’d had to pick someone.

It’s just that you’re wrong.

It’s him.

In his head it’s him. In his head, no-one else can give it to you the way he’s imagined making you come undone. No-one else could have you unfurling the way he’s plotted so meticulously; late at night, as he’s bucked his straining length into his own fist, wishing it was the warm, enclosing wetness of you.

You’re wrong.

He feels his pulse drum in his throat. Feels his face pinch into something angular and hard.

He rips an abrupt swig of beer from the mouth of his bottle. Abrupt like the way he wants to tear a kiss from your mouth. Sudden and harsh, showing you your mistake.

He’s not angry at you. He’s not.

He’s angry at himself; for not showing you; that you’re wrong.

He stands. “Excuse me,” he mutters gruffly, pacing to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to give some passing pretence to his exit. His broad shoulders curl in towards the cold, seeking to calm his suddenly heat-pricked skin. His shirt pulls taut over the writhing muscles in his back.

You find him like this a moment later when you enter, your sweet voice preceding the sight of you. And fuck. The contrast of your softness to the way he’s growing rigid in his jeans has his eyes fluttering closed, lashes fanning to his cheek. Has the circle of his plush lips dropping open as a pulse of need zips along his aching shaft.

No. No. No.

You’re so wrong.

And, for some reason, the thought of correcting your mistake, by setting the record straight himself? It has him coming undone.

“The boys are so easy to please, huh?” you breeze, apparently completely unaware of his predicament. Of the blood rushing in his ears so hard he can barely even hear your voice. Unless… did he imagine that teasing, provocative edge in your tone?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Frankie is fixed in place now. Rigid and imposing. Breaths mildly ragged; frayed at the edges. He hears you hop your ass up onto the counter with a breathy little - and seemingly deliberate - mmhmph. Knows that’s where you’re at, because that’s where you usually sit. That’s your spot when Santiago is cooking, all of the squad gathered around the kitchen island. That’s when Frankie usually leans his long frame against the wall right by you. Drinks in the way your thighs swell - full and soft- as they press into the counter. Imagines slipping his broad hands on to your knees. Sliding the flat of his palms up to part your warm, supple thighs. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your tantalising dress until they can spear your heat.

“Santiago’s” -Frankie juts his chin and curls his lip as you say his name- “so fucking needy.”

The word needy falling from your lips does something to him. Sends a throb of heat and dull ache to his length.

You have no idea how needy he is.

How needy he has been for you.

So… No.

Not Santiago’s name in your mouth instead of his. Not fantasies of Santiago fucking you bleeding into your dreams, keeping you up at night, making you slick between your legs.

You’re wrong.

In his head you’re wrong. In his head he’s had you coming apart on his cock a thousand different times. A thousand different ways. He never leaves you anything less than sated, breathless, boneless. He’s good for you. He’s the best. He’s what you need.

You’re wrong.

A low grunt rises in his throat.

Then, finally, with effort, Frankie delicately snaps the fridge closed. Turns towards you, his usually soft gaze intense and hard. Tongue curling around his plush upper lip. It makes the tentative smile you offer drop from your face.

Frankie watches your eyes skim down his taut, long body. Imagines that he sees your pupils blowing-out. A swallow sinking in your neck as he approach you like this. Harsh. Dominant. Maybe how he should have been with you all along. Maybe you would’ve liked that better.

At least, if he had, that way you’d already know.

His pulse beats a drum in his chest. Fuck. Those thighs of yours make his arousal swell painfully in his jeans.

“You believe it?” he grits, abrupt and forceful. Something dark in him activating. Something he isn’t proud of. Something that feels primal. Hungry, after so long caged away.

Your eyes widen like prey. “Believe what?”

Frankie looks at your mouth. You don’t even know. Don’t even know what’s good for you, do you? That he’s good for you. He’s going to show you. “Don’t play dumb. You know ‘what’.”

He crosses to you. Slots his hips between your thighs. Stands over you, muscles taut and rigid. Primed; yet contained. Reaches his thumb and forefinger out to grip and lift the point of your chin; deceptively soft.

Your mouth falls open. There is a sharp intake of breath, as though his touch is electricity on your skin. You writhe yourself into the counter. Arch your chest towards him, even as your eyes widen with slight apprehension. He’s never spoken to you like that before. Has only ever been soft with you. And look where that’s gotten him. Not buried balls-deep into your cunt, that’s for sure. “F-Frankie… I…”

No. No excuses.

“He was the obvious answer.”

No.

“I had to say someone.”

No.

“I couldn’t say… I c-couldn’t say you, could I?”

“Why not?” He shoves the pad of his thumb past your lips and into your mouth before you can even answer, sliding it over your tongue. Doesn’t even care in that moment if you want it. He wants it. Needs it. But he loves how instantly you pucker your lips to suck. Loves that the hot, wet glide of your tongue obediently greets him.

An awed smile drags over his mouth as you hum around him, already becoming putty. He imagines the wet spot he could make you leave on the counter, your slit all shined for him.

“Stupid girl,” he purrs, tone dripping with condescension, his voice honey over gravel. You moan as he withdraws from your mouth. Shifts his hands to clamp down on your thighs, snaking up. “I could give it to you so much better.”

You bat your eyes at him. Toying with him, like you always do - he sees it now. “H-How am I supposed to know that? I’ve…” you bite down on your pillowy lower lip. Looks like a nice place to rest his cock while he shoves into your warm throat, he thinks. “I’ve never fucked either of you.”

Still. You should already know. You should know it’s him.

You should know you’re wrong.

Frankie’s nostrils flare. He drags the pad of his thumb along the seam of his lips. Contains the anger pulsing in him. Has half a mind to unzip his pants right here. To shove you down on the floor and to fill up that pretty mouth of yours right here. Wants to.

“But you want it, don’t you, kitten?” He’s almost certain now. Certain that he hasn’t been imagining it, all these months. The teasing. The glances. The comments. These silly little outfits you wear around him. You’ve been trying to drive him to distraction, haven’t you? Playing him and Santiago off of one another. Riling them both up. Waiting for one of them - or maybe even both of them - to snap.

He drags you to him then, abrupt, your hands flying out to steady yourself against the counter. Your heat coming to rest over the clothed, straining mass of him as he bucks his hips up, grinding up against you. You yelp and it’s a pretty, pathetic little sound. “Don’t you?” he bites off, impatient for an answer now.

You want that. You want him to take it, don’t you?

All you can respond with is a loose, breathy affirmative as Frankie clamps his hand around your jaw and throat. He feels your heartbeat fluttering in your neck. It feels - to him - like want thrumming beneath your skin. Raw and red.

He dips his mouth towards the shell of your ear next, the scent of your perfume sending him into even more of a frenzy. “Did anyone ever tell you you should be careful what you wish for?”

He grips you harder, and your eyes flash with momentary apprehension as his grip closes over your throat. In the next moment however, your gaze is muddied by a glassy, blooming contentedness. A rising hunger. He jostles your head and you move with it, already pliant for him. It’s almost as though this is what you’ve been waiting for. Baiting him to snap. Baiting him to show you what he’s capable of.

Stupid girl.

How have you managed without him all this time? You need him. Need him just like he needs you. Need him to show you.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open it.”

You oblige, showing him your pretty pink tongue, and a groan unspools from his chest at how pretty you look like this. Then, without warning, Frankie spits into your mouth.

You jump slightly from the suddenness of it, though once you realise what’s happened, you appear to relish it. Swallow it down and look at him with an altogether wolfish grin.

“Mmm. Thank you, Daddy.”

Such a fucking tease. His cock is so hard in his pants now, his arousal throbbing against the thick, constricting seam. In need of release. In need of that little wet cunt of yours, like he’s imagined a thousand times.

Well, thanks to your little games, he’s done imagining.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankie grabs your hand. Tugs you down from the counter and back through the house.

“We’re leaving,” he announces to the remaining squad, paying their confused and concerned enquiries little mind. Then, he directs his next words only to Santiago. “You are too.”

The other man blinks in confusion. “Whu-“

When he responds, Frankie’s tone and his demeanour leave zero room for argument - he makes sure of it, the sounds carved sharp on the knife edge of his clenched teeth. “-Now.”

Santiago obliges rightaway. “Uh huh.”

“Hey. Big fella. What are we doing?” he asks as Frankie leads you hurriedly towards his truck, stalking down the gravel drive.

“Her.”

Frankie glances at Santiago in time to catch his thick eyebrows raise in surprise; but to his credit he only skips one pace before falling right back in step with him. “Oh. We are, huh?” Santiago looks to you. He looks hungry too. “Did you know about this, Princess?”

Frankie answers for you. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. And now, thanks to her, I’ve got something to prove.”

“Oh oh, Princesa,” Santiago purrs, a smug smirk claiming his mouth.

“Oh oh?” you ask with trepidation, as Frankie bundles you into the passenger seat of the car, clipping your seatbelt for you like you can’t do it for yourself. His eyes are consumed with fire as they meet yours, his tongue darting out along his lips. God, he could have you right here. Certainly doesn’t relish the waiting.

“Yeah,” Santiago breezes, slotting into the back. Frankie exchanges a dark, conspiratorial glance with Santiago in the wing mirror, before watching his buddy lean around the shoulder of your seat. “Honey. You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And Frankie’s gonna show you. Over and over.

“Get her ready, would you?” Frankie pipes up, not even dragging his eyes away from the road for a second. Even so, he hears you gasp and then moan in pleasure as Santiago’s nimble fingers peel the hem of your dress away from your thighs.

“It’s for your own good, Princess. You’re gonna need it,” Santiago explains as his fingers travel, finding the wet spot between your legs. “Frankie’s big.”

“Hmm. Sure. I’ve heard that before,” you punch out, in between abortive moans of pleasure as Santiago’s fingers work their way inside you.

“Oh, it’s not a brag, honey,” Santiago snickers. Frankie joins him in laughter, like the two of them share a joke that you’re just not in on. He slides his mouth up your throat. “Trust me. It’s a kindness.”

Frankie smiles. Clamps his hands down tighter on the wheel. Can’t wait to get you home.

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And he’s going to show you.

You shouldn’t push someone with a dark side if you can’t handle the consequences, he thinks.

He risks a glance as you throw your head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan of pleasure.

You’re wrong; but he’s going to have a lot of fun proving it.

#Frankie morales x reader #Pedro pascal #triple frontier

247 notes · View notes

python333 · 4 months

Text

soft spot — python333

— — — —

synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.

relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 6.7k.

warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!

“Having fun there?”

You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised.

“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly.

“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago.

For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows.

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table.

“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself.

“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you.

“Here.” You blink at it for a moment.

“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.

“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask.

You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.”

You know it’s not just stress.

For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it.

You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action.

And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again.

You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations.

Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it.

“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?”

“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.”

“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.”

You give him a confused look. “You do?”

“‘Course I do.”

You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?”

“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask.

“Could I please have some melatonin?”

“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.”

“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you.

Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful?

“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?”

Oh God.

Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.”

Ghost doesn’t look convinced.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned.

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.”

You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze.

“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?”

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—

The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair.

You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down.

He’s looking at you expectantly.

“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright.

“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird?

You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish.

You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.

Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent.

“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew.

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress.

Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer.

“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—”

“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…”

You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment.

Oh my God.

“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything.

You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small.

“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now.

“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all.

To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do.

You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise.

“What was that?” You don’t answer him.

To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—

“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively.

“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain.

You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up.

He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?”

You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you.

“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.”

You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button.

He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention.

The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer.

Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.”

But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago.

You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor.

Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.

He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain.

“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it.

“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?”

How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so.

“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?”

He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that.

“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.”

“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?”

You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face.

“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”

“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.”

“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?”

You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.”

You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.

You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling.

“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do.

You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”

You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice.

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up.

“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best.

After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you.

“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?”

“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod.

“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours.

He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you.

“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?”

You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine.

Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week.

The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention.

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level.

“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.”

—

Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression.

He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all.

He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions.

He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids.

He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates.

He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques.

He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired.

In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his.

And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents.

“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much.

From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't.

“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?”

“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”

You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.”

He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago.

“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens.

“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?”

“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts.

“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe.

“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down.

There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned.

“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.”

You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.

You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole.

You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead.

You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever.

Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow.

Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.

He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them.

He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience.

“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet.

It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?

Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better.

“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly.

“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.”

You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep.

“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.”

“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle.

“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?”

“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate.

“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?”

“Mhm. Way too big.”

“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.”

“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.”

“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?”

That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.

You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind. Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place.

“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?”

He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out.

You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed.

Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?”

—

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up.

Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge.

That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying.

You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now.

You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace.

Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in.

He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed.

He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you.

After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”

He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely.

You’re quick to fall asleep after that.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost #age regression #caregiver ghost #ghost x reader #platonic ghost x reader #platonic ghost #i find him so lovely #hes my dad guys trust #i was literally meant to be his kid #trust that if i ever get any cod games with him in it i will spend the whole time admiring him #dad pls come back home #i miss u #python333

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shanksbaby · 6 months

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Hello can you do admirals with a s/o who can't get mad, not exactly like kuzan cuz he could still have disagreements, but I mean you could throw a brick at them and they would just get it treated, and then be like don't do that again or sum-

btw love the writing keep it up👍

the request are closed but since i like this prompt so much, i decided to write anyway, thank you for the kind words!

Admirals with a difficult to anger S\0

Borsalino

you two are very similar. In fact, no one has ever seen Kizaru angry, or actually feel any negative emotion, he always wears the same smirk. And even though he sometimes seems sadistic in dealing with the pirates he doesn't show anger like Sakazuki.

literally the most peaceful couple in the world

joking aside, I feel like colliding with Kizaru or Kizaru colliding with you are very rare events. It's more likely that Kizaru gets mad at you for something, although as soon as he sees your little face looking at him with that calm look he forgets all his anger.

but these events are rare, you never get angry and Kizaru is too lazy to start an argument with you, among other things with a person who has never raised his voice with anyone.

and even when he gets angry with you, the yellow monkey can at most show a face of frustration, but he will never raise his voice at you (in reality he has never done this with anyone), if the topic involves him excessively he may change tone of voice (he doesn't raise it but simply stops dragging the words)

Sakazuki

I think you are one of the few, if not the only person to calm his anger. But in the beginning it wasn't always like this… the first time he got pissed at you and saw you looking at him with that innocent look while asking him to please stop because he was attracting attention, he thought you were teasing him.

then he started to understand that you couldn't get angry, he doesn't know how you do it, especially when the world is full of idiots and incompetents.

at first he looked at you as if you were an alien, sometimes he tried to force you to get angry, for example by shouting at you for silly things at work, but nothing seemed to trigger your anger so he gave up feeling defeated. You are one of the few people who managed to surprise him.

when you see him get angry you always try to calm him down (also because you are worried about his physical well-being). Sometimes you succeed, other times you just end up making the situation worse. But you never get angry with him, so much so that the marines think you are some kind of divine gift.

Kuzan

as Jinbei said, Aokiji is a man who rarely shows his passion. Generally he never gets angry either, he is much more laid back (similar to Borsalino). So arguments with him are very rare, also because he really doesn't have the energy to argue, especially with you.

he was surprised when after a guy spilled a drink on you only for you to refuse him and you just looked at him and told him he shouldn't have done that…I mean, he got mad about you and you, on the other hand, didn't Did you show the slightest sign of anger?

so, just like Sakazuki, he tried to whet your anger, through for example jokes like throwing you in the pool or ruin your food, but nothing. All you did was ask him to never do that again because you didn't like these pranks.

the rare times he gets angry with you and raises his voice (we know that in fact he can be loud sometimes), he immediately feels guilty when he looks into your eyes. You are too cute to be mad. Then she immediately apologizes and tries to make up for what he has done through gifts or bringing you coffee.

I am sorry if it's short but sadly i am in session + i have to go at the university for the laboratories

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youremyheaven · 11 months

Text

Fated Love in Astrology

So, every person has a divine partner that they are meant to be with. Your union with your other half (I hesitate to use the world “twin flame” only because of how misconstrued it is in mainstream astrology/spirituality discourse) depends entirely on both of your individual spiritual awakening and commitment to the spiritual path.

In astrology, the 7th house represents marriage, or, as I like to call it “union”. The 7th house, is the 7th house from the 1st house. It is the descendant to your ascendant. It is the shadow to your ego. Whenever we cross paths with an individual whose luminaries fall to our 7th house, it creates a very magnetic & intense attraction. It’s almost inexplicable what you feel for each other.

With that said, this sort of connection is not logical or rational. It defies all norms. The key to recognizing your divine partner is the intense attraction you feel towards them right away. There is no hesitation or second guessing, you’re simply awestruck by them. Nowadays, we all have a very tedious approach to relationships (due to our collective trauma and bad experiences), everybody walks around with a checklist to find someone who will fit their criteria but that is not how Divine Love works. You just know instantly that there is something different about this connection. That is not to say, the nature of the relationship will be easy. Fated connections are never easy and not everyone is meant to find their Divine Partner.

When such a person comes into your life, it usually triggers your ego death; they become responsible for you losing the shell of identity you held close to you. All your fears, your shame, your vulnerability comes to the forefront and you have to confront everything you’ve ever repressed. It leads to a dissolution of self.

In Sufism, there is the concept of “fanaa” which can be translated to “annihilation”. In order to merge oneself with God, it is first necessary to annihilate everything that you consider to be you. It’s important to "to die before one dies". Love & Worship are very closely intertwined. This is exactly what “twin flame” connection feels like. You rid yourself of your ego, you dissolve your sense of “self”. Sounds intense? That’s because it is. It irks me when people talk about twin flames in a casual way because a) not everyone has a twin flame b) this is not a fun experience in any way, shape or form c)This is the least casual of experiences

(I am using the word twin flame here only because it is a term that more people are familiar with, I wanted to speak of the spiritual background of that experience whilst using a term that’s already familiar)

In Jungian psychology, there is the concept of anima/animus, which refer to the unconscious masculine aspect of a woman and the unconscious feminine aspect of a man respectively. One aspect of being a “whole” human being is to integrate these unconscious parts into yourself. This is similar to what a twin experiences, your other half seems to be in the shadow, hidden from your view, crossing paths with them, brings that realization to you and now in order to unite with them, you must first dissolve yourself and merge with that unconscious image of them.

There is a reason why twins “mirror” each other; they are a reflection of you and vice versa. This is why every interaction with them strikes a nerve in you and you feel their absence like a phantom limb.

If you’re on a twin flame journey or would like to know more about it, I suggest immersing yourself in Sufi philosophy. To a lay person, the Sufi concept of Love may seem dramatic and over the top but for those in the know, it will seem deeply familiar, because ultimately your longing and yearning for your “twin” is your innate longing to seek union with God/the Divine. We were all made in pairs and to know the other is to know God and to know God is to know Love.

These connections are presented to you in order for you to ascend. Why were you chosen for ascension over millions of others? That’s the divine plan, not up to us to question. It is entirely possible to meet such a person at a time in your life when you’re completely spiritually unevolved (this is very common) and they usually trigger your dark night of the soul. This leads to positive disintegration although nothing about this experience feels positive in any way, shape or form.

Actually uniting with your twin and sharing a life with them is a long shot. Its often an unrequited love. It requires A LOT of work by both people. There is a lifetime of purging, integration and inner work before union could ever be a possibility. Most people who use the term “twin flame” are using a fancy spiritual label to describe their excessive interest in someone. You don’t have a twin flame, you’re just manic.

In Arabic literature, there are 7 stages to love, it is as follows:

1. Dilkashi or attraction

2. Uns or attachment

3. Mohabbat or love

4. Akidat or reverence

5. Ibadat or worship

6. Junoon or madness

7. Maut or death

If you believe you’re experiencing a twin flame connection, you have probably gone through these stages, maybe not in this order but you’ve probably experienced all of these.

You experience an inexplicable attraction that draws you to them, regardless of how far you stray from them, your heart clings to them & forms a deep attachment, even though you don't seem to understand it, you're consumed by love for them, without even knowing why, this love morphs itself into reverence and soon enough it's eclipsed even that & embedded itself as worship. Your feelings for them are so strong, intense and powerful even in separation, even in their absence that you feel yourself going mad. This madness is key because it brings you to the death of "self". You lose all sense of who you were before you met them. You're ripped of your ego. You die and die and die again, hoping to taste the love that will give life to you.

There are astrological indicators obviously but just because these aspects/placements are present, does not mean they are your twin flame. The biggest indicator is the deep sense of knowing you have in your soul, you don’t even have to know the word “twin flame”, you’re experiencing a magnetic, excruciating and tortuous kind of attraction.

Some indicators:

1. Venus in 12h

2. Venus in Scorpio

3. Primary Scorpio or Taurus placements (the Taurus-Scorpio axis creates the most intense chemistry between two people)

4. Moon conjunct Mars

5. Opposite signs occupying many placements (Virgo-Pisces, Cancer-Capricorn, Gemini-Sagittarius)

5. 7h synastry

6. Bharani nakshatra

Uniting with your twin can trigger your kundalini awakening. It is not for the faint of heart. Union is a very intense experience. Much has been said about twin flames and tantric sex. Imo? What we call Tantric sex is essentially the heightened feeling and intensity of sexual experience that a Tantric practice brings about. (its possible to feel this way with a non-twin if you have a disciplined Tantric practice).

Sex is the source and root of everything. It is the cause of creation and nothing less than divine. Eros is the first god that could be conceived by man, he is the creator of all beings and ruler of the universe. He is son of Chaos, the original primeval emptiness of the universe.

Longing, desire and Eros, all go hand in hand. When your soul has longed for someone for so long, the sheer passion and enormity of desire will make it a very one of a kind experience. Short answer being that sex with your twin will be out of this world and life changing.

In Sufism, there is a concept called baqaa which is subsistence through God. Someone who has experienced fanaa, or annihilation of the ego and self, finds God, unites with him and sees him in everything. This is what love of a “twin flame” nature does. It is all consuming and potent, you cannot walk away from it, even brushing with it briefly, transforms you. It purifies you and strips you of your pride, shame, fears and everything that you thought was “you” but the reward for this is understanding through first hand knowledge, a love so all encompassing, expansive, deep and profound that it forever alters the way you look at the world. You begin to love everything and everyone because you’ve tasted true love and its generosity.

Karmic Partnerships

These are extremely common and almost everyone has one. They need not strictly be romantic. Many non-romantic associations can be karmic. These people to put it very plainly, come into your life, to teach you lessons. They need not explicitly be “bad relationships” but the energy is definitely not light hearted and its absolutely not meant to last a lifetime. You are meant to learn your lessons and move on from them and break the karmic cycle. However there are people who do not do this and stay stuck in the same patterns and perpetuate the same cycles.

Some indicators of Karmic Partnerships in astrology:

1. 12h synastry

2. 8h synastry

3. Saturn aspects

4. Capricorn/Libra placements

Soulmates

These are the most wholesome, fulfilling bonds between two people. Soulmates need not always be romantic. The bond is kind of instant and inexplicable. You just get each other. It feels fulfilling, empowering and light. It fills you up. There is no angst and there’s no chaos.

Some indicators:

1. Moon signs that are compatible with each other

2. Moon aspects that are positive

3. Venus-Ascendant aspects

4. 5h synastry

5. Strong Venus or Jupiter aspects

6. Element compatibility (fire & air vs water & earth)

🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🦋🦢🦢🦢🦋🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🧚🏼‍♀️🦋🦋🦢🦢🦢🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️

I’m sorry if I sound a little too esoteric on this post 😭😭😭idk how else to talk about this stuff and I tried my best to make it sound as simple as I could 😭I hope this was interesting and if you guys have any questions feel free to ask me💛💛

Further reading:

1. Plato’s Symposium

2. Sufi philosophy and poetry

3. Carl Jung’s works

#soulmates #twin flames #twin flame astrology #twin flame #soul mate connection #astrology #sufism #carl jung #bharani #vedic astrology #astro observations #soulmate indicators

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for telling my cousin that her baby's nursery is boring and lifeless

I (24F) have an older cousin J (27F) who is like an older sister to me. Well she's currently six months pregnant with her first child and just recently finished the nursery so she invited me and my fiancé M (24M) over to see it for the first time.

Well we went and saw it yesterday.

You know those moms on instagram and tiktok that try to make their nurseries "aesthetic" and "minimalist" by making EVERYTHING beige, gray, or white?

Yeah thats what she did.

Everything in that room was either white or pale gray. The walls were white, the ceiling was white, the crib, blankets, curtains, blankets, even all the toys were white or gray.

And the only decoration in that room was a wooden circle, painted gray, with the baby's name right above the crib.

That room felt so cold and straight up sterile, like a hospital room. I cannot tell how unwelcoming and downright unsettling that room felt.

(and she wants to put a BABY in there?)

And J was just smiling a big smile, talking about how clean and calming the room was. (Calming how exactly? Just standing in that pale lifeless room was triggering my anxiety so bad that my chest had started to hurt from how hard my heart was beating)

I look over at M and he has the same uneasy "what the fuck?" expression on his face that I did.

J then asked if I liked it and wanted to do something similar for my own nursery (Im currently twelve weeks pregnant myself)

I outright told her no and when she asked why not I told her that her nursery was incredibly boring and bland. (I didnt tell her that being in this nursery made me feel like I was put in solitary confinement) she got angry and started yelling, saying that she worked really hard on this nursery to make it look as good as it does.

M tried to tell her to at the very least add some colorful flowers or something because babies need color and visual stimulation when they're young(which is true) but she said it would ruin the aesthetic. J then told us both to leave since we hated her hard work so much. (Also babies are very MESSY and stay very messy even when they become children. Like I distinctly remember running around covered in stickers, mud, finger paint, leftover food, and juice for a good portion of my childhood. So why would you want the room where your baby spends the most time to white? Aka one of the most difficult colors to keep clean? Thats just asking for problems)

Well a couple of hours later J's friends starting dming us, calling us awful people, saying that the nursery wasnt for the baby it was for the mom so J could decorate the nursery however she pleased (??? Its literally the BABY'S room) that we were just jealous of her good design and we were being assholes to a pregnant woman.

I dont really think we were rude and she's the one that asked for our opinion. But idk so Im letting tumblr decide

Were we the assholes?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lightfeltmemories · 5 months

Text

trouble trio sharing a partner.

characters include: feitan, phinks, shalnark

note: fun fact, this was left as a draft on my main for like over a year and i read over it and thought.... it would be better on here, but anyway, there's a lot of adult trio poly stuff, why not trouble trio? I have plans (just me announcing it, I already know it'll take years for me to actually go through with making said content) on making trouble trio content, fanfics and whatnot. so, here's a headcanon post about how the trouble trio would go with a polygamous relationship with the reader, nsfw themes will have a 🔞 on the side so look out! and when it comes to requesting anything similar to this..... no, i will not do the adult trio.

trigger warnings: yandere tendencies (but there's no actual yandere stuff like obsessiveness and whatever, most of it is just their normal way of showing affection), mentions of kidnapping, possessiveness, reader's eventual death, feitan carves his initials onto you because "you're his."

parts of this contain nsfw material, do not interact if you are a minor.

How It Starts

So, who are you? For them to actually even care about your existence, you would either have to be a part of the troupe or be someone they know way back from Meteor City, I highly doubt they would go heart eyes over some really stunning person they ran into on a mission or so, because looks aren't everything, right? A pretty girl, a handsome boy, or an attractive genderless person isn't gonna phase them in the slightest, unless you're powerful enough to woo them out their boots, other than that, the choices are; being apart of the troupe (which is the most likely case, since they have a chance of them all being with you more often) or you being a friend of theirs in meteor city and their feelings grew overtime.

Who would fall for your first? I'm honestly tied between Phinks and Shalnark, for Feitan it would take like 2 billion years for his crush to kick in since he isn't in tune with his more softer emotions (yet), Shalnark to me is.... odd... he seems like the type to fall for someone oh so easy but dude is like, the personified version of "don't judge a book by its cover," and the only thing Phinks got going for him is..... anger issues, so I'd go with Phinks on this one! of course when people (troupe members) ask him about his affections towards you, he denies them with the most obvious blush on his face, his infatuation isn't exactly that obvious but there are some hints like him wanting to be next to you more or even the two of you hanging out on your off days! next on the list: Shalnark, so how exactly would he fall for you? well, he'd probably get paired up with you more on missions and when he starts to hang out with you more he starts to feel himself grow fond of you more, and it slowly grows into a crush! kind of simple really. And finally after those 2 billion years are up, Feitan is up next! Everyone has this collective idea that if he realizes he has a crush on you, he'd do the opposite of his two counterparts; he'd want to avoid you so that the feelings won't grow stronger as he considers it a distraction, he may even contemplate on killing you, which is something I really hate to say since I feel like the idea is slightly far fetched for his character (i'm guilty of saying this myself but i considering the topic of that specific post i wanted to be dramatic) but I can see why people think this, killing you only goes if you aren't a member of the troupe but since you are, he'd have to deal with you, forcing himself to accept the fact as time goes by that he is in love with you, he's confused with his feelings when it comes to you, he isn't used to crushes, no one to him is that special for him to fall for, love is very sacred to him, it's something he and the others mentioned above haven't really experienced, and as it grows, he starts to form a soft spot for you as he gets to know you well, he starts to find parts of you that made him like you to begin with. (ik Feitan's is kinda longer than the others but I'm biased he's my fav).

How would they act around you? This was really hard to do for some reason but I already stated above that Phinks would hang out with you more and would be near you a lot, at first his affections towards you wouldn't be too different to how he acts towards others, for someone like him he's pretty good at hiding his infatuation, though over time he's starting to loose the "I have a crush on Y/N" allegations, the others would tease him a little for how he acts around you, he shows to have more sympathy and affection for you, like he's more handsy with you than everyone else, and is most definitely protective over you, he really is a girly girl, ain't he? Shalnark is a bit more happier when he's in your presence, he opens up with you way more than everyone else (when you two are alone ofc) and plays video games with you, he'll never give you a break and let you win though, he's just too good! (And competitive) May not be as protective as Phinks but he damn sure isn't gonna let you getting injured slide. Feitan once again is an interesting case, since he's come to terms with him being infatuated with you, the signs will be waaaay more subtle than Phinks', you would lowkey be left confused, like something tells you he likes you but you can't exactly prove he does, you're seen with him more often, he talks to you more, but in the beginning that's about it really, but overtime he gets more handsy with you like Phinks but not as much, he would most definitely tease you when he's in a good mood, giving you nicknames and such, and of course, very protective over you.

Confessing & Relationship

Finding out they all like you! When they start to see one of the other become more affectionate towards you, shit starts to get real, a scenario where Feitan sees you and Shalnark playing a newly released game, the both of you are so happy, laughing and all, and Feitan is hiding somewhere and just stares at the both of you, the worst scenarios are running through his mind, are they dating? do they like him? he wants to do something about it but can't because for one troupe members can't fight and two, he sees how happy you are, how can he ruin that? Another scenario is the old fashioned switcheroo where you and Feitan are getting a little too handsy with one another, he's got his hand on your thigh and your hand on his shoulder, Shalnark is now in Feitan's shoes, bad scenarios running through his brain thinking the two of you have a thing for each other, a part of him wants to step in but he can't. It's kind of subtle at first until everything starts to build up, they can see each other's jealousy seeping through, let's say Phinks was the one to save you from an attacker and Feitan wasn't quick enough, a glare is shot at Phinks' way as he sees the way he's holding you and reassuring you, and he catches it, he's confused, what the hell is going on? Another scenario where the troupe is having fun or whatnot and you and Shalnark are laughing about something a little too hard, he spots both Phinks and Feitan seething in jealousy, he's also confused! Until it all hits the three of them; they all like you!

Them finding out..... So, when they finally sit and conversate about the rising tensions between them to solve it, they come to the conclusion that you are the reason why, how will they go about this? They all have a goal in mind; a monogamous relationship with you, they are all trying their absolute hardest not to start anything between them, they were all on good terms until this very incident, they had no idea what to do about this, their own friends are crushing on the same person they want, and the tensions can only grow from here, and beyond this point things can go either north (good) or south (bad) really quickly. From here on out, they challenge themselves to impress you so that one of them finally gets you, an unspoken rule, until they realize that you like all three of them, and things grow extra confusing, they're happy because "yay they like me!" but also mad because "grrr they like him back!!" So everyone involved is kinda like.............. "omg??"

Poly? So, because everything came out, they all like you and you like all of them back, they're stuck here wondering how this will work, a polygamous relationship isn't even a thought to them because they just want to have you, and it may be one of your biggest fantasies, you eventually let it out that you want all of them at the same time and because of their confusion you would have to explain to them, they argue that it's not going to work well, since for one, they are all territorial when it comes to you, Feitan is most definitely the worst one since he's never exactly felt this feeling before and it's most likely his first crush and potential relationship, and since you're pretty special to him he doesn't want to lose you to someone else, in all honesty he'd probably kidnap you and hide you away from Phinks and Shalnark if you weren't apart of the troupe, so you can be his forever, yayyy, we love yanderes!!!! Phinks is in the middle, while yes he wants you to himself he doesn't want to admit that he would want to at least give it a chance, Shalnark is pretty chill, the idea of him having you to himself is nice also, but a polygamous relationship would probably solve all this conflict between them.

They Agree, so The Relationship Starts Here! So they decided that just for you, they would all agree to date you, of course at first this doesn't sit right with them since they want you to be with one of them, but they're also like... shit, I mean we all technically got what we wanted so we might as well make the best of it!

Small Miscellaneous Things

When they don't receive enough attention. Despite you all agreeing on a polygamous relationship, they all still get jealous whenever one is getting more attention than the other, when Phinks isn't receiving enough attention he gets more agitated, prone to more outbursts and will even straight up pull you away from the other, when Shalnark isn't receiving more attention, he would tap your shoulder or find ways to annoy you like hugging you or getting in your face, when Feitan isn't receiving more attention he finds ways to get yours by breaking something like a glass cup so that you can at least say a few words to him even if they aren't exactly the most kind, or staring at you for an ungodly amount of time to the point where you can physically feel his eyes on you, or like Phinks, will pull you away from the other so that you can be with him more.

🔞 What sex is like! Sex isn't too different from the usual, you can't really have group sex with them often since shit gets competitive real fast, they will go above and beyond to make you cum the hardest and scream the loudest, but when one or two of them so happens to be away, Feitan will make marks on your body to be territorial, so show the other two or to other people outside that he was the one who made that mark there, and it's even worse because he puts them in places that aren't exactly the easiest to cover, either it be a bite mark or a scar that spells out his initials. Shalnark will mark hickeys on your neck or will have photos of you having his cum dripping on your face or you laying beside him just completely slutted out and send them to the other two just for giggles, Phinks won't do anything outrageous (he can't you'll fucking die) but will have you wear his clothes afterwards to let the other two know when they get back who fucked them out ;).

Things start to get better! Overtime they start to realize that the petty fights over who gets to spend more time with you are meaningless, and that they all love you and you all love them, it takes them a while for them to come to these terms, but in the end, it gets better for the future, and everyone loves each other, movie nights aren't filled with who's chest you get to lay on anymore, sex isn't "who gets to make them cum harder" more, you don't feel as if you're some type of prized possession, you're now treated with actual respect and love and consideration, of course there's fights here and there like any other normal couple, but life is good.... for them anyway.

You were murdered! If they ever come into your house to find it ransacked, their first priority is to see if you're alright, they find your body laying in your room, devoid of all life, shit starts to get real, they never rest to look for the one who did this to you, since Shalnark has cameras hidden away around the house, it doesn't take long to find out who did it from hacking and such, and once they find them, it takes so much to not just rip their head to shreds and feed it to wild animals, Feitan wants to give them the worst of all of his tortures, and afterwards they die by their phinks blowing their head clean off their shoulders or shit maybe shalnark will do it.

#hunter x hunter #trouble trio x reader #phinks magcub #shalnark ryusei #feitan portor #phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #feitan x reader #hxh

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jazeswhbhaven · 5 months

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Hang Up Raphael, I'm gonna get to know him better ♱♡‿♡♰ (Christmas Miracle L-Card PROLOGUE Spoilers II)

Ooo he's feisty. But really he's telling you to check out the previous post before you continue ->

But if you've already checked it out, let's goo :D

*heavy breathing* Yeah uh just a moment I need to shower real quick, wait I forgot you like it dirty...uh yeah it's right here ready for you bring that hungry mouf hereeeeee *cough* OKAY so :D

We left off where he was critiquing the food from the stalls and then he turns to MC and says that little fucking line and it has me over here losing it because truly....I know he means more of like in a taunting way instead of sexual but come on Raph, pleassseeee

So Beel at this point is done with his shit lol and is saying if you aren't here for fun then clearly you're here to pick a fight. (intensely stares at Beel's sprite because his chest is looking mighty nice)

RAPHAEL WHAT

Like, I know this is just them speaking to each other on a enemies level, but something feels sexually charged here. "Want me to murder you?" "Yeah only if you let me punish you" Now my brain is swimming with enemies fucking each other and the dominance struggle and Raphael trying to top but Beel wins because he's simply just that much more powerful and stronger.

But, let me get back on task, sorry <3

So inbetween this time, Raphael challenges Beel by spitting a fucking meat bone in his direction with such force it nearly takes his head off. Which is pretty impressive if I say so myself. Amon gets trigger happy and defends his majesty but the bullets deflect? Stolas tries next bringing out a whole tommy gun and whelp all the bullets miss and start hitting the stalls instead. At this point, since I read this prologue already I understand why this is happening, though when I first read it I was like WAIT IS RAPHAEL INVINCIBLE??? Lmao Beel even brought out his whip and it didn't even get close to him. But again Beel is the one that points out that it's the christmas miracle that is stopping all the attacks. And MC is like OH WOW SO THATS WHY NOTHING IS WORKING

Raphael here tells MC to shut up and covers his ears (so neurodivergent coded, not liking sudden loud sounds lol) it's okay bby I'll get you some earmuffs.

So after it's pointed out that it's a christmas miracle, Raphael is excited and wants to test out how long they got until his attacks can go through. (A menace I swear) And Beel accepts that challenge

So Raphael points a skewer with meat on it toward Beel to mess with him and my bitey king does this sexy ass shit where he eats the entire fucking thing (and possibly Raph's hand if he chose)

I am not strong, the pervy thoughts are always in my head. "Shall we do it somewhere" is where my brain stopped processing and went back to the enemies fucking once more lmao

But it did have me wonder where Beel wanted to post up for this duel of theirs...and boy do we find out what he means...

And wham bam, Bael is escorting MC to the meeting place that Beel told him to come at night. Given that Bael is pissed off he didn't exactly say where he just gave some general ass description and they were walking around all night trying to figure out where he was lol

Oh shit, an S&M club???? Now we're talking!

In my longfic btw, I have my MC randomly visiting Avisos and I do have a specific club I headcanon that she would go to in Avisos and Amon was the one to take her and she ends up filling in for a dancer that called in and that's how Beel met her! It was sort of similar to the vibe of this club lights wise, but yeah just dancing and drinking and strippers, no kinky stuff.

But I wouldn't put it past Avisos to have a place like this and only because of the type of atmosphere it has. This is why this place would be fucking dangerous for me because I would be in and out of those clubs like mad just observing. IRL though, there are such things at Fetish Balls and what not and I don't attend those, mostly because it's for a certain crowd and meh while I do enjoy talking about kinks I do not actively participate in them with others.

Continuing on though

I'm crying because Bael is just like "Oh you haven't been?" As if someone is just gonna be visiting these kinds of clubs all the time. Surely it's normal for them but come on Bael this is adorable lol

MC does show interest in wanting to go to one and I like that it shows a bit of that pervy character that's been missing a bit. Like ngl for the most part in the main story MC has been very sheepish when I'm wanting like full on "I'm always fucking lewd like lets fuck rn pretty much" and maybe I'm putting too much expectation on MC but come on...if canon wise MC is a woman....what's so bad about her being FORWARDLY horny all the time? Show that to me please. No holding back.

Moving on,

Bael and MC go toward the commotion in the back of the club and we find out they got my bby Raphael all strapped up

Like he was struggling so hard he was creating marks and bruises from the chains on himself. Even in Michael's story he didn't struggle too much, he was just kinda sitting here with minimal resistance. It makes me wonder if between these two angels, one just knows how to conserve energy and the other is just fucking wild.

Ooop!

Well at least we know he still has that murderous energy.

Lmao fucking Beel. So he's been hitting Raph with this whip I'm guessing, you know the kind you use during impact play, and Raph is not having a great time.

Bael runs over to Beel to chew him out though about how he didn't really give specifics on where'd he be and Beel is just like :D heyyyy bestie, you're late tho.

Lmao see? lmao Bael is so fucking done with his shit.

So Beel further explains how they got Raph in there in the first place, stating that he hasn't been able to attack them so with the devils in mass numbers they were able to pin him down and drag him to the club where he was throwing a fucking fit

And Beel got the idea that well since you're already tied up might as well play with you for a little bit. Lol

This is so hot of him, I swear this prologue is hitting me on all fucking sides because not only do we have Raphael acting like a cocky bastard, we have Beel acting like a sexy bitch and my coochie can't take much more of this. My body will detach from me at this rate.

Also yeah Raphael clearly fucked up the store, he probably knew what goes on in an S&M club and didn't want to go in and the funny part is since I saw that one comic, it's possible that this triggers memories of him walking in on God and Solomon bumping booties and perhaps doing a bit of kinky things so he doesn't want to be around that because it makes him go rabid.

But that's me having my theories.

Raphael was going on about how he's gonna give everyone divine punishment once he gets out of those chains yadda ya whatever bby please keep barking at me while I call you a good boy <3

He is cute MC, I'm glad we agree on this. He's just being a brat.

I love Bael. He's having a great time watching an enemy be the subject of humiliation. Again we are getting into those questionable themes of dubcon/noncon, degradation, public humiliation, etc., and some of this may very well be too much for most players. Btw if at any time any of these subjects bother anyone, please remind me to tag them appropriately so you can avoid any posts that have this mentioned if you still enjoy my other rambles and such!! I'd like to make sure I'm being respectful of boundaries.

Back to the h0rni..... So Beel invited MC to play around with Raph first and MC plays the whole "who me?" act and Beel is like nuh uh none of that you know what I mean....and he starts doing this?????

What do you wanna do with MC/me???? *nervously sweats*

PACK IT THE FUCK UP IM SWALLOWING HIS COCK IN FRONT OF EVERYONE IN THAT CLUB DAMMIT

I am so fucking serious that they make Beel so deliciously lewd....like it's bad enough Satan and Mammon carry their own energy of horny, but this devil right fucking here is overflowing with it. The fact that MC is always fucking wet around him is proof in the pudding.

The whole S&M club will have to wait on me playing with my angel bby because Beel has been teasing this entire prologue and I'm about to bust it's not even funny.

But, alas MC is agreeing to play with Raphael...and with the gifts that Beel gave them for christmas as an idea. But alas...

Raph is not having it...not one fucking bit lol

I'd like to be delulu that he's just being bratty, but I'm really interested in the story so I can see how it is that we arouse him because he's so against it at first....maybe there's just something about MC's touch that the angels are unable to withstand? And also his card shows those piercings and since Beel is known for his piercings....I wonder if he did that to him. But I'll never know unless someone shares spoilers of the story on here or on reddit or something T^T

pstttt if you have his card somehow and don't mind sharing with me I'd be forever grateful

So it cuts off here on Raph's prologue which honestly I think ran a bit longer than Mike's, but at the same time I noticed they didn't show his sprite dressed up like his card and I wonder if it's possibly because it will show up later like that with him wearing the ball gag and stuff. I'm happy for you all to sit with me through another prologue playthru <3 There's more to post (these take me well over an hour to create phew...I'm still working on Beel's event and that may be a 3 parter tbh because of how long it is) See you next time (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡-your lovely admin

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb raphael #game playthrus🖤#whb event #raphael blurbs👼#beel is so hot in this i swear #you'll be seeing a lot of beel brain rot in this post

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fazedlight · 7 months

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Hazy (fluffy S3 reveal... sort of)

“Thank you for coming, Kara,” Lena said, rising from her desk to approach Kara, as the blonde stepped into Lena’s office.

“Of course,” Kara said, her brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

It had been a strange call, from Lena earlier that day - the CEO had nervously requested that Kara meet her in her office right away, a surprising request for a bright Saturday afternoon.

The timing couldn’t have been worse, either - Kara and the DEO were still looking for the worldkillers, fresh on the heels of Purity’s escape and Pestilence’s new plague. But hearing the nervousness in Lena’s voice, Kara decided to fly over and see what was wrong.

“I need to ask you a few questions,” Lena said, leaning against her desk, arms crossed in thought.

“Okay?” Kara said curiously.

“Do you… ever lose chunks of time?” Lena asked.

“Chunks of time?” Kara responded, confused.

“Do you ever arrive somewhere, with only hazy memories of how you got there?” Lena asked. “Maybe you wake up, when you don’t remember going to sleep?”

“I-” Kara’s eyes darted between Lena’s. “No, I don’t lose track of time.”

Lena eyed the blonde, frowning in thought.

“Lena,” Kara said, shifting slightly. “What’s going on?”

Lena watched Kara for a moment longer. It seemed she was weighing some sort of decision - which didn’t last long, as she sighed, her mind made up. “I need to tell you something. And I know it will sound crazy…”

Kara tilted her head.

A small breath. “... I think you’re Supergirl.”

Kara froze, jaw dropping, eyes widening. She knows?, Kara thought. How long has she known?

“I know, I know it sounds crazy,” Lena said, standing up straight again to make her way around her desk. She typed briefly at her keyboard, before turning the computer monitor around to face Kara. Two photos were projected side-by-side - one of her as Kara Danvers, one of her as… Supergirl. “But your facial portions and shape match exactly - along with your eye color, your hair, even the scar above your brow,” Lena said.

“I-” Kara’s mind ground to a halt. Why is she trying to convince me I’m Supergirl?!

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Lena continued. “But I think… I think you and Sam might be similar.”

“Sam?” Kara squeaked, now more confused than ever.

“Remember how she’s been losing time?” Lena said. “I’ve determined the cause - her cells aren’t human. I’m able to trigger a response to cause them to shift, and I think she may be kryptonian.” “A response?”

“I believe kryptonians may form alter egos under the yellow sun. These egos occasionally take over, perform heroic acts. Yours and Superman’s would be benevolent, of course. But in Sam’s case-”

And that was the moment it snapped together. She thinks I have amnesia when I’m Supergirl, Kara thought, her mind finally racing with the possibilities that Lena was proclaiming, with Sam’s recent issues. If Sam is kryptonian… “Reign,” Kara said, holding back a shiver. “You’re saying Sam is Reign.”

“Yes,” Lena said. Kara watched as the brunette reached into a drawer, pulling out a small device - larger than the alien detector device, but strikingly similar. Lena put the device on her desk, looking up at Kara again. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But… if I can get a reading of your human cloaking cells from you, and if I can trigger Supergirl into appearing, I think I can use the data to help Sam suppress Reign-”

“You don’t want me in your lab?”

“I…” Lena bit her lip nervously. “No. Supergirl would be uncomfortable there.”

“What do you mean?”

Lena shifted nervously. “I’ve been making kryptonite, to keep Sam in check.”

“Kryptonite?!” Kara said, feeling the panic bubble up in her throat. “I would never hurt her,” Lena said emphatically, her voice growing a touch desperate. “Or you. I swear, Kara. I’m just trying to help you both. Especially since Sam’s alter ego might kill you.”

Kara stared. And stared. She’s trying to save me, came the thought, cutting through the haze. There was panic, yes - Kara didn’t like that Lena had kryptonite. But Lena thought that Kara didn’t know herself… and moreso, Lena thought that using Kara’s data might help save both Kara and Sam. Rao, she has no idea.

It was time, Kara realized. It had long been time - but with everything she just learned, with Lena so close to the truth… “I know I’m Supergirl, Lena. She’s not an alter ego. She’s me.”

Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion, a slow draw of breath as she processed Kara’s words. “Oh,” Lena said. “You’re… you’re not like Sam?”

“Reign isn’t kryptonian,” Kara explained. “She was engineered by a secret group of kryptonians. To kill humans. And there are two others.”

“I see,” Lena said, searching Kara’s eyes. It was an odd interplay of emotions on her face - confusion, concern, worry.

Kara smiled, knowing Lena hadn’t expected her to be conscious of being Supergirl. She knew she was a bit of a dork - the last person someone would expect to be a superhero. “Will you work with us?” Kara asked.

“Us?” Lena asked.

“The DEO has been trying to capture the worldkillers and deprogram them. We… had one escape, so far,” Kara said tiredly. “I think we could use your help.”

Kara watched the tension melt out of Lena’s shoulders, the small relief of the brunette realizing that she hadn’t lost a friend - she had gained an ally. “Of course,” Lena said.

Kara smiled back, before reaching down to her phone to call the DEO.

-----------------------------------------

Inspired by this fan question from a Katie interview in 2018.

#I saw this video and manically wrote/edited this in 4hrs #so hopefully it doesn't suck #was not originally planning to do this prompt but here we are #remember when I said I wasn't doing supercorptober?#I think this is my 2nd of 4 prompts?? anyway I am a damn liar #supercorp #supercorp ficlet #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #mel writes ficlets #hazy

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tommysversion · 1 year

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Breathe Through It (Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: you have a panic attack. Joel helps.

CWs: Descriptions of mental health conditions (namely PTSD, but can be read as any anxiety based disorder with panic attacks) / graphic description of a panic attack / some adult language/ references to past trauma (nothing explicitly described but inferred).

Notes: This is entirely self indulgent, I have pretty severe PTSD and this is the coping mechanism of the day. Implied to be F!Reader but it can be read as gender neutral.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tag List: @joelsgirl & @mydailyhyperfixations

You don't feel it happen until it does. You've heard that for some people, their panic attacks build up, like the world's shittiest tidal wave, steadily looming over them.

Yours aren't like that. You'll be fine one minute, then something will trigger it. A sound. A place. A thought. Someone with a similar sounding name. A nightmare.

You get less than ten seconds warning, if you're lucky, before it hits you like a tonne of bricks and you freeze. It doesn't matter where you are, what you're doing, your chest constricts and you get tunnel vision. It's like you're a spectator in your own body, dissociated so hard you can't tell left from right.

The worst thing is when you lose your ability to speak. It doesn't happen every time, but when it does it's like someone's squeezing sand down your throat, completely taking away your ability to ask for help. As if you even could. You hate drawing attention to yourself at the best of times, let alone when you're so vulnerable.

Which is why it's annoyingly inconvenient that this is happening now. You haven't exactly been hiding your panic attacks from Joel, but you haven't directly talked about it with him. You know he has his own problems, far more trauma than he lets on. You know it isn't a competition, but you don't want to burden him with your anxiety.

Deep down, you know that it wouldn't be a burden. That he loves you, but it's hard to remember that when trauma brain is the one at the wheel.

You're not sure what it is this time. You're just walking through town with him, heading home after a drink, after a shift on the guard tower together, when someone, of all things, laughs. The laugh isn't quite right, but it sounds close enough that you freeze up, breath catching in your throat. Fuck, you're maybe ten feet from home. Why now?

Joel gets maybe two steps ahead of you before he realises you're no longer keeping pace, turns to say something, maybe crack a joke about you being a lightweight, but the comment dies on his lips the moment he sees your expression.

Most people think you just space out. Think it's a personality quirk or just a thing that you do. Joel knows better. He knows better because Ellie's described what he looks like when he has a panic attack, recognises when he's about to have one these days.

So it's immediately fucking clear as day to him what's happening.

He doesn't bother asking what's set it off; knows that there isn't always a clear answer, and that even asking, reminding you of the trigger, could just make it worse.

Joel hates being touched when he's having an episode of his own. Knows it triggers his fight response, that he'll start swinging. He doesn't think that will apply to you, but he doesn't know for certain, and that's all that keeps him from wrapping his arms tight around you.

Instead, he takes you by the hand, leads you the last few steps to the house, closes the door behind you, flips the light on.

"'S okay. Look, we're good. Door's closed. Nobody's coming after us."

You can barely hear him, heart pounding in your ears, breaths coming out ragged like you've just run a marathon.

"Hey. Hey. If you can, look at me, okay?"

He doesn't sound angry, or tired, and it's not a demand. This voice is the one he uses when Ellie's sick, or you're sick, or when he's reassuring one of the kids in town that he's not remotely mad that they stole an extra slice of pie when he was meant to be on food watch duty.

Joel is always soft spoken, but this is different. It makes you feel safe, not enough to pull you out of it, because that's not how it works, but safe enough to look at him, to focus as best you can on the dark depths of his eyes.

"There you are." He goes to let go of your hand but you cling on to him, slump against his chest, needing the warmth and solidness of him to ground you.

That's all the permission he needs, wrapping his arms tight around you.

"I've got you. You're safe, I promise."

You know that. Deep down, you know that the people who hurt you are far away. That they'll never touch you, control you, hurt you, ever again. You know that you're safe here, in this house, with Joel.

He rubs soothing circles on your back, kisses the top of your head, relieved when you start breathing properly again, coming down from the adrenaline.

"You don't need to hide these from me, darlin', I know how they feel."

"That's why I didn't want you to deal with it." You manage to get out; your throat is dry as hell, the guilt already forming.

"Deal with it? What, like it's a big issue? I'd rather be able to help. That's what I'm here for. We do this together, remember?"

"But it's..."

"Nothing. Don't you dare call yourself a burden or anything similar. You've been through so much. Ain't a competition. But you've gotta let me in, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" You hate how small your voice is, how distant you still feel. Even if the worst is over, you'll still feel horrible for a few more hours, trapped by your own thoughts.

"I promise. Breathe through it, baby. I'm not going anywhere. We can stay here all night if it helps you feel safe."

You exhale. You do feel safer, standing there with his arms locked around you.

"Will it always be like this?" You hate yourself for asking, but you know he's been dealing with these a lot longer than you have.

"Yes and no," Joel says finally. "You learn to sit with them. They don't suck any less, they're still fuckin' horrible, but you get your support, and you'll learn to sit with them."

You nod against his chest, finally feeling a little better. At least better enough that it doesn't feel like your limbs are full of cement.

"What can I do to help?"

You consider for a minute. "Can we have coffee? Maybe take a shower?"

You always feel a cold sweat come over you after the worst of it passes. Joel nods, gives you one last reassuring squeeze.

"Course we can. Whatever you need, darlin', I'm always gonna be here for you."

He lets go of you to move to the kitchen, but keeps hold of your hand, knows without asking that you still need the reassurance of touch.

"Hey, Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, baby. C'mon, let me take care of you."

It's not a miracle cure. No such thing exists, after all, but having someone who loves you so much, who you know will support you through it? It makes all the difference in the world.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff

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trans-queen-administrator · 9 months

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During the talk with Phir Sē, it comes up that he has a daughter when he tells Taylor about how keenly aware he is of what he could be sacrificing to kill Behemoth.

And it's very odd to me that she's a hero, when her father is one of the men so monstrous that he's used as evidence for why the PRT should stick around. It's almost like the stereotypical superhero show plot where the plucky protagonist hero learns their dad is Doctor Evilman or whatever, but this is Worm. Later in the conversation Phir Sē reveals that he sacrificed family before in a similar scenario

And I can't help but feel that him sacrificing his wife and sons is connected to his daughter being a hero? Like imagine being her, and seeing your dad refuse to save the rest of your family because of the greater good. He could effortlessly step backwards in time but he stands there while their corpses cool instead. That could definitely crack a rift between them and cause his daughter to join the heroes in a desperate attempt to prove that you can save everyone. Hell, I could even see her dad letting her family die being a trigger event. And she's specifically one of the bright and popular heroes, one of the campy flashy ones like Mouse Protector. How much of that is because she can't bear to let herself be anything less than the ideal of a hero, because she can't stomach the thought of being someone who has to make a sacrifice like her father? Phir Sē says he'll live the rest of his life down in his bunker mourning her if he fails, but I think he's already been doing that. He's been consumed by the guilt of who he left in the past and how that ruined his only tie left, and he wants to do something that justifies his existence. If he kills Behemoth, the world celebrates, people are saved, and maybe his daughter will talk to him again. If not, he keeps living as he always has, alone and crippled by the weight of his actions.

I wonder how he felt, in his last moments. The bomb didn't kill the Endbringer, and Behemoth hunted down his bunker and killed him. He had to have seen that it survived, and while maybe he didn't fail so hard he vaporized the country, he didn't redeem himself, he didn't save anyone. He'll never know that his actions weakened Behemoth enough for Scion to finish the job, from his perspective he lost. I wonder if his daughter survived, and if she knows what he did to tip the scales of the battle. Would she even mourn him, assuming he caused her trigger and she knows he let her family die?

He liked Weaver because she reminded him of himself with her ruthless pragmatism and ability to make the hard choices, while also reminding him of his daughter with her idealistic nature. I think he saw a version of himself in her, one that didn't end up isolated in a bunker with no family left. One that has hope and still kept the humanity he feels he lost. She talks to him about working together with others, communicating, and he doesn't think it's something that's possible, he thinks humanity is a "wretched, petty species" and that infighting and lack of coordination would prevail even against an Endbringer. And I think he's right in thinking Taylor is like a younger version of him, because that's exactly what happens during Gold Morning until she makes them work together. He would feel vindicated, seeing Khepri.

Honestly I really wish he survived, he's such an interesting character and I would love to see more of him beyond a single random Tohu face. Most of this is headcanon but like, I think it fits pretty well, so who knows maybe it's the intended subtext.

#worm #parahumans #Phir Sē #and his unnamed daughter #gosh I just analyzed way too much about a character that doesn't even have dialouge #or a description #or anything beyond a mention #also ty to the person who wanted Phir Sē posts I really enjoyed rereading his chapters and thinking about it #what a good minor character #ramble #also #I will kill those people who make me smile and feel more human than I am. I will grieve their deaths #and then I will take that gamble again #what a great quote

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wintersoldiersoul · 7 months

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Hi.

Saw you are taking requests.

I got shingles the weekend close to my birthday, i confuse it with allergy because i am allergic to basically anything and then on my 24th birthday i got that it was actually shingles, doctor told me that my immune system went down and that is why i got it. Before that i was under so much stress because of work that i developed burn out and had to quit my job (literally spent months, weeks of my life visiting the emergency ward because i kept getting sick due to stress and burn out) probably that Triggered the shingles.

Could you write something with Bucky in which the reader suffers similar sh**? I just need comfort from my fave character 😭

If you dont feel comfortable is fine, i understand 😁

KUDOS!

I'm so sorry you went through that! I hope you are much better now. I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible (I texted my friend in med school LOL) but I am definitely not a doctor so if some stuff isn't accurate, just pretend it is.

You threw your hair up into a ponytail to get it out of your face. Hours slumped over at your desk weren't doing any favors. You grabbed the energy drink and chugged it to prevent your eyes from closing. You were almost done with this assignment. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself.

Working full time and being a grad student was taking a toll on you. You spent every day from 9-5 in your office and every night from 6-10 in classes. You crammed homework in anywhere you could, which often meant staying up most of the night. It was approaching 4am, now.

The office door creaked open and Bucky strolled in, sleep still filling his eyes. “Baby,” he sighed. “Come to bed.” He had woken up and the bed was cold without you beside him. He walked over to you, kissing your forehead.

“Can’t,” you mumbled without looking up from your computer.

“You gotta get some sleep, darlin’.”

You sneezed, still typing away. “I’m fi-” your words were interrupted by another sneeze.

Bucky stood, looking at you with a stern expression. “Well look at that. You’re getting sick.”

You waved your hand. “No, I’m not. It’s just allergies,” you said, sniffling. “You know this time of year is bad.” The past few months, you had been sick on and off multiple times. A cold, a small fever, you were sick more than you weren’t.

“Honey, please just get some sleep. You haven’t slept in days.” He was practically begging. He knew how much stress you were under and getting no sleep wasn’t going to help. He was extremely worried about you.

“Just give me 10 more minutes, okay?” You compromised.

“Fine. But I’m sitting right here and setting a timer. The second it goes off, I’m carrying you to bed.”

He did exactly that, throwing you over his shoulder when you didn’t get up immediately at the ring of his phone. Despite the intense amounts of caffeine you had consumed, you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

Bucky woke up before you the next morning, smiling at your sleeping form. Your hair was sprawled over your face and he gently pushed it away to kiss your cheek. But as soon as he moved the strands, he noticed that your cheeks were flushed. He put the back of his flesh hand on your skin. Heat radiated off of your face before he even touched you. You were definitely sick.

He got up, being careful not to wake you. He left the bedroom returning a few minutes later with water, Advil, and a thermometer. You groaned as your alarm rang, sending shooting pains into your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes. You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached, your throat was on fire, and even your skin hurt.

“You’re sick.” Bucky stated, as if he was informing you.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at the pain in every cell of your body. He smiled softly, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“I got you some water and Advil. Can I take your temperature, doll?”

You nodded and he put the thermometer under your tongue. He looked it, eyes widening. “Shit baby, that’s not good. Your temp is 102.8. How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” you pouted.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised. That’s a really high fever, baby. I think we should go to the doctor.”

You groaned, not wanting to move. You felt so horrible that the thought of having to get up and out of bed was a nightmare. You felt like you couldn’t stay awake, eyes closing no matter how hard you tried to keep them open. “Can’t move,” you whispered, coughing slightly. “My whole body hurts so much. Just wanna sleep.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. In his mind, sickness meant calling a doctor. He had spent so many years worrying about Steve back in the 40s, sitting with him while he got looked at. He still wasn’t used to how things were today. The google search he did on his phone told him that if your fever went above 103, to take you to the hospital. In his opinion, you were close enough that he wanted to rush you there right now, but he could see how exhausted you were.

“Alright, rest for now. But if it gets worse we’re going to the hospital.” You didn’t even hear him as you had already fallen back to sleep.

You woke up in a daze, cold sweat clinging to your body. You were shivering aggressively, shaking the entire bed. “Babe?” Bucky said, noticing you were awake. “You cold?”

You nodded, teeth chattering. He quickly grabbed you another blanket, wrapping you up like a burrito. He wrapped his arms around you, hoping that his body heat would help, too. One of the major perks of dating a super soldier was that the chances of getting him sick were very slim. He held you as close as possible, trying to keep you warm. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, voice dripping with sympathy.

“Can you take your temperature again for me?” He asked after your shivering had subsided a little bit. You put the thermometer back in your mouth, waiting for the beep. Bucky took it from you, heart stopping as he looked. “I know you don’t wanna move, but we gotta go to the ER. You’re at 103.6. That’s really really bad.”

You groaned. You felt so horrible, his words barely even registered in your mind. He picked you up and carried you to the car, whispering words of encouragement along the way. You closed your eyes again, finding it physically impossible to stay awake. Bucky held your hand the entire car ride before picking you up and carrying you into the ER. He let you sleep as you waited, positioning your head on his shoulder. He constantly watched you to make sure you were still breathing. He didn’t wanna wake you until he absolutely had to.

When you were finally called in, he shook you gently. “Can you walk?” He asked. You weakly nodded and he helped you to your feet letting you lean on his body as you went to the exam room.

The doctor hooked you up to an IV immediately to hydrate your sick body as they examined you.

“How have you been sleeping?” She asked you.

“Um, not great,” you answered, voice sounding raspy. “I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“She hasn’t slept in a week,” Bucky interjected. “She’s been getting sick a lot these past few months since she started grad school.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay that’s very good to know.” She proceeded to ask you a few more questions and then said, “Did you have chicken-pox as a kid?”

You nodded. “Yeah. When I was 5.”

She carefully rolled up your shirt, revealing a rash on your side. “It looks like you have shingles. The stress you’ve been under seems to have weakened your immune system which is why you’ve been getting sick so much. It makes sense that with all of that the virus would come back now.”

Bucky held your hand. He was relieved that you had a diagnosis but of course he was terrified. Back in his time, that would have been a death sentence. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Buck,” you answered.

“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “We’re gonna keep her here for at least tonight because your fever is so high. But you will be okay.”

Bucky exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” You asked the doctor. You were so exhausted.

“Yes. I’ll let you rest,” she smiled before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry you feel so shitty,” Bucky said, holding your hand. “Will this make you take it easy?”

“I don’t know what I can do to change anything,” you said with tear filled eyes. “Literally the only time I have to get things done is in the middle of the night.”

He looked into your eyes. He wanted to help you so badly that his heart ached. He wanted you to be happy and healthy. “What if you quit your job?” He suggested. “You only took this as a temporary thing anyway. I know you don’t wanna stay there when you’re done with school.”

“I can’t not have a job, Bucky,” you argued.

“Baby,” he looked in your eyes. “Do you have any clue how much the Avengers pay me?” He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t need a job.” You opened your mouth to argue, ready to tell him that you didn’t need his money. “I know you’re your own person and you can make your own money. And one day, with that brain, you will make so much all on your own. But baby, you’re drowning. You’ve been sick more days than not the past few months. Please, let me take care of you. Just for a bit. I’d never tell you what to do and if you really wanna stay, you can. But you’re killing yourself, darling. And I can’t just sit back and watch as it happens. Just think about it. Please.”

You lazily smiled. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But not right now. Right now, I need to sleep.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

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