#((SORRY IF THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND I JUST HAD THIS SPECIFIC IDEA/VISION))

[thebahwrites]

The prompt for IceMav was "AU where flowers grow on people. A person has their own representative flowers (most commonly grows from/around the head area) and other flowers grow on the body like tattoos according to flower language and their feelings/emotions. Tdlr: human emotion bouquets". 

I liked this one a lot and ended up thinking about it, warming up to write for the day so here's my take on it! (Not exactly the details in the prompt but hope you still like it!)

IceMav + (Personal) Flowers (Also it's long as balls so, cut halfway!)

It annoys Tom to no end.

It gets on every single one of his nerves, like he's a whole burn injury exposed raw. No relief, no cold water to sooth it. Maverick's eyes on him feel like an insistent pressure over those sensitive nerves.

And the worst part is that it shows. He can't help the showing. Suppressing feelings and emotions works externally and it works when they're all dressed and covered. But in the close quarters of TOPGUN's locker room, Iceman can't avoid the eyes.

Those damning green eyes that seemed to track his every move with a challenge beyond words.

But Mitchell won't say anything, despite being so good at running his mouth every other moment, he won't say anything. He'll be a brat and smirk, mouth something off to Goose just outside of Ice's ear range and the eyes will be right back on him.

Which, of course, in return, makes the stems of his flower markings crawl over his shoulders and arms - and if Tom were any less careful over himself, he knows they'd be sprouting thorns in no time.

What a pain.

It annoys him even further that Maverick wears his heart on his sleeve, quite literally. That green stems and assorted flowers paint his skin ever so shamelessly, like a living garden, the other pilot's back is painted with golden California poppies, pink desert roses, red dahlias and all sorts of small white daisies. Maverick is unbothered by the markings because that's all they remained. Markings. A public garden of human emotion.

Unlike everyone else, except for Tom, Maverick's flowers never sprouted.

Ever. Even when his arms, back and chest were covered in the drawings. And Tom, who'd so carefully keep himself to bare, thorny stems, hated it. So he had no idea what the other man's actual flowers were, they seemed to be all of them.

But as life and fate would have, Tom would eat those feelings and regret every single one of them. Standing right outside that same locker room, now in silence, he can't help the way his own skin crawls.

Stepping inside it's the smell that reaches Iceman first and it's so surprising he has to consciously keep himself from gasping. It's not one he's felt before, soft, fresh, almost like spring rain. Looking down, it's... blue petals littering all the way inside.

Like a heartbreaking breadcrumb trail leading in, those petals pave the way to a Maverick sitting inside, half dressed, G-suit at the waist, hands nervously carding around his neck and head, grabbing poor flower sprouts and crushing them mercilessly. His arms and shoulder, where they could be seen, a barren wasteland of markings. Nothing but unmarred skin. All of that garden now dead. Maverick wouldn't cry but he didn't have to. Iceman swallows thickly, standing there nervously, realizing he shouldn't be watching this.

Yet he won't pry his eyes away. He can't.

Looking down at one of those ripped buds that apparently had barely escaped its creator's wrath and grief, he leans in to pick it up. A myosotis. No. Tom had known that little flower by another name.

Forget-me-not.

He'd have expected Maverick's signature flower to be something vibrant and exceptional and annoying like him. Maybe dangerous even. A red rose. Maybe something poisonous. Not the little blue scorpion grass flower. It almost makes him want to laugh.

He doesn't. Stepping inside, instead, sitting silently besides Maverick, lips pressed together. There's no words for this kind of grief and his own brand of guilt. Tom catches Pete side eyeing him, wet, black hair spilling down over his bloodshot eyes.

"...what's the name?" The question comes from him and Ice doesn't understand at first.

He's surprised by Maverick's hand coming up, shakily and reaching behind his ear, plucking a single, lonely white flower.

Oh.

"Hellebore− Wait, Maverick... don't− don't touch it− it's−" "Poisonous." Maverick says in quiet awe, holding the white flower ever so gently in his palm. He brings it up, up so close to his face, ever so gently smelling the flower. "...winter rose, right? Suits you."

Iceman realizes, right there and then, sitting side-by-side with Maverick, watching the crown of deeply blue myosotis crawl around his head and die, shedding petals everywhere that he's a goner.

And Pete Mitchell was holding his heart right there, carelessly, in the palm of his hand.

[mistydeyes]

Sorry to bother and I completely understand if you dont have time or if you're busy but I saw this tiktok and was like worth a shot to ask, if you could write something kinda angst with it.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT82P5PHR/

OKAY when i saw this tiktok it literally made my jaw drop like this idea is so good and also so angsty. this my first time ever writing something like this ahh but thank you so so much for requesting!!

behind closed doors

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: When all signs lead to you as the mole, the 141 demands answers and they will get it whatever way necessary.

read part ii here! and part iii!

pairing: Taskforce 141 x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"No, no, no," Ghost whispered in a sickly soft tone, "Keep your eyes open, Eclipse." He held a gloved hand to your face and sharply pulled your leaning head upright. "Please," you hoarsely coughed out, "I don't know anything." Your eyes stung with salty tears as he coldly looked back into your eyes. "We all know that's bullshit," he spat before turning from you and looking at a variety of tools at his disposal. You gritted your teeth and shut your eyes in preparation. Each member had their own method of "questioning" from Gaz's psychological mind games and sensory deprivation to the degradation and waterboarding methods from Price, you were thrown into hysterics after each session. You had long forgotten the comfort of a warm meal by now as you were fed the bare minimum and received the smallest of water droplets. While your limbs were sore from the restraints and the small burns from the cigarettes and cigars from your former team, you always feared when Ghost was in the room. The cruelty you had endured these last few days specifically from your lieutenant made you feel like you had gone to hell. 

You heard a variety of tools clatter around as you tried to think of a paradise far from the one you were in. A week ago, your team was compromised on a mission with an assassination initiative. After the dust settled, the internal hard drives, records of communications, and hidden listening devices lead to you as the mole. Despite your protests, you were dragged into an all too familiar area. "Open your eyes, Eclipse," Ghost demanded but you shook your head violently. Your insolence was met with a hard punch to the nose and as blood dripped slowly onto your bruised face, you saw in your clouded vision the violent sparks of a taser. You couldn't help but sob upon seeing him tease you with the device, activating it close to your face and mocking you with it. "Just tell us where Makarov is and we'll let you go," he comforted. You shook violently in protest before you were sent teeth gritting and toes gripping into a violent shock sent to your abdomen. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING." you protested but the assault continued with your screams becoming enveloped into the soundproof walls. Despite being a trained soldier, there was nothing that could prepare you for this. Every time you fell out of consciousness, you would wake to his cold eyes staring back at you. "I'm getting Soap," he said with the same nauseating tone, "I think it's time you get some rest."

You shuttered and tried to hold in the tears that burned into the various cuts on your face and chest. When Soap entered the room with a bitter demeanor, you tried to scream in a fruitless attempt at ceasing this ordeal. "No one can hear you," he joked before he violently pushed your chair backward and you fell in a painful thud on the floor. "What are you going to do with me?" you whispered in fear before you felt him turn the chair back over with your face hitting the cold concrete. Before he could do anything more, there was a knock at the door. Ghost and Soap looked at one another before Ghost opened the door to reveal Price and Gaz with horrified expressions. "Yes, Captain?" Ghost asked impatiently before Price gestured for Soap to come closer to the group. While your ears rang in pain from the sudden movements, you knew you heard what your captain said. "It's not them," he uttered and you could see everyone's stained boots turn to your beaten, bruised, and broken form. Price and Gaz rushed to undo your binds, screaming apologies and promises for treatment. You couldn't help but have a tired smile on your bleeding lip as you looked at Ghost. Despite your gaze on his, he couldn't bring himself to look back at you. He only knew that the hands covered in blood, your blood, were irreversible.

[lvlyghost]

pairings: simon riley x f!reader

summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.

wc: 1.1k

tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.

a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!

By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.

Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.

"Where's the girl?"

The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.

"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.

"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.

Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.

"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"

Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

"No. Guess she'll show up."

She has to.

Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.

Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.

-

Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.

It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.

Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.

So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.

Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.

You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.

The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.

After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.

With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.

You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.

"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.

"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."

And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.

Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."

"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"

Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.

"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."

"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.

"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.

"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."

"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"

"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

[luimagines]

You Call to Him in Your Sleep Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Twilight, Four and Legend

Content under the cut!

Twilight

Twilight had taken the form of Wolfie on an impulse on one of your worse nights. You had specifically waited for everyone to fall asleep before you let your cry a a little ways away from the group.

You had calmed down someone when Woflie had entered your vision, latching onto the creature like a lifeline. You silently cried into his fur, pulling on in when you felt as if he wasn’t close enough and wiping your tears on the same fur when it occurred to you to do so. 

He didn’t mind, it wasn’t forever. 

When you had exhausted yourself, he stayed near and allowed himself to be your cuddle buddy for the night. 

He didn’t know you talk in your sleep.

“I don’t want...”

“No... You jump.”

“...ehehe....”

“Monkey.”

He had no idea what you could be dreaming about to make you talk in your sleep. Twilight wasn’t sure if he should find it amusing or not. On one hand, yes, it was absolutely nonsense. On the other hand, it was making it harder for him to sleep considering you were talking right into his ear.

Twilight huffed and sighed, trying to get comfortable on the forest floor. He’ll just have to resign to his fate. He’s not sleeping tonight. Maybe he can hop on Epona and have one of the boys pull her along as he power naps.

“Link.”

His ears perk up and he turns to face you.

No, you’re still sleeping. After a beat passes, he lays back down on the ground. It’s fine. Besides, it could be any one of them. There’s literally nine of them. IT would be silly to think that you would be calling him specifically-

“Twilight please!” 

You’re pouting.

His tail does not start wagging behind him. It doesn’t, he swears it.

The look on your face doesn’t help you in the slightest. He knows that look. You look only marginally annoyed. If you had been awake, Twilight thinks that you’d be doing the equivalent of puppy eyes. And you only use your puppy eyes on his when he’s teasing you.

He didn’t think he’d tease you even your dreams. The thought makes him laugh.

Maybe he should go easier on your for the next few days. You can’t seem to get a break from him even when you sleep. Poor thing.

He lays back down with higher spirit. Cute.

Or he could keep teasing you when you wake up again. Serves you right for keeping him up all night with your talking. Fair is fair after all.

Twilight finally manages to sleep for a little bit. It’s... actually quite nice being in your arms like this.

Four

Four didn’t want to sound creepy but he liked watching you sleep. You were so peaceful. If he looked hard enough, he’d swear you were smiling.

There was a single blade of wayward grass on your face that he took great pains to move away without waking you up.

You moved.

He froze.

You didn’t seem to notice that he was incredibly close to you or that you had anything on your face to begin with. You rolled over from your side to your back and let out a soft sigh.

Four sighed without and leaned back, taking the blade of grass as he went.

“Sorry.” He says under his breath for disturbing your peaceful rest. “I didn’t meant to do that.” 

“...Link...” You sigh and your face twists into something negative. Four can’t tell if it’s worry or annoyance.

Either way, he flinches and slowly turns back to you as he tosses the blade of grass over his shoulder. “Yes? What is it, Sweetheart?”

The pet name drops from his lips before he can stop himself. It’s the second time he can feel his heart plummet through the crust of the earth in the past thirty seconds.

You don’t seem to react to his reply, still sleeping soundly.

It’s a relief because Four wasn’t sure how he was going to explain the very endeared tone that he just used on you. He needs to better grip on himself. Maybe he should go clean up and polish the group’s weapons three times over. That should be enough to ground him back into reality, right?

“Four.” You say pointedly and Four feels his heart stop in his chest. He snaps his attention back to you but you don’t have your eyes open. You’re still sleeping.

Four puts his hand over his heart and falls backwards. His other hand lands on his head band and brushes his bangs away from his face.

Well this is an interesting development.

You’re dreaming about him. Four watches you with more interest than he cares to admit. Are you going to say something else? Is he going to get a hint to what you’re thinking about? Is it nice? He hopes his nice. But that look on your face is rather concerning. Is a nightmare? Should he wake you up?

“Stop.” You say and Four feels likes he’s been smacked.

..Did you just-....Can you read minds?

Feeling sheepish, Four responds anyway. “Sorry.”

You don’t reply. Because you’re still asleep.

Embarrassed, Four stands and power walks away from you and where you rest. Someone else can take the watch now. There’s no need for him to stay and embarrass himself to only his shadow. He already knows how that’s going to end up the second he’s truly alone.

He wakes up the next Link and promptly, throws himself into his bed roll.

Best not to think about it.

Legend

He was so tired. He felt dead on his feet.

You were no different than he was. As soon as the group was called to a halt to set up camp, you had taken off your hood, wrapped it up and fell to the ground. Out. Just like that. You didn’t bother eating any dinner. You were instantly unconscious.

Legend took a minute or two to envy your ability to just do that. Before got onto his very sore feet and helped the rest of the exhausted group to set up a somewhat decent camp.

The meal Wild made was simple and quick to the point. Legend thinks that it might have been missing some salt but given the way most of them inhaled their food, he doubts that it was worth pointing out.

He sets up his bed roll, thanking the stars that he’s not on first watch and looks over to you.

You had virtually dropped where you stood, and were thus a little further away than anyway.

Something pulls at Legend’s heart strings. He can’t just leave you there.

Yes he can.

You puts his pillow down where he’s more or less certain where his head will be and moves his blanket. Legend looks back to you.

He can’t.

With a dramatic groan loud enough to wake the others, he meanders back over to you and pokes you with his foot. No response.

“Great.” Legend groans again. He drops to shake you a little bit but you only grumble.

“Wake up.” 

“Nrmm...”

“Hey.”

“Shhh...”

Legend says your name dramatically.

“Link.”

Legend stares at you for a minute before poking you again. If you’re awake then you’re doing a somewhat decent job of not moving. If you’re sleeping, you’re awfully aware of what happening right now.

You don’t move.

He pokes you again.

“Legen’.... no... stop..”

He growls. “So you do know it’s me.”

He drops to his knees and shakes your shoulders a little rougher than intended. To his shock, you still don’t respond as intended and only vaguely brush him off.

His eyes narrow but you don’t show any signs of acknowledgment whatsoever.

Legend pouts and stands. He already knows he’s not strong enough to pick you up.

He’s going to bed.

Part 3

[delcakoo]

enhas reaction to finding you crying´ˎ˗

requested <3

⇘ PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

⇘ GENRE ! bucket loads of fluff n’ comforting

⇘ WC ! 4k

⇘ WARNINGS ! mention of alcohol in jay’s, blood + slightly desc knee injury in heeseung’s

a/n: cutest promp ever aa, thank u for the req and enjoy anonnie!

// LEE HEESEUNG!

heeseung would do his very best to be calm and mature, but on the inside mans is panicking :( his approach would be to first analyze the situation; if it’s something super serious, he’ll ask if you want to talk about it, and if you do he’s of course ready to listen. but if not, he’s down to distract you by playing video games or going on a movie marathon!

after a troublesome amount of convincing, heeseung has coaxed you into going skateboarding with him. now don’t get the wrong idea— you had no clue what you were doing, but your boyfriend insisted that with his help you’d be a pro by the end of the day (doubt).

but to your surprise, it wasn’t exactly going badly; you’ve learned how to balance properly on the board and even managed to glide around the skatepark slowly. though you haven’t exactly learned how to turn yet, so you were kind of stuck going in a line unless heeseung helped you— but he was determined to change that.

“one sec, i’m gonna get the sunscreen,” your boyfriend decides, surveying the sun now peeking through the clouds as he pushes up from the concrete, “keep practising, remember to lean to whatever side you’re turning but not too much!”

“okay,” you offer him a quick peck before shoo-ing him off, looking back down at the skateboard waiting by your feet.

heeseung would be really damn proud if you learned to turn all by yourself.

your mind was set. the parking lot was a while away; you had time and you wanted to impress your boyfriend. with that, you hop back onto the board and push, staring concentratedly down at your feet as you slowly lean to the right. gradually, the board starts to follow your body, turning with you ever so slowly.

you grin cockily, “hee, look! i’m doing i—“

before you knew what hit you, you’re back onto the ground, vision winded and blurred. you feel grateful for the helmet on your head, hissing at the growing burns stinging through various spots on your legs.

“oh shit, i’m so sorry!” a male’s voice yelps, and you barely make out a worried silhouette through your still hazy vision. against your will, you feel tears start to blur your vision at the intense sting on your right knee in specific, wincing at the feeling of your skin scraping against the concrete.

“fuck,” the stranger notices your tears, guilt creeping further onto him, “your knee’s bleeding bad. hold on i’ll find some help.”

though he doesn’t exactly get the chance to go searching, as a familiar figure in a white tank top appears back next to you. “what the— jesus christ, what happened?!” heeseung exclaims, quickly throwing away the sunscreen in his hands to inspect your fresh wounds.

“i’m so sorry, it was an accident! i was just doing some tricks but they kinda— well, they turned right into me.”

“sorry about that,” you chuckle awkwardly, finally regaining your vision after many rapid blinks through your tears.

heeseung huffs, barely offering the guy a glance. “alright,” he offers his hand out to you. slightly confused, you take it, carefully getting off the ground. “i have bandages in the car. let’s just go play mario party instead,” he grins, “i’ll let you pick my character.”

your eyes immediately brighten comically, completely forgetting the reason you were crying just moments ago, “really!? so you’ll be peach, and i’ll be yoshi right?”

heeseung sighs in defeat, reaching up to wipe your tears, “whatever you want, love.”

// PARK JAY !

this man is not having it! what made his beloved cry?! he is so ready to help in whatever way you need, no matter if that’s just cuddling on the couch or taking you on a whole shopping spree, his card in your hand of course~

jay was alone for once at enhas dorm, in the middle of peeling potatoes for dinner. in all honesty, he wasn’t sure where his members were, but he didn’t mind spending a bit of time without six other boys causing chaos around the place. his peeling came to a stop though when he heard a slightly aggressive knock at the door, quickly pausing his task to go see what the commotion was about.

jay pulls open the door only to find you at the stairs, tears brimming your red eyes. you're wearing your work uniform, arms crossed over your chest. his stomach immediately drops, quickly pulling you inside and giving you a hug. “honey, what happened?”

you sniffle against his chest, “i fucking hate my boss— no. i hate my coworkers. actually,” you pull away to see his handsome face, “i hate my job.”

your boyfriend sighs, ushering you over to sit at the countertop while he turns on the kettle, preparing a mug and a teabag for you. “i mean, it’s just ridiculous at that place! absolutely no coordination whatsoever,” you vent, tears still angrily flowing down your cheeks, “how am i expected to do the dishes, empty the garbage, then apparently sprint back in the front to serve people while those asshats just laze around gossiping! and also..”

jay will listen to you rant for as long as you need, humming along the way as a reminder of his presence. “gosh, that’s so unfair for you, seriously,” he acknowledges, pouring the boiling water into the cup for you, “they treat you horribly. why doesn’t your boss do anything?”

you scowl, “on the rare occasion that he actually shows up, he’s busy drinking the alcohol that’s supposed to be for the customers.”

jay sighs, grabbing a jar of honey to add to your drink, “there has to be some other place you can apply for, jagi. i don’t want you there anymore, it seriously sounds dangerous, not to mention unorganized.”

“i know, i don’t either.” you ponder for a moment, “well, i heard there was a new bookstore that opened nearby.”

jay beams, offering you the hot drink along with a quick peck to your lips, “perfect, we’ll go check it out tomorrow, hm?” you nod, already feeling much calmer as you take the mug into your hand gratefully.

“you’re quitting that place tomorrow,” he states, “after i give that shitty boss of yours a piece of my mind.”

// SIM JAKE !

poor guy freaks out, don’t act surprised if he starts bawling too :C at first jake might be a bit hesitant and unsure of what to do, but he’ll still do his absolute best to cheer you up and comfort you. probably the best cuddle buddy of all, especially when you’re in desperate need of some babying <3

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was planning to surprise you by coming over in just a few minutes. jake’s been busy with promotions all month, but was finally able to get some free time in which he was more than excited to spend with you.

however, his exciting plan went down the drain when he unlocked your front door to find you curled up on the couch, face puffy and red. at the sight of him, you frantically fix yourself up and wipe your cheeks in an attempt to look normal. “babe? what are you doing here?” you mumble.

he doesn’t reply, instead rushing over to tightly pull you into his embrace. at the unexpected but comforting closeness, you begin to quietly sob again onto his shoulder. jake frowns further, stroking your back soothingly. “love, that seriously just broke my heart.”

“i’m sorry.”

“no,” he quickly voices, kissing your cheek, “i’m sorry that i wasn’t here. are you okay?”

you nod while he leads you to sit back on the couch, feeling a bit nervous on how to approach the whole situation. he gulps, “d-do you want to talk about it right now?”

you swallow anxiously, fiddling with your fingers, “i’d prefer a bit later.”

jake shakes his head in understanding, looking around the room for a distraction. out of the corner of his eye, he notices his soccer ball that he must’ve left the last time he came over, a small smile beginning to grow on his face. at the sight of his cheeky expression, your face quickly follows to match his grin. “why’re you doing that face?” you chuckle.

jake snickers mischievously. “huh? what face?”

“that face you make when you and niki have thought of another dumb prank to pull on jay.”

he giggles, suddenly jumping up from the couch and running over to grab the ball near your front door. “if you score on me, i’ll pay for dinner,” he smirks, presenting the ball to you, “and if i score on you… uh, i’ll still pay for dinner.”

you look at him suspiciously. “but! you have to give me a kiss,” he finishes.

you raise an eyebrow, “y’know i would do that either w—“

he cuts you off, “okay! see you outside~”

to no surprise, jake won and you called him a tryhard ^^ he still enjoyed his prize though!!

// PARK SUNGHOON !

sunghoon being sunghoon would be quite awkward at first, it’s just the truth T-T he wouldn’t know what to do, should he even touch you? do you want to be alone? maybe he should be giving you space— or wait, what if you need him and his cuddles!? poor boy would be worrying out of his mind on how to help, so you’ll have to be a bit clear on what you need from him.

it’s getting later and later into the day, and you still haven’t moved from your desk. sunghoon has visited you, who’s locked themself alone inside the bedroom studying, multiple times throughout the afternoon, begging you to give your brain a break. each attempt has had no effect, insisting every time that you ‘had to get this done’ and only needed ‘a bit longer’. your boyfriend has finally decided it’s been a bit longer.

sunghoon doesn’t knock like he did during his past appearances, simply barging in with a slightly annoyed expression. “y/n, i’m serious this time. you’ve been sitting in this shithole,” he spits, pointing to the crumpled pieces of papers scattered around the desk, “for way too—“ his scolding comes to an immediate stop when he looks up to see tears absolutely flooding down your face, your eyes bloodshot and red.

his lips stutter, frozen in the doorway watching as you let out a strangled cry, turning away from him in shame. “wh—what happened?”

you refuse to look into his eyes, focusing on your laptop. “i don’t know anymore, i just can’t do it,” you sniffle, “been here all day yet i still don’t get these concepts.”

he crouches next to your desk, nervously grasping your jaw and pulling you to look at him. in all honesty, sunghoon just wants to embrace you into a tight hug, but he glues himself to his spot next to you, not wanting to overstep. “love, you need to give yourself the breaks you deserve,” he whispers, brushing away your tears, “how do you expect your brain to work properly when you haven’t eaten or even moved all afternoon?”

sunghoon is beginning to feel guilt flush through him for not forcing you out of here sooner, watching as you push back your hair in frustration. but now he knows for sure that you need him, grabbing your under arms and scooping you up like a toddler. “yah, what’re you doing..” you fake annoyance, secretly smiling in appreciation against his shoulder.

“taking care of my big baby,” he coos back, settling you down on the countertop before beginning to prepare a meal for you both.

the next day, sunghoon does his best to help you study by not only testing you off flashcards and proofreading your work, but setting multiple “y/n break time” alarms throughout the day. and in the end, his strategy worked; you found yourself getting much more done despite spending less time burning holes into your computer screen.

this also means that sunghoon was right for once. expect him to be bragging about how helpful he was and that you now “owe him big time”. >:[

// KIM SUNOO !

sunoo’s biggest fear is seeing you cry :( literally shatters his heart into pieces, and despite his calm appearance he is ready to fight anyone who made you sad. please expect lots of cuddles and attention later, he’ll be extra affectionate with you for the next couple of days after seeing you so upset. baby might also offer to take you out somewhere or do your skin care routine to take your mind off whatever happened!

you and your boyfriend were just coming back from a convenience store run when the chirpy melody of an ice cream truck stops you in your tracks. “sun!” you gasp, you releasing your hand from sunoo’s to pointing in the truck’s direction. “let’s go!”

“yah, i’m supposed to be on a diet you know that right?” he complains from behind you, jogging to catch up.

you pout at that, tugging his sleeve like a child, “c’mon, just this one time?”

sometimes sunoo hates the fact that he simply can’t say no to you. “fine but i’m not getting anything,” he reminds, swiftly pulling out his wallet.

you cheer, excitedly ordering your mouth watering, drool inducing, oreo and kitkat double scooped ice cream cone with hot fudge. sunoo stares at the monstrosity in disgust, watching as the old man hands the dessert to you with an emotionless gaze. “seriously.. how can you eat that?”

you shrug. “don’t be a hater,” you reply simply, walking off to find a bench with your boyfriend following close behind.

“excuse me?” sunoo spits, flabbergasted, “do i need to remind you who purchased that.. thing for you?”

you giggle at his glare, taking your first mouth of the ice cream. “thank you, babe. but also, could i please get some napkins?” you ask, desperately trying to lick up the melting droplets racing down the cone.

sunoo finds himself back at the ice cream truck per your request, thanking the man after receiving a couple brown napkins for you. he skips back over to the bench, folding the paper neatly as he approaches you. “here you go, big baby. but next time you’re taking m—“ he’s turned speechless at the sight of a single tear falling down your face, arms crossed in annoyance with absolutely no sign of your oreo and kitkat double scooped ice cream cone with hot fudge in sight.

he frowns, shoving the napkins into his pocket and frantically crouching down to see you. “what— where’s your ice cream!? why’re you crying, love?”

you point over to a group of teen boys who are laughing in the distance, a familiar ice cream in one of their hands. “those dipshits stole it out of my fucking hand. i wanted to do something but— i don’t know, they intimidated me or something. fuck, that’s so embarrassing.” you grimace, biting your lip in frustration.

sunoo feels anger flow through him at that, poking his cheek with his tongue. “stay here, okay?”

you look up at the boy, sniffling, “what? why?”

he rubs your shoulder, pushing himself up from his crouching position. “i’ll be back with a new ice cream, a triple scoop this time,” he promises. “and i’m going to teach those assholes a lesson.”

while your boyfriend may look like a pure, loving dumpling, he was not one to be messed with; you learned this when you found him giddily walking back over to you moments later with the ice cream thieves behind him, feeling pleased as they paid him back for the stolen dessert and even bowed as they apologised to you.

“how the hell did you get them to do that?”

“i have my ways y/n,” he grins innocently, gesturing to your new, triple scooped ice cream, “now eat, i worked hard for this ugly thing.”

// YANG JUNGWON !

probably the most ready during the situation. just like won, you’re pretty bad at showing how you feel, especially if you’re upset. but even so, he does an amazing job at reading the situation (despite freaking out slightly on the inside) since he knows you like the back of his hand. though, he’d also get a bit insecure on if he’s really helping you how you need, so a simple thank you or some affection once you’re feeling better would go a long way for him!

jungwon’s eyes are pitch black, the normal, shimmering gleam in them vanished. “i don’t even love you y/n. i’ve been lying to you this whole time— honestly, who would ever love you?“ he barks, crossing his arms.

no, jungwon would never say that. it’s okay, this isn’t real.

“oh, it’s real alright,” your boyfriend walks closer to you, suddenly pushing you backwards in a way rougher than he’s ever touched you before. “pathetic y/n, always taking up all my time and bothering me all day. how did i even manage to keep up this facade for so long?” he chuckles in disbelief, staring down at your trembling figure on the floor.

this is all wrong.

you jolt awake, stressfully glancing at your bedside clock to read 2:26am. you begin to shiver, pushing your hair back before turning around. see, it wasn’t real. it was a dream, jungwon loves you and he’s right he—

no. where is jungwon? his side of the bed is completely messed up, and he isn’t in the washroom; all the lights still remain off. you begin to feel tears build up in your eyes, your anxiety is through the roof, and your fingers begin to shake much like your trembling lips. it was just a dream, he didn’t abandon you. he wouldn’t.

right?

for a few more moments, you sit in bed, debating whether you should go search for your boyfriend as tears silently cascade down your face. you felt weak and pathetic. it was totally unlike you to cry about something as small as a nightmare, but the feeling of vulnerability took over anything else at the moment.

thankfully, you didn’t have to feel that way for much longer. “jagiya?” your head snaps towards the bedroom door, seeing a half asleep jungwon walk in with a glass of water. “did i wake you? aish, i even left the lights off to try and keep you asleep. sorry,” he rasps, his voice still deep and cracky from being asleep minutes prior as he plops back into bed next to you.

“wonnie?” you sniffle, voice slightly uneven.

jungwon quickly turns to you in the darkness at that, worriedly turning on his lamp to be met with your wet, puffed up face. his mouth opens in shock, reaching over to pull you as tightly as he can into his chest. “hey, i just went to get a drink. what happened?”

in utter relief, you relax into his hold, sniffling quietly. “had a bad dream. it was horrible, won. you said so many mean things to me.”

jungwon feels his heart shatter at that, rubbing soothing shapes against the dip of your back. “did i? i’ll have to fight this dream-jungwon then, he’s an idiot.” you snort at that, making him grin against your shoulder. “the real jungwon knows he’d never say a mean thing to you, ever.”

you wipe your tears against his white t-shirt, giggling slightly. “you even pushed me to the ground.”

jungwon gasps, “that’s it. i’m killing that guy— or well, me. me in your dream! i’ll fight myself!” you laugh more, finally looking up to push your lips to his, hugging him closer in appreciation. at the sudden affection, jungwon quickly recovers and kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist happily.

when you pull away from the kiss, he suddenly stretches like a cat, licking his lips. “so, wanna make hot chocolate?”

you give him an unimpressed look, wiping your last tears before glancing at the clock once again. “baby, it’s 2am.”

“exactly! everyone knows hot chocolate tastes better at 2am!”

well? are you gonna say no to this boy? i don’t think so!! go make your hot chocolate :D

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

mr maknae being the unserious boy he is might laugh at first. not because he thinks you being upset is funny! it’s just, the only time you let him see you cry is when it’s from watching a sad romance drama or animal videos, so he thinks of it as not a big deal anymore and instead opts for taking pictures and making fun of you. but once he realises this time you’re genuinely distressed about something he goes into full protective and caretaker mode (a side of him he rarely shows) and will not hesitate to kiss your tears away! no tears are permitted when he’s around!! >:(

your swearing echoes through the dance studio, overthrowing the music playing through your speaker. being part of a competitive dance team meant practising until perfection. no matter 1pm or 1am, if you don’t know your dance, you better stay in that damn studio until it’s permanently engraved in your head.

so here you were, sometime around midnight perhaps, doing your best to finish up memorizing your team’s difficult performance. one section in particular has been bugging you for a while now; you just couldn’t seem to get the steps shown in the tutorial playing on your laptop down, leading to grunts in frustration at every failure.

you glance at the time on the blaring screen. 12:24. were you that incompetent? why is it that all your teammates got to leave on time, while you had to stay back for hours trying to catch up to them? perhaps you weren’t meant to be on this team. maybe you just aren’t good enough.

even if you try your hardest to hold them in, your vision become blurry with tears as they cascade down your cheeks involuntarily, negative thoughts rushing through your brain. you aggressively wipe the droplets away with clenched fists, damn it y/n, get a hold of yourself.

a small snicker is suddenly heard from behind you, sounding mischievous as if the person had caught you in the act of something embarrassing. “you watching more ‘animals reuniting with their owner’ compilations or something?” you whip your head around with a frown, immediately recognising the voice of your boyfriend, who’s now staring down at you teasingly.

his grin drops slightly when he takes in your irritated expression, unravelling his hands from deep within his hoodie pockets. “hey.. you okay?”

you scoff, turning back away from the boy. “do i look okay riki? why’re you even here, it’s nearly one in the morning.”

niki doesn’t respond for a moment, nervously sitting down next to you. you busy yourself with your laptop, replaying the dance tutorial once again. “i wanted to see you.” you don’t reply, sniffling slightly as you wipe your still falling, annoying tears.

he’ll never admit it, but niki feels the desperate need to hold you and kiss away those tears. but it was clear you didn’t want that right now.

anxiously fidgeting around next to you, he’s completely unused to the feeling of you ignoring his presence, unlike the usual moments of you practically jumping on him the moment he walked in the room.

“baby,” he mumbles cautiously.

“what?” you spit, already feeling guilt wash over you at your unintentionally harsh tone.

“look at me.” you obey, turning to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’s now frowning himself. you only begin to feel worse at his saddened expression.

“you don’t have to tell me about whatever’s going on right now, but let’s at least go home n’ rest for the night. you really deserve it and i’m proud of you.” niki tests his luck, reaching out to gently rub your shoulder.

maybe it’s because it’s him, but that’s all you needed to hear. you push yourself up from your spot on the ground to jump on the boy, hugging him closely with your cheek pressed to his. niki freezes for a second, slowly reaching up to wrap you up in his embrace as well. at the sound of you sniffling once again, he pulls back to watch a tear fall down your face, reaching down to kiss it off.

he smacks his lips, “your tears are salty.”

you sigh, unsurprised at the sudden mood kill. “way to ruin the moment.”

if you enjoyed, commenting your thoughts/reblogs are always appreciated n’ motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @boowoowho @sultrybaby @koshinene

[justburningdaylight]

Operation Love Me

Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader has been with Steve for almost two years. Recently he’s been pulling away. She believes he’s fallen out of love, so she devises a plan to gain his love back.

Warnings: angst (again, sorry besties), but also lots of fluff, happy ending, mentions of nightmares, i think there’s a curse word somewhere, a few kisses, my inner stevie nicks stan pops out, dustin overstays his welcome a couple times, let me know when you spot the all too well reference, no spoilers !

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: just a lil something i whipped up for you guys <3 i had a looot of fun with this one ! p.s. requests are open, come chat with me !

When Steve Harrington asked you to be his girlfriend, it was a transcendent experience. You were almost certain it was a dream, some empyrean reverie concocted within the confines of your mind.

In the near two years since that metamorphic experience, things had shifted poignantly.

More specifically Steve had shifted. And you knew why.

He wasn’t in love with you anymore.

He never verbalized this, but he didn’t have to. The agonizing truth lingers in the air of his presence. The veracity of the situation persists like a never-ending storm, the tenacious, violent rain showing no signs of halting, leaving no room for the possibility of basking in the warm, ethereal glow of the sun.

He may have fallen out of love with you, but you were still in love with him. Desperately, in fact. Which is what led you to the conception of your ingenious 4-step plan to win back his affections.

Step 1 : Make an effort

Steve was the antithesis of a man who judged you on your appearance. He used to vow repeatedly that a person could never look more beautiful than you did in the morning.

Your face would still be riddled with exhaustion, the evidence of your tranquil slumber tucked comfortably away in the corners of your eyes, and Steve would adamantly insist that you were a veracious vision of grace and divinity.

You can’t remember the last time he’d done that.

You didn’t intend to make any fundamental changes to your appearance; You still feel a twinge of dissatisfaction when you think about Allison Reynolds in The Breakfast Club, they extracted every physical characteristic that made her unique and tried to sell that she was better off than before. Wild horses couldn’t drag you to that point. You were, however, open to the idea of enhancing some of your own preexisting characteristics.

You styled your hair the same way you did for your first date with Steve, applying a similar ample amount of lipgloss. The new dress you’ve been saving for a deserving occasion clings faultlessly to your body as you wait anxiously for Steve to arrive. It’s almost farcical, you suppose, being nervous to see your boyfriend of nearly two years. Yet you can’t shake your concern for his impending response.

The mollifying sound of your front door opening resonates through the apartment and, while you were expecting Steve’s appearance, you were confounded by the hindering addition of Dustin.

“Hey (y/n)! You look nice. Got a hot date or somethin’?” Dustin’s playful voice sounds as he brushes past you, adolescent hands juggling a variety of VHS tapes.

“Did you have plans? I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight.” Steve asks, his magnetic caramel eyes searching your own in a delicate display of adept obliviousness.

“No. No, nothing special.” You sibilate dejectedly.

“Good ‘cause it’s move night! And Steve cheaped out on snacks, so you’re gonna want to make some popcorn.” 

“Right.” You enshroud your abasement with a counterfeit smile and venture into your kitchen to make Dustin his popcorn, the familiar notes of Eye of the Tiger resounding through your apartment as Rocky IV begins playing on the tv.

So your first attempt was met with an expeditious defeat, but perseverance can be rewarding. Right?

Step 2 : Remind him of the good times

You jolt awake from your slumber, the cold sweat clinging to your body serves as a physical reminder of the macabre scenario you just narrowly escaped in your nightmare.

In an effort to suppress the unsolicited atrocities racing incessantly through your mind, you surreptitiously make your way out of the bed you share with Steve, delicately extracting yourself from the steady grip of your unconscious boyfriend’s gangly arms.

You cautiously venture down the hall to the kitchen, momentarily detouring to the living room to clandestinely place Rumours by Fleetwood Mac on the turntable, ensuring the volume is at a near imperceptible sonority so as not to rouse your boyfriend from his tranquil sleep.

You pour yourself a glass of glacial water, condensation generously gathering along the perimeter of the cup, the dull glow of the open refrigerator acting as your light source.

“D’you have another nightmare?” Steve’s sleep-riddled voice questions gingerly as he wraps his arms tenderly around your midsection from behind.

“I just want to stop seeing it in my head.” You turn in his arms to face him, appreciating how magnificently the light of the refrigerator illuminates his divinely celestial features. 

“I know,” He begins delicately, “I’m sorry for dragging you into it. You should have never been anywhere near those things-”

“Steve, it’s not your fault, okay? I need you to know that.” You interrupt before he can incur being the responsibility of your nightmares’ source. He’s not culpable for anything that came from the Upside Down.

He gazes at you solemnly, nebulous eyes emanating with immense emotion as he hesitantly nods his head.

The gentle melody of Songbird begins, floating through the kitchen, causing a lithe smile to form on your gentle lips as you appreciate the mellifluous opulence of Stevie Nicks’ voice.

“May I have this dance?” Steve asks, donning a heavenly smile.

“I’d be honoured.” You answer as he begins swaying you adeptly in his agile arms, your modest grin blooming into a broad smile.

And so the two of you danced around the kitchen, with nothing to accompany you but the gentle glow of the refrigerator light and the seraphic sounds of Fleetwood Mac on the record player.

That night solidified Songbird as your song. Which is the rationale for why you’re standing alone in the living room at one thirty in the morning listening to Fleetwood Mac.

“(y/n)?” Steve’s fatigued and perplexed voice sounds as he advances down the hallway.

“Hey.” You’re apprehensive now, equal parts regret and hesitance swim through your bloodstream like a resolute fish headed upstream in a particularly vigorous current.

“What are you doin’? It’s like one in the morning. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, no yeah I’m- I’m fine.”

The look he gives you is filled with concern, but there’s a glimmer of something else hiding in the shadows, regret maybe? You can’t accurately discern it, and it disappears before giving you a chance to unravel its connotation.

“Okay, well, if you’re fine, I um- I work in the morning so I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Yeah. Go ahead, I’ll turn it down. Sorry.” That wan’t mortifying at all, you introspectively reprimand yourself, feeling a sense of dejection you’re beginning to grow painstakingly familiar with.

That could have gone better.

Step 3 : Spend some quality time together

You’re veritably hoping that there’s some authenticity to the phrase third time’s the charm.

Adorning a particularly whimsical sundress, you sit contentedly on the plush blanket you’ve laid atop the flexible sage grass in the park, ardently awaiting Steve’s arrival.

Your previous attempts to re-obtain his affections have been met with the abrupt emergence of failure, but the outcome of this experience was going to be different. What could go awry at a picnic?

“Hey. You look nice.” Steve’s symphonic voice sounds from above you, as he assuredly makes his presence known.

“Really? Thank you. So do you.”

Steve respires an exiguous chuckle at your response, taking a seat parallel to you on the thin blanket. You can’t contain the smile that accumulates on your face, outwardly displaying your pride at the small victory.

“So, how was your day?” You inquire earnestly, handing him the sandwich you prepared for him.

“Thanks. It was good. Y’know, busy. People really love their movies.” 

“How’s Robin? I know how much she-” “Steve! (y/n)! Hey!” Dustin’s voice reverberates through the air, effectively silencing your queries.

Seriously? There’s no way this is happening. Again.

“Hey! Dustin’s here! Look at that (y/n), what are the odds?” Your boyfriend’s usually endearing rambling holds a discernibly nervous undertone.

“I don’t know Steve, what are the odds?” You question, failing to cultivate eye contact as he’s currently preoccupied with looking anywhere besides your eyes.

“Gotta be one in a million! So weird,” Dustin lightheartedly interjects, “Actually, it’s a good thing that you’re here Steve, ‘cause I really need you to come help me with something.”

“What- Seriously? Now?” 

“Yes, (y/n), now! It’s very important stuff. Could be life or death.” Dustin emphasizes his point with resolute hand gestures.

From the repentant look in his sparkling eyes, you’ve already predetermined Steve’s next words.

“Go.” You preempt, dispiritedly.

Your boyfriend’s saccharine eyes are filled to the brim with a myriad of unidentifiable emotions as he scrambles onto his feet, sandwich still clasped between his lithe fingers, his smooth sorrowful voice mumbling a doubtful vow, “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” You nod pessimistically.

“Do you mind if I just grab one of those sandwiches? ‘Cause they look delicious.”

You hand Dustin a sandwich, temporarily suppressing each melancholy thought running around in your mind as you give him your best attempt at a smile.

“Sweet! Thanks.”

Third time was, decidedly, not the charm.

Step 4 : If all else fails, profess your interminable love

Step four was only ever thought of as a contingency. Existing solely for emergency use only. The invocation of this step means that there was a significant lack of reception to the previous three steps. You’re feeling particularly grateful that your antecedent self had included a backup plan.

“Oh hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up.” Steve’s delicate voice holds an air of surprise as he shuts the front door behind him, swiftly removing his jacket and shoes.

“Yeah,” You start, fiddling with your fingers in an effort to calm the anxiety coursing ferociously through your veins, “I thought maybe we should talk.”

“Talk? About- About what?” 

“About um- just us, I guess.”

Steve’s stately features are shrouded in a warm cloak of confusion and uncertainty.

“Are you- Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” He pleads after a moment, finally shattering the suffocating silence.

“What do you think I’m going to say?” It’s as though you two have traded emotions, now it’s you who stands perplexed as your boyfriend gently paces the floor in an attempt to reduce his anxiety.

“You wanna break up, right? You don’t want to be with me anymore. Everything’s too complicated now, isn’t it? All the monsters and shit, it’s just too much. I know it is.”

It takes you a few moments to wrap your head around his words. You want to reassure him, as tenderly as possible, that his assumption couldn’t be any further from the truth. Instead you say, “Are you crazy? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Did I-? What?”

“Steve, I’m not breaking up with you! I’d never break up with you. I just spent the last week trying to get you to fall back in love with me!”

You both go still at the nuance of your sudden confession. Steve’s chestnut eyes are filled with salty unshed tears as he takes gentle, purposeful steps toward you.

“Fall back in love with you? (y/n) did you hit your head?” He places a delicate hand on your cheek, nimble thumb grazing your satin skin in a circular motion as he continues, “I love you, okay? I love you so much that I don’t even know how to think straight.”

You place your hand over his own as it traces the curvature of your face. Your heart is pulsating so immensely furiously that you’re shocked it hasn’t beaten entirely out of your chest and fallen onto the floor where you stand. 

“Then- then why have you been avoiding me? Like every time we’re supposed to hang out, Dustin magically appears out of nowhere! It feels like you never want to spend time with me anymore, especially alone.”

“Oh my god. I didn’t- That’s not what it was, okay! I just-” He sighs, moving his gaze earnestly down toward his feet before bringing it back up to your eagerly awaiting eyes, “I got worried. After all this monster stuff. I mean, you’ve been having nightmares! And I know you say it’s fine but it’s not! And I was just- I was worried that you’d realize it was my fault and you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.” He exhaled deeply, once again dropping his gaze from your own.

“Steve,” You start, benevolently tilting up his chin in order to greet his warm chestnut eyes with your own resolute ones, “I would have a million more nightmares if it weren’t for you. You saved my life, okay? In every single way. And I already told you that none of that monster stuff is your fault! So I guess I’m just going to have to keep telling you as many times as it takes for you to believe it. Because I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Sorry to break it to you but, you’re stuck with me Harrington.”

“Good. ‘Cause that’s exactly where I want to be. Always.” Steve fixes you with an angelic, rapturous smile before bringing you into the solace of his steady, comforting embrace. 

“I love you too, by the way. Just in case it wasn’t obvious by now.” You mumble into his shoulder, intent on remaining in this position as long as possible.

“I know.”

“Take it down a notch, Han Solo.”

Steve chuckles euphoniously before pulling back to give you a lingering, ardent kiss. It was filled with emotion, longing, and passion, and oh boy did it take your breath away.

“You wanna keep doing this, or did you need to go call Dustin?”

“Shut up.” He mumbles reverently, bringing you in for another godly kiss.

Your contingency plan was a resounding success.

Mission accomplished.

[distort-opia]

Could you maybe explain to me what exactly Jason's problem with Bruce was/is when he came back?

Maybe I'm being stupid but I don't know. Like, I know there's this space between Jason's resurrection and Talia finding him... and Jason returing for a sec to kill Bruce, then changing his mind, and went back to Talia to plan The Ultimatum and travel the world a bit.

I went off the assumption that Jason thought Bruce didn't care enough for him to kill the Joker and then the whole stupid thing with the batarang to the neck after everyone thought Dick died.

But, like, Jason kind of destroyed his relationship with the batfam himself with the whole coming out of nowhere and trying to hurt/traumatize/kill them. I don't mean to hate on Jason specifically, I just don't get him on a fundamental level.

Would really appreciate if somebody could clear that up, I'm kind of desperate. Like I have most of the facts but it seems like a jigzaw puzzle with too many pieces and I can't make sense of it.

To be honest, I don't understand your confusion fully? You pretty much explained it yourself, why Jason was angry at Bruce after he came back. Even Judd Winick, the writer of Under the Red Hood, says it very concisely (in this interview):

When it comes to Jason's relationships with the Batfam, I'll once again let Winick explain his vision (transcription of a podcast episode to be found here):

You say that Jason harmed his relationship with the Batfam himself as if Jason's intention had been to have good relationships with them. At the times he went after Tim or Dick or Damian, I don't think he cared much about that, hah. Most of his choices at the time could be boiled down to "What would piss off Bruce the most, either directly or by proxy?"... and also, "What would get Bruce's attention the most?". Because that's what made it complicated, right. Jason wouldn't have gone to these extremes if he didn't care about Bruce.

As to things not making sense... you're not being stupid, I'm sorry to say that at least to me, it's impossible to reconcile all of Jason's actions within a coherent character. Just because he was written by different people in different continuities with very different goals (though maybe more accurately, by some writers lacking a goal, as in not really knowing what to do with him). This is true for most comic book characters, not just Jason; true consistency is a pipe dream when the history of a character spans decades. Keeping that in mind, my personal approach is forming an idea of the original core traits of a character (which is why I gave examples of what Winick himself said), and then filtering their subsequent portrayals through that. Some comics will be horribly OOC despite them technically being canon and you simply have to go the "I recognize that the Council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision I've elected to ignore it" route. Then there's, of course, your personal preferences; you can choose what is canon to you because you like it, and form your idea of a character around those instances-- though here I'd always warn to never stop being aware that it's your idea of the character. There is no absolute truth, and we're all playing in a sandbox. Other people will choose other instances of canon, or try to reconcile all of them somehow, and your ideas might not jive. That's perfectly fine.

That being said, while I do like Jason a lot, he isn't my full-time blorbo, so I'm sure other Jason scholars could respond to this much better than I did! If anyone wants to add more in-depth answers, please do.

[ikinremu]

HI, all of your Tommy Shelby works, involving smut have gotten me all fired up!

So, I am asking you if you cou could please write a Tommy Shelby smut, where Tommy and the reader both have their own favorite part(s) of each others body, and that may lead to teasing one another.

or

Even where Tommy's voice or any of his mannerisms turns the reader on.

Thanks, :)

Hi anonymous, thank you so much for reading - its so appreciated and I’m overjoyed that you like my works! Thank you so so much for the request!! So sorry it took so long for a response. I really like this idea and I hope you like what i’ve done with it.. enjoy :)

|| Nsfw || Teasing - Tommy Shelby ||

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

A Tommy Shelby teasing based smut oneshot!

tags: Fingering, Orgasm Denial, P in V, Teasing

! Smut Warning !

You adored Tommy from head to toe. Truly. Though, of course, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses - and ironically enough, what you considered to be Tommy's strengths were often what sent strikes of weakness through you.

Your fascinated gaze found no problem with projecting itself - and its ferocity - through the Garrison, swiftly parting any obstacles with a lack of consideration.

Truthfully, you weren't at all proud of the way Tommy's mannerisms alone could excite you - and they certainly didn't act in solidarity; even a seemingly innocent quality of his could have a shameful effect on you.

Your lustful fixation found captivity as you studied Tommy's hands with great intent. You surveilled the motions of them, peering through your tunnel vision as the routine bustle of the Garrison drifted further from your focus.

Frankly, you rather favoured Tommy's hands - it was simply difficult not to when you withheld the knowledge of their capabilities.

Elbows pressed against the Garrison's most popular attraction, Tommy's curled fingers twirled a cigarette between their bridges. Veins accentuated his hands, trailing disorderly paths beneath his skin; it was truly against your power to keep from absorbing every detail. A light push of smoke slipped the part of his lips, softly staining the air as your mind wandered astray.

It didn't, however, take much observation to recognise the smug portrait painting Tommy's face. He knew you were looking at him, and no doubt he'd realised what specific feature had fallen victim to this lewd motive of yours.

One thing Thomas Shelby needed zero assistance with was eye contact - it was to be considered above a strength. He always kept a firm hold on you, and if his hands were disrupted in doing so, his eyes would easily substitute.

His pupils practically split you in two, keen stare unfaltering as a cigarette resumed contact with his lips. In what could be viewed an instinctive manor, your stomach began to flutter as Tommy trailed his focus over your frame - gaze echoing with allure.

His expression did everything but soothe you, shooting a rush of adrenaline through your body. What you'd interpreted as this subtle understanding, communication even, could only spike your anticipated arousal.

It was only a matter of minutes before Tommy would approach, you'd connected those dots immediately, though he was far closer to the double doors you'd been rather blatantly eyeing - and honestly, you just couldn't resist such a ravenous nagging any longer.

Mindlessly, you arose from the stern seating of a wooden chair - one specifically distanced from the intended accompaniment. Tommy's eyes hadn't left your own, their only travel being such gloriously hungry glances over your body as you continued to step closer. Regulars were dotted all over, however in this moment it felt as though Tommy and yourself were the only people in the world. You knew what you wanted, he knew what you wanted; it was reduced to a matter of strides before you were able to indulge in this shared interest.

With a hoarse cough, Tommy cleared his throat, stubbing out his cigarette with the help of a nearby ashtray. Hands harshly digging into his trouser pockets, Tommy took a seemingly accomplished walk in the direction of the room you both knew was due to lose its vacancy.

The moment privacy was activated, you brazenly launched yourself in Tommy's direction - expecting him to meet you half way. Your clothed chest pressed against his, breath desperately hitching beneath your silk blouse. The hands you'd been dreaming so fondly about now squeezing your hips, you elongated your stance, neck stretching as you veered to connect with the supple lips in-front of you - however, you weren't met with a kiss.

Tommy chuckled with a gentle, somewhat mocking, shake of his head. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you wanted, love."

His callous fingers stroked just beneath your chin, forcing your vision upon him to remain stationary.

You had an inkling for where this was headed.

"Tommy-"

"Shh.." He dismissed, "Don't want people to hear us, eh?"

His hushed tone only furthered the flame of intimacy, a soft smile tugging at your lips - pleading to be freed from the compression.

"On the table." Tommy instructed, nodding in the direction of his firm demand.

You hopped atop the familiarly rounded surface, scooting back against the sleek wood as your skirt developed an ever so slight, upward crumple.

Tommy slipped a rusted key within the lock's shadowed opening, twisting it with a pop. You hadn't been made aware of this oddly enticing possession of his until now - though it certainly made the specifics of the circumstances far easier.

Your chest could only indulge in the deepest of heaves, stomach flitting with anticipation as Tommy's body became exceptionally close with your own.

His right hand snaked between your clenched thighs, splitting the friction you'd subconsciously built as he spread them apart.

"So fuckin wet." He groaned, the heat of his words tickling your ear as tantalising sensations began to form elsewhere. His swift fingers traced teasing, supple circles over the sodden material of your underwear - varying between intensities as your clit met the brunt of the touch. "You got this wet just from thinkin about my hands, mm?"

His words were laced with amusement, sound waves clambering down your exposed neck. You nodded - the sentence confirming your suspicions of his awareness. With a smug curve staining his face, the thick fingers of Tommy's opposing hand slid beneath the well-fixed waistband of your skirt, yanking it down with a singular pull - also discarding the soaked underwear with impressive unison.

Tommy's arm slung round your back, the painstakingly expensive fabric of his button up brushing your blouse before he hauled you forward with an unexpected, rather harsh, jolt.

At the greed-enthused collision, you buried your face against Tommy's neck. With a steep inhale, you ingested his strong, musky scent - desperately revelling in his touch.

Suddenly, you felt a crisp motion between the slick of your upper legs, barely brushing over your heat. Your teeth sunk into the plush of your lower lip, body melting against the fingers sliding inside your increasingly wet hole.

"Shit.." You breathed, eyelids painting shadows over your vision as a large hand cupped your chin.

"Look at me. Eh?" Tommy breathed, delicately pressing his forehead against your own - passion radiating through the closing gap between both of your jaws.

As you unclenched your drooped lids, releasing a heavy exhale, Tommy's fingers began strumming your swelling clit. Your hands clutched at the width of his shoulders, finding stability as the stimulation quickened. With the prompting of very little temptation, you submitted to the urge of pressing your lips against his. Before your mouthes could properly connect, Tommy re-enacted his previous dismissal of a kiss.

"You wanted my fingers so bad? That's all I'm gonna fuckin give you."

As vexing as this - soon to be - teasing was, it somehow amplified the stakes of your desire. Mouth agape, you let a whimper slip your throat - hot face still touching Tommy's, despite the infuriating lack of a potentially incredible embrace.

His fingers pumped inside you, finding an insatiably rapid pace as they teased your sopping pussy.

"Fuck, Tommy.." You grew careless of containing any moans as desperation seeped from your every pore, clit throbbing against the pleasing motions of his fingers.

"This what you wanted, love?" His eyes hadn't broken their dedicated train to yours, balmy foreheads clashing with one and other as your back began arching in response. "You wanted my fuckin fingers?"

"Mhm." You uttered, an all too familiar stir flooding your pitted abdomen, "I'm getting close."

As you became submerged by the feeling of an orgasm's sloping build, Tommy's fingers retracted from your so heavily drenched arousal - blocking the release at its very brink.

God, was he agitating when he wanted to be.

"I want to feel you come around me." The lustful nature of his speech - of his breath - was enough to drive you to the edge, and his smirk only added to the mix.

Body processing the denial of a release, you only grew to crave it further.

Driven by this pure, unfiltered thirst, you made light work of Tommy's buttoned waistcoat and shirt, soon following through the momentary process once more  - this time your blouse being the subject.

It wasn't at all long before the pair of you had completely deserted all clothing - not a single strip of fabric sheltering your skin.

Tommy's large hands spread over the thick flesh of your bare behind, eagerly kneading at it as the space between you lessened. With a slow push, his hard cock filled the previous depravity of your tight hole - his eyes rolling back as he entered.

Utilising his grip on your ass, Tommy pulled you to match his first, deep thrust - leaking tip taunting your sweet spot as you firmed your grasp on his, now exposed, shoulders.

"Fuck, you feel good.." A low grunt fled his mouth, hand planting a light slap to your behind before returning to its previous, hungry grab.

His hips bucked faster, reaching euphorically deep within your seeping arousal. Your head lolled back, teeth relentlessly torturing your bottom lip as your back formed a rather significant arch.

Tommy grinned, "Right there?"

You - subtly though frantically - nodded, whispering clusters of breathy confirmations as his pulsing erection pounded into you. Your hole clenched around the pleasing motions of his length, moans escaping both mouthes.

Your hips bucked against Tommy's, a singular hand of his jumping to massage your soft breasts, flicking the tenderness of your nipples as the friction caused their pebbling. You pressed open mouthed kisses to the upper planes of his chest, helplessly whining as he marked rapid thrusts.

He flicked your hardened nipples, tip slapping the places you craved most as he pleasured your drenched arousal. You trailed sloppy, heated kisses down his naked torso, nimble fingers still adamantly clutching at his shoulders.

Tommy’s skilful hips continued to slam against your own, burying his cock deeper in your sopping cunt. His hand suddenly retracted the touch from your breasts, sneaking beneath the intense contact as his fingers began to toy with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck!" You slipped a less than quiet moan, instinctively grinding against his dexterity as a knot grew apparent - creeping up from the depths of your fluttering stomach. "I'm gonna cum.."

"Cum for me, love." He grunted, teasing words breaking from the binds of his throat.

His fingers applied further pressure, erection thrusting as deep as you knew possible.

The burning tension coursing through your body wound tighter, preparing to wash over you - clearly without the intention of implementing any limits.

Tommy groaned lowly, granting one final pound into you as you felt a sudden warmth spread within your cunt.

You couldn't help but tremor as your orgasm struck, much anticipated release possessing your body - sensitivity peaking like never before due to the pent up frustration of your earlier denial.

"Shit.." You panted, more breath than word, as you came down from the euphoric climax - a smile stretching your pinkish lips. You pressed your now rather heated forehead against Tommy’s, his soft lips meeting yours - insinuating the kiss you’d had such a desperate longing for.

After a few short seconds, far too short by your own judgement, the passionate embrace was rather frustratingly split.

“I love you.” He spoke, gravelled voice tickling your ears as he tucked strands of your disheveled hair to the side.

“I love you too.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated! <3

[in1-nutshell]

Hey me again maybe a few more interactions with team bee and old Predacon buddy maybe a bit more hijinks and stuff and maybe seeing prime again Predacon buddy will most likely berate Optimus and then hugging him because of them missing their Orion pax basically just overall acting like a mother hen and just overall fretting over team bee

I went with a little reunion with Buddy and Optimus... then I had a little fun with it.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon reunites with Optimus Prime

SFW, Platonic, Slight angst, mentions of injury but nothing too graphic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

RiD 2015

Buddy was with the rest of the team fighting this ‘Megatronus’ character.

They were not impressed by the name.

Buddy and Grimlock took over most of the heavy hits and hitting, but even Buddy was struggling against the mysterious mech.

They blamed it on the age and years of damage to their frame.

Oh, they would have given for some years shaven off right about now.

Megatronus was going to get the jump on Bumblebee when Buddy tackled him.

The mech easily got them off and slammed them to the ground.

Buddy was very familiar with wounds after years of being in the arena and war. They know what a stab wound feels like, especially one near a vital area.

Buddy looking up at the mech with hatred in their optics.

Megatronus has both of his servos together raised above his helm.

“I think its about time to finally get rid of you Predacon scum from the face of this world.”--Megatronus

Buddy hears some of the bots scream for them.

All they can focus in was the sneering pain in their gut and the slow-motion servos coming straight for their helm.

This was it…

At least they would see Prime again.

A blur of red and blue tackled Megatronus down.

Out of the corner of Buddy’s optics they see him.

“Optimus…Orion…”—Buddy

Buddy’s vision gets darker and darker.

They could feel their frame get colder by the minute.

The older Predacon knew that it was a bad idea to close their optics.

But they were so tired…

They forgot to take their nap today and the ground below…

A little nap wouldn’t hurt right?

Buddy heard some pede steps heading their direction, but they had already closed their optics as the fading sound of yelling disappeared.

Buddy woke up with the sight of the last rays of sunlight hitting their face.

They groaned propping their elbows up a bit, flinching at the pain in their gut. Where the giant sword used to be was now replaced by some expert wielding. It’d take a bit of buffing out and coloring to get rid of that thing.

Buddy looked around and noticed they were in the scrapyard. Specifically in the section where they had most of their medical supplies.

It was quiet.

Too quiet…

Buddy swings their pedes to the side of the berth and tries to sit up.

That was an immediate regret.

“Primus… this is going to hurt like the Pits…”--Buddy

Buddy pushes themselves off the berth and stumbles to the wall next to them.

They slowly prop themselves up thanks to the wall.

“Now… where are the others…?”--Buddy

Buddy hears multiple pede steps coming their way.

They grabbed the closets object near them, which was a crowbar and held it tightly in their servos.

The intruding bot turns the corner and Buddy, out of pure instinct, whacks them on the helm.

“OW!”--Bumblebee

“Bee! Sorry about—Oof!”--Buddy

Bumblebee gets over the whack and hugs Buddy tightly, yet mindful of their injuries.

Buddy could feel him quiver a bit.

They patted his back a bit before he turned to them.

“You shouldn’t be out walking.”--Bumblebee

“I know, but it got too quiet and I needed to see for—”--Buddy

“I made sure they stayed quiet.”—Ratchet

Ratchet stood behind Bumblebee with his arms crossed with a tired smile.

Buddy’s optics widen in surprise.

“Ratchet?! Ratchet!”--Buddy

Buddy tries to walk over to Ratchet but the medic walks to them instead.

Both Bee and Ratchet try and drag Buddy back to the berth.

“You know what I’m going to say...”--Ratchet

Buddy does a mocking salute.

“Got it Dr. of Doom.”--Buddy

“Don’t call me that. Anymore moving and you’re going to mess up my wielding job.”--Ratchet

Buddy sits back down on the berth trying to hide the pain that flared up when they did.

“How did you get here anyways. Not that its bad or anything.”--Buddy

“I followed his signal.”--Ratchet

“Who’s—"--Buddy

“Mine.”--Optimus

Buddy’s optics widen when they see Optimus standing by the corner.

He slowly approaches Buddy’s side.

Buddy just stared at him in disbelief.

“I know this may be a lot of information to say all at once Buddy… but I am—”--Optimus

“Prime.”--Buddy

Optimus quiets down and looks at Buddy’s optics that had started to spring leaks.

“Just…just come over here…”--Buddy

Buddy opens their arms and Optimus goes in for the hug.

Buddy tries their hardest not to cry when Bee and Ratchet join in.

They really do try.

“I swear to the Primes above, if ANY of you wise bots decide to pull a stunt like that… Great I can’t even threaten you guys now, thanks a lot. There goes my reputation…”--Buddy

The four of them ended up catching up a bit before the rest of the team came back from patrol.

Finally, Prime was home.

[ornii]

Hi how about an Enid Sinclair x Male! Reader. where both are werewolves and wake up together one morning after a full moon night in the woods[Not with clothes on, of course]. They haven't talked much to each other before but they know each other anyway Enid knows everyone. Throughout the day, both remember what happened and that there was nothing "bad" about it. They talk to each other in the evening, with Enid finally confessing to him that she actually thinks it's a bit of a shame that it didn't happen. The reader just looks at her in amazement while she says with a wink that she feels more for him. He can only grin and says me too when she already pounces on him and wants to catch up on things that didn't happen.

In the Pale Moonlight

Enid Sinclair X Male Werewolf

It was all a blur at the beginning, the sudden racing of your heartbeat. The heavy breathing you started to do, you couldn’t control this primal urge overcoming you suddenly. Your head began to bound with the sound of your own blood rushing from your heart, your eyes dart upward to the full moon. In that instance you immediately recognized What was transpiring. You attempted to stand up to reach the door, only for your feet to expand out of your favorite pear of slippers. Your body hair growing and in places no body hair should exist. Your only salvation was the wolfing chamber, specifically made for situations like this.

Leaning against the wall, you attempt to make it to the door of your dormitory to get outside, it you could only make a few steps before collapsing, and your mind slowly going blank, the howl of the night was the last thing you could make out before it was over. You had no idea how much time passed before you slowly began to regain control, feeling the dirt in your claws, on your feet.

Finally regaining normal vision you watch your hairy arm slowly revert back, the ill moonlight shining on the forest, slowly you sit up, eventually looking at your surroundings to figure out just where you’re at, your eyes do catch something as well, a hand. Since the moonlight had its own reflection and light, the shadows casted by the darkness hid much but you leaned in to get a closer look, until you were met face to face with a girl. You both keep back with a small scream. She looks down quickly, realizing she’s naked and covers her body. You advert yourself eyes.

“Shit! Im so sorry!” You say, trying not to let the embarrassment stop you from doing the right thing, you felt the cool wind against your back, your spine, and also realize you’re naked. You back into the shadows of a few trees to hide whatever shred of dignity and manhood you had.

“I’m really sorry about that..” you mutter. The girl, also shrouded by a few trees tries to be a bit more pleasant.

“I-it’s fine, I didn’t know I’d wolf out..” she said. When you looked more at her face you recognized the uniqueness of her hair, and the beauty of those teal green eyes, you couldn’t mistake her anywhere else.

“Enid?” You asks, and she slowly nods.

“Yeah, and you’re (Y/n).” She said, Enid was the social butterfly, if you could call her a butterfly of Nevermore so she’s the need to know kind of type of girl. You two stood a bit away from each other, trying not to let hormones and curiosity take over.

“So, first time wolfing out?” You ask, immediately realizing it’s a dumb question, you attempt to take it back but she answers.

“It is.” She says..

“Oh…” you murmur, you looked up to see the moons position and your tracking training kicks in.

“It’s gonna be daylight soon, we should probably get back to our dorms.”

“Yeah..” Enid agrees and you both move out of the moonlight but quickly back in, it was an awkward few tries before you decide to cut it short. “You should just go first.” You say.

“Okay, you aren’t gonna peek or anything will you?”

“Of course not, promise.” You turn around to face a tree and Enid hesitates for a moment, before leaving. You hear the rustling leaves and you think for a second, you decide this might be your only chance and you spoke up.

“Hey, Enid?” You say, she stopped and turned to see you were still staring at the tree.

“Congrats on, wolfing out.” You say, while it was embarrassing to be naked in the forest with a boy you barely knew, his words of encouragement meant more than she expected. She couldn’t help but smile at this.

“Thanks.” She, in a much happier mood, headed back to her dorm before the sun could expose anything, you quickly made haste after she made a good distance away from you.

The sunlight rose on the next day, and you were trying to remember most of your wolfing out. Sitting in class you were staring off into space, trying to remember most of it, it was a haze for the most of it, but you could remember that it was mostly running, howling and, fighting? Mostly just horsing around with Enid. Thankfully you didn’t harm anyone or her. Hopefully this was something you could just shove into the back of your mind and forget, but you couldn’t and you had to confirm your theory. Late In the evening you approached Enids form room and with caution, knocked. Knowing there’s a possibility you could run into her roommate, Wednesday was a nightmare.

“Hey.. uh, Enid? It’s (Y/n).” You say, “Can.. We talk?” You ask. Your hear it unlock and out comes Enid, more casual wear and still had the pink dye in her hair.

“Cmon.” She says and you enters, noticing the split of color and lack of on the other side of the room, definitely Wednesdays side, best for avoid it, might be cursed or something. You take a moment to sit on Enids bed as she approaches.

“There’s, something I’ve been meaning to ask you, I thought a lot about last night, I’m glad I didn’t hurt you or anyone. Do you remember last night?” You ask, she looks more bubbly than before.

“Yeah, it was.. Rough. Not like that kind of rough just, fun.. I really enjoyed it actually. I’ve never wolfed out before and I had someone to wolf out with.” Enid stated, and she looked you dead in the eyes and with the most obvious hint, said “It’s a real shame we couldn’t do anything else~” she winks and a sudden hotness rushes over your face. You blink a few times and put on a smile.

“Well, feelings mutual.” You say, and she takes the opportunity to close in. Sitting on your lap, you feel her palms land softly on your shoulder and her lips close in, reciprocating her feelings, your arms coyly wrap around her lower back and waist and feel her soft breath against your lips. Her eyes closed and you shut yours to feel her lips embrace yours, her soft giggling in your ear hummed. Lying on her bed, it was the perfect time for you two to catch up on the events that could have happened last night

[cowboyfromh3ll]

ok this might be a lot but it’s a purely self indulgent vision i have: a one shot about reader who’s a young shop owner in town and is sweet on a certain arthur morgan who’s been frequenting her shop more and more lately. she is aware that he’s an outlaw and doesn’t care but unfortunately an odriscoll does notice arthur in her shop talking to her multiple times so one day he comes in demanding to know what business she has with him and where his camp is. she pretends not to know what he’s talking about but it just makes him lock the front door so he can force the answers out of her. noncon but not all the way, just a lot of touching and taunting her about how she must wish it was morgan touching her like that. but of course arthur realizes something is wrong and breaks the front door down and saves her just before the man takes her, go crazy with the beat down since i know you like gore lol. and some comfort in the end please, happy ending and him promising not to let anyone lay a hand on her again 🫶🏻 sorry this is very very specific i’m excited to see what you come up with!

Love/Hate

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)

Sorry if I went too far with the gore

Warnings: Graphic depictions of gore, violence, non consensual touching

You were often reminded of all the way he was likely dangerous—you tried to imagine that the scars littered across his hands and scarcely visible on his arms from under his rolled up sleeves were some sort of malicious incantation carved into his skin; if uttered aloud, some sort of evil being would conjure up before you. And you would ignore the morbid implications of the specks of blood dotted on his skin; a few missed spots while he was cleaning himself off you guessed. You supposed that the gun belt that sat loosely on his lips would’ve been enough to cement fear inside you had it been anyone else, but there was something so undeniably charming about this stranger. 

After inheriting your late father’s general store, you were left with a loneliness so palpable you saw it in every corner and crevice of your life. The solitary emptiness of your home seemed terribly occupied by feelings of grief and emptiness. Even something meant to signify something so destitute took up space. 

You truly believed that your attraction to Arthur wasn’t rooted in your loneliness, though it certainly eased those feelings, but rather, a longing for something new. You had noticed he had been frequenting your shop more and more lately despite claiming he was constantly moving around, so that had to count for something. You sneaked a few free items into whatever he came to buy, insisting he take it with him and to consider it a gift. Transactions would allow for brief conversations about what Arthur had been up to as of late, and slowly over time he’d be much more transparent about what he did. Normally, Arthur would’ve expected some sort of stern warning from shop owners telling him to steer trouble clear of their shops, but he never got that from you. In fact, his returns were subtly encouraged by your welcoming smiles that spoke of a familiarity so tender he couldn’t help but feel at peace in your presence.

Arthur would find himself handing you trinkets from his journeys in return for free items, subtly flirting by telling you they reminded him of you. There was a certain magnetism about your shop, because no matter how far he was from Annesburg, he always returned there just to visit it. He became a regular visitor, and you were not at all put off by his past and the life he was living. 

The passing of your father also forced you to grow up much faster in a way, but the idea of boys not ever crossing your mind. There was hardly any time to spend dallying around them when you had to worry about taking care of yourself. So the thing you and Arthur had made you feel like a teen girl again, giggling and tripping over yourself to get one last glance at him as he left your shop, and trying your best not to fiddle in place the closer he got to you. You never imagined a man would have you running home and screaming into your pillow while kicking your feet. 

Living in a mining town meant the regular passage of patrons going through your shop. The grimy faces of miners blurred into one, and overtime it seemed as though the interior of your shop adopted a smog from all the filthy visitors that would visit you. There was the occasional kind stranger, and in a town like this, even a small polite smile was a greater show of kindness than you could ever ask for. You guessed that was another reason Arthur stood out so much to you. 

You hadn’t been the only one to notice Arthur’s frequent visits, though. The regular passing of patrons meant anyone could easily pass themselves off as a local. And in a town so corrupt, there was the lingering threat of violence that would pounce on you when you least expected it. Even innocent shop owners weren’t safe. 

It was a situation you couldn’t have foreseen. One Saturday evening where you had closed particularly late, you were left with only a few more customers until you had to shoo them out. One particularly persistent patron insisted he stay a little longer. You stood behind the counter exasperated, tapping your foot and looking at the clock hung on your wall. You were ten minutes past closing, and your patience had been stretched far too long now. 

“I’m sorry sir, you’re going to have to leave. We’re past closing.” You said firmly, you cleared your throat and pursed your lips, feeling an unexplainable sense of dread. The man did not respond, he simply kept pacing past the walls, looking through the shelves as if he were waiting for an item to show itself and conjure up before him. But you knew he wasn’t actually looking for anything; he would’ve found what he was looking for by now if he were truly shopping, or at the very least, he would’ve asked you. 

“Sir.” You said a little louder. 

“Do you know Arthur Morgan?” He asked suddenly, stopping in his tracks and turning to face you. You tried to pretend the sudden stillness didn’t disturb you, trying your best to not appear intimidated as you shuffled behind your counter. If anything, you thought, you’d be able to reach for the gun behind the counter as quickly as you could. The question itself was strange. You knew Arthur was an outlaw, and that he probably dealt with some less than formidable people, but why would he come to you about it.

“Excuse me…?” Your mouth became uncomfortably dry, the words squeaking out. 

“Don’t act dense, Miss. You know who the hell I’m talking about.” He raised his voice, making you flinch. He seemed to get a sense of enjoyment out of seeing you so scared, taking a sudden step forward and laughing at the way you moved back as well. 

“I see you two, flirting and giggling all the time. You know him very well, I’m sure of that.” 

You said nothing in return, only staring back intensely. 

“Now I know he tells you stuff about his life,” he locked your front door. “So tell me where his camp is.” 

Your stomach squeezed and dropped, flipping painfully as fear hit you like a punch to the gut. A cold sense of panic rattled through your ribs and your body became painfully rigid, all sense of direction and resolve leaving you. In your petrified state, you could not bring yourself to reach for the gun. You had never been in such close proximity to the possibility of violence. You had been cat called occasionally, some people would yell outside your shop, too drunk out of their minds to know what they were even saying, and Annesburg wasn’t the safest, but you never thought that it would actually happen to you. You felt the pressure of tears build in your sinuses as he rapidly approached your counter, his patience far past spent. 

“TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK HE STAYS.” He slammed his hands on the counter, leaning over it. Your bottom lip quivered as he yelled at you, your sense of sight and hearing becoming fuzzy as your body gave into panic. 

“I-I don’t know!” You sobbed, unable to move even when he rounded the counter. You stiffened your body as one would before receiving a large impact, but it did not come. Instead, he grabbed your shoulders and pulled your body against his. At this point, your fight instincts had kicked in. 

“Liar.”

“Wait, stop! What are you doing?!” You put your elbows up between your chests, attempting to push him off in that manner. He caged you in by wrapping his arms around your waist, and as much as you pushed away his face, he remained persistent in keeping close to you. Your body began to thrash wildly, kicking and throwing your limbs every which way to force him off. 

“I don’t want this!” Your porcelain voice quivered with cracks. You craned your neck away as far as you could as he began stroking your cheek with a bony finger. 

“You’re lying.” He said flatly. “I’m sure you wish it was Arthur doing this to you, right?” He grabbed your ass harshly, so hard that the dig of his rough fingertips squeezing the flesh became unbearable. 

“I’ll scream.” You threatened. 

“I know. Which is why I’ll fill your mouth before then.”

Those words were the perfect kick in the rear to set you into a full blown fight. If you weren’t thrashing before, you definitely were now. Several more waves of terror swept over you, pulling you deeper and deeper into its mindless depths. He meant it. He meant to violate every part of your being for his own sick enjoyment. It wasn’t about getting answers anymore, it was about satiating some sadistic part of him. You were trapped, and there was no getting out. The only time you remembered feeling remotely this afraid was when your father passed and you realized you would be on your own. 

You avoided his leering gaze as you felt his vulgar hands continue to paw at your chest and ass, attempting to snake his hand between your legs as you squeezed them together as hard as you could. He continued to tug at your clothing, successfully untucking your shirt and struggling to undo your buttons. Your thrashing, thankfully, made it too difficult for him to undo them. 

The two of you raised your heads as Arthur came crashing through the front door, shards of glass flying from the window, shattered from the sheer impact of Arthur’s full body weight pummeling into the door. What he saw before him was terrifying; your clothes half undone as a stranger groped you mindlessly, struggling and thrashing against his hold while trying to keep your clothes on. Arthur saw all this in the split second it took for him to rush towards your assailant, rounding the counter before the two of you could react, and ripping the man away from you. With a guttural yell, he threw the man over, punching him square in the jugular. The clip to his jaw caused his eyes to flicker up to whites; you saw blood on his lips, his teeth; and you wondered just how powerful Arthur’s singular punch must’ve been. 

You weren’t sure if Arthur intended the full damage done to the stranger’s skull—partially the angle of the counter, and partially the momentum of Arthur’s punch. The back left corner of the stranger’s head slammed into the sharp corner of the counter and produced a gash that began bleeding heavily in mere seconds. The life threatening wound didn’t stop Arthur from beating the man further, instead spurring him on to increase the damage; and in the next moment, Arthur’s hands and clothes were covered in so much slick blood he appeared to have just gutted a wild animal. 

The stranger cowered on the floor, curled into a fetal position with both hands cradling his skull as he tried to protect himself. You stood there in bewilderment as Arthur deliberately targeted the tender wound on his head, willed by some force other than terror to stand there and watch. 

“You son of a bitch.” Arthur spoke through grit teeth, beating the swelling flesh of the stranger’s face. Every few seconds, quick spurts of gore consistently and theatrically sprayed out of the man’s head; it had a strangely mystifying feel to it, as though it were some morbid fountain in some wealthy person’s back yard. He kept trying to stand, only stumbling back down and crawling away a few more inches. 

There was something terrifying about the way Arthur took the ankles of the man and dragged him back beneath him, and in the second that it took him to do this, he unsheathed his knife at the same time. With a knife in hand, Arthur was on top of the man like a lover. The stranger still had some fight in him as he attempted to gouge Arthur’s eyes, smearing blood all over his face as Arthur slammed his shoulders to the floor. Arthur twisted his head to avoid the man’s pressing fingers, catching them with his teeth and biting down; if he bit any harder, he might’ve snapped them like carrots. With his left forearm, he forced the man’s head back, splattering more blood onto the floorboards. There was a hideous familiarity in Arthur’s eyes, something that was downright chilling to the stranger. 

“I’ll kill you again in hell.” With that, Arthur dug the tip of his knife against the man’s jugular and dragged, a sanguine wound opening immediately in its wake. His neck transformed into a gaping red cavity of muscle and exposed arteries, and once Arthur saw the last inklings of life evaporate from the man’s eyes, he rose. 

His chest heaved as he stared down at the body, wiping his forehead on the back of his jacket sleeve before he turned to look at you. Arthur looked down at his hands then at you with all the confusion of a recent amnesiac; as if he were the victim of some unlikely attack. 

“(Name). I-” 

You shook your head, your bottom lip quivering again as you threw yourself at him. You found his imbrued clothes and skin to be strangely comforting, and he quickly returned the hug. Neither of you cared for the staining of clothes. In the moment, all that mattered was your well being. 

“Arthur, he-” You sobbed, unable to finish your own sentence. “I know sweetheart, I know.” He cooed, stroking your hair, which quickly became bloodsoaked. He kissed your temple repeatedly, coming to cup your cheek and stroking it with his thumb. You relaxed your tense body against his, occasionally becoming rigid with sobs and trembles. You buried your head in the junction of his shoulder and neck, staining his clothes with your tears. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Arthur’s own voice began to crack. “I should’ve never let that happen to you. I’m so so sorry. You didn’t deserve that”

You raised your wet face, nodding your head at Arthur. “I’m just glad you got here when you did. And… Thank you. That crazy bastard. Who knows what else he would’ve done…” 

“Let’s not think about that sweetheart. Let me take you home. I’ll uh… take care of the mess later.”

You sniffled and nodded, glancing briefly at the body. “Thank you.” You repeated. 

“No need to thank me, (Name). I’ll make sure no man ever lays a hand on you again. You understand?” 

You nodded again. You understood the violence it took to be this gentle.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Love/Hate - Dystopia

[cynosdaydream]

Could you do a fic with Kazuhiro and his s/o that he had to to leave behind when he fled from the vision hunt decree?

I don’t have anything specific in mind I just feel like this idea has a lots interesting paths to take. Love letters? Reunion? A tearful good bye?

Chasing Freedom

Kazuha's flowery language won't do anything to help him when he has to explain to you why he's departing.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 悪魔の子 / Child Of Evil - Ai Higuchi

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮��▯▯

Word Count: 2.8k Author's notes: SORRY this took so long to get out September to October was my exam period and I needed a break after. Proof read by my skrunklje @noxellaa CWs: Fluff, Eventual Angst , (maybe comfort in part 2 if I can) GN!Reader

Under the reign of the almighty Raiden Shogun, Inazuma had turned into a terrifying nation, not just to outsiders, but to the citizens residing within as well. Visions were being confiscated left and right, leaving countless people ambitionless and in despair.

A vision was known to be a blessing bestowed by Celestia itself, only being given to specific people. Those people who got a vision felt elated, felt like the vision gave them worth, a reason to keep pushing forward for the greater good of Teyvat.

But what would happen if that very item that gave these people motivation to push on and help others was taken away from them, against their own will? 

The citizens in Inazuma didn’t have to leave that question to their imagination, as they were now experiencing it first hand. You could see those people who were stripped of their visions slowly lose that special spark that they always had, gradually turning into shells of their former selves.

You had witnessed one of your friends, a former vision wielder, have their vision forcefully taken from them in front of a sea of people, at the hands of the Raiden Shogun. The pure terror and hopelessness in their eyes and the way they pleaded for it back was enough to make your blood run cold. 

However, in the midst of all this horror and uncertainty, you found solace in a quiet, silver-haired poet called Kazuha.

You had met him on the shores of the city, sitting atop a tree near the waters. You had gone there for a bit of peace and quiet, further away from the city, leaving any worries you had far behind. Luckily for you, the soldiers usually patrolling the nation were not present, probably somewhere else harassing an innocent civilian for their vision. However, you had felt an unfamiliar presence near you.

Thinking it could be one of the soldiers, you whipped your head around, scanning over the vicinity. Then, your eyes landed on a figure sitting in a tree, gazing into the distance.

His silver hair and the single red streak that ran through it enraptured you, unconsciously making you drawn to him. 

The man didn’t seem like he could cause you any harm,  so you decided to join him up on the tree, but not before making your decision known to him lest he got startled and started acting in self defence.

“Hey, you mind me coming up there?” You asked, waiting for his response. The stranger gave you a quick nod of approval, accompanied by a charming smile. Even though the corners of his lips merely turned upwards slightly, it was enough to stun you for a moment and make your heart skip a beat. Without hesitating further, you hoisted yourself up onto the branch that the man was sitting on. 

Numerous shades of red and hues of scattered orange painted the once cerulean afternoon sky, the sun disappearing into the horizon through the sea. It was strangely comforting, watching the sunset with some random stranger that you had only met minutes before.

The noise from the city slowly faded, the almost always present laughs and cries of the children growing fainter by the minute, everyone retiring to their homes before the sun set.

This change in atmosphere made you feel more at ease, and your body sank into the peaceful ambience. 

However, before the sun had fully set, the stranger had turned towards you and said, “The soldiers will be here to patrol soon, when the sun sets. Would you mind if I walked you home?” He jumped off the tree, then extended his hand out to you as an offer. It was safe to say you were thoroughly surprised by this, but nevertheless, you took his hand in yours and hopped off the tree as well.

You felt the bandages that wrapped around his hands graze yours, which had sparked your curiosity about him even further. Was he a swordsman? You wondered. Without another word being said, you started to walk back to your house. A nagging part at the back of your mind had told you it was dangerous to share your address with some stranger, buy you had felt comfortable around him, like his presence eased your nervousness about everything that was going on. 

The breeze that you had felt on the sea shores significantly lessened when you had reached your home.

“This is my house.” You told him, turning to go inside. That was when you had realised that your hand was still in his, and the texture of his bandages was still present on your hands.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice…” You hastily apologised, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. He was just as quick to reassure you, “Don’t worry about it.” As you turned around to head inside again, you could have sworn that he wanted to say something else.

Your suspicions proved to be correct when he tapped you on the shoulder and whispered, “My name…is Kaedehara Kazuha. I enjoyed your company today, if you would like to accompany me on occasions like this again, you can find me at the same spot.”

And he was gone from your sight, as swift as the wind. 

What a strange man. You thought, but decided to consider his offer anyway. The evening with him had calmed your frayed nerves about the dire situation in Inazuma, anyways. Kaedehara Kazuha. “What a pretty name.”  You muttered, tucking yourself into bed.

That night, your dreams had contained a strange amount of vermillion red. 

As the sun rose the next day, you found yourself walking towards the very same place that you had been yesterday. And on that very same tree, sat the very same silver-haired young man, now with a pen and paper in his hands, gazing whimsically into the distance.

This time, you did not hesitate in climbing up the tree, sitting next to him, closer than the day before. Kazuha did not seem startled, even offering you a kind smile.

“I’ve been stuck on this poem for a while, do you mind helping me?” He asked, holding the piece of paper towards you.

It was slightly yellowed, with small tears forming at the corners of it. Your eyes then travelled to the words written on the paper, each one acting as a singular thread, weaving and intertwining with each other, creating a beautiful masterpiece. His choice of words was perfect, there was no way you could criticise  his existing work. The poem painted a picture, and you had to continue it like a movie scene. 

From then on, your meet-ups had gotten more frequent, and you started meeting up in other places than the tree. Sometimes, the both of you would stroll through the city in the evening, savouring the momentary bliss before the soldiers increased their alertness during nightfall. Other times, when the wind called out to Kazuha stronger than usual, you would pack a light lunch to carry along with you to eat. It consisted of a few slices of toasted bread, a stick of butter to compliment it, and lastly, one grilled fish.

The meal was simple, but filled both yours and Kazuha’s stomachs for the rest of the afternoon. After that, you would chat with him as the gentle breeze caressed your face, allowing you to shut your eyes and simply enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.

Through these chats, you learned that he had another friend once, named Tomo. 

Kazuha then told you the entire story, staring wistfully at the ground after he finished. The area around you seemed to quieten, the silence weighing heavy on your chest, and you then noticed the electro vision hanging next to his anemo one.

His experience was similar to your own, making you recall the look in your friend’s eyes after their vision was confiscated from them. You laid a hand on the man’s shoulder, the simple action speaking a thousand words all at once.

“I’m…sure he was an amazing person.” You said, still slightly unsure if that was the correct thing to tell Kazuha. After all, what was the best thing to say to a person in a situation like this? You’ve always felt like ‘I’m sorry’ wasn’t quite right, as it wouldn’t do anything to comfort the person. He nodded his head. “Indeed.”

That day, you felt like you grew significantly closer to him, and got to know him on a more personal level than most people, perhaps. It made you feel special, like he truly trusted you. Over time, you developed more…intense feelings towards him. It went beyond just friendship; you wanted to hold him in your arms, wanted his flowery poems to be written with you in mind, wanted him to stay with you, and not become a fleeting memory. 

And on one windy day, you had tried your hand at poetry earlier in the morning. It wasn’t anything as fancy or intricate as Kazuha’s. just a simple piece professing your love to him. 

From the brightest winter star, to the shimmer of an amethyst,

nothing could even hold a candle to you, Kaedehara Kazuha.

Similarly, no amount of existing words can proficiently explain

this feeling I feel towards you.

Far beyond mere friendship, perhaps dwindling on the line

of unrelenting adoration.

So, would you grant me this honour to be yours,

until the end of time?

And on that day, you climbed up the tree as usual, taking your regular spot next to Kazuha. “Here. I dabbled in poetry today, and I thought you would like to read it.” You spoke, placing the poem in his hands. Kazuha smiled, admitting, “I’ve always wondered what kind of poetry you would write should you have written some. I look forward to reading this.”

You planned to give him the piece of parchment and run all the way home, but now your panicked nerves wouldn’t allow your fight or flight reactions to activate, instead opting to freeze instead. Your eyes carefully scanned Kazuha, looking for any signs of disdain or a downturn of his lips that showcased his discomfort towards your confession.

However, his eyes widened as his eyes travelled down the parchment, his head resting on his fist. Kazuha’s cheeks turned red, and he stuttered out, “I am not usually at a loss for words…but…yes, I would be honoured for you to be mine, and I yours, until destiny do us apart.” 

And from that day on, the both of you would savour each peaceful moment with each other. Sometimes taking a stroll around Inazuma and picking up Sea Ganodermas in the shallow waters, sometimes just quietly sitting side by side.

On one of your dates walking through the city, a keychain in the shape of an orange maple leaf caught your eye, which reminded you of your lover. It was the last one hanging on the hook, and being worried that someone would snag it before you, you let go of Kazuha’s hand and hurriedly dashed towards the store. He was taken by surprise, and was not hesitant to chase after you. 

“Love, what did you run all the way here for-,” His sentence was cut short by you taking one of his hands in yours and dropping the keychain in it.

Smiling, you told him, “This keychain reminded me of you, and it was the last one available, so of course I had to buy it for you!” Kazuha gazed at you fondly while thanking you. His expression, full of sheer adoration, was burned in your memory up until one fateful day. 

The weather was considerably good, with the clouds partially obscuring the sun, allowing a few rays of sunlight to shine through onto the land of eternity. A brisk wind blew through the country, rustling the autumn leaves which fell onto the stony pathways like flakes of snow.

The day before, Kazuha had asked you to meet him at the docks in the early afternoon, just before the sun’s heat became more intense. You went about your day, and when the clock struck around midday, you wandered to the docks of Inazuma.

And sure enough, there was your silver-haired lover, his hand clutched tightly around something. But instead of the usual soft smile he had on his face, his expression was scarily monotone, borderline downcast. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about him was off.

Choosing to talk to him to find out what the cause of this was, you gingerly asked him, “Hey, Kazu. What did you ask me to come here for today? We don’t usually come here for dates.” This seemed to perplex Kazuha even further, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“There is no easy way to say this, my dove, but…I have been hiding for far too long,” Kazuha breathed out, voice shaky. You were confused, his wording now doing the opposite of making you feel at peace.

“Kazuha, what do you mean? Now isn’t the time to use flowery language with me, love. Please tell me what’s happening.” You said, clutching at his arm.

Why did he ask you to come to the docks specifically? What was he hiding? Or hiding from? What was even happening?

Your head spun with the amount of questions you wanted to ask, but you waited for your lover to give you an answer. 

Kazuha couldn’t look you in the eye as he explained, “After Tomo…passed during battle, I stole his vision to have something to remember him by. But that made me a wanted man here, and I am afraid I cannot hide in this nation for any longer. And…” He paused, not sure how to continue.

“I feel…suffocated here. The rules and restrictions imposed here are taking a toll on me, for my heart yearns to travel the world. I long to see the sights and views of other nations, the great mountains of Liyue and the vast deserts of Sumeru. So, forgive me, my dove, but I cannot stay here any longer.” 

The silence after he finished his explanation weighed heavy on your shoulders, making your grip on his arm tighten while you took it all in. During this, Kazuha gently pried open your other clenched fist, and dropped something very familiar into your hands. It was the keychain that you had bought for him a few months back.

“It’s.. something to remember me by as well. I know that you gave it to me as a gift, but if it reminds you of me, then…I want you to keep it close.” Your fingers tightened around the keychain, the spiky edges of it digging into your skin as the full realisation of what was happening hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“So…you’re really leaving, huh? After everything, all the memories…you’re going to leave that all behind, Kazuha?” You whispered, as if afraid saying it too loud would make the impact of the entire thing hit even harder than it already did. Your eyes turned watery, and the tears that had been held back by a desire to not seem weak in front of your lover finally fell, one after the other until it turned into a steady stream of tears.

The clouds seemed to obstruct the sun even more than just now, the rays of light now mostly blocked, save for a faint glow of light shining through. 

Meanwhile, Kazuha was slightly taken aback by the use of his entire name. Usually, you would call him endearments like ‘love’ or a shortened form of his name, ‘Kazu’ being the one he was most fond of. However, there was none of that now.

“I’m sorry, dove. I know this isn’t easy for you, but this will not be our final goodbye, for I will return.” 

You finally mustered up the strength to look up, and you saw that Kazuha’s eyes were now glazing over as well. A feeling of despair washed over you, but what could you do? If he was a wanted man and had the desire to travel the world, then who were you to stop him? As his lover, you could only want the best for him. “I wish the best for you, Kazu. I’ll be just fine here.”

“Don’t wait for me, okay? Live your life, and run. Don’t throw away your freedom for me,” 

Even though you tried your best to sound happy, tears dripped down your face more intensely than before as you smiled sorrowfully at Kazuha, smile not quite reaching your eyes. His resolve seemed to tremble now, gritting his teeth together as he silently shook with sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I promise I’ll come back, one day. Please don’t forget me, my beloved.”

And with that, he tenderly gave you one last kiss before saying goodbye and heading onto the towering ship behind him.

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

An idea that  @spectrum-spectre had inspired a scene in the dark pits of my mind.  Soulmate  AU’s in which people see color at the sight of their soulmate. The rules aren’t specific on whether that is only true if the meeting is in person, or if looking at photographs or videos brings on the same effect.  Soulmates AU Part 2 ---------------------------- Steve returns from the kitchen holding a large bowl of popcorn and two cans of coke from the fridge. Dustin’s been staying with him for a while, and as usual their afternoon consisted of watching television until their bodies screamed for sleep.  This particular afternoon Steve let Dustin choose what they’d watch. Dustin was usually left to make the choice simply because Steve wanted him to be comfortable, but it wasn’t something they mentioned. He’d so far been enjoying Dustin’s pick, the MTV music awards. There had been several artist that Steve adored. Tears for Fears. Madonna.  Dustin however was watching for Corroded Coffin, his newest favorite band that he listened to seemingly nonstop these days. The kid was obsessed, but again Steve didn’t complain because his home was Dustin’s home if he accepted it. It was nice to have someone around to liven up the overwhelming emptiness of the Harrington estate.  Steve set the popcorn down on the coffee table, dropping down next to Dustin on the couch, when his eyes came up to see the television screen color burst from the center of his gaze flooding out to adjust his vision until everything settled and grey was changed with vivid colors he’d only heard about in books.  His soulmate... the only issue was the angle of the camera was showing dozen’s of faces. He’d never be able to tell which one of them sparked the change. It was the whole point of it, making finding soulmates easier. Of course Steve would find a way to fuck his up.... he’d never find them. That show was several states away, the likelyhood of ending up in a room with one of them was nearly impossible. Even if he did, now he wouldn’t have a way to tell him who it was.  “ I think I am going to go to bed..” Steve hums.  “ Bed? Steve it’s eight thirty? “  “ Yeah... Work was just a lot today and I guess it’s just hitting me how tired I am” Steve explained.  Dustin didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t argue.  “ Okay.. Goodnight man. “  “ Night”  Steve cried his eyes out that night... over someone he didn’t even know.  ----------- “ thanks for driving me Steve.. I can’t believe they are coming Chicago on a day I can actually attend the convention. “ Dustin stood next to him in the line to get in to meet one of the guy’s from Corroded Coffin.. Steve planned on leaving the line before Dustin went behind the curtain, but he didn’t feel like being alone in here. Everyone seemed chill.. He was just feeling overwhelmed.  “ No problem Dustin.”  Slowly the line progressed foward, Steve eventually dropping out to go stand at the edge of the booth to wait. Letting himself get distracted by the excitement of those leaving the booth. Smiling at them as they ran out with their autographed pictures. He caught sight of Eddie.. or at least that’s who he assumed it was with the sign. The guy was pretty. His smile was bright and filled his face, dimples standing out to soften the rest of the edge his clothing might lead you to think he had.  When he heard Dustin’s voice Steve could only smile at the pure joy and excitement of the kid meeting one of his favorite people. He couldn’t remember hearing him so happy about anything other than when he’d finished building his Cerebro last summer.  The curtain opened, Steve’s eyes met Eddie’s for the first time that day as the man was telling Dustin goodbye.  They didn’t make it far from the booth before he heard someone calling Dustin’s name.. them both turning around to find Eddie running toward them.  “ Sorry I didn’t know your name...” Eddie apologized, taking Steve’s hands in his own. A small crowd forming around them with people muttering how Steve was living everyone's dream right now.  “ Steve? Is everything okay man? “ Steve questioned, Eddie’s face falling as he noticed the utter confusion written over Steve’s features.  “ you didn’t see it” Eddie questioned. “ See what?  “ The color? You didn’t. Oh shit. “  “ The color?..” Steve started, his eyes looking off in thought “ Oh... it was you. On the tv.. I must have seen you. “  “ TV? “  “ The MTV Awards...”  “ Steve that was nearly a year ago... you’ve had color for? “  “ Nearly a year yeah...”  “ Oh shit..” Eddie thought allowed, processing that the confusion was because Steve had been seeing color the whole time. “ Can I take you out sometime? You know if you want. I don’t know if you do this whole thing, but I think it would be pretty cool”  “ Eddie”  “ Yeah”  “ I’d love to go out with you sometime”  “ Great” Eddie cheered, a small smile pulling at his lips, offering his sharpie over to Steve. “ just write your number on my arm”  Eddie tugged his sleeve up to give Steve space in a place that could be hidden on his arm. Both of them smiling like fools the entire time.  “ You should get back to your fans.. “  “ Yeah.. I will call you tonight. “  “ I can’t wait” 

[dirtysvthoughts]

Can you do a ot13 reaction when they discover that you have your tongue pierced? I love your work🥰

a/n: thanks anon! 🥹 sorry this took so long to get to, but i hope you enjoy! <3 will try and post more this week since i’m another break from work!

tags/warnings: female!reader, piercings (specifically tongue), minor smut (making out, going down south, etc.), not really proofread, will proofread later!

seungcheol: you’re both in a heavy make out session, his tongue touches yours and he notices the metal-like feeling. when you tell him you got a piercing, he would just smirk at you and the rest is history

jeonghan: he teases you one day and you stick your tongue out at him - once he sees the piercing he nearly freezes, cause he had no idea that a piercing would have that big of an effect on him. would then go into dom mode and tell what do you with your piercing on his body.

joshua: hear me out - body worship, your tongue piercing, and shua’s hands all in your hair, pushing you in deeper as you pleasure his body with your tongue, moaning at how the “cool” metal contrasts with his hot body.

junhui: why do i feel like this man would want you two to have matching tongue piercings so that way you can both experience a sense of heightened pleasure if you go down on each other or if kiss him down his body.. would be playfully sexy with the piercings too, putting the piercing on everywhere but the area you wanted it most

soonyoung: would be so attracted and turned on to see another piercing on your body. he loved your piercings and would always get handsy with them - but this tongue piercing?! oh god, he would go feral. would crash into your mouth, making out with you as if you were his last meal, repeatedly telling you how hot you were and how bad he wanted you

wonwoo: pls your piercing is just another way to assert his dominance 🙃 would TELL you how to use your piercing to pleasure him as you go down on him - will have you writhing and itching for him by the time one of you is on the edge

jihoon: even tho he’s not a person to get piercings, i believe he would heavily admire them on a partner. you could be minding your own business, running your tongue through your lips and he would find it so hot. will try his hardest not to let his composure fall apart.

seokmin: the baby would be so amazed that you got your tongue pierced. he would ask a lot of questions, wondering if it hurt, how long did it take, and how does it feel and you decide to take him up on that last question. you kiss him in the mouth, allowing his tongue to come in contact with yours, and a switch just goes off in him. prepare for a long night 👀

mingyu: another one to find your piercing very very hot. will either go full-on dom and use your piercing to bring him to cum OR will completely be under your mercy, begging you to go faster as you lick his chest teasingly before getting him inside you.

minghao: if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a thousand times, your body is art to minghao and any additions to it just add to the beauty and complexity. would definitely make out slowly with you for what feels like hours and hours, mentally groaning at how your piercing felt in his mouth.

vernon: there can be two sides with this man - either he’ll be chill about it or you’ll get a really shocked reaction, which’ll probably go into something more. would probably love having you leave hickies on his neck with the extra sensations and sensitivity of the piercing getting him so worked up.

seungkwan: would be “mad” about it, because here you go adding another reason to his sexual frustrations. would daydream about your using your piercing in unholy ways, his visions so intense that he might even cum in his pants

chan: like seokmin, he would also be genuinely interested in your piercing, but would also be a tease about it - “just another way for us to pleasure each other, don’t you think?” he says as he winks and you furiously blush, avoiding eye contact with him. best believe later on that day, he using that piercing in more ways than one to bring you to your knees in ecstasy.

[lunar-years]

How’s the arm?

Tentative footsteps patter over the hardwood floor, inching closer; but it’s Jamie’s voice that reaches him first: “How’s the arm?”

Roy immediately bristles, unable to stop his voice from rising several decibels as he snaps, “I’ve already told you half a fucking dozen times in the past hour, Jamie, it’s the exact fucking same as it was twenty minutes ago, and yes I’m fucking fine, and I’ll kindly remind you again that you fucking promised me you’d stop fucking asking—” he stops mid-sentence, registering what exactly Jamie said at the same time the man crosses into his line of vision, letting Roy spot the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He blinks, momentarily thrown. Arm?

Jamie shrugs, and even that small motion is somehow made exuberant under his determinedly bright demeanor. His face breaks into a gleeful smile, ear-to-ear, right pleased with himself. 

Fucking hell. Roy has no idea how the prick has managed to stay this damn cheerful all day, considering he’s spent the whole of it waiting on his temporarily useless, opposite-of-cheerful boyfriend hand and foot. Keeping him confined to the miserable prison of his living room sofa, flipping through the sport channels with a commendable level of steady enthusiasm—even though the best they’ve had on offer were the bloody table tennis Olympic trials that ended an hour again—and fretting, every single second of every blasted minute, over Roy and his knee. Whether the pillow under Roy’s knee is fluffed enough, and whether Roy's morning brew has gone cold and could do for urgent replacement, and whether Roy needs help getting to the toilet before he pisses down his own leg. Jamie’s there all right, for all of it, and he’s bloody relentless. 

Roy appreciates it. Truly, he does. It’s also driving him completely up the fucking wall, just a little. Two things can be true. 

Jamie keeps right on smiling. “What?” he says innocently, sitting down next to Roy and handing over his latest freshly-warmed mug of tea, “I’m not having you on, it was a real question. Since you’re going to be a bit out of commission on the really agile shit for a while and all,” here he nods sympathetically in the direction of Roy’s mangled up, patchworked knee, the frankensteinish surgery scar thankfully covered up by fresh dressings (also courtesy of Jamie) and tucked atop Keeley’s fluffiest pillow. “Sorry,” he continues in a stage-whisper, hands going up like Roy's a feral cat he's trying not to set off, “know you want me to pretend like this ain’t happening, and I’m trying, swear down! But, well. Me point is, so long as your arm’s still in working form...we can at least exchange handies!” He beams at him again with great pride, like mutual handjobs are the certifiable cure to Roy’s every ailment, and Jamie’s the dutiful nurse who gets to present the good news and administer the necessary dosage.

(And well, a wank’s a wank, so. Roy’s willing to give it a shot.)

Instead of saying that, he chucks the pillow behind his back at his boyfriend's head and rolls his eyes in Jamie's direction, faking a pout. “All you care about is my cock,” he accuses half-heartedly. 

“Yes, poor, hard-done Roy, with a dead sexy boyfriend who wants him for his body as much as his mind,” Jamie grins, leaning in to give him a kiss. With lips practically still brushing Roy’s own, he adds, gentler, “I also thought, um. It might help, you know? With what you were saying earlier. I’m really sorry I made you feel like that.” 

Roy brow furrows. He wades back amongst all the day's many horrors to figure out which one in particular Jamie could be referring to. It must’ve been the last time, when he was snapping at the pair of them to stop bloody asking about his knee all the time. You’re both making me feel like a fucking pensioner. Then, to Jamie specifically, I’m not actually your fucking grandad, you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m two steps from the care home. It was around that time Keeley excused herself for a drive to the pharmacy, bristling at him with intense displeasure and that familiar get yourself together look in her eyes on her way out. Soon after, after an comfortable stretch of moody silence, Jamie muttered something about more tea, and disappeared into the kitchen for far longer than it took to whip up a new brew. 

So yeah, he owes them both an apology, clearly. Again.

He looks at his boyfriend, now aching with guilt on top of everything else, most pressingly the persistent sting that seems to extend his whole leg, making it very hard to focus on anything good, even his very good boyfriend. His very good boyfriend who’s only trying to help him. Fuck. 

Jamie’s still got his eyes locked on his, searching his face for reassurance. Hesitant, like he’s half expecting Roy to get angry and snap at him again for bringing it up. It’s so sincere it slices Roy smoothly in half.

“I,” he starts. Shuts his mouth. Starts again, “I’m sorry for that, babe. Look, I won't pretend I didn't mean some of it. I do feel…I dunno. Not even old, just…useless? I guess. But you’re not the one making me feel like that, it’s my own shit. I never should have said that to you, or to Keeley. I likehow you take care of me.” He threads his fingers through Jamie’s and gives them a squeeze. “It’s just…hard for me to let you.” He chokes over the last part a bit, from the clumsy embarrassment of his own feelings. Immediately redirects his gaze onto their locked palms.

But Jamie responds without hesitation, his shoulders already relaxing as he says briskly, “You’re forgiven.” Like it’s simple. Like Roy’s someone easy to forgive. Fuck, he still doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Jamie leans back, smile softer now, more natural. It takes on a cheeky edge as he adds, “And I know a way you can make it up to me, yeah?” with a wink and a crude hand gesture. Right back around to where they started.

Roy rolls his eyes again, filled with adoration for this ridiculous man. “We can’t fix everything with sex.” 

“We can make a brave go of trying, though," he offers solemnly, lips quirked.

Roy laughs despite himself, but it’s cut off by a sharp sting to his knee, making him wince before he can help it. His boyfriend’s face droops immediately. This time though, Jamie keeps his hands forcibly pinned to his sides, trying so hard not to hover, not to be too much. It makes Roy crack open even further. He really fucked this up.

“Can we wait for Keeley to get back first?” he suggests carefully, eyes meeting Jamie’s as his fingers brush circles on the back of his hand. “Ought to apologize to her, too.” 

“Definitely. Also, she’ll definitely enjoy this. Vulnerability really does it for her.” Jamie waggles his eyebrows playfully, seemingly resigned to brushing over the moment of tension, but Roy doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger for a second too long over Roy’s features, as if trying to catch the slightest grimace that could help him suss out Roy's pain level. Jamie needs him to be honest here; Roy forces himself to let him in. 

“I think I need my meds, first,” he admits. “Knee really fucking hurts. Got worse just now. And maybe, um…you could, with the pillow?” 

Jamie, perfect as he is, needs no further instruction. His hands fly towards the cushion, readjusting it carefully into a more supportive position. “Anything else, babe?” he asks as he fluffs, focus entirely on the pillow. 

“Jay.” 

His boyfriend’s head snaps up again, and Roy gestures him to slow down, and sit back. As soon as Jamie’s back’s against the sofa cushion again, Roy tosses his arm around him and tugs him in as close as possible. “I just want you,” he whispers. Then he lets himself shut his eyes and sink into the calm, knowing Jamie's got him. 

[imaginethezeldaverse]

I saw someone mention the idea of sages taking control of their avatars while they're asleep, and that got me thinking about Yunobo.

If you don't mind, may I request a short story about Yunobo taking control of his avatar while dreaming, and making moves on his Hylian friend who he lent his avatar ring to keep them safe on their travels?

Sorry if it's an oddly specific request, I just love the idea of this hylian friend talking to Yuno's avatar to build confidence for when they see their goron crush again, just for his avatar to start showing them affection in what Yuno perceives as an amazing dream

I'm going to lean this on the more sfw side because I have a cute idea (and also because I don't think Yunobo has it in him to engage in anything more than cuddling while the eye of his affections is asleep, he's a gentleman and prefers you to be present ❤️) Warning for Tears of the Kingdom spoilers mentioned And this actually gave me a fantastic idea to do a sort of follow up with this ficlet I wrote a while ago. Please enjoy!

When you'd told Yunobo of the trip you needed to make to the Lanayru Wetlands to procure a few rarer herbs, it admittedly made him nervous - but only temporarily. With his new powers awakened, he remembered that came with the perk of having his visage move freely with whomever had the associated ring to wield it. Next thing you knew, a spectral duplicate of your dearest friend walked at your side as you traveled down Death Mountain to your destination. You were grateful for its presence, it was a piece of Yunobo's spirit, and it felt familiar in that sense...but deep down you knew it was not the same thing as physically having him with you.

Still, it made you feel safe, and you appreciated that much.

"Wow it's really coming down out there," you whispered aloud, watching the sky having opened up as you stood at the entrance to the Wetland Stable. You'd an inkling that it was about to rain, and although you weren't far from where you needed to pull your herbs from, you knew better than to get caught in the torrential downpours that occurred in the wetlands. Yunobo's avatar stood behind you, silently looking onward, a mimic of your own actions. A few hours passed as you meticulously mapped out the locations of the plants you planned on retrieving. Soon enough, even through the cover of the still heavy rain, came nightfall. While you were the only attendant at the Wetland Stable, you still did your best to be polite and quietly set up for some rest.

As you looked over to the incorporeal avatar of Yunobo, you smiled plaintively. No conversation ever truly came from that afternoon where Bludo had so loudly let out a supposedly hidden secret Yunobo had about you. You never sought to push the issue, either. In your mind, when he was ready, it would happen. A soft laugh escaped you, wistful as you sensed the specter was looking more through you than at you, even though it met your gaze. Yet that didn't stop your words,

"I suppose I should be grateful that you're here with me, not-Yunobo...but truthfully I wish the real Yunobo was here." The avatar said nothing, hollowed eyes trained toward you and nothing more. It caused you to break your gaze with it momentarily, "If only he really knew...how much he truly meant to me...maybe holding back an 'I love you' wouldn't be this hard, hm?" You looked up to see his avatar hadn't stirred from its position. Face unchanged, stance unmoved. Another laugh, albeit a little more bitter this time. If you only you were that brave yourself. With a lengthy sigh, you laid yourself down to rest, the sound of heavy rain lulling you quickly to sleep.

----

Tightness in his chest, that's what Yunobo felt as he stirred in his sleep. The vision before him was a tad hazy, though he was able to make out your figure not too far off before him. You sat at the edge of a bed, your expression one of what looked like...sorrow? Why were you sad? Suddenly, he heard you laugh. Your voice was audible, even if it did sound like he was hearing it through a pot.

"If only he really knew...how much he truly meant to me...maybe holding back an 'I love you' wouldn't be this hard, hm?"

In the real world, the Goron sage clenched and unclenched his fist. His heart slammed in his chest at your confession. It was then he realized he was seeing and hearing all of this through his avatar, the very thing you had brought with you to keep you safe on your journey. Sensing there must be some sort of spiritual connection there, Yunobo initially rejoiced (this made it easier to communicate with you if he needed to), but then lamented once he absorbed your words. His face scrunched as he slumbered, internally remembering how he'd run away from you like a coward when his mentor had basically confessed for him.

Only now to find out...you had always felt the same.

What a fool he was.

Yunobo, taking a deep breath in his "dream", focused his attention. His thoughts centered on moving toward you, wanting to be closer to your bedside. Without a second thought needed, his avatar crept up slowly, being careful to stop just at the head of your bed. He mentally coached his next movements, and in real-time, his visage lifted its hand to your face. Its index finger found the apple of your cheek, a barely there stroke supplied to the softness of your face in a tender gesture. Longing plagued his heart as he watched through the eyes of his avatar the very person he loved most at rest. Your sleeping form was so peaceful - and yet here he was, causing a storm in that sweet heart of yours. Though his lips did not move in real life or on his specter, his voice sounded softly from the ghostly image of him,

"One day, real soon, I'll tell you, goro...and I hope you'll still love me then."

For now, he took solace in the way you hummed blissfully in your sleep - unaware of his gentle touch - but smiling all the same at how it seemed to bring you comfort.