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#(i told them i could not possibly eat that much chocolate and they told me i could give it to others and to just take it)
yardsards · 7 months
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note that i'm only halfway joking about the old people candy bit. this is some of what i had put out for the kids irl tonight
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(hardly any kids come down this way and buying candy for the occasion is mostly a wasted effort so i've just started emptying my candy dish into the bucket lol)
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jkslipppiercing · 8 months
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Needy | jjk oneshot
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♡ summary: your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?
♡ pairing: boyfriend!jungkook, dom!jk.
♡ genre: smut, smut, aaaand- you guessed it- smut!
♡ warnings: pure filth, pwp, oral (f receiving), he eats her out, he fucks her from behind, overstimulation, squirting, choking, praise, begging, uh what else- spanking, dirty talk, cursing, creampie, raw sex, penetration, he's basically obsessed with her ass.
♡ WC: 3.2K.
♡ a/n: this is my first time experimenting with smut, so bear with me. please please please never hesitate to share your thoughts about my works with me, constructive criticism is very appreciated, since it helps me write better, and especially if what im writing is for you to read- it would help me to know what you think!
index
taglist
-unedited.
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you place your hands on your hips and settle your gaze on the scene before you.
at least fifty fluffy pillows are thrown all over fuzzy bean bags that occupy the whole space in the livingroom- save for the couch that sits in the middle, faced with the TV.
you're already in your silk PJs, a silk set of shorts- that are above thigh- and a shirt. drinks, beers, and shot glasses are neatly positioned on the table, along with millions of other snacks scattered all over the place.
Jungkook usually prepares the food and snacks like popcorn, chips, and natchos while you take care of the setup with the pillows, beanbags, and blankets.
it's fifty fifty.
every saturday night, jiho and yejun- your girlfriends- get dropped off at yours for a disastrous girl's night where drinks are exchanged and secrets are spilled.
in the meantime, jungkook heads out of the apartment and to his mates'- yoongi and taehyung, respectively jiho and yejun's boyfriends- for what he calls a "mature hangout" which is anything but.
you know for a fact they play video games and gossip about all three of their girlfriends.
speaking of your boyfriend, he waltzes into the living room, two bowls of popcorn stacked on top of each other in one hand and a plate of nachos in the other.
he sets them down on the table and turns to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to him rather abruptly.
you squeal, laughing when he wiggles his brows at you playfully before nuzzling his nose with yours.
you wrap your hands around his neck, putting your forehead to his.
soft locks of his hair meet your fingertips in a familiar caress, used to your touch.
your nails gently stroke Jungkook's scalp as he hums in satisfaction, his eyes shutting closed as he relishes your proximity.
"thank you."
"I already told you before, you dont need to thank me, sweetheart."
"i do, though."
"but i dont even do much."
"you do more than enough."
"it's the bare minimum. i wish i could offer more."
"shut up and accept my thanks, dumbass."
he chuckles and you pull away.
seconds later, you find yourself away from Jungkook's arms and frowning at the table, leaning down to fix the placement of the bowls Jungkook had just brought in.
"Kook! You got them wrong again! i always tell you, popcorn, natchos, popco-"
you feel a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a hushed curse.
"fuck."
you straighten, your jaw almost hitting the floor.
you were leaning down wearing short shorts, not paying attention of the possibility of flashing Jungkook. Your ass must've been on full display- scratch that- it was.
turning around, you take in the intensity of his gaze.
the earlier playfulness is long gone, replaced with cloudy chocolate eyes, hooded with something you were always able to identify- lust.
"did you just-"
he pulls you by the waist, catching you by surprise, yet again.
he looks at you in a way that quite literally has you melting, but you cant deny, youve never been wetter.
you can feel your arousal through your panties, only resulting from the mini spank delivered mere seconds ago.
"you're sexy in silk." his husky voice travels over your senses and sends them into overdrive.
just when you thought the situation couldnt get any hotter, his palms trace from your waist down to your ass.
he palms the soft tissue before squeezing it, hard.
your eyes shut immediately as you bite your lip.
his hand retracts only to land on your ass shortly after, sending a jolt of pain through your being and setting you alight with pleasure.
you gasp, incapable of making any other sound.
"bend over."
"w-what- right now?!"
"dont let me repeat myself, Y/N."
"but the girls will be here in fifteen minutes!"
"fifteen minutes is more than enough for me to make you cum more than twice."
more than twice?
dont mind if i do.
the pool of heat in your lower belly grows hotter under his gaze.
this man must be insane.
"go on." he steps away, willing you to get into the position.
you comply, bending over the armrest of the couch and stabilizing yourself on your palms.
"are you sure this is a good idea-" another spark of pain, from your ass cheek aiming to your pussy.
fuck.
you're silenced by the spank, and so, you dont say anything else. you just let the man behind you do his thing. not that you mind...
you can feel his presence behind you, and you're almost begging him to touch you until he hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts and tugs them down.
"i love your ass so fucking much." ...and another spank.
his words leave you breathless. you always knew how talented jungkook was with using his mouth, and he proves you right when he moves the string of the thong you're wearing to the side. he latches his mouth onto your pussy, eliciting a loud exhale from you.
you were never the type to scream your lungs out at the lightest touch, but you're also not hard to please, either.
at first, he works with a few nibbles and sucks on your opening, groaning into your entrance approvingly. he only gets a few gasps from you in return.
his hands are planted on your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he dives in even deeper.
he surprises you when he pulls away, making you whine in protest but before you can straighten-
"don't move." he says from between your legs. "spread your legs wider for me, baby."
holy shit, this man is going to be the absolute death of you.
you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing at the dirty words, and you grow more achingly weak by the second.
when you do spread your legs, his tongue licks at you, but from a different angle. he switched his position so his butt is sitting on the ground beneath you, his back pressed to the couch. he grabs your hips and pulls you down to him, licking up your arousal from clit to opening then back again.
"so wet. for me?"
you hum in agreement.
it's true.
all for him.
he's no longer testing the waters, taking your clit in his mouth.
he sucks on it, causing you to moan.
you shamelessly moan at the action, but then he adds a finger.
and after he adds another finger, he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body and fogging up your brain.
your mind is clouded, only focusing on the man between your legs, eating your pussy out like a hungered man.
he moves his fingers, slowly at first. you relish the delicious stretch his long fingers offer, moaning in appreciation.
it starts slow, but then his pace grows faster, snatching your breath away with it.
he's still nibbling on your clit, making your head swim.
your moans grow louder when he hits a spot with his fingers, and your mouth hangs open at the sensation.
"think you can handle another finger?" he rasps beneath you.
"please." a husky, breathless plea is all you can muster in this situation.
"please what?" he demands.
he adds another finger, making you take all three at once. he rubs your clit with his thumb, and all your thoughts are thrown out the window. you simply cant think.
his hand makes harsh contact with your ass cheek in a rough slap, doing an amazing job is heightening your pleasure.
"answer the question, y/n." his tone is dark, commanding you to reply, but you simply cant.
"oh, god!" you let out a high pitched moan when he curls all three of his fingers, knowing how to push all your buttons.
he knows. he's mapped out every inch by inch of your body, so you wouldnt be surprised if he reached certain spots even you wouldnt be able to reach.
you know that because you've tested that theory for yourself.
and you were right.
the man is a god at giving mind-blowing orgasms.
"beg for it." is all he says before he goes knuckles deep into you, basically abusing your hole. but it feels too good for you to argue, not that you want to.
he latches back on to your clit, and his fingers remain unrelenting at a fast speed.
"please, please, please!" you chant in a desperate moan for a release.
"Kook!" and right then and there, your orgasm hits you like a train and you tense. the euphoria is injected into your veins, mind-numbing you.
"that's it, baby." Jungkook coaxes you through it, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. he laps up your arousal, not wasting a single drop.
"you taste divine."
you just came, but now you want more.
Jungkook stands, leaning down to get ahold of you. you were hit with such a strong orgasm that you slumped forward in the midst of it, face planting on the couch like jello.
he hugs you from behind and you arch into him, feeling his erection.
he holds your body with one hand, grabbing your jaw and turning your face to him with the other.
you plant your lips onto his own soft ones, humming in contentment.
"thank you."
"we're no where near done for you to thank me, sweetheart."
you wouldnt come out alive.
"one more wouldnt hurt, right?" you say as if you're trying to convince yourself, aiming the words at you more than him.
he laughs, a deep rumble erupting from his chest. "we'll see."
what in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!
the hand once holding your jaw now slithered down to your neck, claiming you as his. he pushes your hair to the side, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to place a few kisses there.
he takes your shirt off, your bra going right after as you're left naked for him to play with you.
he chokes you lightly, inhaling your scent as the other hand travels down to cup your pussy.
you're left breathless, even more so when he pinches your clit.
"who does this belong to?" he rasps into your ear, the sound so sexy it sends jolts of arousal through your spine, pooling down to wet slick between your legs.
"you." you mumble under your breath.
he slaps your pussy and you moan, arching your back and grinding back onto him.
"louder."
"you!" you desperately grind on his hand, only for a bit of friction.
"that's right." he snuggles into your shoulder, hand still on your neck as the other teases your entrance. "good girl."
your hands are clutching onto the arm rest for dear life, growing weak. your schest in heaving, and you might explode from all the hormones you're feeling right now.
Jungkook lets go of you, and you hear sounds of clothes shuffling which makes you look over your shoulder to meet his eyes just as he's unbuckling his belt, shirt off, chains on.
you're salivating.
"like what you see?"
he knows he's hot. smug bastard.
you only spread your legs wider as a response, putting your wet entrance on full display only for him to see.
you see him curse under his breath before he crosses the distance between you in a few strides, grabbing you by the neck to kiss you.
his tongue delves into your mouth, roaming, exploring, and dominating all it wants.
again, not that you mind.
seeing no reason in dragging this out any longer, the head of jungkook's cock nudges against your entrance, having you weak at the knees.
you moan into his mouth and he smiles into the kiss, always loving how responsive you are to his actions.
he pins one of his hands down on your hips, keeping you in place as he holds his cock with the other.
he guides it to your pussy, gliding it up and down your slick, causing your knees to waves everytime he nudges it with your clit.
"you ready for me?"
"please." is not even a coherent answer to his question, and he knows that because he chuckles at your neediness.
it started out with him convincing you to fuck him because of his neediness, and here you are now, begging for his cock.
he enters you with just the tip, testing the waters at first.
this isnt the first time you've had sex with jungkook. it's just that he needs to give you time every time because you just never got used to his size.
hes just so fucking big.
he enters you with another inch, then one after another until he bottoms out.
he groans at your warmth and your mouth hangs open at both the sound and the stretch.
"so fucking tight. all for me."
"all for you." you dont recognize your voice. all out of breath and high pitched, but jungkook loves it. he loves to hear you moan and writhe beneath him.
he stays there for a couple of seconds, letting you accommodate to his length.
he leans forward to take your tits in his hand, rolling the pebbled peaks between his thumb and index which makes your breath hitch. he toys with your breasts, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to move.
"mmm, fuck." is all he says before he moves his hips, gently. he knows when to be rough when it comes to sex, which causes him to speed up when all you do is breathe loudly.
it's like he has it as his mission to make you moan for him. for his ego.
and you do, because one minute, jungkook is being all lovey-dovey and slow with you, and the other, his hips are snapping into your at an incredibly high speed.
he leans back and grabs you by the hips, only to ball your hair into his fist and tug on it harshly. your hands are back on the armrest, desperately holding on.
he's fucking you relentlessly, groaning deeply at your tightness when you clench harder around him.
his groans are answered with high moans and pleas, and Jungkook speaks, his voice so full of restraint.
"look in front of you, y/n." and that's when you realize that you can see your reflection in the window.
you can see how Jungkook is manhandling you and take you from behind, and that does nothing but push you even closer to your climax.
"Jungkook!"
"can you see it?" he rasps out breathlessly. "can you see how well you take my cock, baby?"
"fuck!" there goes the second orgasm.
"cum for me." it barrels down on you and weighs you down even more than the first, tiring you out.
Jungkook's hand leaves your hair and grabs you by the neck, pulling you even more back to him and arching your back.
that position is the only thing keeping you from slumping forward and face planting onto the couch.
Jungkook thrusts just once, causing you to whimper out of overstimulation.
"i cant. i'm sorry, Jungkook. maybe you can fuck my mouth instead-"
"you did well."
"huh?"
"but you can do better."
hell no you cant-
he rubs your clit, still buried ball's deep inside of you.
the clit stimulation makes you relax a little bit, and maybe you can try.
"okay." you muster out a small confirmation which he gladly takes, except this time, he's anything but gentle.
Jungkook goes faster than he did before, ramming into you from behind but still rubbing your clit.
he squeezes your throat and leaves you little to no space to breathe, then loosens his hold after a couple of seconds.
he fucks you so hard you see stars, sounds of skin slapping against each other filling the room. his balls slap against your pussy, and it just feels divine.
your ass must be red by now, and you just cant breathe.
and then, you're hit with a sensation like never before. you cant see, cant breathe, cant hear, cant speak. a throaty scream snatches out of your throat and this orgasm is like none of the ones you've experienced before.
"you can take it." fuck fuck fuck fuck.
"fuck, kook!"
"yeah, baby? you like the way i fuck you so hard you forget your name?"
"thank you, thank you, thank you-" you're screaming, helpless. he's rubbing your clit, fucking you animalistically, tugging on your hair, and you can see it all in the reflection. you can feel his love for you.
the overstimulation doesnt make you uncomfortable, it makes you breathless.
he slaps your ass and smiles at the handprint.
shortly after, Jungkook curses under his breath and cums, "take it all." he thrusts into you through his orgasm, and when he's done, he pulls out and admires the masterpiece he created.
his cum mixed with yours oozes out of your pussy, and he plays with it, getting the mess all over his fingers.
you turn around just in time to see him suck his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as he moans in satisfaction.
instead of feeling embarrassed, you step closer to him and kiss him. you both smile into it as you can taste yourself and him on his tongue, which feels amazing.
it feels euphoric.
you pull away, slightly cringing at the slick wetness you feel all over your thighs, which makes you confused.
"did i pee or something?" you say, perplexed, as you look at jungkook, which snorts in response.
"no, baby, you squirted." he gestures to his own lower abdomen, signaling the mess you made all over him. "you did it all over me, too. it was hot as hell."
you've never squirted before.
thats enough proof that he really did go all out this time.
wow.
when you look to the ground, seemingly embarrassed about it, he hooks his finger under your chin and makes you look up to meet his eyes.
"nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart." his eyes alone speak volumes. the man loves you more than himself.
"just proof that i fucked you well." he wiggles his brows, making you laugh.
you hug him in response, but then you remember...
"oh my god! the girls! i totally forgot!" you go to take a step forward, but wobble and almost fall instead.
jungkook immediately grabs you by the waist, stablizing you and pulling you to him.
"easy there, you're gonna hurt yourself." he says smugly, knowing he's the reason that's got you so sore.
"i should probably call them and make sure-"
"i already texted yejun saying you had a fever and cant get up from bed." he says a little too quickly.
he did what?
"you did what?!" youre so puzzled right now. "but why?"
"do you think i'm gonna leave you here after literally ruining you just to hangout with my mates?" he raises his brows, a frown tugging them together when he pins you down with a hard stare.
"plus, you need to shower, and you cant do that alone-" he smiles, his bunny teeth showing. "you need me to help." he wiggles his brows yet again, and you catch onto the implication a little too quickly.
there's no way you're surviving a second round in the shower...
right?!
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what do yall think for a first time?
@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma
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onceuponapuffin · 1 month
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Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!
Beginning|| Previous || Next
It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.
As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.
“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”
“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”
Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.
“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”
“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”
Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.
At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.
And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’
So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.
You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.
THAT BEING SAID
You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.
The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.
It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.
“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”
“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.
“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”
“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”
“Trying is the key word there.”
“That’s true enough I suppose.”
The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.
“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”
“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.
“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”
“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.
“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, Crowley?”
“You’re my angel. No one else.”
“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”
The shop bell dings.
“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”
When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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skzsauce01 · 6 months
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What Was I Made For
Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.
Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death
Word Count: 6.2k
Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin
A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!
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“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”
“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”
You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.
On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars. 
You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”
“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”
“That was one time! Try again.”
He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”
For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor. 
He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”
“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”
“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”
Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.
“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.
“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.” 
Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”
Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”
“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”
While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.
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When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.
“You seriously paid for these?” he says. 
“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”
“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?” 
You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”
He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.
Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”
And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”
Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.
To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”
“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”
“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”
He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art. 
“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”
“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”
He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”
“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”
Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.
He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.
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You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.
Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it. 
You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.
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Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.
Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.
In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.
Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.
When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card. 
“To make your studies less stressful,” he says. 
You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.
“I love them.”
“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”
You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”
“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”
For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy. 
“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”
While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.
“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.
He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”
And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.
It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.
“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.
You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”
“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”
It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”
“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”
“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”
“I call Birdo.”
Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.
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At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis. 
It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.
“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.
You choke out, “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“... No.”
You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.
“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”
You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?
Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.
Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”
Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”
“Really? Are you serious?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”
“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”
A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.
“You’d hate it.”
“Story of my life.”
The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it? 
“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”
It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.
“I need to study,” you say.
He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”
“Thank you.”
He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on. 
When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.
The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.
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A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”
He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”
“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”
He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”
You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”
“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”
“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”
With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”
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Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so. 
“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.
“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”
“You need friends.”
“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”
He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”
While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.
You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.
“Why’d you ask me about a party?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”
“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”
“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”
Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.” 
“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”
“Do you know any other ghosts?”
“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”
“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”
How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”
“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”
And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.
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You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.
The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.
Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.
“Hey.”
No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.
“How are you holding up?” you ask.
“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”
You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.
As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right. 
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To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—
You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate. 
I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.
You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it 
I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.
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“Do you want to talk?”
Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.
“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”
“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”
You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work. 
“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”
“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”
You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.
Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”
“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”
“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”
“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”
“Are you?”
You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are. 
Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.
“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”
“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”
You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.
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“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”
And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.
Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace. 
Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying. 
“Are you okay?” asks Seungmin.
“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s…”
It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.
Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”
He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”
“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”
Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.
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EPILOGUE
“Honey, I’m home,” you call. 
You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to. 
“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”
You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.
“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”
It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.
In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.
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I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.
Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.
Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.
I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.
To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—
I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.
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judysxnd · 5 months
Note
can we plz plz get more reader and pedro dating?? 😭 i love it so much!
I don't really know if you mean dating in general or going on a date? So I guess I am going to do a going on a date one, since it's a part of dating in general (don't know if it makes sense, but in my head it does).
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Ever since you started to date Pedro, you've never been on dates so much. In the first two months of dating the number already exceeded the number of fingers. It's a good thing, don't get me wrong. It made you feel so special, loved like you've never been. You always thought it was Pedro's love language, taking you on dates. He always loved spoiling you in every way possible.
Tonight was no exception. But he decided to change things around. Instead of going out, he decided to bring the outside, inside. And by that, he needed the house to himself, so he gently.. yes.. kicked you out for the afternoon. He told you to come back for 7:30pm. You didn't really know what you would do in the meantime, so you wandered in town, buying some nice chocolates to eat in front of a nice movie, and you decided to buy a bottle of wine. Pedro probably took care of that too, but whatever, it won't go to waste either way.
You arrived home for 7:30pm. As you parked, you saw Pedro walk outside the house. He didn't leave you time to get out of the car, opening the door for you. He was wearing a nice black suit.
"Hey baby" you had a big smile. "Looking handsome" you said adjusting his jacket. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before handing you what looked like a blindfold. "You're going to blindfold me in my own house?" you both chuckled
"I need you to get to the bathroom without seeing what I prepared"
"Should have given me the outfit before I left"
"I- well no comment" you laughed. He put the blindfold on you. You grabbed his arm and let him guide you inside the house. Once you entered, you were met with different smells. You could smell the dinner getting ready in the kitchen, you could smell the burning of candles, some sweet vanilla, your favourite scent. "we're taking the stairs" Pedro warned you. You lifted your foot, but still almost fell.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea Pedro" you joked
"I'll take care of that" was all you heard before Pedro took you in his arms, climbing the stairs, walking into your bedroom, finishing in the bathroom. He put you down slowly and nicely. "I've prepared a nice outfit for you, I'll let you get dressed, and once you're done, put the blindfold back and call me okay?" He said.
"Yes sir" you joked. You heard Pedro laugh a little. He kissed your cheek before leaving you alone in the bathroom. Once you heard the door closing, you removed the blindfold. You looked around still a little confused, finding the mirror and looking at yourself. You smiled as you shook your head, still not realising what was happening. He always managed to surprise you. After 2 years in the relationships, after hundreds of dates, he was still here surprising you.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, something sparkly caught your attention. You looked at it through the glass, seeing something dark green, sparkling. You turned around walked to the drawers. You grabbed the clothes, naturally unfolding as you took a step back. It was a very nice sparkly dark green dress. Once again you were impressed. He even bought you a dress. You quickly put it on, looking at the mirror.
Damn. He really knew you, your taste, your body, your size. The dress fitted perfectly, and it was absolutely magnificent on you. There were a pair of heels next to the dress, so you wore them. Those were from your wardrobe, you recognised them. You still laughed at the view, he did say, quite a lot, that they were his favourite pair of heels. You rapidly brushed you hair too, letting them fall on your bare shoulders. You didn't have anything left to do, so you put the blindfold back, and called Pedro.
"Woah" You heard him say as soon as the door opened.
"Right choice" you said, making a pose. You smiled.
"Agreed" you felt his hands on your arms. "Now let's have dinner darling"
"Yes, because I'm starving"
"I'm going to carry you again" Pedro hold you once again, carrying you down the stairs. Barely there, he put you down, removing the blindfold. Once away, you finally opened your eyes. The entire house was lit up by candles. There were rose petals on the floor and now there was music in the background.
"Woah, Pedro!" You looked around, amazed. "You didn't have to do all of this, you must have been working non stop to do this"
"It's all worth it for my princesa" he said looking at you. You looked at him with complete heart eyes.
"I love you so much" You put your hands on both side of his face.
"I love you more" You kissed passionately. After a few, you both pulled away. "Shall we?" he asked you, asking for you hand to guide you to the kitchen. You held his hand, nodding and smiling.
You entered the kitchen to find the dinner table lit up with candles two, with nice flowers and decorations. Pedro really put his soul into it and it showed. It was beautiful.
"You're more talented than me for decorating the table, so unfair" you joked as he pulled the chair for you.
"I had help" he admitted
"You did?" you were surprised
"You think I suddenly know how to decorate a table and cook?" he laughed as he opened a bottle of wine.
"I don't know, maybe!" you laughed too. "By the way I bought chocolate and wine too, but I left it in the car"
"We'll grab it later"
Pedro served you the nicest and tastiest dinner. Even if he had help or hired someone to cook or even ordered something, it didn't matter. He made everything for you, for the both of you to have a nice dinner date at home. You don't always need to leave the house to have a perfect date, and tonight was the proof. You had fun, talking about random things, reminiscing about some other dates, thinking about the next ones.
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inuiiwonderland · 7 months
Text
The vision
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You were born with a gift. The gift to be able to see the future. You would always have small or big glimpses of the future every now and then. And the visions are usually never something bad, until now…
Malleus draconia x fem!reader
Reader is also a Fae and malleus childhood friend:)
Angst
-
You never found your gift to be horrible. You always thought that it was pretty cool and amazing, being able to see little glimpses of the future. You found it to be very fascinating rather than scary.
And for the most part, your visions were never bad. You never saw anything that made you scared or uneasy, well besides the few times when you had a few visions that made you confused and or a little scared BUT it was all good in the end!
But today. You never expected to get a vision like you did today.
-
You were in your room, humming and packing some clothes for your small trip to Malleus palace. You're really excited to see malleus and the others again after so long. Ever since they received your text about you visiting them they have been counting down the days of your arrival.
You giggle at the memory of silver sending you a picture of Lilia marking down each day until your arrival at the palace.
“Y/n dear! Are you ready?” Your mom asks. You quickly packed the last of your clothing before closing your suitcase.
“Yes mom, I'm ready!” Your door opens to reveal your mother and a guard standing behind her.
“Ah! My beautiful daughter! I can’t believe you’ll be gone for a whole week!” She says as she pulls you into a tight hug.
“It’s only a week! Then I’ll be back until my next visit” You say with a smile. You and your mother talked for a bit until your father came into the room and told you that everything is ready for your trip to the palace.
“Bye my pretty girl! And be careful!”
“Be safe! And you already know what to do if anything bad happens!” You waved at both of your parents before getting in the carriage.
-
It wasn’t long until you finally arrived. You looked out and saw malleus and the others waiting excitedly for you.
“Ah it’s a pleasure seeing you again lady y/n!” Lilia says as he helps you step out of the carriage.
“It’s great to see you all again! I missed you all”
“Allow me to help with your luggage!” Sebek then immediately grabbed all three of your luggage as you began to panic.
“Oh no no no! I can’t possibly have you carry all that! I can help-“
“No, I'll do it! So please allow me”
“But-“
“Sebek is a strong boy. He’ll be fine” Silver reassures you. You just nod but not before asking Sebek if he needed help once again. But he only replies with a “I’m fine!” Before you let him carry all your luggage inside the palace.
-
“Thank you so much sebek. You really didn’t have to carry all my luggage up here”
“It’s no problem! I am a knight and it’s my duty to serve my master and any other royals!” You smiled before giving sebek a small kiss on the check.
“I appreciate your help, thank you” The boy was left speechless. A shade of dark red adoring his cheeks.
“I-it’s no problem! I-I’ll go now!” And he left. You giggle at his shyness. You decided to unpack before doing anything else. It didn’t take long before you had everything unpacked and the moment you sat down on your bed you heard a knock at the door.
“Come in” The door then opens to reveal malleus. You smile once you see your childhood friend.
“Mal!” Malleus smiles at you before pulling you into a hug.
“It’s nice to see you again child of man”
“How have you been mal? Have you been doing good? Eating good?” Malleus could feel his cheeks heat up as you continue to ask him more questions.
“I’m doing quite well. But I’ll also ask you the same thing, have you been taking care of yourself too?”
“Of course I have! I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t” You joked. Malleus just smiles before handing you some chocolate.
“I bought your favorite” You could feel your heart beat increase as he handed you the chocolate.
“Oh sevens! You shouldn’t have! Now I feel bad that I didn’t get you anything!” He chuckles at your worried expression.
“Don’t panic. But I would love it if you would accompany me on a walk around the palace garden” He asks and who were you to say no to someone like malleus?
“I’d love to”
-
The two of you walked around the garden as you talked about old memories from when the two of you were young and other funny embarrassing ones.
“Haha! I remember that! I still can’t forget the look on Lilias face” As you laughed, you didn’t notice the literal heart eyes in malleus eyes as he watched you laugh.
“Ohh my stomach now hurts from all that laughing!” He smiles before stopping and crouching down next to a rose bush.
“Oh? What are you doing mal?” You ask curiously. Malleus doesn’t respond and you can see him carefully getting a beautiful red rose from the bush before standing back to his full height. He turns around and you see a beautiful rose in his hand.
“For you” You were taken aback before heat rushes up your neck.
“For me?”
“Mhm” You carefully grabbed the rose from his hands before smiling.
“Ah I didn’t know you missed me that much!” You teased as he started to turn red. But you wouldn’t lie that you weren’t screaming inside by malleus sweet (or romantic) gesture.
Could this mean malleus also likes you back?
But soon the excitement went away when you felt a throbbing pain in your head.
A vision
It’s you. You wore a beautiful traditional briar valley wedding dress along with malleus who was also wearing a traditional briar valley suit.
It’s a wedding-YOUR wedding. You can see the excited smile on both you and malleus faces as family and friends congratulated you both.
“Congratulations to the two of you!”
“You look stunning as always lady- or should I say Mrs draconia” Lilia teases as you feel your face heat up.
“Congratulations waka-sama!” Sebek cries as silver just sighs before congratulating you with a smile.
You saw how malleus looked at you with heart eyes as he pulled you closer to him and gave you a kiss.
Then your vision changes and you can see yourself carrying what seems to be a baby. You were sitting in you and malleus shared bedroom and you cooed at the small bundle of joy as malleus sat next to you. A huge smile on his face.
“He looks just like you” You tell him.
“He has your eyes” Malleus tells you. You were both in awe as the little one opened his eyes before crying.
“He’s hungry”
It was so cute. So wholesome. So it definitely didn’t prepare you for what you were about to see next.
What you saw next was absolutely horrific. You could see yourself laying in your husband’s arms all bloody.
You looked…dead
You were dead
You were dead in your husband's arms as his cries of agony rang through the palace walls.
“No please! My wife! Not my wife!”
“Please wake up y/n! Please don’t leave me” He cries as he holds your body close. And then you suddenly hear your baby’s cries. You quickly turned around to see a horrified sebek gently holding your baby as his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. You could see that he was trembling a bit. But he was trying so hard to keep calm and calm down your crying baby.
You then turned around to see briar valley knights fighting. They were fighting what seemed to be other knights from a different kingdom. You could see silver and Lilia. They had some wounds but you could see how they hadn’t given up on fighting. Making sure those unknown knights didn’t get close to you, malleus or your baby.
You could hear bodies drop to the floor and blood splattering. Screams and shouts and also the sound of swords hitting against each other.
It was a mess. A horrifying mess. So bloody and gory you could almost throw up.
The vision soon stops and you gasp once it does, dropping the rose in the process. Malleus looks at you worriedly. You were shaking! You looked scared and that really worried him.
“Y/n are you-“
“I-I have to go” But before he could even finish his sentence you ran away. Malleus watches with wide eyes as you run away from him.
-
You locked yourself in your room after that. Not wanting to see anyone, especially malleus. You curled up on your bed as you tried your hardest to forget what you saw in your vision.
You were happy that in your vision you and malleus got together and married each other and had a baby but then seeing you dead in his arms as his and your baby’s cries filled the palace walls and also the bloody scene that you saw. It was to much!
You can’t let that happen. You can’t! The pain in malleus voice….it broke your heart hearing him like that.
If that’s what happens to you and malleus in the future. Then it’s best that you separate ways from each other.
You can’t let anything bad happen to malleus. You just can’t. Even if you love malleus with all your heart you don’t want to see him in pain.
“I guess it’s best to stay away….”
-
Lord it’s literally 3 am rn😭 anyways I hope you guys liked it🤍
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tokyo-terror · 1 year
Note
YOO IM IN LOVE WITH UR HCS THEY TASTE LIKE CHOCOLATE COVERED STRAWBERRIES AND FRUIT TEA :3
Request here 🙏🙏🙏
Could you possibly.. *leans on Bugatti with graves wrap on it + an inflatable eagle and American flag flying from the bonnet* write some hcs for 141 + König with a gn s/o that has had a really bad day and just needs some comfort? So eg, just being pampered and having their hair washed, being told they’ve done well, that people are proud of them and love them, etc?
Ive been having a really shitty past few months with my depression and anxiety and it’s really overwhelmed me so I’m kinda projecting.. 🧍🏼🧍🏼
If you can’t do it, that’s ok!!! No pressure <33
But if you can, may your skin be clear and may your crops flourish 🙏🙏🙏 (with america rizz) (im british)
i hate brits but ill make an exception for u 🫶 /lh i hope ur day gets a littol bit better for u pookie :< ik how hard it gets fr <3 we r in this together :)
cw: depression (not delved into !!)
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simon "ghost" riley:
☆ this guy getss it !!! he doesn't open up much about his feelings directly but let's all be fr and agree he's not the most mentally stable
☆ your self care day is hiss self care day, thrives on cuddling and using you as weighted blanket while he rubs your back
☆ has himself a tea while you both cuddle, and trust me it's good tea. the night might turn into a cuddle and see how many teas simon can make before you run out
☆ before you fall asleep fully he kisses the crown of your head and says that he's proud of how far you've come
john "soap" mactavish:
☆ tries to be more lowkey w how he comforts you because he doesn't want to come off as overbearing
☆ has mastered the perfect balance of praise and touch, he holds your hand while you tell him about your day and he makes comments trying to sympathize w you
☆ lets you scritch his mohawk while he tells you how much he loves you and how glad he is that you're around and here with him
☆ lays his head on your chest when you both go to sleep so he can listen to your heartbeat and tap your arms to the beat of it, has both of you asleep within 5 minutes
john price:
☆ kinda awkward with comforting but he tries his best, he's always a little bit confused about how somebody like you could be so upset about anything
☆ he knows that it's not his place to fully understand though, so he sticks to doing what he does best: being an old ass man
☆ showers with you and washes your hair while you vent (or not) about how you've been feeling, he stays mostly silently except for humming to let you know he's listening
☆ towel dries your hair and changes the bedsheets to clean ones so you can be fully clean because he's a firm believer in being a little more tidy can greatly improve somebody's feelings
kyle "gaz" garrick:
☆ king of pampering in general, he's waiting on you hand and foot constantly. honestly he probably knows it's going to be a bad day before you even start your day
☆ he's always making you food to eat throughout the day, little snacks that aren't too big but are just enough to keep you energized and full
☆ ditches his military soaps for your nice ones when you take a shower, secretly (not rlly) loves when you laugh at him building bubble beards on himself and doing price impressions
☆ making you laugh is his goal in life tbh he's constantly cracking jokes while you both cuddle, some of them are so bad it's funny
könig:
☆ another guy that genuinely understands everything you're talking abt, his anxiety also makes him have awfulll days and due to being the military around lots of people he's learned coping mechanisms
☆ takes hot showers with you a lot in general, but even more when you're having one of those days. he's already washing your hair and face as soon as you get in
☆ lets you braid his hair while he talks idly about how missions are and how he adores you, though he says that in german. you've picked up on him saying cheesy stuff in german though so it's fine :)
☆ lets you sprawl out on him like a starfish when you both finally go to sleep, around 2am because of how many shows he wanted to watch with you
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euniexenoblade · 8 days
Note
I may have asked you this before, and I'm really sorry, so I'm gonna be on anon for this. I. hate. cleaning. I've always hated cleaning. I just...have some strange aversion to cleaning. When I'm elsewhere, I clean just fine. But when it's my own stuff and area...I just avoid it for as long as possible. Executive dysfunction really sucks. What advice do you have that you can give me?
Executive dysfunction is tough, because it's really really hard to get around sometimes. Nothing I say will be a sure fire way to get through it, but I hope something I say can be helpful.
First of all, do not expect that you'll clean the whole house or anything. Just focus on a small amount at a time. Doesn't even have to be a whole room. Make it like, "today I will take care of x in the bathroom." It'll be so much easier. Maybe do like, one task a day if possible, and allow yourself to not keep up with that. You're allowed to skip chores, it's not the end of the world.
I like to open up the windows and let sunlight in, I also really like to blast music (or headphones if need be) and just go for it. I approach it like a jog, activity i need to power through and music is the energy. Serious about that sunlight, it wakes you up and brightens the mood.
As I said, start small. Is there garbage in your room? Pick it up and throw it out. There you go, there's one task. You can call it done there if you want. Do you have dishes scattered around your room? Pick em up and put them in the sink. There you go! A whole new task completed!
If the trash needs to go out, take it out when you leave the house. On your way to work? Take the trash out on the way. Gonna check the mail? Take the trash out.
Dishes can be daunting but if you break it into smaller tasks it can be a lot more manageable. When I'm at my girlfriend's house I tend to do the dishes immediately following the meal. (This is largely cuz they have so few dishes in general and so they're available when we want to eat next buuuut) This makes it so dishes don't stack up. Washing one bowl and one spoon and maybe a pan is a lot less work than a collected stack. You could also just load dishes into a dishwasher (assuming you have one) as you go. A lot of people don't do this which kinda always surprises me, but if you finish your meal, immediately when getting up, put the dishes in the dishwasher. No wait. Just do it. Dishes can't stack if they're already in the machine that's going to clean them.
Executive dysfunction is really hard to get around sometimes, and I'm sorry if none of this actually helped. But, with a lot of things with low energy or depression, you gotta kinda just make yourself do it. I know that seems redundant, "I can't make myself do it that's why it's a problem" but it is genuinely true. Sometimes you gotta just force it to happen. It's ok not to always be on top of everything. It's ok if today you just can't do it. It's ok if there are things you can't do and need help. Don't beat yourself up over it, that's not gonna help. Remember that it's ok to take breaks and not finish tasks.
Reward yourself. After you do the thing, do something you like. Eat chocolate, watch that show you've been waiting for, get high, whatever you want. (I like to take a big hot bath with a lush bath bomb, it's a great reward hehe~)
Buy a maid uniform, lots of people have told me that helps them power through chores :)
I don't know if any of that will help, but I hope it does.
Also, while I'm doing this, back on my last blog I wrote a post in reply to an ask of "how exactly do I clean my room" and I haven't been able to find it. So I think it'd be good to recreate it here. This is a lot more intensive, so anon plz don't feel inclined to do any of this. This is entirely for if people have the energy and ability, a bit closer to what I do.
Put on music. Absolutely the most important thing is having fun with it. Put on that song you like to sing along to, or that song you like to dance to, get yourself some energy. Jam the fuck out.
This is big optional, so feel free to skip this one if you don't want to do it. If you have a ceiling fan, wipe the top of the blades. Dust collects there even if you've been using it. But, if you haven't been using it, you don't want to knock all that dust down when you finally do. Go get yourself a duster for like $5 somewhere. If you just can't do that I'd recommend using a dry rag (always use dry things for dusting).
Do you have any dirty clothes? Whether in a hamper or on the floor, pick them up first and get the washer going, do the rest while the washer runs.
Get a trash bag. Do you have any trash in your room? Empty bottles, cans, wrappers, paper, any trash whatsoever: pick it up and put it in the bag.
Do you have any dishes laying around? Pick them up now and put them in the sink.
Wipe down any surfaces that might be dusty. Again, duster or dry rag. You can use paper towels if you want but I feel they're not very good for this task. Now wipe down any that might be dirty, from trash, dishes or whatever. Wet paper towel is allowed if you have no alternative, wet rag is probably better, lysol wipes tend to be my preference, if you're really fancy then you can get specific cleaners for wood and stuff (I wouldn't worry about this if all your shits cheap Ikea or Walmart though).
Whenever the washer finishes, of course move it to the dryer, but also put your bedding in the wash. You're cleaning the whole room, there's no way there isn't gunk on your bedding. This bit is kinda predicated on being able to wash/dry whenever you want. if you're reliant on a laundromat, edit this to whatever makes sense to you.
If you have carpet, I'd recommend to vacuum now. If you don't have a vacuum, no shame but I do recommend them. I wouldn't recommend a Dyson even though they look and seem cool, if you want a decent vacuum just stick to the normal top brands and you'll be fine. If you want one but don't have much money, get one of those small hand ones. If you have a hard floor, swiffer that shit.
You are largely done! Sometimes things may not be this easy but try your best with what you have and it'll be fine. Even doing just one of these things will feel good afterwards. Feel free to take breaks, to stop all together, reward yourself when you're done. It's just cleaning your room, don't think of it as a big deal.
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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year
Text
infidelity | futile devices pt. 1
pairings: fuckboy!natasha romanoff x fem!reader
natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation
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summary: you and wanda have been best friends ever since you were little babies, and you’ve went through a lot with her. in august 2019 when you met wanda’s girlfriend, natasha, you completely fell in love with her. what happens when the three of you create a love triangle that could possibly ruin everything?
warnings: intense staring, infidelity, and nothing much since it’s only the start of the story.
author’s note: enjoy the first part of the story! what do you want to happen in the next part? let me know!
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Years ago, before I knew what futile devices were, I met Wanda at kindergarten in our small town in New England. She started out as a bully, but after we ate lunch together, I knew we would become more than just a bully and a victim. Since then, she has protected me, especially from those who didn't like me very much. I may have had a crush on her at first, but I was aware that if I said anything inappropriate, our friendship would end. I couldn't stop myself from having a crush on Wanda Maximoff at the time. She was a tall brunette with big green eyes who always tried to protect me. We've been through so much together as best friends, and we even shared our first kiss because no one would dare to kiss me. Wanda, on the other hand, always saved her first mind-blowing kiss for me, and it was surprisingly good when we did it. I recall her saying, "There you go, now you can kiss anyone in this room," but that never happened. I was too afraid to be in a relationship after witnessing Wanda's, which was not particularly good.
She told me the meaning of futile devices while we were in the park together. “Beyond words,” she says. “Futile means vain, pointless. In other words, if you want to say your love for them, you can’t. It’s just too much.”
“Is that supposed to be romantic?” I asked, she only lets out a controlled chuckle before drinking from her flask.
“Sure, if you want it to be.”
Since then, I knew that I could never describe my love for Wanda – because it was too much, too impotent, and vain. If I say it out loud, what would she do? Perhaps she would leave me in the air, possibly never speaking to me again. But knowing her so well, I knew she wouldn’t do that to me. It was still scary to say it out loud, and I’m sure that I could never say how much I love her – no matter how painful it could be.
We stayed friends until we graduated from high school together. Wanda had a boyfriend named Chucky, and I was with Brandon, my date because he was the only boy I could find. Brandon was with me the majority of the time because I didn't want to be alone this summer. I suppose you could say he was my first boyfriend with whom I never lost my virginity. We split up when our first semester began. When he left me, I didn't feel too much emotion; in fact, I was relieved that he did. Wanda asked why I was always smiling when she brought me chocolates after my breakup.
“Aren’t you sad that Brandon left you?” I shook my head, eating the last piece of chocolate bar in the wrapper. “You’re so weird, you know that?”
“Yeah, but I’m your weirdo.”
She only laughs, agreeing with a nod.
“Yes you are,” she said. “Let’s just watch a movie, yeah? We still have to study tomorrow.”
Months later, I was working at a bakery shop while Wanda was trying to learn to be a bartender since it’s always been her first dream job. I did like my life for a little while, working at a bakery shop was the best thing that ever happened to me. Wanda did like hers since she came home with a drunk look on her face. When August came along, we started to become distant from each other. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve gotten so busy with my job and my school work, and she was always out since she has a new girlfriend. I never expected that from her, dating a girl. I mean, I always knew that she was bisexual, but it was unexpected when she told me that she was truly in love with this college girl from a different university.
I was a little jealous because Wanda had been spending too much time with her instead of with me, and if I had to lie to myself, I'd say I was happy for her - but I wasn't. How could you choose someone you met two months ago and decide to leave me hanging? What happened to both of us? This isn't going to last, I tell myself. That was something I had to tell myself in order not to get hurt. But every time she comes home, I get the impression that I'm no longer number one in her heart.
In the third week of September, Wanda decided to bring her girlfriend over to our apartment, with our two friends from the university. While I was preparing for dinner, our friend Peter and Kate was at the door. I opened it slowly and gave them a big smile on my face since I don’t know what other emotions I should use.
“Did you only invite us because Wanda has this amazing hot girlfriend?” Kate giggled, which I nodded in response. She knew that I was joking, I never thought I have humor.
“Are you also excited to meet her?”
“Hey, maybe she’s nice!” Peter exclaimed happily, walking towards the dining area as he sits beside Kate. “It’s only the right time for Wanda, I mean she always has this boyfriend or girlfriend until she’ll break up with them two weeks later.”
“She seems like a green flag,” Kate said. “Aren’t you happy for her? You guys have been best friends ever since you came out from your mother’s vagina.”
I chuckled, “We met at kindergarten.”
“The point is, you should be happy for her. I know you’re still in love with her–”
“We don’t talk about that.”
“-But maybe you should start moving on,” she finishes herself, sighing deeply. “I have a dude for you, his name is Steve. He’s in my class.”
Will this guy help me move on from Wanda Maximoff?
“Oh yeah? What does he do?”
“He’s apparently taking medicine, which means he’s also not available. People who take medicine are always busy, like extremely busy.”
I turned around, shrugging my shoulders. “So what’s the point of me dating this guy then if he’s not available?”
She mimicked my shrug, playing with her fingers. “I don’t know, I was just suggesting–”
“Thanks for the suggestion but, I’m good being on my own.”
I’ve always been on my own, even though Wanda was always around.
30 minutes later, I heard murmuring from the other room, and I realized Wanda had brought her girlfriend, who had caught my eye. She was tall - but not too tall - and had her hair tied in the back of her head; she also had green eyes like Wanda, but hers were darker, so I couldn't see the details of her pupils. When the woman caught my eye, I turned away and hugged Wanda briefly, asking, "So this is her?"
“Yeah,” she replied. “This is Natasha, my girlfriend for a month.”
I cast a quick glance at Natasha and shook her hand; it was calloused but not too rough on my skin. She smiled warmly and said, "It's nice to meet you, Y/n. Wanda has told me lots of stories about you.”
“Like how I’m such a bad friend?” I said in a joking matter, watching as Wanda playfully rolls her eyes. “I’m glad you can make it, how about you sit down? The food is ready.”
I returned to my table and sat beside Wanda while Natasha was in the opposite direction, her eyes roaming all over the place. I assumed that she was enticed by our home since it was full of framed paintings and a telephone from the corner of the room – it wasn’t working, we just decided that it looked nice in our apartment.
“So where do you study, Romanoff?” Kate asked while drinking from the wine glass that I bought from a dollar store. Natasha sighed and placed her fork on the plate, slowly chewing the food.
“I study at Columbia,” she responded quietly. “I met Wanda at my university, and we hit it off right away.”
“But aren’t you from NYU, Wanda?”
“I just had a quick visit at the university, to see if I still had other options.”
“Were you ever going to tell me that you’ll be studying at Columbia?” I asked, trying my best not to show defectiveness about this conversation. “I thought we agreed to study together and graduate in the same school together.”
“That was the plan, and I want to study with you,” Wanda said, sighing through her nose. “I was just looking at my options. If I didn’t end up studying at NYU, then I’d study at Columbia.”
“But if you ever did study in Columbia, were you going to tell me?”
I was hurt by this information since Wanda knows that she was my only friend, and will always be my best friend. Before we even started college, we both agreed that attending the same school was the best option. I guess she changed her mind after meeting Natasha, who appears to be my nemesis. It’s not like I didn’t want the best for her, but her going to the same school as I made me feel like I was important to her. I would say I’m a little self-centered.
“Of course,” said Wanda with a small smile on her face, holding hands with Natasha. “We still live together, you know? What would be a harm studying in at another university?”
She was right, she has always been right.
I caught Natasha's gaze while we were eating and talking about physics, which I dislike talking about because I despise science. Her eyes appeared... hungry. But I couldn't assume she wanted me that way because she had Wanda, so I shifted my gaze to Kate's. But I could still feel her eyes on me as if they were glued to me only. When I returned my gaze to her, she was staring at Wanda. As strange as it may sound, I liked how she gave me those stares in her eyes because no one would ever stare at me like that.
“What do you study, Y/n?” Natasha asked, eating a forkful of meat that I had just baked in the oven.
“Literature,” I replied quietly, placing my foot on top of the other since I feel like I’m having anxiety talking to this woman who looks like a senior. “You? You seem like a person who doesn’t study.”
“And she speaks,” Wanda giggled, causing everyone to laugh too. “Who taught you how to talk back, missy?”
I shrugged, “Just myself.”
"Photography, in case you were wondering," the redhead replied, wiping her mouth with a tissue as she drank a bottle of beer that I had opened for her. "I photograph places, people, and a variety of other subjects. That’s why me and Wanda are a match, she likes photography.”
There was no way I'd ever match this obnoxious, self-centered, narcissistic individual. I wouldn't call her a narcissist, but she certainly has the appearance of one. Plus, why am I thinking that I could ever get with her? She clearly has those lovey-dovey eyes on Wanda; not me.
“What year are you in?” Kate chimes in, looking at Natasha with curiosity in her eyes.
“Fourth year,” she said. “This is my last year, actually. After that, I might move back to Ohio.”
“Why Ohio?” Peter suddenly asked. Natasha only sighs in response and takes another drink from her beer, smacking her lips together, as if she doesn’t know what to say next or do. Yet, she still replies in that husk tone.
“I have a family there,” she slowly responded, looking briefly at Wanda and then towards me. “Wanda says you’re from Ohio too, that’s where you two met.”
“That’s true,” I said. “But we moved to New York shortly after high school, I’m not technically from here.”
“It seems like it, you don’t have that New Yorker accent.”
"But Peter does," Wanda laughs as she pours herself another cheap red wine and swirls it in her glass. "How do you like living in New York?" It's as if we're in our thirties, but half of us are only in our twenties, and Natasha is almost in her late twenties because Wanda told me her age.
“It’s great,” he says in a positive tone and clasped his hands together on his lap. “The rent is expensive, but it’s all good. I still like the smell of the air here, it never gets old.”
“New York isn’t the most ideal city,” Kate chimed in again. “But you know, they have good schools here. My parents are billionaires, so like I don’t really have to worry about rent.”
“I wish I lived in your life,” I murmured, smirking at her playfully, which Wanda saw and felt uncomfortable in her seat. Was she jealous? “You have billionaire parents and live that rich life, I’m just a girl from Ohio who is incredibly in love with her job.”
“Didn’t you say you work at the bakery?” now, Natasha’s eyes were on me as she spoke. I slowly nodded my head before taking a sip from my wine glass, licking it between my lips. “Do you like working there?”
“It pays the rent, so yeah.”
After dinner, Peter and Kate said their goodbyes and returned home, leaving just me, Wanda, and Natasha on the couch. I was scrolling through Tinder on my phone when I noticed Natasha giving Wanda a head massage and kissing her on the forehead. When I see them do this, especially right in front of me, it makes my stomach churn. How did Wanda find someone so quickly and not me? Why isn't she head over heels in love with me? Why can't I be the one? But if I keep comparing myself to this woman, I know I'll end up feeling terrible.
“You guys should get a room, you’re making me want to vomit," I muttered under my breath, turning off my phone to get a better look at them - but that turned out to be the most sickening thing I've ever done because I was watching them kissing sweetly right in front of me, causing me to stand up and walk back to my room. I went to bed with my lights turned off after a quick warm shower and skincare routine. They were either going to kill me or that girlfriend Wanda had brought into this apartment. Throughout this eventful evening, her eyes were on me instead of Wanda’s – which is kind of suspicious.
I took a deep breath and rolled over on my back, clasping my hands together as my palms sweat. I'm not sure what was wrong with me; I just had this strange feeling about Natasha. Something thumped inside of me when I met her. I sighed and whispered, “Futile devices, how ridiculous that sounds.”
And it truly does if you think about your best friend’s girlfriend.
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it gets real in the next part lol
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 27 days
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could you please do more averyjameson hcs?? I miss my babies so much 😭😭😭
averyjameson head canons
yess! i love them with my entire heart. i will never get over averyjameson. hope you like them <3. @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys helped me with this. i hope this makes up for the atrocity that was my last post.
jamie will sit with her for hours listening to her talk about her mom. he takes note of everything she says in his head (like she said her mom used to make her snickerdoodle cookies sometimes and she hasn't had them in years. jamie learned how to make them and gave them to her as a dessert during one of their rooftop dates)
when there's a lot of paparrazi around, he walks in front of her so that she's hidden from the camera bc he knows she hates getting pictures taken of her (he makes sure to hold her hand the entire time so he doesn't lose her)
they love taking walks at night when possible. they know they cant do it often cause there's a chance avery might get killed, but they're both night owls so they try to go as often as possible.
they love sending each other snaps of funny pictures they took of the other person.
avery finds the fact that he's half british hot so he speaks in a british accent sometimes to make her blush
he knows she sometimes takes the comments on her appearance seriously so he calls her 'my pretty girl' 'gorgeous' and other things so she knows he finds her beautiful and that she shouldn't listen to those comments
they love having dates in the dark. rooftop dates at night, candlelight dinners when its dark, picnic dates while stargazing, etc
most of the pictures the paparazzi manage to take of them include jamie staring at avery like she hung the moon for him/following her around like a lost puppy. fans think they're adorable and love making edits.
jamie loves seeing her hair in a braid. he finds it really beautiful so he learned how to make braids so that he could do them on her.
avery gets cold really easily so he makes sure he always has one of his hoodies on handy to give to her when she gets cold.
they love taking baths together. they find them so relaxing and comforting. thats when they usually talk about their feelings and things (cause 1. they're back to back so they can't see each other and 2. they're already naked physically so why not also emotionally if you know what i mean)
he gets her special editions of her favorite childhood books that her mom used to read her. he gets them signed by the author and all.
jameson has a ring with 'avery's property' engraved on it. avery finds it cringe but jamie still loves it.
jamie watches all of her interviews over and over again bc he eats anything related to avery up. he saves his favorite interviews and posts them on his insta account.
his background picture is a pic of avery holding a cup of hot chocolate in winter. she's smiling really widely (very rare) all bundled up in her coat and mittens. she's all red in the face
avery hates the picture and has tried to change the background pic before but jamie either stops her or puts it back.
avery's background pic is a picture of jamie staring cross eyed at his nose bc she told him he had smth on it but he didn't
when avery goes in the shower, she puts clothes on the counter to wear afterwards. he always sneaks in and replaces with his own clothes cause he loves seeing her wear it.
like i said before, she gets really cold in the winter. her nose gets so red jamie calls her rudolf. he pokes her nose and tells her she's adorable
literally then entire fandom hcs that jamie posts thirst traps. i hc that he sends them to avery beforehand to get her approval. she finds them really cringe and weird but she always blushes while watching them and jamie thinks thats approval.
they get really cold at night during the winter. they burrito themselves in blankets and huddle up close to each other
when jamie can't sleep, avery sings to him. he finds her voice calming and it reminds him that she's there (alive).
jamie got a shirt from xander with avery's face on it as a gag gift. he actually wears it in public.
whenever someone hates on avery's appearance in public. jamie always goes 'isn't my gf so fucking hot' or 'aren't haters so fucking annoying. they're such attention seeking bastards'. everyone shuts up.
jameson beefs with her celebrity crush online (its up to you who it is)
one of avery's favorite things to do is to lie her head on his lap and stare up at him. jamie will look down at her and they just end up staring at each other lovingly whispering sweet things about one another.
jamie did a ton of research on flowers and their meaning to be able to create the perfect bouquet for avery.
jamie has a playlist with all of the songs he wants to play at their wedding
they love having ice cream together. they'll huddle up in bed and eat it straight from the carton. they love trying out new flavors.
jamie loves putting his hand on her cheek when he kisses her (and just in general). he finds it really intimate.
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kiss-theggoat · 11 months
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Familiar
Ghostface (Billy Loomis) x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: You've been having a shameful relationship with a certain Woodsboro slasher. One night, during a particularly passionate encounter, you discover who it actually is you’ve been spending time with.
Warnings: Smut, you don’t know you’re fucking Billy so I guess elements of non-con
“Guys come on! So what if I’m a virgin, I mean it’s normal!” Randy sat on the concrete ledge, fighting for his life against the vultures that are Stu and Billy. They cackled and fist bumped, turning back towards Randy to listen to him dig himself deeper into the virginity hole.
You overheard this conversation as you walked towards the group, lunch tray in hand and backpack slung over one shoulder, making it ache. Stu and Tatum sat furthest to the right, as usual, on top of eachother, kissing and touching, Tatum sitting on his lap. Then Sydney to their left, then Billy beside her, chewing on some apple slices Syd had brought. Randy sat furthest to the right, a few feet away from Billy. You strode over, plopping down between Billy and Randy. “What’s everyone arguing about?” You asked with a smile, also silently questioning if your school chicken sandwich would give you salmonella.
Stu laughed, tossing a chocolate in his mouth. “We just figured out that ol’ stunner Randy Meeks here is a virgin.” He threw a candy towards Randy, making him swat it away and flip Stu off. You were conflicted. You could take Randy’s side and say you were too, but that’d be a lie. If you said you weren’t a virgin, then everyone would ask who you’d slept with, because you told Syd and Tatum that you were a virgin. They’d know it happened recently, and you couldn’t exactly tell them you’d been meeting with a certain ghost-faced serial killer.
You shrugged. “Me too.” With a sneer, you peeled the bun back to reveal a questionably pink looking breaded piece of chicken. “You want this?” You held the burger out to Stu, who snatched it up and began to scarf it down like he hadn’t eaten in a month, which left you with a few bland, soggy french fries.
“A-HA!” Randy pointed an accusatory finger at Billy. “Told you! Totally normal to be a virgin. Just cause you're used to seeing movies where every single teenager is having sex doesn’t mean that-“
“It’s not the movies, Spielberg.” Billy interrupted. “Most of the people I know - in this school - aren’t virgins.”
You made eye contact with Billy, just now realizing that he was staring you down, deep brown eyes burning holes into yours. Trying to play off how nervous you were around him, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the big deal, Billy? Being a virgin isn’t embarrassing.”
Billy dropped the apple slice he was eating, leaning closer to you. Something in his eyes looked right through you. It looked like he knew all of your secrets, every little thing you’ve done in the dark. You tensed and backed up, biting half of your cardboard-like fry. “What?” You asked defensively, trying to get him to back off.
He didn’t say a word for a few seconds, staring at you with the same blank expression. “You’re really a virgin, huh?”
Did he know? How could he possibly know? Did EVERYONE know? You started to panic internally, but kept it cool on the outside. “Yes! I don’t know what the big deal is. Just because I haven’t found someone yet doesn’t mean I’m a loser or something.”
“Yeah right! You’re a total loser!” Stu yelled, finishing your sandwich. “I can’t believe a hottie like you is a virgin! Maybe you and Randy can fuck, get it over with.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. You threw a fry at him, but it missed him, unlike Tatum’s slap on the chest, “Ugh, Stu don’t be gross.” She whined.
Randy’s face was bright red. You always thought he might have a little thing for you, but you’d pretty much had your eyes on Billy ever since high school started. You were glad to be his friend, but when he started dating one of your best friends, Syd, you couldn’t help but be consumed completely with jealousy. She knew you’d had a crush on him a little bit, and still dated him. You convinced her you were over it. Girl code, y’know?
“I’m not rushing to not be a virgin. I’m fine with it.” You said matter-of-factly and ate another fry. Billy scoffed, leaning back against his hands, which earned him a glare from both you and Sydney. You had no clue why he was being so rude about this, he couldn’t know. The bell rang out, signaling both the terrible start of your Algebra class and the blissful end of this conversation. “See you guys later.” You mumbled, taking your tray with you as you left.
The alarm clock beside you read 12:36 AM. You had been reading next to your lamp at your desk for a while, procrastinating your homework long enough to where it hopefully disappeared. With a yawn and an ache behind your eyes you decided it was bedtime. As you stood up to turn your lamp off, you jumped at the sound of your phone ringing. Your body had an immediate response, like Pavlov’s dogs. A phone call late at night usually meant a visit from your favorite ghost.
You picked up the line. “Hello?” You asked, a small smile tugging at your lips as you mindlessly chewed on your fingernail.
“Hi pretty girl…” his sultry voice had you hot in your cool bedroom, cheeks turning pink. “Your blinds are closed. I thought I told you to keep those open.”
“Sorry.” You said softly. “It was hot today…” you walked towards your curtains and moved them to the side, standing in the window.
A hearty chuckle sounded from over the line. “There she is…wearing my favorite shirt…good girl…”
You looked down at the tank top you had on, pink, simple, but low cut and revealing. Perfect for bed and, apparently, Ghostface. With it, you wore a pair of plain black lounge shorts that fit loose around your thighs.
“I’m in a hurry tonight, princess so get to it.” He said quickly, “Is the window unlocked like I told you?”
You nodded, big enough for him to see from his usual spot in the yard. You decided to listen to the man, getting to work. You set the phone down for just a second, quickly taking your shirt off. You had no bra, so he had a full unobstructed view of your tits he loved so much. You picked up the phone again and heard a small groan from him. “Attagirl…”
You shimmied your shorts off your legs, pleased that you had worn panties he liked, your girliest ones, purple with a little gemstone heart on the waistband.
“It’s almost like you knew I was coming, pretty girl.”
You bit your lip, leaning in closer to the window. “Come inside already…” You whispered needily, voice almost trembling from your desperation.
One minute your yard was empty, normal. The picture of suburban bliss. The next, it was overtaken by the shadow of a brutal, ruthless killer, threatening aura filling the whole yard. He should scare you, but your body had a visceral reaction to him. Face hot, skin tingling, panties wet. You wanted him every single night like you’d never wanted anything before, and seeing him was like lighting a fire in your chest. It was borderline humiliating how bad you needed him.
You slid the window open, screen discarded weeks ago, and you waited with vibrating skin. You watched his gloved hands grip the window sill, strong arms pulling him up into your childhood bedroom. Maybe that was part of the appeal. He was so forbidden, having a secret relationship in your home with a man like him was so hot to you.
There he stood in all his glory, black boots heavy on your white rug. He was on you in seconds, hands wandering, grabbing your tits hard with one, the other pushing your panties down. “So wet already.” He growled. His voice close-up was weird, but something you’d gotten used to. You knew he was using a voice changer, it crackled very once in a while and you could hear another voice in tandem with his deep, modulated one. His real voice. You couldn’t hear it well enough to know who it was, but you liked hearing it anyway.
You nodded, breathless, backing up to your bed while pulling him at the bicep with you. You laid back, and he slid your panties off the rest of the way, slipping them into his back pocket. That made your face flame red. The fact that he wanted to keep your wet panties was insane to you, made you feel hot, made you feel wanted. It made you feel like he needed you as bad as you needed him.
“Please…” you whined, pulling on his cloak as he stepped between your legs.
“Needy, huh? Such a pretty girl shouldn’t be acting like such a slut.” He snapped, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. His gloved hands trailed up the smooth skin of your inner thighs, stopping at the apex to admire the way you looked in the low warm light of your bedroom.
He slid his glove off, something he’s never done before. You looked down quickly at his hand, but a firm grip on your jaw slammed you back down to the bed. “No peeking, princess.”
You nodded, finally feeling his skin on yours. His touch felt so much better than the rough material of his gloves. Based on the glance you got, his hands were big, but smooth. Something you didn’t expect from him. You expected rough and dirty hands, not soft and manicured fingers.
All of your pensive thoughts were scrambled when you felt his finger push inside of you, quite easily with how wet you were at this point. He groaned at the feeling of your warm insides, eager to be inside you. A second finger slid in beside the first, curling upwards against the soft spot he knew got a reaction from you. You tensed, legs spreading further with a whine at his touch.
Warmth spread over your legs and belly, up to your chest and face. His fingers squelched as he fucked them into you, curled upwards at every right moment. Your bedsheets felt so soft against your hands as you gripped onto them, eyes closed and mouth open, wanton moans escaping you. While you weren’t focused, he slid a hand underneath his cloak, palming himself through his jeans.
He grumbled something softly, something you didn’t hear.
“Huh?” You asked, that small word the only thing you could muster between moans.
“Wanna taste you.” He said louder, grinding his hips into his hand. “You're gonna be a good girl and keep your eyes shut, okay?” He asked, but you felt a threatening undertone present in his words. You nodded quickly, but whined when his fingers left you. You felt yourself clench around nothing,feeling empty without him inside you.
You shut your eyes tightly, hearing him move to the window to shut the curtain. Your hands were clammy as they pressed over your eyes, you had to make sure you wouldn’t peek. You wanted to see what he looked like, but didn’t want to end up in the paper as the newest Ghostface victim.
For a minute, you waited, then suddenly, an eruption of pleasure as you felt his mouth on you, tongue running up your clit, hands pressing your thighs down against the bed. Without even thinking about it, your hands flew down to grip his hair. He didn’t seem to mind. You tried to gather what little information you could from the feeling. He felt sweaty, but his hair was soft, a little bit longer. But that’s all you could gather. You scrunched your face to emphasize the fact that your eyes were closed.
He sucked your clit into his mouth as two large fingers pushed inside of you. You let out a loud moan, mouth hanging open and back arching up off of the bed. “Holy shit…” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair. He groaned, squeezing your thighs tight with his bare hands, to your delight, both gloves were off. He was becoming way more comfortable with you.
You felt yourself get close, you felt tingles on your thighs and up your waist, all the way up to your arms. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you felt so good and you couldn’t think straight. At that moment, you wanted to see him. You needed to know who he was. Desperately, you wanted to kiss him.
“I’m…I…” you whined.
“You’re gonna cum?” He asked, voice breathy with small pants. You tensed up. His voice changer wasn’t on. He sounded so familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it. It was bugging you, but you couldn’t focus on it too long as your orgasm overtook your body, gushing over his fingers and legs trembling as a damn near shriek left your mouth. You felt like you couldn’t see, your ears were ringing and you felt like you had just been beat up. You decided to look. You had to. His voice. You knew him.
You opened your eyes to see the man you’d been fucking the last few weeks. His lips and chin glistening with your cum, face flushed and soft pants escaping his plumped lips, hair sweaty and tousled from your pulling, falling in front of those gorgeous brown eyes.
You couldn’t believe it. You stared in shock. “….B-Billy?”
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differenteagletragedy · 6 months
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Your writing is wonderful and so much fun to read!!! If you’re willing, could we get some wholesome headcanons about living with each of the OL boys? Thank you, you’re amazing!
Thank you so much, that makes me so happy! So do wholesome thoughts about these boys! I could have gone on so much longer lol but here you go!
-- Baxter is a lawn guy. If you move out to the suburbs (he'll want to if you have a kid), then he's going to be SO EXCITED to pick out a good lawn mower, to get out there and trim the grass. He's got a little garden going and everything. He's trimming the bushes with glee.
-- He also cooks, both because he loves to cook and because he loves to cook for you. If he can cook with something from his garden, then he's the happiest guy on the block, at least.
-- Meanwhile, Derek is a grill guy. He has cheesy little aprons and everything, and any opportunity he has, he's out there grilling dinner.
Derek: See, what you want to do is put the charcoal in a pyramid, you get the best heat that way.
Cove: I honestly could not care less.
-- Cove doesn't like to cook, but he's got all your takeout orders memorized. He's going to stop and get something after work, he's going to know exactly what to get for you. Do you love that one sauce from that one place? He's not leaving without it. He will absolutely never bring you home the wrong thing.
-- Baxter likes blankets. There's a closet full of them, all different kinds. If anyone is ever stumped on what kind of gift to get him, they're going to learn pretty quick that a blanket is a great bet. If he's sitting down at his apartment and it's not to eat a meal, he's gonna have a blanket. He is also very happy to share :)
-- I mentioned this in another one, but Derek is really good with his hands. He can fix anything. It makes him feel really good too, to be so helpful, so be sure to tell him that he's doing a good job.
-- If you've got a garage, that is the most dad garage you've ever seen in your life. He's got a work bench, a few tool boxes, anything and everything he could possibly need to do what needs to be done around the house.
You, going out to the garage one random Monday: Derek, what are you doing?
Derek, picking up a power tool: I'm building a porch for you, babe!
-- Derek is a "babe" guy, btw. Baxter is a "darling" guy, and Derek is a "babe" guy. Cove just says your name, but we already know that.
-- If you live with Cove then you are contractually obligated to go camping on the beach at least once every summer. He doesn't actually make you sign a contract, but he would if he needed to.
-- One time you surprise him because you find a beach where you can watch baby sea turtles hatch and he loses his mind. Cries every time he thinks about it. Named a few, will ask you how you think they're doing for the rest of your life.
-- Hot beverages with Baxter! It doesn't matter if you like coffee, tea, hot chocolate, whatever, he's got a good selection and he'll make you something whenever you ask, and a lot of times even if you don't.
Baxter right when you walk in the door after texting him in the car that you'd had a rough day at work: Tea, darling?
-- Baxter also has nightmares sometimes, but it helps if you snuggle him tight. He gets sort of embarrassed by them, he doesn't want to be that sad broken boy for the rest of his life, so just pull him close and tell him to go back to sleep.
-- Derek will want to play video games -- also something we already know, but still true. Every time a new Mario Kart comes out (and no the Mario Kart 8 expansions do NOT count, Nintendo) you go to the midnight release and take the next day off work to play. You have to, it's tradition.
-- One day the GameCube is going to break and he'll try to play it off a little but he's going to be really sad about it. Hope you can find a good deal on ebay!
-- So I had this college professor who was talking to me once about directing a play, and he told me that a lot of directors make the mistake of using just kisses or hugs or sexual touches to show intimacy. He said that one time he saw a show with a scene with a husband and wife, and it was this intense scene, and the husband just slid his hand under his wife's shirt and put his hand on her stomach. Not higher or lower, there wasn't any pregnancy subtext, it was just a nice tummy touch. So now every time I like a character with a love interest I imagine that.
-- That means that Cove, Baxter and Derek all like to just rest their hand on your stomach. It's just nice and cozy there.
-- Cove is going to come home with a bouquet of poppies a lot. It's always going to be precious.
-- Baxter is going to tease you mercilessly but in the most loving way. I mention this a lot but it's because it is my truth. Did you trip coming out of the bedroom that morning? Get ready to hear about it for the rest of the day.
-- Derek is an early bird, but if he feels like he can't get out of bed without waking you up, then he's going to stay in bed as long as humanly possible.
Mr. Suarez: Son, you're late!
Derek: Yeah ... uh, traffic.
Cliff: Lol ok
-- If you're in college when you live with Cove then he is going to make sure you take your studies VERY SERIOUSLY. You ask him if he wants to watch something? Nuh uh, you've got a paper to write. He doesn't care if it's not due until the day after tomorrow, you need to work on it.
-- But if you want to binge watch anything, Baxter's your guy. Let him grab a blanket.
-- Baxter likes to give you a bath. Not in like a sexy way, he just likes to take care of you like that. He's got fancy soaps and he'll put on lotion and do your skincare after and everything.
-- You better hope you don't live near a kid, because if some child knocks on the door trying to sell something, Derek is going to spend irresponsibly.
You walking in the door to see boxes and boxes of that fundraiser chocolate: What is this?
Derek: *sheepishly* Nothing?
Cove, shoving a third candy bar in this mouth: Yeah, it's nothing.
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thesunhatesme · 1 month
Text
A missing tooth
Wc:1,1 k Chapter: 2 Chapter one
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Phantom and Swiss woke up early the next morning, it was still dark outside. They got up and started getting dressed. Aether knocked on the door and came in with some pain meds for Phantom, who gladly took them. Then he wanted to take his blood pressure before letting him go.
They made their way back to the den for some breakfast and met up with Copia. Breakfast was proven very difficult when missing a tooth, biting in a sandwich was not easy and anything coming in contact with it hurt, so he ended up eating some dry cereal with a glass of chocolate milk.
Breakfast was finished and Swiss helped him brush his teeth which was proven to be just as painful as the night before. But they were very careful and took brakes when needed to make it as comfortable as possible. After ten minutes they were done and Swiss helped tame his hair.
“Will you come with me?” Phantom asked as Swiss brushed his hair. He didn't really want to go alone, especially not to the dentist.
“I'm sorry Bug, but I have to help in the infirmary today” Swiss answered as he looked at Phantom in the mirror.
“Oh” Phantom mumbled and looked down.
“But Copia will go with you, that's okay, right”
Phantom shrugged “I guess”. It wasn't Swiss but he loved Copia and trusted him too. It would be fine, he told himself.
Swiss hugged Phantom goodbye and gave him a kiss between the horns before they left. Phantom didn't want to go but Copia led him to the car and let him decide the music and Swiss waved them goodbye as they drove off. 
Copia told him about what the dentist would do on the way there, he knew that just knowing what was going to happen would calm Phantom down very much. He also promised him a McDonalds chicken nugget meal as a treat after.
They arrived at the dentist and Copia parked the car. Phantom had fallen asleep on the way so Copia woke him up and they started walking towards the entrance. Copia noticed how tense his ghoul was and grabbed his hand, and they continued walking hand in hand.
When they entered Copia checked Phantom in before sitting down in the waiting room, Phantom resting his head on Copias shoulder and Copia holding his hand and trying to comfort him. It was hard but he didn't run away and Copia took that as a win.
Soon enough someone called them in and led them to a room. Copia sat down in a chair by the wall and Phantom sat down in the chair in the middle of the room. Everything was white, the walls, the floor and the sealing, everything except for the chair, that was blue.The dentist introduced himself and explained what they would do.
The dentist started by putting a heavy thing around Phantom's neck and upper chest, he explained how it would protect him from the x-ray. Then he put something in his mouth and asked him to bite down on it. It hurt a bit and was very tricky, but he managed. The dentist and Copia left the room so that Phantom could be x-rayed.
The dentist sat down by his desk and looked over the results. He then turned around and held them up to show Copia and Phantom. “You can see here” he said as he pointed, “that there's a crack hiding under the gum and if you look closely” he continued as he took a red marker and circled around a spot, “You can see that the jaw bone is chipped”
“Will you be able to fix it?” Copia asked, concern painting his face. 
“Not today, he will need a surgery, but we can fix the tooth temporarily”
The dentist started preparing everything he would need to fix the tooth and prepared the anesthetic syringes, explaining that they would numb his mouth and he wouldn't feel a thing. He told them about how he would take away the nerves that were exposed and then try to glue the peaces of tooth back together. 
The dentist tipped back the blue chair and draped something blue over Phantom's upper body. Copia held his hand when it was time for the numbing. It didn't hurt, it just felt cold, it was a very weird sensation.
The dentist attached something to his lips, he couldn't feel it but he could see it in the mirror above him. Then he put some blue medical wrap on the things and cut a hole for his tooth. He explained how it was important that the chemicals only came in contact with the tooth because they could harm the body.
When all the preparation was done, the dentist took out something that he said would take away the exposed nerves. He held the thing up to his tooth and as soon as he started, Phantom's whole body tensed, back bowing off the bed as the pain rushed through his body.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Copia yelled as he rushed over to Phantom's side, taking his hand again. “Can you give him anything more?” He asked, he hated seeing his ghouls in pain, it made him sick to the stomach. 
“Of course I can, it's not supposed to hurt this much” The dentist answered as he started preparing one more anesthetic syringe. Copia held Phantom's hand and stroked his thigh to comfort him. It had scared Phantom, it felt like his tooth was on fire and it sent shock waves through his whole body.
The dentist injected the anesthesia and continued to put the tooth together. It didn't hurt at all this time, but Phantom was still tense and the muscles in his body started getting shaky from how tense they were. Copia of course noticed and put his hands on his shaky muscles to try to get him to relax. He knew Phantom would be exhausted after this, and he didn't want him to be sore too.
The dentist was done and started taking away all the clips and medical wrap. It was finally done. He tipped the chair up again and gave Phantom a glass of water to wash his mouth out with.
“I want you to be very careful the next two weeks, no biting with your front teeth, especially no hard things like apples or carrots” The dentist told them. He kept on telling Copia what Phantom would be able to do and not. Phantom tried to listen, but he was so exhausted. But Copia listened carefully and asked questions, wanting the best for Phantom.
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lfghughes · 1 year
Text
Study Break ft. John Marino
a/n: for all my john lovers here you go, a sweet angel baby
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There was no amount of caffeine that could possibly get you through exam week. You stared endlessly at your computer screen and your eyes were starting to burn. Plus you were running low on your most recent cup of coffee. How were you supposed to pass this exam and why was it worth so many points to begin with? You also knew the more nervous you were about it the more likely you were to not do well and it had nothing to do with not knowing the content and all to do with nerves.
A cup of coffee was placed in front of you and you were confused as to who was interrupting your study session. Your eyes went up to a cute boy, one that you were sure you had seen here a couple of times before but you had never actually talked to. “I asked them what your usual was and they told me this so I hope it’s right.” He explained and you looked at him, still confused as to why he was giving you coffee.
“You looked stressed and I thought it would help. I also got you a chocolate chip muffin if you like those.” He set the muffin down that he had been holding. “Oh, thank you. You really didn’t have to do all of that.” He quickly waved your words off and held his hand out to shake yours. “I’m John, by the way. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you here a couple of times but you’ve never looked this stress.”
“Exams.” You explained, one word was all you really needed. “I can help you study if you want, I know a few tricks to help when it comes to studying.” Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have him help. You moved your bag from the empty chair next to you so he could sit there. Pushing your computer in between the two of you so he could see what you were looking at. Grabbing the muffin he got you, you ate some and held some out for him as well figuring you might as well share.
Studying actually felt a lot nicer with him and he was right, he knew some tricks that were pretty helpful and some of them even included tips on remaining calm and not psyching yourself out during the exam itself. “Thank you so much for helping me out today. I was one more powerpoint away from a breakdown so I appreciate it. I owe you coffee next time.” You told him and a small smile grew on his lips. 
“Well actually, do you think maybe you’d want to go out to eat sometime this week? Like a date or well it doesn’t have to be a date at all. Completely up to you.” He rambled and you let out a small laugh. “That sounds nice, how about we celebrate me finishing my exams this week by doing dinner on Saturday?” He quickly nodded his head at your idea. “We’ll celebrate you passing for sure.”
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dyns33 · 3 months
Text
Down the Pit - Part 2
I think I'll make like 5 or 6 part for this story. While writing other Bane's stories, because I love the man.
Tag : @jaxitaxibolehlaf (I remembered, I hope you'll like it)
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It had been almost five years since Y/N had left the Pit.
The world had continued to turn, she had found a new job, a bigger apartment, but nothing made sense anymore.
Out of curiosity, Y/N had done some research on Ra's al ghul, but it had yielded nothing. No information either on the infernal prison of India, on Talia or Bane.
She held out hope that just typing these names into Google or whispering them in the street would one day bring them up, since the ninja leader had found her that way the first time.
It was also possible, even certain, that he had never lost sight of her since. Y/N didn’t feel like she was being monitored, but they were probably very good at it. It wouldn't make any difference if she indicated that she wanted them to show themselves, they would stay hidden.
Maybe if they made a lot of noise, they would have moved. By going to an independent journalist to tell them her whole story, with the certainty that he would publish even if she had no proof to offer.
But they would find a way to make it all disappear. They would kill the journalist, and maybe they would kill her too.
So Y/N waited, without really waiting, remaining alone with her memories and her nightmares.
However, she didn't think about all that at all when someone knocked on her door and she went to open it without looking at who it was.
The girl was brunette, her hair tied in a messy ponytail. Her large almost black eyes stared at her while her face remained impassive. The clothes she wore were slightly too big, as if she didn't know how to dress or had grabbed what she could. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen.
It's been almost five years. But it only took a moment, a brief moment, for Y/N to forget how to breathe, taking the girl into her arms.
“Talia !” she cried, hugging her tightly. "Talia, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you so much !"
"… I missed you too." the little girl whispered, shyly returning her embrace.
Obviously, her father didn't hold her often. The master of the League of Shadows, as Talia told her it was called, preferred to train her so that she would be ready to take his place when the time came.
It wasn't really the life Y/N would have wanted for the little girl she had practically raised in the Pit. It had nothing to do with the bedtime stories she told her.
While eating chocolate for the first time, Talia told her about what she was learning from her instructor, a man named Barsad. The girl didn't like him too much, because he was too strict and he had vulture eyes according to her.
In addition to basic lessons like writing, math, and geography, Talia learned to fight, kill, manipulate weak minds, lead troops of soldiers, and many other things a child of her age shouldn't have to learn.
Locked in a temple in the Himalayas, she had only seen the things Y/N had told her about in pictures. Except the snow. There was a lot of snow, an intense cold, absolutely not alleviated by the people around her.
That was why Talia had decided to look for Y/N as soon as she had the chance. Her father had told her that she had abandoned her, leaving her in his care while begging to be sent home, and with the promise that she would never hear from the child again.
"I believed him… I was young and stupid. I hated you for a long time, and then I realized that he must have been lying, because you would never have done that ! You wouldn't have left me. When Barsad told me I was going on my first overseas mission, I knew it was time."
Thanks to everything he had taught her, it was easy to escape the surveillance of Barsad and his men. After finding a disguise, Talia had managed to get to Gotham without attracting attention, until she found Y/N's apartment.
It might have been difficult, but with her training, stalking someone was perfectly natural.
In addition to the need to see Y/N again, Talia also wanted to see the world she had dreamed of so much when she was in the Pit.
The plane had scared her a little, she wasn't sure she liked the city with all the noises, the smells, the lights, but seeing so many people was fascinating for her.
The feeling of new freedom was exhilarating. She could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, talk to whoever she wanted, eat whatever she wanted… And Talia wanted it all.
"I want to watch TV ! I want to dance ! I want to go to the beach !" the little princess of shadows almost ordered, jumping around in circles in the living room. “Now, now, now !”
"Calm down, Talia. You should probably call your father, he'll be worried."
"I don't care ! He lied to me. I want to try pizza."
"And… What about Bane ? Have you heard from Bane ?" Y/N asked with a bit of fear.
Talia stopped jumping, staring at her with a serious look. For a moment, Y/N trembled, thinking that she was going to tell her that he was dead, or that Ra's al ghul had refused to go get him.
"Bane… is fine. I'll call him."
There were many things her father had denied her, but going to save the man who had kept her safe since birth didn't seem possible.
Since he was strong and intelligent, as well as being completely devoted to Talia, it was decided that he could be useful, and he was allowed to join the League of Shadows. He quickly became an important member, earning the title of lieutenant.
Talia didn't see him often, at least not as often as she would have liked. As if he didn't want them to be together, her father sent Bane on missions outside the temple very regularly, and when he didn't have to report, he trained the new recruits.
Obedient, because he owed him his life and respect, the giant still found time to come and see Talia training. He asked Barsad, whom he treated like a brother, to give him news and watch over her in his absence.
Shyly, the girl admitted that he hadn't spoken about Y/N once since he was taken out of the Pit. No questions, no worries. Perhaps he also believed that she had abandoned them, or perhaps he had understood that their leader did not want her to be part of their lives.
The call was quick, calm. Talia gave the address where she was, firmly requesting that Bane and no one else come pick her up. No doubt she wanted to offer them a moment alone, all three of them, like before.
The tension was almost palpable when three knocks were given on the door. As Y/N took a deep breath, she was held back by the girl, who stared at her with great seriousness, but also what looked like fear.
“Promise me you’ll always love him.”
"… What ?"
"You love Bane. Nothing has changed."
"Of course. Why are you so worried ? Do you think… Do you think he doesn't want to be here ?"
"He'll be the happiest of all. Promise me."
Y/N promised her. She understood better the reasons for this insistence when she opened the door.
Taller than she remembered, Bane stood still until she invited him inside. Like his pupil, his eyes showed nothing, the only part of his face visible between a hat and a huge scarf.
It wasn't exactly cold outside, but since he was coming from a snowy mountain, Y/N figured he didn't have time to check the temperature of Gotham.
As he greeted Talia, he seemed to hesitate. It was not polite to keep his face hidden like that. With a gesture of her head, the young girl gave him a silent order. Then the presence of the scarf was clear.
The mask was strange. Impossible to say if it was so complicated and imposing for technical reasons, or also in order to scare.
For a moment, Y/N was afraid. But not because of Bane. More for him, wondering why he had that horrible mask, what had happened to him, but not knowing if she had the right to ask such a thing.
When he first spoke, his voice was weird, distorted. The pronunciation was also not normal. Sparing her any torture, between asking and staying in the dark.
"The other prisoners didn't accept that I help you escape. With everyone against me, I didn't have the slightest chance. But the doctor finished the job, trying to treat me."
“You… Are you in pain ?”
"No."
She wanted to know more, but Y/N decided now wasn’t the time. She would see later if he could remove it or if it might kill him. It didn't matter anyway, as she had promised Talia.
Instead, she held him in her arms, as she had held the child, letting her tears fall. This seemed to scare the giant, but he stood still, letting her do so.
"I missed you both so much. I'm so happy you're here."
"… Habibi." he whispered, his head leaning slightly to rest against hers.
The separaton was not easy.
Talia did not want to leave, while fully understanding that her father would not accept her staying. There would be consequences. Bane knew it too, and he was more adult, even if Y/N sometimes felt his hand brushing against hers, hesitant to take it.
No doubt he wouldn't have had the will to let go of her if he had given in.
Before agreeing to return to the temple, the young girl called her father, to present an absolutely insincere apology, promising to focus on her training, if in exchange she had the right to stay in contact with Y/N.
Ra's agreed, reluctantly. He knew nothing could stop his child anyway.
"We'll be back soon. I'll call you every day."
"You promise ?"
"Yes !" Talia said solemnly with bright eyes.
"The master agreed for you to come back. He didn't say anything about me."
"You are my protector. You will have to come with me, that's logical."
Translation, her father would have no choice. He had managed to separate them once, he wouldn't have that chance again. And since he was clever, he saw that the compromise was fair.
His daughter would continue to follow her destiny, as the future leader of the League of Shadows, not sticking to Bane when she was with her followers, but she would have the small freedom to see him and be with Y/N when she went in Gotham, from time to time.
All that remained was to define this time.
But since Y/N had waited five years, she was willing to wait a few more months, knowing now that they were fine, and that she could call them if she missed them too much.
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tassodelmiele · 1 month
Text
Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
..................................................
Fourth part here:
..................................................
«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»  
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately. 
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»   
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant» 
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence. 
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad sensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
..................................................
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