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#WHEN I SAY I CARRIED I MEAN NO ONE KNEW ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT THEY PUT ON THEIR SLIDES
nightwriter357 · 3 days
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Smosh Summer Games:ships part 8
Thank you so much for all the support guys. After this one there's 2-3 parts left and I'm so excited for you to read it and hear you opinions on it!! Hope you guys like this one!
Part 8: Why is everybody afraid of love, LOVE.
Waking up next to him still felt bittersweet. This is temporary, you reminded yourself. Soon, you’d be waking up alone again, the warmth of his body just a distant memory.
His grip tightened, almost like he could read your thoughts, pulling you a little closer. You stirred and turned to face him, only to find his eyes already on you, half-lidded but awake, studying you.
“Were you watching me sleep?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked, though there was something softer in his expression. “Caught me,” he said, voice low. “Hard to look away.”
“Smooth.” You smiled, despite yourself. He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours, the kiss soft at first but deepening, almost like he was trying to hold onto every second.
When you finally pulled away, you could feel the weight of the moment between you.
“So... last night really was the last time, huh?” You tried to keep it casual, but your voice wavered slightly.
Damien blinked, his lips parted like he was about to say something, but you cut in before he could respond. “All of this is gonna be over soon,” you said, tracing a finger down his chest, playful but tinged with the uncertainty of what came next.
He sighed, pulling you even closer, his breath warm against your hair. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I just... don’t want to stop.”
You nudged him playfully. “Then don’t, I'll give you a minute longer.”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. “Is that an invitation?”
“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little lighter.
He pulled you back into his arms, the hug lingering a little too long, but neither of you seemed in a hurry to break it. It felt like you both knew that when you did, the illusion would shatter. You thought about asking him if he felt the same way—if this was more than just a fling to him—but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Instead, you settled for breaking the moment with a nudge. “We should probably head up before someone comes looking for us. Can’t have them questioning why we're always sneaking of”
He groaned, reluctantly letting go. “Yeah, I guess. But if they ask, I'm blaming you.”
“Fair,” you laughed, rolling out of bed with a grin. “Come on, let’s go.”
As you both got dressed and headed up to meet the others, you couldn't shake the feeling of his lingering touches or the unspoken words between you. By the time you reached the group, you pushed the thoughts aside, deciding for now to just enjoy his company.
When you arrived, the others were already gathered, except for Courtney and Shayne, who were nowhere to be seen. You caught a few curious glances from the others, but nobody said anything—yet. They seemed far to invested in their own conversation.
Arasha smirked. "I didn't dominate; I was just... exceptionally prepared."
Angela, raising a fork in her hand, chimed in. "If by 'exceptionally prepared' you mean psychic, then sure."
Arasha raised her mug in silent agreement, her face unreadable. "I'm having a ball, though. Doesn't matter who wins."
Spencer feigned disappointment. "A ball? Really?"
Arasha didn't miss a beat. "Sorry didn't meen to appropriate you culture. A ball is plenty, who needs two anyway?"
Spencer blinked, mock-offended. "Hey, you're expelled for that."
As the group joked around, you couldn't shake the thoughts of this morning. Each glance from Damien seemed to carry more weight than the laughter around you. Are you ever going to be able to not be distracted by him?
Angela snickered. "Is that even something a judge can do?"
"It's usually up to management," Trevor added, nodding sagely.
Olivia leaned in, whispering far too loudly, "Management? So, Rhett and Link?"
Trevor furrowed his brows. "It would be Ian and Anthony?"
She lowered her voic  leaning closer. "Oh, right! That explains why he's been hanging around."
Anthony shook his head with a grin. "You literally whispered that TO me."
Damien chuckled beside you, his hand brushing yours under the table, sparking that familiar warmth between you two. You couldn't help but glance his way, that bittersweet feeling creeping back in.
Chanse playfully nudged Arasha. "We have been trapped on this ship for way to long. We need to meet people, dance, have sex."
Your eyes met Damiens as you tried to supress a smile.
Tommy piped up, wiggling his eyebrows. "So... who do we think is the last person here that got laid?"
Angela laughed, setting her cup down with a bang. "Well, Shayne and Courtney are missing... so I guess it's safe to assume it's at least one of them!"
Everyone chuckled, nodding in agreement. 
Tommy glanced around, leaning forward. "Okay, but who's gonna be the next person to have sex?"
Arasha didn't hesitate, locking eyes with you. "Y/n."
You froze, choking on your coffee. Damien, who had just taken a sip of his drink, nearly spit it out. "Uh, no. Not me. Like how would I even do that?"
You felt your cheeks heat as the group exchanged knowing glances. "Seriously, not me," you echoed, feeling the weight of Arasha's smirk from across the table.
"Oh, really?" she asked, her voice as smooth as ever.
For a second, you swore her gaze shifted to Damien, then back to you. But before you could react, the conversation kept going, leaving you and Damien awkwardly glancing at each other.
Arasha's lips curled into a small, mischievous smile. "But if we were stuck here, Angela would you kiss Amanda?
"No way," Angela scoffed.
Arasha smirked. "But what if you're choking and need mouth-to-mouth?"
"And what if you're doing mouth-to-mouth and you need choking?" Tommy added with a wink.
Amanda, unfazed, leaned back in her chair, a mischievous grin on her face. "I would," she quipped, winking at the group.
Angela eyes looked as is they were going to pop out of their sockets, while the rest of the table erupted in laughter, Amanda elbowed her playfully. 
You smiled along still puzzled by the moment that had just passed. It wasn't what Arasha said, though- that definitely lingered, it was the way she said it. Like she knew something you didn't. 
"Well, at least we know Damien wouldn't be hooking up with anyone," Arasha said with a sly grin. "You know how he is—he's gotta actually like the person first."
Your heart jumped at that, stealing a glance at Damien. What does that mean?
Damien didn't look at anyone else but you, his expression softening. "Yeah... I'm not into meaningless things." His voice was quiet but firm, each word carrying a weight that made your breath hitch.
Tommy, oblivious, chuckled. "No random flings, huh?"
Damien's gaze never wavered from yours. "You could say that," he said slowly, his voice carrying weight. The implication hung in the air, and your chest tightened, trying to read between the lines.
The intensity of his words sent your thoughts spiraling. He means me... doesn't he? It was too much to process, the uncertainty, the possibility. You needed space.
"I, uh, need to... get some air," you blurted, standing quickly as you excused yourself from the table.
You barely registered their responses as you walked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had to talk to Courtney. Now. As you left them at the dining table you could hear Angela saying, "but she went downstairs? is she getting air inside?
 You weren't sure if barging into the room to talk about this was a great idea—especially with Shayne there. You had told Courtney about you and Damien hooking up, but this? This was a whole different level of confusion. Still, you couldn't keep it bottled up anymore. Talking about this felt... awkward, but you needed to figure out what was happening. 
You burst into the room, barely giving Courtney and Shayne time to process your frantic energy. They both sat on the bed, chatting before you interrupted.
"I need to talk to you... about Damien," you blurted, breathless.
Courtney raised an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Shayne.
"Oh, so it's finally happening," Shayne said, smirking.
You blinked. "Wait, what? You knew?"
"Of course," he replied, sitting back. "I've known for a while."
You blinked rapidly, confused. "How? I only just told Courtney!"
Shayne glanced between you and Courtney, his smirk turning into confusion. "You told her?"
Courtney stifled a laugh, sensing where this might be heading. Shayne didn't pick up on it.
"I mean, we already told her that," he continued, clearly thinking you were on the same page.
You threw your hands up, bewildered. "Wait, wait... hold on. How could you know? I never talked to you about... Damien and me."
Shayne grinned, still oblivious. "Come on, he told me WAY before he told you."
You stared at Shayne, dumbfounded. "Wait, how could you know before me? That literally makes no sense. What, did Damien give you like... a rundown of all of it before it happened?"
Shayne, still unaware, gave a confused chuckle. "Well, yeah, obviously he told me about it before you."
Your face twisted in disbelief. "BEFORE?! What do you mean 'before'? I'm pretty sure I was there every time. I would have known BEFORE you?!""
Courtney's eyes widened, "Wait everytime? It happned more than once!?"
You blushed, your voice low. “a.. few times.”
Shayne raised an eyebrow, still not catching on. "Uh, can  ithappen more than once?"
You stared at him, completely lost. "What? Yes, what do you mean, ofcourse if can happen more than once? It's not like you guys have only had sex once?" You looked over at Courtney."
Courtney stifled a laugh as Shayne blinked in bewilderment. "Wait, WHAT?! You guys had sex?"
Courtney burst into laughter, clutching her sides. “Oh my god, this is the best thing I’ve ever witnessed!”
"That IS what we are talking about?!" you exclaimed, rubbing your temples.
Shayne ran his hands through his hair, looking utterly flustered. "Wait, that’s what you’ve been talking about this whole time?!  - So your saying he told you that he's inlove with you and then you had sex?!"
"Yes" You froze mid-sentence. "Wait... WHAT? In love with me?! I'm just talking about the fact that we had sex!"
Shayne looked like he was processing way too much at once. "Hold up. So Damien, who has been in love with you for years, finally hooks up with you... and you thought it was a fling?"
You blinked, trying to make sense of everything. "Oh my god. He likes me? Like, actually likes me? I didn't know he was in love with me! I thought it was just... something that happened."
Shayne let out a half-laugh, half-groan, shaking his head. "Oh my god, this whole time... How did you not see it?"
Your eyes widened.  Shayne facepalmed as you started to ramble. "He likes me? Why? How? When? Oh my god—he's liked me this whole time?"
Courtney snorted, wiping away tears from laughing. "This is such a mess."
"I like him too," you muttered, your brain short-circuiting from the revelation. "I... I need to talk to him."
Shayne groaned. "You better, because I need to lie down after this.."
Courtney had a wide smile on her face, "Oh my god, this is going to be so good."
You dart out of the room, practically skidding around the corner as you spot Damien near the door to your cabin. Your breath’s still catching up, but you launch into words anyway.
“Damien!” you pant, rushing over. “We—we get along, right? Really well?
He blinks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know.. we do. What’s up?”
You take a deep breath, trying to slow your racing thoughts. “Okay, good, because I want us to still get along when we get back, even after… you know, everything that’s happened.”
“Uh-huh…” he responds, clearly not following where this is going.
“And now that we know all of that, there’s… also a lot of stuff we don’t know! Or, I mean, stuff you don’t know, or that I know but you don’t know—yet!” You’re practically vibrating with energy.
Damien's eyebrows scrunch together, trying to piece together what you're saying. “Wait, what? I mean, I think we know eachother very well.”
“Yes! Exactly!” You pause, realizing how close you’re getting. “Well, not exactly. I mean, yes, but—wait, no, I mean—ugh, I don’t know how to say it!”
Damien’s brow furrows, his confusion deepening. “Waht are you trying to say?”
 You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. “I mean, I..
Just as you’re about to blurt it all out, Spencer pops up between you two, practically bouncing with excitement. “Hey, lovers! Time for the game!”
You gape at Spencer as he throws his arms around both of you. “Let’s go!” He pulls you both away before you can get another word out. You glance back at Damien, who’s still looking mildly puzzled, but you’re already being whisked away.
Your chance slips away as Spencer drags you off, and all you can think is: Great timing, Spencer. Great timing.
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swaggypsyduck · 1 year
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CALL ME MESSI THE WAY I JUST CARRIED THIS 7 PERSON PRESENTATION
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churipu · 8 months
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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?
being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.
the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.
gojo gets very pissy about it.
frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.
and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.
you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.
gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.
the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.
he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.
GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.
after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.
geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.
he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.
although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.
geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.
he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.
with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.
getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.
he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.
but you were there to prove him wrong.
after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?
you. apparently.
he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.
and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.
letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.
with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.
toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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bunnys-kisses · 9 days
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single father simon (again!!!) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
the apartment building felt bad for simon riley. a military man with a newborn daughter, his lovely little ruby with her tuft of blond hair and big curious dark eyes. she was a spitting image of her father, except compacted into a chubby little girl.
ruby was precious though, which was why as simon's neighbour you made sure the riley's were taken care of. you'd often bring over leftovers, telling simon that it was impossible to cook for one person.
"simon." you said with your hands on your hips, "if anyone tells you that you can make a lasagna for one person is lying or trying to sell you something... which means they're also lying. so take it!" you weren't taking no for an answer!
you even went as far as to donate to him one of your old onsies from when you were a baby (it wasn't like it was doing anything in storage). it was a pastel pink with an embroidered winnie the pooh. when simon saw you holding her after he put it on her, his heart leapt. he wanted to put all of his babies in the clothes you wore when you were a baby.
it wasn't that simon was finding another womb to occupy, but you were simply so good with ruby. when he had to drive out of the city and to base or had to sit on boring online debriefs. you were more than happy to watch ruby. you worked from home at a lackluster office job, you didn't mind having the little girl nearby! she brought a little excitement to the job when you identified objects in your office.
"this is a stapler! you use this to i guess.. staple pages together! s-t-a-p-l-e-r!" then smiled at the girl in the playpen.
the nail in the coffin for simon was when you were watching her for an afternoon and all of a sudden you were feverishly knocking on the door. in your arms was the little girl, she didn't look hurt. but you looked scared.
"i'm so sorry, simon..." you swallowed, "she said her first word. i know it said between ten to fourteen months, but! i didn't think it would be almost right at ten!"
"what did she say?" simon said as he beckoned you inside, a strong arm curled around your shoulders as you carried ruby.
you looked at him with a big frown before you said, "goddamnit... her first word was goddamnit." apparently you were cutting peppers for dinner and nicked your finger. you said the word and she parroted it!
simon knew you were going to be his bride. his missuses, the new mother to his baby girl and the future mother of all the other riley kids.
the electricity between you two aided in your eventual tumbling into bed. simon spread you out on the big queen mattress as let that large cock of his bully the deepest parts of your sex. simon made sure that ruby was safe with another (much older) neighbour so you wouldn't worry. (you were already becoming so much like a mother, it was honestly endearing!!).
simon managed to take you missionary, the mating press and finally ending with doggy style. your sweet moans only made him go harder. he needed to breed his future wife!! did he maybe forget to mention that he wasn't using protection, maybe. there was no evidence that he did or didn't. but when that little piece of plastic came back positive, he was there for you.
he knelt in front of you while you sat on the toilet. his large hand in your hair, "don't be sad, love. you're already a mother to ruby, why not give her a sibling? a little brother to bully." he then took your hands and kissed you on the cheek, "we'll be a family. we could even get married tomorrow if that makes you feel better?"
you'd be married at the courthouse within the week. simon in his military finest and you in a dress that you thrifted only days prior. you had even made you own veil and it turned out well. your bouquet was flowers stolen from the front of city hall. daisies, roses and a few dandelions.
he pulled you in for the kiss, a promise that you two would be together forever. and the two day honeymoon with just the two of you (and technically the baby you carried) was nothing short of romantic. you stayed in the city, but you two played tourist. you both didn't want to be too far away from ruby. after all she was so small.
soon you became the mother of two with a loving husband. ruby and her future brother that was sound asleep in your womb as you laid cuddled up next to simon. maybe his methods were a little unorthodox to bag himself a proper mama for his daughter. but you melted into the role so easily.
"my beautiful wife." he said with his voice tinged with utter devotion. he didn't want another woman to be his daughter's mother! only you, and he had the ring to prove it.
you were the perfect wife to him and the perfect mother to ruby. and you'd only get better with your son on the way. <3
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thevoidstaredback · 6 months
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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.
So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.
Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.
Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.
At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.
Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.
Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.
The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.
The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)
Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!
Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!
"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.
Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."
"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."
"Excuse me?"
"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.
"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."
"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?
"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.
"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."
"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"
Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."
"Excuses."
"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."
"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."
"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."
"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."
"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."
Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.
The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.
Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."
Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."
Storyboard Part 2
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7ndipity · 10 months
Text
Every Little Thing
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.
Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)
Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread
A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?
Masterlist
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As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.
Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.
As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.
“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.
“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.
“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.
“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”
You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?
“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”
Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”
“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”
You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.
Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.
“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.
No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.
“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”
“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.
You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?
Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.
You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.
Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…
Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.
It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.
So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?
You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.
‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.
Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.
‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.
For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.
One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.
“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.
“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.
Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.
“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.
“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.
You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.
It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.
Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.
Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.
“It’s Yoongi.”
You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.
Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.
Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.
“What are you doing here?” You asked.
“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.
“I-, I haven’t-”
“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.
Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.
“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.
He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”
“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”
“You haven’t been-”
“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”
“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.
You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”
“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.
“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”
“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!
“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”
He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.
“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”
You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.
“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.
You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.
“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.
“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”
“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.
“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.
“You wanna try again?” You offered.
He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”
You nodded. “If you want to.”
He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.
“I love you, Y/n.”
He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.
When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.
“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.
“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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rebelspykatie · 4 months
Text
Part 1
Steve kisses him on a Thursday and he takes all the air in the room with him. Eddie doesn’t close his eyes. He’s too shocked to do much of anything, except sit there and let Steve take his face in those big hands and caress a thumb over his cheek while he presses their lips together. Eddie’s pretty sure he doesn’t move at all, glued to his place on the couch, as if time has continued on around him while he’s stuck there.
They’d been passing a joint back and forth, lazily smoking as they watched reruns of some old show that Wayne liked to put on when Eddie was a kid. It’s not soothing now, like it was back then, but is disharmonious in the background, the only sound in the room other than Steve moving against him as Eddie tries to figure out what’s going on.
When Steve finally pulls back, Eddie still doesn’t feel like he’s breathing. He’s able to take in Steve’s expression before his eyes pop open, the pucker of his lips, the shine to them that could possibly be from Eddie’s mouth. He doesn’t know why he didn’t push Steve away, why he didn’t intervene, but instead let Steve have this moment. All while he sat frozen.
The expression shifts once Steve’s eyes open, turning unbearably soft. His smile is sweet and gentle. He’s probably mellowed out from the weed, but his eyes are focused on Eddie. It’s not an expression Eddie’s used to seeing. It’s close to the one he gives the kids when they’re not paying attention, but not quite the same. Steve’s eyes are raking over his face, like he’s trying to memorize the dips and grooves of Eddie’s. He squirms under the scrutiny. 
“Sorry,” Steve finally says, shaking his head a bit, “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” 
He’s turned bashful now. Another expression Eddie’s not used to seeing. His Steve is a sarcastic little shit. He argues with the kids, pulls Robin into wrestling matches that he always wins until Robin starts biting, and carries a nailed up baseball bat in his trunk. Nothing about his Steve is bashful. Except, apparently it is. And something turns in Eddie’s gut. 
He’s made some fatal mistake. Took a wrong turn somewhere and now the car is crashing out of control and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He put that expression on Steve’s face and he doesn’t know how to take it back. 
“Uh-how long?” Eddie asks. He’s not sure why that’s what he says. Morbid curiosity, maybe. But now he’s desperate to know. 
Steve’s jaw shifts, contemplating. “Not sure I had it figured it out then, but probably since you held that bottle to my throat.” 
That seems preposterous. Completely illogical. They barely even knew each other back then outside of the passing monikers slapped on them from their respective cliques in high school. There’s no way that Steve’s wanted to kiss him for that long. 
“Took me a while to pick up on the clues,” Steve laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never had to interpret what it means coming from a guy, so I think I deserve a pass on not getting it for so long.” 
He’s smiling at Eddie again. Not quite as bashful, more teasing, like he’s anticipating Eddie teasing back. But Eddie is still stuck on the kiss. His brain hasn’t caught up to the words coming out of Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t know what clues Steve even means. 
“I’m not sure what to say, Steve,” he hesitantly says when the silence has gone on a beat too long. 
“You don’t have to say anything. We could put our mouths to better use, though,” Steve says, leaning in with a devious glint in his eyes that Eddie’s only seen in passing, in the halls of Hawkins High when he tried to ignore Steve pressing Nancy into her locker and kissing the daylights out of her where anyone could see. 
Eddie finally snaps out of his haze and puts a hand on Steve’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. It’s the first time he’s made any move to stop this from barreling out of control. 
“Steve,” Eddie’s voice sounds strained to his own ears, “wait.” 
“Sorry, was that too fast?” Steve scoots back on the couch, putting some distance between them, but not backing entirely out of Eddie’s space. “I should’ve asked if that was okay, shit.” Worry creases his forehead.
“I-” Eddie takes a steadying breath, “I don’t understand why you did it at all.” 
“Why I kissed you?” Steve tilts his head to the side, that curious golden retriever look. “Because I like you.” His brows furrow. “I thought that was obvious.” 
“But you like girls.” It comes out more a statement, than a question. And it makes Steve look even more perplexed, the smile dipping, becoming more muted. “I saw you with Nancy, you weren’t faking that. Unless you have, like, Oscar worthy acting skills, but I don’t think you’re capable of that.” 
“I do like girls, but I also like guys.” Steve shrugs, says it so casually like he has the whole world figured out and he’s unbothered by how insane that tidbit is to just drop on your unsuspecting friend, even after you kiss them. “Robin helped me figure it out. It’s called being bisexual.”
“Yeah, I know what it’s called, Steve.” Eddie huffs, frustrated with the direction of this conversation. They’re clearly not on the same page here and he’s not sure if he should just spit it out. 
“Then what’s the problem?” Steve shrinks back into the couch, tension creeping into his shoulders.
“That you think I’d want to kiss you.” Maybe it’s better to just lay it all out on the table. Set the record straight here. Eddie’s beating around the bush too much. 
“Y-you don’t want to kiss me? But you’ve been flirting with me for months.” 
“I flirt with everyone, it doesn’t mean anything.” 
“Oh.” 
And Eddie watches how quickly the light disappears from Steve’s face. How quickly the smile fades and turns into a twisted frown. Steve pinches his nose and stands up. “I guess we were both wrong, then.”
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ddarker-dreams · 3 months
Text
What Remains Unspoken.
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Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan
Warnings: Yandere themes & unhealthy relationships. Word count: 2.2k.
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If there’s anywhere Feitan looks out of his element, it’s in the sun. 
The celestial object serves as his antitheses — warm, bright, and inviting. Given his pallid countenance, he must agree. On the rare occasions you can go outside, he keeps to the shadows, whose darkness could never match the depravity festering inside his rotten soul. You believe night itself would flee from him if it knew a fraction of his crimes. 
When you first saw him enter direct sunlight, a certain superstition overtook you, triumphing over reason. You observed with tentative expectation, waiting for something to happen, whatever that something may be. For his skin to break out into blisters, flesh to sizzle, and howls of agony to dominate the air as he disintegrated into a pile of ash; in short, a demise befitting a monster like himself. Regrettably, this didn’t happen. Disappointment weighed heavy on your chest when he went on his merry way. 
Presently, he stands hidden amidst a cluster of trees, acting every bit the fairytale ghoul your overactive imagination wished him to be. Through the branches' interstices, light speckles his dark outerwear. It’s a hot, balmy day, though evening’s arrival soothes the worst of the heat. 
Unlike him, you’re dressed for the weather. This morning, upon leaving your shower, you found the comfortable clothes you picked out beforehand ‘mysteriously’ replaced. A short, light blue dress featuring a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps laid there instead. That wasn’t all. Jewelry, heels, and other various accessories were tossed haphazardly alongside it, like you’d been undecided on what to wear before a first date. Except you hadn’t been the one to get everything out. Feitan was. Prior to that, he never took any interest in what you wore. 
No, that attribute belongs to another, whose memory fills you with sickening dread. 
You sit at a wooden picnic table, examining the park’s abundant foliage. There’s little else for you to do. Feitan’s yet to give any indication as to why you’re here. Typically, his modus operandi consists of stashing you far away from the public’s purview. From time to time, you’ll travel elsewhere, always using methods that limit your potential interactions with others. This part of the park may be less populated, but hikers and families can still stroll by. You take care not to draw attention to yourself when they do. 
Sighing, you stand, fully aware of the eyes monitoring you in the distance. Unsure of what else to do, you approach the last place you spotted Feitan. He says nothing as you approach. You hug yourself, almost regretting your decision to seek him out. By giving you no parameters to work with, you’re left constantly second-guessing yourself, fearing that you’ve broken some unspoken rule. Standing by his side feels like a safer bet than risking a stranger coming over to strike up a conversation. 
“Bored?” Feitan asks. 
You freeze, thinking over your next words with care. If he believes this little outing is a ‘privilege’, you doubt he’d appreciate you maligning it. Then again, he’s suggested creative punishments for your tongue whenever it’s formed a lie. Considering this, you decide it’s best to redirect the conversation. 
“I’m just wondering if there’s anything I should be doing,” you say. When he raises a thin eyebrow, you hastily add, “Sorry, I mean—” 
He flicks your forehead, silencing you. 
“So nervous,” he croons. “Like little rabbit.” 
Irritation bubbles up inside your chest, like a geyser ready to erupt. You want to scoff, as king why he thinks that is, but the provocation goes unchallenged. He isn’t wrong, per se. Every snap of a twig or distant conversation the wind carries instills unease. Endless grisly possibilities swarm your mind. All it could take is a greeting, wave, hell, even a look for Feitan to decide that person’s committed the ultimate transgression. 
Suddenly, this preoccupation flees your mind.
Shivers erupt all over your body. Your breathing halts, as do all other forms of movement. The five senses that categorize and make sense of the world recede, like the shoreline moments before a tsunami. What remains eclipses common sense. It’s this unprovable premonition, a whisper amidst the universe’s chaotic chorus few can ever hear. No tangible stimuli support this phenomenon. You’d believe yourself temporarily mad, if not for one damning detail. 
You’ve felt this before. 
The time you’d been found after your first (and only) escape. 
After a well-meaning Hunter pried you from the shackles of captivity, for less than a minute. 
Then, at the height of your hubris, when you yelled that your first love would be your last. 
The intensity honed to a fine point. It pierced through you like a gunshot, so visceral that you’d check yourself for signs of the wound. You never found anything. You think it was how your brain wanted to make sense of the unknown, mistaking the force of concentrated emotion for a flesh wound. This extremity wasn’t kind, but it wasn’t malevolent either; it was oppressive. Heavy, carnal. A starved beast prowling toward cornered prey. 
When you’d been subjected to this, the subjugator always spoke some variation of— 
“—Apologies. My control waned there, for a moment… but can you blame me?” 
Someone’s touching you. Someone’s cupping your face in their hands, devouring each detail of your being, and Feitan’s letting them. You stumble back, only to be caught. The hands holding you in place are larger than Feitan’s. Warmer too, a little less calloused, though no less stained in oceans of blood. If Feitan’s eyes are knife-like, trying to stab through your skull for any hint at your inner thoughts, then these eyes are calm. Calculating in a way that makes you feel small. 
“You’re lovelier than I remember,” the man murmurs. A breeze passes through, displacing your hair, which he tucks back into place. His lips twitch upward, indicating amusement. “What? Did you believe you’d ridden yourself of me?” 
Despite your reverie, you shake your head. The man before you — Chrollo Lucilfer — smiles. It’s deceptively soft. Had you not known him better, you’d think the fondness he currently regards you with as warm; the gentle flames of a hearth. There are tells that reveal another story. His grip varies in strength as he’s reminded of how delicate you are, indicating a lack of his usual ‘mindfulness.’ You both know he’s putting on a front of normalcy, yet the charade is rarely this lackluster. He descended upon you faster than the human eye could comprehend. There’d been no casual stride, just an impulse to have you as immediately as physics would allow. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks slightly flushed, like you were a substance to get drunk off of. 
The embrace he pulls you into is tight enough to make you squeak. 
You expect him to rile you up, whispering teasing words into your ear, yet he’s silent. Unusually so. He buries his face into the crook of your exposed neck, breathing you in, holding you close. Any pretense of cordiality is dropped as he acts like the greedy man he truly is. This neediness is reminiscent of a child reunited with their lost, favorite toy. 
The unsettling intimacy doesn’t last for long. 
Chrollo releases you from his grasp. The relief is fleeting, as you’re acutely aware of Feitan’s presence. He’s stationed not far behind you, watching the scene in silence. The sadistic man’s capacity to share fully eluded your understanding. From what you can remember, Chrollo’s more willing to discuss their past, but solely on his terms. He’s never explained why Feitan is the way he is, or how he views you. 
“He’s fond of you, in his own way,” is the most you got out of Chrollo, during a late-night talk. “He’s just shy.” 
“It’s good to see you again, Fei,” Chrollo greets. 
Feitan nods — his way of returning the sentiment, you reckon. In Chrollo’s absence, you’ve learned to interpret his behavior to minimize friction. The deference he has for Chrollo is subtle yet undeniable. Others might misinterpret Feitan’s silence as indifference, but you know better. In Chrollo’s presence, he straightens his posture, giving him rapt attention. He follows any order given by his boss. 
Especially those regarding you. 
Ever since that fateful September, Feitan went from a background character in your life to the lead role. He didn’t reveal much, just that you wouldn’t see ‘the boss’ anytime soon, as he needed to ‘fix things.’ York New was a sore subject that you rarely broached. Nearly ten months have passed since you’ve last seen Chrollo. Physically, he’s the same. There are bandages wrapped around his forehead, covering his forehead tattoo. He’s wearing his teal earrings, dark jeans, and a gray v-neck. 
Seeing him now, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. 
Almost. 
“Lost in thought, love?” Chrollo wonders. 
Blinking rapidly, you realize they’re both staring at you, awaiting an answer. 
“You’re… you’re back,” is your genius observation.
“I am.” 
“You were… um… gone,” you fiddle with your fingers, “For a long time.” 
“I was,” he agrees with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You see dark circles forming beneath them. “This entire affair has proven itself tedious. No matter. In a few short days, it’ll all be over.” 
“There’s more to take care of?” 
He hums, the sound low and somehow eerie. “You could put it that way. Originally, I was going to wait until after I evened one last score to see you, but impatience got the best of me.” 
“Ah,” you shift your weight from foot to foot. “That explains it, then.” 
“Explains what, dear?” 
“You seem, I don’t know… off? Creepy to the second power? Cubed?” 
Chrollo gives you a blank stare. Feitan’s hissing something about how you ‘talk too much,’ his displeasure evident. It dawns on you then that you haven’t interacted with Chrollo in so long, it’s possible his tolerance for your nonsense isn’t what it once was. Especially considering the state he’s in now. Regret churns your insides as silence fills the air, thickening it like smoke. You think to apologize, only to recall their dislike for insincerity. Feitan never wanted apologies, whereas Chrollo accepted them if proven genuine through a rigorous process. 
You wince at the sound Chrollo muffles behind his hand. 
Then, much to your disbelief, it evolves into a chuckle. 
His shoulders tremble as his eyes turn crescent-shaped, gleaming with mirth. He shakes his head and clears his throat. After a few seconds, he regains control of himself, though his posture is less rigid. This visage aligns better with your memories of him. He liked pretending he was ordinary — almost as much as you liked pretending to believe him. 
Feitan clicks his tongue. “This girl… always says. Never thinks.” 
“You must admit, it’s a cute habit,” Chrollo says.
To this, Feitan mutters a phrase in his native language, turning his gaze away from you. 
You cross your arms over your chest. They both had an irritating tendency to talk about you like you weren’t present, a pet peeve you hadn’t had to deal with in a while. The candidness they displayed made you wonder what they spoke about when you weren’t around. A pandora’s box best left unopened, surely. 
Chrollo pries one of your hands free to hold in his own. “Words cannot convey how much I missed you."
He follows this admission up by kissing the back of your hand.
“... I can’t stick around much longer, I’m afraid,” he murmurs. “Bear with me a while longer.” 
Another chaste kiss. After allowing his lips to linger on your skin a while longer, he relinquishes his grip, tucking his hands into his pockets to deter him from further indulgence. 
Unexpectedly, it’s Feitan who shifts the topic. 
“Boss,” he speaks, now lurking by your side. “She watch the fight?” 
Furrowing your eyebrows, you glance between them, thrown off by the cryptic language. Truthfully, you don’t want to know about whatever it is Chrollo has to do. From what you can glean, it’s likely to involve people getting hurt or dying. You’ve learned the best way to keep your conscience clean is to remain ignorant. If you press on certain issues, Feitan will gleefully overshare gritty details you could’ve gone without. 
His response is swift and firm. “No, not this one.” 
“... That bad?” Feitan asks. When all Chrollo does is smile, he adds, “Heh. Poor clown.” 
Chrollo’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Upon reading the caller’s name, he steps away. “Keep an eye on her for me a while longer, Fei.” 
The aforementioned man grunts. 
Chrollo spares you a long, final look. 
His lips part, as if he intends to say something, before they shut. Inquisitive, you tilt your head, not used to him hesitating. He’s always projected this self-assured image — untouchable, near omnipotent. Flaws don’t suit him. There's this invisible screen that separates you from men like him and Feitan. Their access to abilities beyond comprehension elevates them, setting them apart..
You prefer it that way. Categorizing them as 'others' is easier than reconciling the fact their more human than infernal.
Eventually, he gives you an unusually reserved smile. 
"After everything's over, I'll find you."
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senseofnewness · 2 months
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What do you think dating Stanford!art is like?
stanford!art being your college boyfriend [NSFW]
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• you met during orientation week, despite having different majors, you and art were placed in the same group of fifteen people, all wearing matching blue 'stanford' t-shirts, everyone was quiet and shy at first, but with each building visited, the atmosphere grew more comfortable
• during the campus tour, you muttered a few sarcastic comments under your breath, causing him to chuckle more than once, amused by your wit, he gravitated towards you and introduced himself, walking by your side for the rest of the tour
• afterwards, each time you met him in the corridors, you would nod and greet each other with a playful "sup, blue" referencing your orientation group, he always responded with a huge grin, and it was then you began to notice just how cute he looked, you thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t like all of those stupid jocks, or maybe he was, you had barely exchanged two words but getting to know him could be worth it
• one day, during lunch, you found yourself standing behind him in line at the cafeteria and greeted him as you filled your tray with food, after a quick, casual chat about how school was going, he invited you to join him and his friends at his table, "sure" you answered with a shrug, thinking you were going to eat alone anyway, so why not join the hot boy from the tennis club?
• at the table, he introduced you as his friend, even though you would consider him barely an acquaintance, just a familiar face you were always pleased to see, you quickly got along with everyone, your talkative nature taking over, from time to time, you felt art's eyes on you, an amused smile lingering on his lips as he sat across from you
• he had mentioned having a match the following day and invited you to come along, you barely knew anything about tennis, but you thought this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about him, as tennis seemed to be such an important part of his life, so you accepted his invitation and promised to be there to cheer him on
• the match took place at 2pm the next day and your neck was starting to ache from following the ball as it flew from one side of the court to the other, art returned every volley with precision, steadily gaining the upper hand over his opponent, you knew nothing about the rules of tennis, but the cheers from the audience were enough to assure you that art was winning the match
• art had humiliated his opponent, the score so one-sided it was almost absurd, you skipped down the bleachers to join him on the court, "well played, blue!" you called out, your voice carrying over the distance, he waved at you, a smug look on his face, "thanks" he said, "you should stick around, we’re having a little celebratory get-together”
• once at the party, it didn’t take long for the yapper in you to find a group of people to overshare with, but art remained by your side, filling your glass every time it came close to being empty, there was something truly endearing about the way he noticed when you were about to finish your drink, always making sure you never got thirsty, on the other hand, you couldn't help but wonder if it was wise to trust a stranger with your drink
• now it was just the two of you, you were tipsy and art was discussing the earlier match in detail, although you had no particular interest in talking about tennis at the moment, or ever, art made it captivating, you hung on every word, your eyes fixed on his lips, "what do you think?" he asked, pulling you out of your reverie, "what?" you blurted out, "seems like you're really into tennis" he teased, "what can I say? i love balls", both of you chuckled, "you kinda remind me of my friend patrick", what did that mean? his friend? you had no desire to be just his friend, you needed to make your intentions clear, "why? does he love your balls too?"
• "dance with me” you said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, "i can't dance" he protested, though he followed you willingly, like a docile boy, "come on, it's not rocket science, just put your hands on me and move", his hands settled on your hips as you swayed your body against his to the music, the space between you diminished as he leaned in, his eyes locking with yours, you tilted your head slightly and he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss, first gentle, then more passionate as tongues met, tangling, you could taste the alcohol in his saliva
• the rest of the night passed in a blur, with you and art making out in every corner of the place, each time someone approached, you would shift to a new spot, not out of embarrassment but to avoid being interrupted by chatter, all you wanted was to keep your lips pressed against his, to feel the thrill of his touch, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him, there was something irresistibly addictive about the sensation of his soft blond curls slipping through your fingers, soon, it became harder to breathe, and you found yourself craving more of him with an intense, almost desperate hunger
• you were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around Art’s hips as he stood before you, the heat between your core and his growing more intense by the second, you felt an urgent need for him, “we should go to sleep” you suggested, lying in hopes that he would catch your hint, “i should walk you to your dorm” he murmured against your lips, reluctantly pulling away, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”
• the walk back to your place was a mix of light-hearted chatter and giggles, as you reached your door, you lingered there, biting your lower lip in anticipation while fiddling with your keys, “want to watch a movie?” you asked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “sure” he replied, his eyes bright with desire as he followed you inside after you unlocked the door
• the first movie played, then the next, and the one after that, but you barely registered what was on the screen, you were way too focused on him, comfortably wrapped in his embrace and between kisses and sharing stories about your lives, you learned about Art’s years at the tennis academy in Florida, his best friend Patrick, and his beloved grandmother, but you also became intimately familiar with his body, you weren’t sure who made the first move, perhaps it was you, but your hand now caressed his length, while his fingers teased your clit, both of you moaning softly, lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch
• after minutes of intense overstimulation, both of you were exhausted, breathing heavily, “shit, i should go” art muttered, quickly standing up, “the coach is going to get my ass if i'm late to morning practice”, you pouted in disappointment as he adjusted his semi-hard cock back into his pants while you wiped his cum off your hand onto your shirt, “give me your phone” you said, extending your now-cleaned hand, he passed it over and you began typing in your number, “text me when you’re back at your dorm” you instructed, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty boy like you”, his smile widened at your teasing remark echoing his earlier words
• you had fallen asleep after his departure and the first thing you noticed when you woke up was his ‘morning, blue’ text, the fact that he had thought about you first thing after training brought a smile to your face, throughout the day, you exchanged texts about nothing and everything all at once, later that day, you joined him after classes, eager to see him in person, nothing was better than being face-to-face and lips-to-lips
• in the days that followed, sneaking into each other’s dorms after authorized hours became a thrilling game, dodging the resident assistants’ watchful eyes, you’d slip into each other’s beds, where you mostly got off by dry humping, though you were ready for more but art wanted to take things slow, wanting to show you it was more than just sex, and while you thought his intentions were sweet, you secretly wished he would stop respecting you so much and just stretch you out with his pretty cock
• it took just a few more days before art was balls deep inside you, his resolve crumbled when you sat on top of him and rubbed yourself against his bulge, in a swift motion, he flipped you over and undressed you, rolling on a condom before thrusting himself inside, he fucked you like no one ever had, releasing all the built-up tension, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his asscheeks, and your moans were muffled by his mouth on yours, he had made you come more than once that night
• art was also the first guy to venture his tongue between your legs, apart from a boyfriend or two, you weren't that experienced, and no one had ever shown interest in pleasuring you that way, so when art ate you out for the first time, it was a revelation, you doubted you could ever go back to anything else but oral sex, while art was certainly a good fuck, his dick was far less skilled than his tongue, he attentively sucked on your swollen clit, turning you into a moaning mess, and all you had to do was lie there and watch him work, his face glistening with your juices, you loved being helpless under his care
• you only realized how much you cared about him when you saw him interacting with another girl in the cafeteria, tashi duncan, you recognized her from the posters, she was leaning over the table, chatting with him, and he was smiling back at her, the sight ignited a wave of jealousy in you and you moved closer to the table as she walked away, “who was she?” you asked, sitting down beside him, he looked at you before responding that she was a friend of his, “she’s cute” you added, a hint of bitterness lacing your voice, “didn’t notice” he replied, though you could tell he was lying, “sure” you said, rolling your eyes, only an idiot would miss tashi’s charms, but it’s not like you could act possessive and call him out on his bullshit, after all, you didn’t own him, you weren’t his girlfriend
• you were studying in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed, when he finally spoke the words you had been waiting to hear, “you know i like you a lot” he confessed, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that revealed his nervousness, you could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying his emotions, “i do too” you replied, meeting his gaze with a smile, then, with a hopeful tone, he asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend?” you grinned, your heart swelling with happiness, “wait, i wasn’t already?” you teased, pretending to be shocked, “shit, i need to cancel the wedding!” with a laugh, you nodded your head and cupped his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips
• making it official had made everything more concrete, taking things to a more intense level, sure, you were already spending every night fucking each other’s brains out, but now condoms were a thing of the past, fucking you raw had made a monster out of art, he reveled in every opportunity to fill you with his cum, enjoying the sight of his warm load dripping out of you down your thighs, in the past, he had come covered your body with his semen, ass, face, tits, multiple times, but now that seemed wasteful, only your tight little cunt was worthy of welcoming him, and he made sure to take full advantage of it
• you became his biggest cheerleader, attending every match, proudly wearing t-shirts with his face and name on, the whole campus knew you as art donaldson’s girlfriend, and while you liked the attention, you couldn’t ignore the whispers, you secretly wished people would acknowledge you for your own accomplishments, rather than just being the tennis prodigy’s ‘pathetic little puppy who follows him around’
• while he had mostly called you ‘blue’ in the past, you now held the cherished title of ‘baby’ and being his baby came with certain privileges : his wardrobe had become yours, you had lost count of how many times you had stolen one of his shirts or caps, also he now walked you to your classes every day, hand in hand, always insisting on carrying your backpack, sometimes, you shared such long kisses in front of the classroom door that he ended up being late to his own class, everyone passing by shooting you side-eye glances, but you both are too wrapped up in each other to even care
• kissing wasn’t the only thing you did in public, you took great pleasure in giving art random boners, turning it into a game, a game that boosted your self-esteem like no other, you loved watching him struggle and blush as he tried to discreetly adjust his growing length in his pants, all it took was sitting on his lap and subtly rubbing your ass against him, pressing your breasts against his chest during hugs, playing with his hair, wearing shirts with no bra on, or simply licking your lip, okay, you had to admit, art was also the type of boy who got horny at the mere sight of you breathing
• a few weeks later, you finally met patrick, along with his girlfriend, tashi duncan, you had never approached her before, she was too intimidating for that, patrick, on the other hand, was as friendly as can be, filling every moment with questions and jokes, never allowing a second of silence to settle between you, you could see why art thought you were similar, both unable to shut up, with patrick around, you discovered a new side of art, a playful, childlike side, so while the two of them got caught up in their reckless antics, you found yourself stuck with tashi, gradually getting to know her and even ending up befriending her
• sometimes, after a long practice, art is too tired to join you in your room for the night, on those days, you make sure to convince him that you’re worth the exhaustion, like that time you sent him a picture of yourself wearing nothing but the blue shirt from orientation week, your nipples pressed hard against the fabric and your lacy panties sheer enough to reveal your hairless cunt, he was at your door in five minutes, his sore muscles an afterthought
• you two are like animals, fucking in every room and every position possible, gone was the shy, respectful art from orientation week who touched you with such a gentle care, he now grabbed you by the hair as he aggressively shoved his throbbing cock in you any time he felt like it, calling you like ‘his little whore’ while painting your walls with his thick cum, your sessions had become a contest of who could outmoan the other, often interrupted by banging on the walls and people yelling from the other side of the door
• it had only been two months of dating when he finally said "i love you", you were acting silly, making him laugh, when he blurted it out, taken aback, you felt a rush of emotions, you had wanted to say it for days but had not dared, when you had discussed it with your friends, they all agreed it was way too early for that, “i love you too” you eagerly whispered, pulling him into a deep kiss
• for your birthday, he had given you a silver necklace adorned with your birthstone, it was so beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he had chosen such a thoughtful gift, you only had been dating for a few months after all, you wore it every day, never taking it off except for showers, you loved how it hung perfectly between your breasts and how it bounced against your hard nipples while you rode art's hard cock
• “i want three kids” he said after fucking you, his hands wandering over your stomach, stroking it gently, “three?” you gasped in shock, “come on, let’s have one and then we’ll see” you tried to reason with him, but that only sparked new ideas in his head, “should we?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement, you knew he wanted children, it was obvious from all that dirty talk about filling you up and making him a daddy but you didn’t think he was that serious about it, “art, we’re 19” you reminded him and he shrugged nonchalantly in response, “so, am I just destined to be your little tennis wife? popping your babies out one after the other while you become a superstar?” you teased, though a part of you was serious, you had plans for your future, and while children were part of it, there were still so many things you wanted to experience and accomplish first, sure, you loved him, but you weren’t ready to be overshadowed by a man or to become just an extension of him
• for christmas, art visited his grandmother at her nursing home, and you insisted on coming along, bringing a batch of home-baked treats for her, when you finally met her, it was clear where art had inherited his sweet nature, watching him shower her with care and affection made you imagine a near future where you could give him the children he desired so much, ultimately your mother would forgive you for being a teen mom once she would hold your first child, right?
• his grandmother had come to adore you, and soon it was you insisting on visiting her, one day, she proudly showed you her ring, a cherished gift from her late husband, and promised that one day it would be on your finger, thoughts of weddings began to swirl in your mind and you found yourself wondering if being just an athlete’s wife might not be such a terrible fate after all
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calisources · 7 months
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𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.
I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.
You're still looking.
You make it hard to look away.
I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.
If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.
How long are you going to make me wait?
How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.
You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.
You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?
We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?
They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?
You're too soft.
Can we go back to making out now?
You sound jealous.
Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.
If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.
Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?
And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?
You're wet, aren't you?
You drove me mad.
She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.
I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.
I'm all yours to look at, you know.
You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.
Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.
. . .I hate you.
Say it again.
Grind it. Nice and fine.
I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.
Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.
Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?
Is that a challenge, Feyre?
Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?
Move with me now.
Touch me anywhere you please.
I want you to make love to me.
Do you know what that truly means?
You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?
I want you inside me.
You have three minutes to get ready now.
I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.
What was I doing in your dreams?
Someone is watching us through the window.
All the more reason to put on a good show.
You're not in a position to make demands.
The best things are found in the most secret places.
And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.
When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.
You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?
I thought you were all about self-control.
I remember how powerful those thighs are.
You are more beautiful than I imagined.
And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.
I'm naked underneath.
Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?
I want to take you under the moonlight.
Please, don’t stop.
Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?
I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.
I’ve never been with a man before.
You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.
And you, Miss, are no lady.
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avocado-writing · 2 months
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i'm not a very big chain person, but in my head i can picture so perfectly Logan getting him and his s/o a matching pair of chain necklaces or bracelets to quietly express his love and commitment. because, in comparison to other forms of jewelry, chains are durable- it's hard for a quality chain to break. to him, they signify how the bond you've fostered together is unbreakable too.
if he manages to get them in adamantium, there's the added layer of gifting you something made of the same material as his skeleton. his way of gifting you a part of him, of always being with you... ;-;
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He used to wake up to a pounding skull and a truly bitter hatred of the world. A constant stream of alcohol had managed to silence the first issue - or, at least, make it tomorrow Logan’s problem - but had just made the second one far worse. 
He knew he was a mean drunk. Wade never shied away from letting him know what a cunt he was when he was ten drinks deep, but it was easier to face life when he stopped trying to be gracious to it.
The world had never cared about him, so why should he care about it right back?
That was… before, though. Before you. Not exactly some sort of holy light but you’d been damn well close. Someone he’d wanted to get his act together for, try to break free from the cocoon of rot and misery he’d made for himself. 
So, nowadays, he wakes up to soft singing and the smell of frying eggs. 
You’re an earlier riser than he is, slipping out of his grasp somehow - he always tries to grab you and keep you in bed with him, despite your dramatic but insincere protests - and getting a start on your day to make the most of it. You’re so much more of a functional person than he is that it’s laughable (Wade has pointed this out a couple of times, while laughing, and you’d talked him down from giving the merc a claw through the eye). 
He drags himself to his feet and heads into the kitchen. 
The radio is on quietly and you’re half-humming along with it, trying not to be too loud so as not to wake him. You can’t help but sing and secretly it’s one of those little things he fucking loves about you. It’s how he can tell you’re happy, so he never wants you to stop. 
You hear him appear and turn with a smile so bright it outdoes the morning sun. Ahh fuck, and you look amazing. Those short pyjamas that highlight the curve of your ass, those stupid fuzzy slippers you constantly leave around the apartment for him to trip over…
… and there, around your neck and resting on your clavicle, the chain. 
He’d never been good at gifts, but he knew he wanted a way to match you. Something to look at in his own reflection to remember you’re waiting for him at home; a part of him to carry with you so you know he’ll always keep you safe. Your eyes had lit up when you’d opened the jewellery case he’d handed over, neatly wrapped by the store, and then welled with tears when he’d shown you his own one. With blunt, uncareful fingers he’d fastened the clasp at the back of your neck, breathing in the comforting smell of you when you’d wrapped your arms around him. 
“I’m so lucky to have you, Logan.”
He’s more lucky to have you. You shine in the sun and so does every adamantium link. A fucking beacon in this world for him. A lighthouse. Bringing him home. 
“Hey, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?” you ask, turning the music off now he has your full attention. He considers this and smirks. 
“Mmm, if I say yeah, do you have to find a way to apologise?”
You grin at the huskiness of his early morning voice and the promise of what’s next, turning off the heat on the pan before inevitably forgetting and burning the eggs. As you step into his arms he knows what the rest of the morning will entail: he’ll take you back to bed and show you how much you mean to him, three or four times if he can coax it out of you, then you’ll head to the diner across the street to eat because you’ll be too boneless to do much of anything else. 
Sounds pretty fucking perfect to him. His mind flashes to the ring he has in its little box, the one he bought at the same time as the chains and keeps stuffed in one of his jacket pockets, and is sure one day soon he’ll have the courage to give that to you too. 
Taglist: @mildly-salted @belilwen @malfoys-demigod @falsewordz @tvwebs @getmeoutofhell @rush-the-stars @s1eep-o @yrthr @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @childeslegstrap
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esoteriamaya · 2 months
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Astro Notes : Short N' Sweet - Saturn's Theme
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Saturn in the 1st - Emotional creatures, you just don't know it. Definitely isn't visible to the eye, they wear it well. They can handle themselves better than most. This is not only a compliment, but it also shows how they can be emotional stable even if they don't feel that way. Saturn here makes you grounded in the physical reality more. So you tend to get back on your feet quicker than most.
Saturn in the 2nd - Financial struggles at an earlier age has prompted them to force themselves into roles where getting to the bag is the higher goal. I mean, its a must. You gotta have it all, and they know how to get it. They're pretty practical here, and most can handle their advice when it comes to material needs and finances. They won't go crazy on the spending, but they'll at least make sure their needs are met.
Saturn in the 3rd - Prompt speakers. Intelligent leaders. Shapeshifters with their words. Charismatic thinkers that can charm you with their smile. Their needs are met when they have someone important to them that listens. When they're screaming inside, someone who just knows them well and can feel it without them saying anything is what they want. They are emotional readers, can sense danger ahead or when a problem is going to start.. Very majestic flow and auras. Problem solvers!
Saturn in the 4th - Soft spoken individuals who crave attention that isn't just when they're committing to labor. Not your mommy and daddy, so don't bring all your issues to them. Can be sweet and loving to people who are kind to them. They could turn this off quickly depending on who you are. Super swift, and can create a foundation like no other. After seeing what they were living with they know what is right for them and are committed to receiving it.
Saturn in the 5th - Teachers of the art. Self mastery at they're passions and hobbies comes at a price, but a great one at that. Can be an intellectual or an artistic. No matter what, its always a great time with them. Magical authors. Creative thinkers. Special characters they are. Life is art, & so they make it sweet.
Saturn in the 6th - Figures of authority. People who can manage a room. Natural leaders. People tend to make you the lead even if you don't like it. Can have a tendency to do more than what they need but this comes from a place of always over extending themselves to people. There is a time and place for all of it, this group has to allow themselves to be on the receiving end. Balance is key!
Saturn in the 7th - Captain save a ho's. Lol. Jokes. ;) But seriously, you see a damsel in the distress and you might try and change em. You can also be a great lover, that isn't up to debate. Very old school & traditional. Can be the life of the party. Needs somebody who keeps the momentum going. Can be alienated by authorative figures a lot, its because you're one of them, you just don't see it yet.
Saturn in the 8th - At a young age they knew they we're meant for something. Something that would shake the world. Secrets of the unknown tend to carry them to a long journey. A journey that leads them to their final destination. The path less spoken for, but the bravest tend to move mountains here. <3
Saturn in the 9th - Excellent learners. Yearn for something deeper. Could move into religion or stick to something that speaks to them and helps them grow in this lifetime. They are committed to whatever fits their beliefs, and they sit with them and mature into them gracefully.
Saturn in the 10th - The masters of what they came to achieve. They believed they could be more and so it was. A dream to be a prominent somebody, its a gift & a curse is it not? Spellbounding auras, and a respectable presence nonetheless.
Saturn in the 11th - Could only have 1 or 2 friends that mean the world to them. They're big on achieving goals not having a bunch of friends. Can be very standoffish but theres some history behind it. When they want to be, they can be very sweet and nurturing. Can bring acts of service to a group of people if its time to.
Saturn in the 12th - Creative thinkers. Beyond this realm. Have difficulties with aligning with sources that don't match their integrity. Can bring people to their knees with just their mind power. The truth is, they must choose wisely with what they ask for because saturn here blesses them with it. Be careful what you wish for ;) Its a commitment that changes things.
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dixonsbrat · 2 months
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𖥔 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔
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summary ; eddie finally admits that he can't get you, his best friend, out of his head.
notes ; potential cussing, mentions of weed and the reader having hair. let me know if i forgot anything !
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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it was midnight on a friday, now turned saturday, and the low sound of rain hitting the roof of your trailer had been accompanying you as you watched your film. usually, eddie would be with you, curled up in your bed, watching whatever movie it was that you had picked out with his hands trailing through your hair because he knew you loved it. 
the sound of knuckles rapping on the trailer door drags your attention away from the movie, and it's not until then that you eventually pull yourself from the sheets. there was only ever one person that would come knocking so late at night, and the small "open up, my ass is freezing" that follows, only solidifies your thoughts. 
eddie was your best friend — he was also the best friend you could ever ask for — protective, compassionate, understanding. he saw the world in you, much like you did him, and it had been that way ever since you were kids. 
giggling to yourself, you straighten out the shirt you were wearing, an old one of eddie's that he no longer wore, and opened the door to see him leaning against the frame. a smirk is splayed across his lips, his unruly hair slightly damp and covered in tiny raindrops as it fell over his dewy brown eyes, and he pulls something from his back pocket. 
"wanna go for a drive?" he wriggles his brows, holding a joint between his pale fingers. 
"and by 'drive'... you mean?"
"getting high in the back of my van." he answers almost immediately. you don't respond, instead, you narrow your eyes at him for a second. the hint of a smile makes an appearance, and he takes the little roll of your eyes as a 'yes'.
you give him a light shove, though he adds to the theatrics and plays along as if it had actually hurt before inviting himself in and closing the door. "i would've come by earlier but hellfire ran a little later than i thought it would, and then i got carried away planning out next weeks part of the campaign." he plants himself on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as you search through your basket of discarded laundry to find some pants. 
"have they worked out you're bringing vecna back, yet?" you ask, sifting to the bottom of the pile and plucking out a pair to slip on. 
"no, but dustin made a huge move tonight and i think they could be close to finding out." 
as eddie continues to relay the events that had unfolded at hellfire, you head to your room to grab a jacket, though upon your return, you notice he had suddenly gone quiet. there wasn't but a murmur or an utterance that fell from his lips. 
he remains on the sofa, his head lulled back against the cushions as he stares at the roof. something had shifted in his demeanour. his eyes no longer sparkled with passion like they had only moments ago, and his ever-so-lovable smirk had disappeared.
"you okay, eds?" you ask, adorning a now worrisome frown, and you sit on your side to face him. your knee hits his thigh, and the chain on his pants clangs together, but he doesn't answer, his mind a million miles away. "eds?" you poke him gently. 
"hmm, what?" he clicks back to reality, eyes wide when he sees you're beside him now. he blinks back whatever had been plaguing his mind, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and looks to you once more. "what were you saying?"
"i wasn't saying anything, you were, and then you went quiet." you give a lopsided smile, leaning your arm against the back of the sofa to rest your head on. "what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?"
he blushes, relishing in the way you call him pretty, and his head sinks with a sigh, "m’just thinking."
"you? eddie munson? thinking?" there's another tug at his lips, the ghost of a smile appearing before it's gone once again. he lets out another sigh, eyes avoiding you now, and that's when you know something is truly bothering him. "okay, sit. tell me what's wrong." you pat your thigh. 
obliging, eddie moves to rest his head on you, your fingers immediately finding his hair and entangling among the curly locks. ever since you were little eddie had always been an open book to you, constantly telling you what was on his mind, never keeping anything hidden. more times than not, you knew what was wrong with him before he did, but this... this seemed different. 
it takes him a moment, but eventually, he opens his mouth to speak, the gears turning in his head, "do you ever think about getting out of here?"
"out of hawkins?"
"yeah. like just packing a bag and leaving?" 
"like.. every day."
"where would you go?" he looks up at you through the shaggy mess of his bangs, a quirk in his smile as his dimples peak through now. 
you shrug, "anywhere is better than here. what about you?"
"oh, i'd pack up my van in a heartbeat. take my guitars, my tapes, my dnd stuff and just take off. don't know where, but as long as i'm on the road, i don't care." it was hard not to notice the way his eyes lit up as he spoke about hitting the road, though the pang in your chest that followed after him mentioning leaving, set a wave of fear over you. 
for so long eddie had been a part of your life, the one constant you had as you grew. it was hard to ever imagine a life without him because... you didn't want to. after spending so many years by each other's sides, running to one another in your times of need, being the only person the other fully trusted — a life without eddie would be an empty one. 
there's a flicker of fear in your eyes that eddie catches sight of before it's quickly gone. a tug between your brows as worry etches across your forehead because while the thought of leaving hawkins had crossed your mind many times, you never intended to leave eddie behind, nor would you want to. but with the roles reversed, you weren't entirely sure if you held the same amount of importance. 
this hurts even more when you take into consideration the flourishing feelings you had for him. it was bound to happen — practically inevitable — but you couldn't bare the thought of him ever finding out. 
a blanket of silence falls over the two of you, eddie's ringed fingers dancing across the material of the sofa until he reaches yours and pulls your hand towards his chest. he doesn't say anything, just fiddles with the ends of your fingers, before abruptly sitting up and turning to you. 
there was a shift in the way he was looking at you now, almost like he had something to tell you - something that was on the tip of his tongue. he prods at the sofa nervously, before planting his hands in his lap and shuffling closer to you. 
"there is one thing that i know i wouldn't be able to leave without though." he says in a way, that both confused and intrigues you. "well, i should say 'someone' rather."
"rick." you joke. 
a soft chuckle leaves him, "no. though, now that you mention it-" he stops short when you playfully hit his shoulder, an array of laughter falling from you both. "i'm kidding. i'm kidding. obviously… it’s you."
"you mean that?" there’s a coy smile on your lips, unsure if his words were sincere or if he was simply saying it to make you feel better.
his brows pinch together, "of course, i do." 
"what if… you get sick of me?"
"i could never get sick of you, you muppet." he ruffles your hair.
"what if i get sick of you?"
"I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that."
another silence falls over you both, smiling at one another, thinking of scenarios in your heads of the two of you on the road. iron maiden playing at an alarmingly loud volume as eddie sings along with the wind blowing through his hair, and he wears the biggest smile you had ever seen as you drive through the prettiest of landscapes.
"do you... do you ever think about... us?" he hums the question though there's a shakiness to it that you don't think he meant to let off.
"what? like hanging out? we already do that."
"no,” he exhales. "i mean... people say that you're likely to fall in love with your best friend. do you ever think like that about us?" the question takes you by surprise. did he somehow know of your feelings for him? your sudden silence seems to stir something in him. "uh, y'know what? just forget i said anything."
"no, eds," you reach for his hand but he moves it before you can. "do you think about us... like that?"
he peels himself off the sofa now, pacing a little on the other side of the coffee table, "no — i mean, sometimes. i just — mike said something that got me thinking and, i know that i shouldn't let that little shit get inside my head. but, i don't know, lately, i just can't seem to keep you… out of it."
you were unsure as to what eddie was implying — saying he couldn’t get you out of his head — did he mean it the same way you did? or did he just mean he had been thinking about you like he always did? "what did mike say?" your voice is low, almost too afraid to ask. 
"oh, he was just being a smartass as per usual,” his brows raise as he rolls his eyes. “when i said i had to check-in with you first about whether or not we could fit in an extra hellfire session this week because we had already made plans, he said ‘why is she your girlfriend now?’ of course, i denied it, but then jeff started saying that i act like we’re a married couple, or that we’re domesticated, or some shit. and then, of course, dustin just had to chime in saying that he sees the way we look at each other — what does that even mean? — and then gareth and jeff started saying all this bullshit and-“
“-eds,” the sound of his name falling off your tongue hits him like sweet honey, stopping him mid-ramble as his head whips back to you. you stand to join him around the other side of the table, his eyes watching you with wonderment as you slowly approach him. “… i do too.”
“you do too, what?” he asks, bemused, and it’s not until you tilt your head and raise a brow that he catches on. “wait… you do?” you nod, tracing his features as he does the same to you. his eyes illuminated by the moonlight as his bangs fall in disarray, and you reach up to gently brush them back into place. “what are you doing?”
"i wanted to see your face." you say, lowly, your hands now falling to land on his shoulders. 
"why?" he asks. 
"i wanted to see your face..." you pause briefly, a shiver of anticipation rolling down your spine. "... when i do this." you lean forward now, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. he's quick to catch on to what you meant, and he meets you halfway, pressing your lips together with pent-up urgency. 
"y/n," he mumbles your name against your lips before slightly pulling away, leaving you breathless as your chest rises and falls dramatically. "are you sure? i don't — i don't want this to ruin anything between us." he smiles through his eyes, though there's a sadness deep within him begging for reassurance. 
"what did you say to me before? about the someone you wouldn't be able to leave without?" you ask, leaving him with more questions than the ones he already had. 
he exhales, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip as his hands rest on your hips. "i said... it's you." 
"exactly." 
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chaconnenha · 6 months
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이희승 STRAWBERRIES & CIGARETTES
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📄⸝⸝ heeseung needed a little sweetness in his life. (he needed you.) ❪ ꕤ ❫ pairing. bad boy!lhs x f!reader ʬʬʬ───includes. slightly suggestive, but ends with fluff, smoking, heeseung is down bad for you . . . LIBRARY ?!
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YOU were two steps away from the top of the rooftop staircase when you saw him standing with his back towards the view, his eyes on you, while he lit a cigarette between his lips. A trail of smoke to fill the space between you, connecting you like an invisible string. The smell of tobacco hit you fast as you took the next few steps forward. You came to a stop a few feet away from him, as if you had walked into an invisible wall.
Lee Heeseung started. You stared back. How many times have you met like this now? It felt like too much of a coincidence that you would both be on the rooftop at the same time. And yet, you didn’t find yourself minding it too much—you didn’t mind him too much. Your friends told you to stay away. They told you he was no good. But as he stood before you now—the notorious bad boy, the lone wolf—you couldn’t hear anything other than the sound of your own thrumming heart.
Your fingers subconsciously tightened around the stick of strawberry lollipop in your hand. You followed the way his chest rose with a breath, before falling as a puff of smoke was blown from his lips. You didn’t see the way his eyes drifted down your body from where he stood, taking in the way your glossy lips shone under the sun like a piece of candied fruit.
“That can’t be good for you,” you said, tilting your head ever so slightly. And almost immediately—like he were searching for water in the desert—his eyes drifted to the way your hair shifted to reveal the nape of your neck, the innocent act corrupted by the thoughts that ran through his mind. He thought about what it would be like to have you bear your neck to him like that, to let him cover the skin in hungry kisses in attempt to taste the sweetness of the scent you carried around like an aphrodisiac. 
“Does it matter?” he asked, lowering his voice just the slightest, as if trying to play the part of a big bad wolf scaring you away. A word of caution before he got the urge to devour you whole.  Run away little bunny, it seemed to say. I don’t play nice.
“It can’t be that good, can it?” You asked innocently. “Why don’t you have something that tastes better?”
Heeseung’s breath was caught in his throat. And if he had filled his lungs with smoke from his cigarette, he might have coughed it all out at the wording of your question. You didn’t mean it in that way—he knew that, because you were just too good. You grew flustered whenever he so much as caught you looking in his direction, you wouldn’t be able to flirt without burning brighter than the strawberries that you always smelled like.
But god, all he wanted to do was ask if you were going to offer yourself up as an alternative. Because even if he never got to taste the flavour of the gloss on your lips, he knew it would be the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Just one taste, he wanted to ask of you. And damn did he hate himself for letting his thoughts run wild by something so innocent.
“Yeah?” he whispered, breathless. “Like what?”
Your lips jutted into a cute little pout, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. He didn’t even take notice of the way your looked at the lollipop in your hand. It took only a few seconds before you knew what to do. You skipped your way over to the boy, until you were standing right in front of you. Now, you were closer than ever before, and Heeseung was looking down at you as if you were an angel sent from heaven, because how else was someone so bright, so pretty, up close? 
“Here.” You held out the lollipop in front of his starstruck eyes. “You can have it.”
When he didn’t respond, you took his calloused hand into yours—and he let you, like some puppy trained to give their paw when asked. You held onto it, before placing the unopened treat onto his palm, and closing his fingers over it. He stared at you like an idiot, the hand holding his cigarette falling to his side as he remained fixated on the feeling of your hand holding his.
His eyes flickered to your face, only to find that you were avoiding his gaze. Your chewed on your lip, before lowering your head, allowing your hair to fall over your face. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to be silenced... with a kiss.
He almost fell over in shock at the feeling of your soft lips on his parted ones, an explosion of strawberry bursting across the tip of his tongue, tasting just as sweet as he imagined. Your soft curves were pressed against his toned body, and he barely had the strength to keep his arms from wrapping around you and pulling you to him until the only barrier left between you were your clothes. Instead, he let his hands cup your face, as if he were cradling the entire world in his palms.
Heeseung leaned into your kiss as if you were a siren leading him to drown in the depths of the ocean, and all he wanted was to stay in this moment forever, to lose himself in your kiss rather than another cigarette. But before he could, you were pulling away. He looked into your eyes, his hands shaking as gasping breath left his lips. “That wasn't what I was expecting. But I'm not complaining.”
You giggled. Fuck, you were so cute. "Well that was only a one time thing.”
Damn it. “So, what do I do to make it permanent?”
You bit your lip, and it gave him half the mind to lean over and bite it himself. But then you glanced at him, a cheeky glint in your eye, and wave of warmth rushed up into his chest.
“Try not to smoke so much, okay?”
Heeseung didn’t get a chance to speak before you were scrambling off like a scared little animal with their tail between their legs. He watched your form as it disappeared, too late say anything before you were gone from his sight. But as he listened to the sound of your hurried footsteps and grow farther away, he couldn’t help but laugh. 
He looked at the lollipop, then at the cigarette. With a breathy chuckle, he dropped the latter, extinguishing the flame with the heel of his shoe. Staring up at the sun, he unwrapped the lollipop, before bringing it to his lips. Your face flashed through his mind, and he found himself unable to contain the smile that found its way onto his features.
It tasted sweet.
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© chaconnenha ( ALL RIGHTS RESERVED )
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mountttmase · 3 months
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I Bet You Miss Her
Note - Hey guys 🩷 just a cute little baby fic today and thank you to the anon who sent the request in, I hope it’s okay for you 😘 feedback would be appreciated 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 5K
Warnings - angst and fluff
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Mason always loved a pre-season party, getting everyone together after weeks apart and excited for the season to start usually meant he was in his element but this year was different. You weren’t with him this time.
That didn’t mean he didn’t see you everywhere he looked. That when he watched one of his teammates wrap their arm around their significant other he didn’t feel a pang of emptiness because you weren’t by his side. He knew he should be there with you and he knew this was all his doing but being here hurt more than thought it might.
He felt lost. His arms limp by his sides as he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands now they weren’t wrapped around yours. His eyes glued to the floor as he knew he’d still be looking for you even though you were miles away and as he stood with Licha and his family he was trying his best to act normal and not let his inner turmoil spill over.
‘So Mase, where’s y/n?’ Muri asked, a bright and friendly smile on her face as she wrapped her hand around Licha’s bicep and the sound of your name sent shock waves through him. He’d been expecting it for a while but he wasn’t sure if he wanted your name brought up in conversation or not. On the one hand he was desperate for someone to bring you up so he could imagine you once more and have an excuse to talk about you but he also knew the memories would just be too painful just like they always were.
‘Oh uh, she’s on a work trip. She’ll be back in a few days’ Mason lied smoothly. His lips pressed into a tight line as he fiddled with the last button on his shirt but thankfully she bought his excuse.
‘Ah amazing, she doing so well for herself. I bet you miss her though’ she pouted and her sympathy just made him feel worse somehow.
‘Yeah, yeah I really do’ Masons whispered and it was like the words hit him in his soul. Gulping back a lump that was rising up his through far too quickly for his liking before raising his glass to his lips in a final attempt to disguise his emotions.
Today had been a lot.
It was officially three months since the breakup and Mason couldn’t have felt worse if he tried.
Nothing had caused the pair of you to break up, nothing big at least. The move from London to Manchester had been tough for the pair of you and you knew he was finding it hard to settle. The constant injuries meant he spent more time with the United staff rather than his teammates that he should have been bonding with and unbeknownst to you one of them was having more of an effect on him than you knew.
What started off as bickering as you were both on edge became bigger arguments as the season wore on. Mason spending longer hours with his new friend on the physio table and at first you didn’t mind because it gave you a chance to cool off but soon enough it got to the point of no return for him.
You always figured the fighting was a phase and something to move past but the morning of a big away game, his first start since October the year before, he’d told you he couldn’t carry on and felt it was best if the pair of you ended things there so it didn’t get any worse.
You were blindsided, it never being in your head that he would end things as you knew you loved him enough to work through it but as soon as he left for the game you packed your car until it was full and made your way back home to London later that evening.
It felt like he was taking the easy way out. Not giving you a chance to fight or say anything back, just telling you he was done and running away so he didn’t have to face the consequences but if that’s what he wanted then that’s what he would get. Driving back to your best friend's house who was ready to welcome you with open arms whilst you cursed his name all night. Confused as to how you’d even got here but you were hoping that when he returned home he’d feel just as awful as you were.
The game went terribly, Mason not really ready to play the amount of time he had been given and even though he wasn’t really to blame the loss hit harder than most. Not speaking a word to anyone unless he had to on the flight home and once he was back in his car he finally let his emotions get the better of him. Slamming his head onto the steering wheel before letting the first few tears fall.
This felt like rock bottom.
Mason knew you were gone as soon as he got home. Your car was gone and your house keys left in the dish on the console table told him as much when he walked in, but he could also feel you were gone. Your presence had been sucked right out of the home you’d built together and Mason felt awful instantly. He’d known since he stepped onto the plane yesterday morning that he’d made a mistake and all he wanted after an awful 12 hours or so was for you to make him feel better like you always did.
He tried every way known to man to try and get a hold of you but nothing seemed to be working. Even contemplating sending a messenger pigeon if he thought that might have worked but after five days of nothing from you he knew you were done. He’d made his bed and now he just had to lie in it no matter how uncomfortable it was.
In the end he figured he’d just wait for you to come to your senses and reply as you must be missing him just as much as he was missing you but the call never came. Just days that turned into weeks of waiting and waiting and soon enough the inevitable questions as to your whereabouts came.
Muri wasn't the first person to ask after you and she wasn’t the first to have been lied to by Mason. Everyone who mentioned you he managed to fob off with a different excuse and at this point you’d been on more girls trips and work trips than he could shake a stick at. He was running out of excuses though and he’d told his mum you’d been ill for so long that she was threatening to come and look after you herself but Mason always had it covered.
He was surprised he’d managed to get away with it for this long without someone coming back at him, thinking word must have gotten back to you eventually but no one ever questioned him and his spiral of lies just kept getting deeper. Too embarrassed to admit he’d let go of the best thing to ever happen to him so he kept going until the excuses no longer sounded plausible.
Where were you? Oh, yeah she’s at the dentist, she’s gone back home to visit her family for a few days, she’s already got plans she can’t cancel he lied but before he knew it he was paying for his sins.
It was 11pm a few days after the pre-season party and Mason was just about to get ready for bed. Switching his tv off and taking his snacks back to the kitchen but that’s as far as he got. The sudden sound of pounding fists on his door startled him and he froze in fear for a moment before he quickly pulled up the doorbell app on his phone. It was clearly a little slow to alert him to someone being outside but was met with a sight he thought he’d never see again.
He was running to open the door in a flash, pulling it open so quickly you almost fell inside as you were still aggressively slamming your fists on it and once you’d gathered yourself Mason swore he’d never seen you so mad before.
‘Why are you telling everyone we’re still together?’ You demanded, your voice loud and hard and he felt his tummy drop as the seconds went by. A deep feeling of regret but also love for you swimming through him and he didn’t quite know what to say.
‘Wha… what are you doing here?’ He asked, trying to avoid the question a little bit he knew it was for nothing. You were beyond furious.
‘Work trip, funnily enough’ you laughed but he knew there wasn’t an ounce of humour in it. Clearly word had gotten back to you and at this moment he didn’t know if he was happy about it or not. ‘Now answer my question’
‘I- I don’t know-‘
‘‘Keep my name out of your mouth, Mason. You broke up with me, remember? You don’t get to do this’ you cut him off, ready to turn around and leave as you had nothing else to say to him but as soon as you looked away his helpless voice ran through the air.
‘Baby please-‘
‘Don’t’ you snapped, holding your finger up so he would stop talking. Your voice now cold compared to what it just was and Mason realised in that moment he’d rather have you angry at him than whatever this was. ‘Just don’t. You don’t get to call me that’
‘Don’t go, I fucked up but we can fix this’ he pleaded but you didn’t come here to talk. You came to tell him to leave you alone and you weren’t prepared for this at all.
‘No we cant-‘
‘Baby please-‘
‘No Mason! Why are you doing this to me? Have you not put me through enough?’ You shouted as you turned back to him fully, your emotions getting the better of you as you tried and failed to hold in a sob and your hands were now balled up into fists as you were so frustrated with the boy in front of you. ‘I’m trying to move on with my life but I’ve got people asking me about you all the time and bringing you up cause you’re still living in some weird fantasy land!’
‘Please baby, please don’t cry I can fix it’ he whimpered as he moved closer to you but made sure to take a step back so he didn’t get too close.
‘There’s nothing to fix! We’re done!’
‘No we’re not. Don't say that okay, you’re mine’ he sobbed as he ran his fingers through his hair erratically. ‘What do you want from me, huh? What is it cause whatever it is I’ll do it now. You want me on my knees? You want me to beg for you back cause I don’t care I’ll do it’ he told you, lowering himself onto the ground in front of you but all it did was make you sob harder. ‘I don’t care that you hate me, I don’t care that you think we’re done. I love you and I'm not giving up on us ever when I know we can work this out’ he cried. ‘Why won’t you listen to me’
‘Because you’re a coward, Mase! You broke up with me before an away game so you could run away. You didnt fight for me then and you don't get to fight for me now’
‘Please’
‘No’ you told him, hoping that could be the end of it so you turned in your heel and ran away. Knowing that he’d be delayed by a few seconds if he wanted to get up and chase you but by the time you’d got in your car and looked back he hadn’t moved from his spot. His chest now pressed to the floor as he’d slumped forward with his head hidden in the crook of his arm and you could see his back moving erratically up and down from what you presumed was him crying.
There was something in you that made you stop, something that made you want to get out of your car and run back to him. To stand him up and hold him and tell him everything was fine and you were still his but you didn’t. You couldn’t.
That didn’t mean you didn’t think of him over the next few days. Hours spent in your friend's box room as you didn’t have the heart to find your own place yet but the sound of his voice and the memory of him being so heartbroken was etched into your brain and you couldn’t seem to move on from it.
You’d never seen him so distraught before in all the time you’d known him. On his knees in front of you begging for another chance and you’d just ran away and left him sobbing on his drive after pouring his heart out to you.
You hated the way he still occupied your thoughts. Before things had gone wrong you believed he was your forever and would have done absolutely anything for him but all that had changed and right now you didn’t think you could ever fully move past this unless you sat with him and spoke to him properly. No matter how much it hurt.
Mason was absentmindedly watching whatever was on tv when his phone alerted him to someone being outside. He didn’t hear a knock or anything moving outside so he quickly opened the app to put his mind at rest when he was met with your face. Your hand rising and falling as you thought about whether or not you should press the bell but Mason wasn’t about to give you a choice and shot up from the sofa to pull the front door open
You weren't expecting him to suddenly be there, a hopeful look on his face as he tried to control his breathing and you felt your heart leap at the sight of him.
‘You’re back’ he whispered, watching you wrap your arms around yourself as you looked down at the floor and all he wanted was to wrap you up in his own arms. To kiss you and promise you he’d never hurt you again as he hated how you looked so fragile and nervous but he was taking you being as a positive sign.
‘Yeah’ you breathed, nodding lightly. ‘I was just about to knock, I um… do you think… do you think I could come in?’
‘Of course you can’ he nodded, pulling the door open wider before shutting it behind you. Watching you glance around the house you used to call a home before you stood playing with your fingers. ‘Can I get you anything? You want a drink or-‘
‘No, I think it’s best we just talk and get this over with’ you told him. walking right by him to get to the sitting room and the familiarity of the place hit you immediately. Nothing had changed, he even still had the same pictures of the pair of you in the frames by the fireplace and you felt your tummy drop at the sight of them. They felt like they were from a different life at this point and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be like that with anyone ever again.
Mason sighed before joining you, his shoulders slumped as he thought maybe you’d come here to listen to him and let him put things right but from just that small awkward interaction he knew you were done. He was just praying to anyone and anything he could change your mind somehow.
‘I’m sorry’ he mumbled as he took a seat opposite you but you weren’t here to listen to that again.
‘I don’t want an apology Mason, you’ve said that a million times now. I want an explanation’ you told him calmly. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing… and everything I guess’ he sighed, running his hand over his beard before scratching the back of his neck. All of his tells to let you know he was nervous. ‘Things were rough for a while, I think we both can agree on that’ he said and you nodded lightly. Things had been hard but never once had you thought about ending things with him. ‘It was just a hard year for me… and then were was Jason’
‘Jason?’ You asked, confused as to who he was talking about as the only Jason you knew was Mason's physio and he’d always been sweet to you when you’d seen him so you were confused as to why he was being bought up now.
‘Yeah, he’d been on at me for months about ending things with you’ he confessed and you felt your heart sink. ‘It's my fault, I saw him most days and we got pretty comfortable around each other so I said some things that looking back now I shouldn’t have. It was just guy talk you know? I didn’t mean anything by it at first, we were just moaning about our other halves but then he broke up with his girlfriend and he was going on about how much lighter felt now he was single and maybe I should do the same so we could be single together’
‘What?’ You breathed. Not knowing if this was a joke or not but you knew Mason and you knew he was open to everyone so it was no wonder he took advice from some he thought he could trust.
‘I know, and I know it doesn't make me sound any better. I get that. But we were arguing over stupid things and I had him in my ear constantly like I just lost it’
You didn’t know what to say. You understood a bit better now but it still didn’t make things easier.
‘But I knew it was dumb, maybe in the back of my mind that’s why I did it when I did cause you’re right. I was a coward and I wanted to run away but I knew It’s not what I wanted as soon as I got on the bloody plane to leave. I didn’t get chance to talk to you or do anything until later that night and I tried to call you but I never heard from you’
‘You didn’t even really give me a chance to fight for us. You told me what you wanted and left as quickly as you could. I didn’t exactly feel like giving you a chance to explain anything after that’ you told him quietly and he nodded knowingly. His face crumpling as he tried and failed to hold it together and you couldn’t lie and say the way he was wasn’t having an effect on you and his watery eyes were like a dagger to your heart.
‘I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never stopped loving you’ he sobbed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye so he could stop crying but it only made your eyes sting in return. ‘That day when I finished things, well I didn’t just hurt you. It's like I tore my own heart from my chest and I’ve never been able to numb that ache. Why do you think I lied and told everyone we were still together?’
‘Cause you’re certifiably insane’ you whispered. Your heart leaping at the way he let out a little chuckle as he wiped his eyes and when your eyes locked you felt your resolve crumble further.
‘Well yes, there’s that, but I couldn’t admit what I’d done to anyone cause I was embarrassed’ he gulped. ‘And I didn’t want to admit it to myself half the time. You’re way too good for me, I know that. Fuck everyone knows that so why would I want to tell everyone I’d thrown away the best thing to have ever happened to me. I know exactly what they’d say and how dumb I felt even just thinking it to myself so I made out you were just busy or something’ he shrugged. His confession melting your cold exterior slightly before he was scratching the back off his neck again. The cogs turning in his brain as he tried to make you believe in whatever way he could.
‘Mums been asking after you loads, I kept saying you were sick or had an appointment. She even sent me those special immunity tea bags to give you like they’re in the cupboard and everything’ he laughed and you felt your heart warm at how kind his family were. You’d missed going to visit them but didn’t want to reach out and have things be weird but now you were glad you hadn’t as clearly they were none the wiser
‘Does she know now?’ You whispered but he just shook his head awkwardly. The bridge of his nose turning a bright red out of embarrassment but your heart was hammering as you always found that to be one of his cutest tells and it was like you had to restrain yourself in your seat so you didn’t reach over to grab his face and kiss him.
‘No, she still thinks we’re together. I'd actually like to keep it that way’ he told you and even though you knew it was coming you weren’t ready to accept what he wanted to say. At least you didn’t think you were.
‘Mason-‘
‘Please’ he pleaded. His big brown eyes melting you even further and even though you promised yourself you’d be strong he was making it difficult. ‘Please, y/n. I said it the other night and I’ll say it again. I really would do anything for another chance and I’ll get down on my knees again if you want me to’ he told you and the tiny smile on your face must have given him the courage to push forward a little bit. Sliding off the sofa before getting himself settled between your thighs and resting his hands on them gingerly. You felt your heart thump as he looked up at you through his lashes and you knew you were putty in his hands at this point no matter how much you didn’t want to be.
‘I’m the biggest idiot known to mankind and I let you go when I should have held you closer. I know I can make you so happy, we were happy once were we?’
‘Yeah, we were’ you agreed quietly cause deep down you knew you really were and you knew I wouldn’t take much to get back there.
‘So we can do it again, right?’
‘I don’t know Mase’
‘Why? What’s holding you back?’ He questioned and at this point you didn’t even know. Only a few seconds away from just agreeing with anything he said as the hopeful look on his face was destroying you but you knew you had more to say.
‘Cause it hurt’ you whispered. ‘I hurt when you left me, it still hurts now’
‘It hurts because it matters’ he whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear and the gesture made you shiver. ‘And it matters because we still love each other. If you didn’t care anymore then it wouldn’t hurt’ he told you and you hated but loved the way he had you on strings. ‘Please baby, please. I can’t be without you anymore it’s killing me’ he told you, his voice wobbling as he looked down into your lap.
You couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to cup his jaw so he’d look at you and the tears rolling down his cheeks broke your heart. You knew he was right, it hurt because you still loved him but looking at him so devastated between your legs hurt more than anything else.
All you wanted to do was make him feel better and you knew there was only one way to do it. Leaning down and pulling him up slightly so you could drop a sweat kiss to his lips and you knew he was surprised as he froze for a beat.
You both sat there for a few moments, foreheads touching with your eyes closed as it hit you what was happening but the smile on his face made you giddy so when he lent back in you let him take the lead. Kissing you gently as he gripped your thighs, almost making sure that you were actually there and he wasn’t dreaming but you were holding onto him just as tightly before pulling back to catch your breath.
‘I didn’t think I’d ever get to kiss you again’ Mason whispered but you couldn’t reply, Mason pulling you down onto the floor next to him before rolling himself half on top of you so he could kiss you again but the pair of you giggling didn’t help. ‘Is this really happening?’
‘Trust me when I say this, but I came over here with the intention of just putting things to bed and going back home’ you told him. Watching his face drop as things turned sombre. ‘But you’ve just made me realise I am home’ you told him, watching him pout slightly as he was so emotional. ‘I’ve been lost without you Masey, and yeah what you did sucked but I know you’re sorry yeah? I can see it all over your face’
‘I really am’
‘I know you are, and it’s okay. I forgive you’ you whispered and it’s like you felt his body relax under your fingertips.
‘Are you sure? I feel like I haven’t said half of what I wanted to’ he gulped, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d forgiven him so quickly but you didn’t see the point of prolonging everything.
‘That’s okay’ you whispered. ‘You’ve said enough for me, life isn’t always about big apologies you know? I’d rather you make up for things with actions not words’
‘And I will’ he confirmed before leaning down to kiss you again. You tummy flipping at how gentle he was being with you and even before things had turned sour you couldn’t remember the last time you kissed like this. The last time he made you feel like this but you knew the feelings had never died, other stupid things had just gotten in the way.
You pulled back soon after, the pair of you just looking at each other in awe as you shared tiny kisses and soft stares before you felt his hand on your waist. You’d missed his touch and the feel of him made you wonder what else you’d missed in your months apart.
‘You won the fa cup’ you giggled, your eyes burning again as you thought back to the pictures of him looking so happy with his team mates. A nice end to a hard year he’d suffered and even though you’d been mad at him you knew how much it meant for him to win a domestic trophy and you couldn’t not be pleased for him.
‘I did yeah’ he laughed, tears springing to his eyes once more. ‘And we didn’t get to celebrate it together’
‘We’ve got time to, it’ll just be a little late that’s all’ you shrugged and he nodded down at you enthusiastically.
‘We do’ he breathed. Kissing your forehead before cradling your face so he could look at you properly. ‘And you’re going on work trips?’
‘Yeah, a week or two after I went home I got promoted’ you smiled, rolling your eyes lightly as the pair of you knew it was something you’d been working towards but in your mind it was still a little way down the line.
‘I’m so fucking proud of you’ he told you sincerely, pecking your lips quickly before looking at you again and the smile on his face melted you. ‘Looks like we’ve got a fair few things to celebrate then’
‘I think so, and you know how I like to celebrate’
‘Chocolate cake?’ He questioned, an eyebrow raised but he knew he was right. It was always your little tradition and how you celebrated the small wins.
‘Chocolate cake’ you confirmed with a smile and his bright eyes made you melt.
‘I’m gonna get you the best chocolate cake I can find, yeah. Only the best for my girl’ he smiled before his face dropped a fraction. ‘You’re still my girl aren’t you?’
‘I’m still your girl’ you told him, stroking his cheek as he looked at you softly. ‘Even though I was mad as hell I was always your girl Mase. And I always will be’
‘You and me against the world, sweetheart’
‘Of course, but I have a condition’ you told him, watching him raise his brow at you questioningly. ‘If you get upset again, please talk to me so we can work it out’
‘I will baby, I promise’ he told you sincerely and you knew he meant it. ‘I don’t ever want to be without you again, yeah? I fucking hated it’
‘Me too’ you laughed, pulling him down into a soft kiss that you couldn’t help but smile into as you felt him melt. ‘Now what’s happening with that chocolate cake’
‘Come on, we’ll get it together. Not letting you out of my sight now’ he told you, helping you up from the floor so you could make your way to the car, your heart finally home with your forever person.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed if you feel like leaving some feedback it would be much appreciated 🩷
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buckyalpine · 4 months
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I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.
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Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.
"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.
"No"
Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.
Not today.
Not when he knew what he really was.
What he had been all along.
He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.
Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.
"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.
"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-
"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.
"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.
Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.
"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.
His arm was dangerous.
He was dangerous.
"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"
He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"
You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.
"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.
"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.
"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.
Why?
"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.
"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.
"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"
"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.
"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"
The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.
"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.
Regardless of what the world though, had you.
A pure sweet angel.
She trusted him.
That had to mean something.
It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.
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