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#also I am very tired today so if some of it makes no sense know that I did my best LOL
x-adoringvoid-x · 4 months
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Apparently that's called the 'irresistible force paradox'
#oc f/o#f/o art#fictional other#self shipping#self insert#oc#original character#they're patient with me#also I finally draw Hadri with a different form!#I want to do more with their shape shifting but I haven't made much that turns out well#small vent in tags upcoming if you don't want to read#Feeling bad about posting but I shouldn't just give up#In some way social media isn't for me because I take things too personally#but if I'm going to meet people I have some common ground with I don't know where else I'd look#common ground with something that means something to me#I want to meet people that don't suck to talk to#And actively have things they want to talk to me about that we're both interested in#Tired of being just ears.#I'm talking about my family here not anyone on the site btw#I just wish there were people who wanted to talk in the same way I want to talk#same level of energy I guess#Sorry to vent in silly drawings but it is what it is#Fun fact if you read this far...Hadri would like Evangelion#I don't know why that came to mind today but it makes total sense#They're a deity-like person so religion is interesting and they'd be drawn in by the drama#I honestly don't know how they'd examine media since their setting is basically medieval so Hadri's never really watched anything#Maybe a play?#I'd be nice to know what Hadri would think of things I like#But my tastes are very colorful... watched Ind/go Park for example and have it stuck in my head now#Popp/ playtime and Ind/go Park seem to both be going for fnaf Portal and I am feeling something
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burningthetree · 2 years
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jules!! i am here building a blanket fort in your asks ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ and i’m ready to talk about ooey gooey otp asks things
if you’re comfy, i would love to hear what you have to say for 3, 4, and 25 bokuaka!! and if it’s not too much (answer only those you want to) 7, 9, and 17 for sakuatsu
anywho much love and snuggles to you ✨💛
Omg evie!! Yes ask me about my otps all you want, I love rambling about them <3 also this took me a long time to answer because I thought about it for so long lmao
Bokuaka:
3. Most common argument?
I think they don’t argue about a lot of serious things, and their arguments aren’t the worst thing in the world — most are about Bokuto leaving the toilet seat up, which Akaashi grumbles about (though this is just me projecting my relationship with my roommate and his toilet habits LOL) and Bokuto grumbling about Akaashi critising his sometimes chaotic habits. But those are small arguments that they resolve almost immediately because it’s nothing profound. Something more serious that they argue about is Akaashi’s blatant lack of selfcare by overworking himself almost constantly, and he denies it when Bokuto accuses him of it — that sometimes results in a fight until Akaashi gives in because he knows Bokuto is right. It still keeps happening though, even when Akaashi swears he’ll be better. But Bokuto knows that some (bad) habits are hard to break, and he’s more than happy to help Akaashi.
4. Favourite non-sexual activity?
Bokuto likes it when Akaashi reads to him, so when they can’t agree on what movie/show to watch, they settle on a book. They both love stories, but Bokuto isn’t the type to sit still for hours with his eyes locked on a page. But he could listen to Akaashi’s voice for hours on end, so they just sit there leaning against each other, the domestic vibes are immaculate, as Akaashi reads to him. They also like to do random dates throughout the week with no specific context attached, but just because they want to have a good time with each other. So they prepare a jar with pieces of paper with date ideas written on it, and when they have time, they pick an activity to do. It’s their favourite thing in the world. And it’s mundane things like baking something or trying out a new hobby together, it’s nothing special, but it’s special to them.
25. Who needs more assurance?
I think they can both be fairly insecure, but I think it’d be Akaashi, especially post-time skip. rose Sakura wrote a great one-shot about this that might cause some bias for me, but I think from time to time, Akaashi might realise that he’s dating/married to a very popular volleyball star, whereas he is ‘only’ an editor at a job that wasn’t even his dream to begin with. Bokuto fundamentally disagrees with Akaashi’s insecurities and always manages to make him feel better about himself, and when they’re married, it gets much better, but it still sometimes comes up a little bit from time to time, but they learn how to deal with it effectively and in the healthiest way possible because it’s Bokuaka and I cannot allow them to be unhappy in my brain
Sakuatsu
7. What's the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?
When they wouldn’t have been honest before, they are now. Something they agree on is to always communicate and always be honest, so when, before getting together, they would have been closed off and kept their true emotions to themselves, they open up. At first, they do because the other asks. Eventually, they open up without being prompted to do so, and their trust in each other only grows with it.
9. Who worries the most?
I want to say both, especially at the start of their relationship. I hc Atsumu to have a bunch of abandonment issues that got much worse when Osamu quit, giving him the feeling that everyone will leave him eventually, even the people closest to him. So I think he’d be worried that Kiyoomi would, too, eventually, and Atsumu isn’t sure he’d ever be able to properly recover from yet another person leaving him. I also think that Kiyoomi is fully aware of how awful his personality is and that he is a difficult person, which leads him to believe that he is hard to love, so he shuts off before anyone can get close enough to hurt him. But he lets Atsumu in, and he’s not scared of getting hurt, he’s just worried that Atsumu might realise that he is not the best person — obviously that doesn’t happen because Atsumu is an asshole™️ . But maybe that is just me projecting here because that’s what I would want to write for them in my fic (not sure if it’ll happen like this, but I want it to).
17. Who says ‘I love you’ first?
Atsumu. But I don’t think he says it in a romantic context, but he’s just a person who says it a lot and expresses his love overtly (whether it is platonic or romantic). So he tells Kiyoomi he loves but without romantic undertones (at least not explicit romantic subtext attached to the context), but then eventually Kiyoomi would say it first in a romantic context. I think it would more or less slip out in a moment where he lets his guard down and just says it to the surprise of both of them, and then Atsumu would say it right back after blinking at him in surprise at first, trying to process what he’d heard.
Thank you for making me talk about them, I love you so much!!
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dollgxtz · 2 months
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Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???
Kindred Spirits
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Word Count: 5.1k
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3
AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33
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“Finally…”
You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.
You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.
You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.
The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-
Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.
“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"
“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”
You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?
You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.
"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.
“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.
“Hu-”
“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”
The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.
Deep down, you wanted to see him too.
You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.
The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.
“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.
“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”
“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.
“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.
When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.
“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.
“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.
At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.
Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?
Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.
Come here.
As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.
“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.
“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.
This man can definitely hold his alcohol.
He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.
“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”
“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.
“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.
“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.
“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”
You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.
“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.
“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.
You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.
Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!
"You're so...confusing" you mutter.
You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.
“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.
“Time for business, sweetie”
You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.
In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.
All that money and he can't fix his smile?
You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.
“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.
“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”
Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.
“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.
“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.
You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.
“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.
Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.
“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.
Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.
Far too late to stop now though.
“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”
Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.
"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.
You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.
“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.
Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.
“I see where this is going then”.
You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.
You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.
“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”
You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.
“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.
“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.
"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.
You groan.
The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.
It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.
“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.
“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”
Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.
“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”
He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.
"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.
"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.
“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.
“Huh??”
“I don’t like to repeat myself”.
You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.
“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”
Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.
“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.
Oh. This was about that.
“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.
But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.
“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.
“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.
“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.
“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.
“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.
“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”
Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.
“For entertaining him” he says plainly.
Another smack.
“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”
An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.
“And lastly…”
You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.
“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”
You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.
“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.
“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.
This is far from over.
You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.
You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.
You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.
“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.
“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.
“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”
“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.
“Try again”
You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.
“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.
“And?”
You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?
“Hu-what?”
You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.
“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.
“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”
“Before that sweetie”
You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.
“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.
“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”
You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.
“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.
“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.
You decide to break the silence.
“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.
“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.
“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”
He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”
You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.
“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”
Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.
“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”
You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.
"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"
Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.
"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"
That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.
2K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 6 months
Text
GymRat!Miguel Part 2
content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!
word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.
GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.
GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.
“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”
Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”
“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”
GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.
GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.
GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.
GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.
GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.
“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”
Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.
“Wow…”
No, that’s corny.
“Loving the blue…”
Is he a frat guy?
“You look stunning”
Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.
GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.
He’s hard. Again.
He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.
He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.
He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.
GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.
“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”
He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.
GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.
He can never be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.
GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.
“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”
Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:
“Don’t ever question my game again”
"? Wtf are you talking about"
Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.
GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.
It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.
You looked soft, adorable, kissable.
He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.
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dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵
a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭
Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵
Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)
taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺
1K notes · View notes
etherealstar-writes · 8 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 3
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: three
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
brightness
we have training tomorrow
just a reminder
the REAL karate kid
ughh
kie
what's the bet leah and georgia
are gonna be a show off
while niamh's gonna be off in her own world
neev
hey! no need to call me out like that
i do focus
stairway
i am not a show off
willybum
me neither!
door knob
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you guys need proof?
the imposter
damn
you guys got that athletic build 💪
the REAL karate kid
......
willybum
.......
stairway
.......
elton
.......
earpsy
.......
brightness
.......
neev
.......
lotte
.......
maya
.......
daily
.......
the imposter
YO
HOW MANY OF YOU ARE ON THIS CHAT??
elton
i think the rest are asleep
the imposter
are you guys all part of some cult omg
and why do you guys have like
group training together?
that's kinda sus
the REAL karate kid
honestly it's kinda fun and chaotic
lotte
are we all gonna ignore the fact that
nobbs has photos of georgia's and leah's muscles?
door knob
are we just gonna keep referring
the imposter as imposter?
or if anyone's gonna ask her name?
the imposter
your name's nobbs??
LMAO THE DOOR KNOB MAKES SO
MUCH MORE SENSE NOW 😭💀
also
my name's y/n
neev
that is such a pretty name
the imposter
thank you!
elton
you know
you never really answered
lotte's question nobbs ....
willybum
it's because i'm her favourite duh
stairway
um it's actually me
hence why she sent a photo of mine first
meado
and here we go again
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
elton
oi
hello
@everyone
why is everyone so dead right now
earpsy
maybe it's the fact that we just finished training
the REAL karate kid
and because we actually have lives
elton
that's a lie and we all know it
the imposter
how was training?
neev
tiring
feeling quite dead rn
willybum
funny actually
lessi slipped and slammed
face first into the training mat
elton
that was the highlight of my day
the REAL karate kid
glad to know my misery
causes you guys happiness
rusty metal
guys
i stumbled upon the best photo ever
my eyes have been blessed
stairway
omg
bronzy in her active era??
daily
ooh do show
lotte
it's intrigued my interest now too
rusty metal
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neev
LMAO
willybum
WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS
the REAL karate kid
CRYING RN 😭💀
elton
STOP 😭
this is a masterpiece
i'm saving this
stairway
she's a barbie gurl 💅
earpsy
PLS 💀
willybum
i'm blocking yall
stairway
your eyes just can't handle this much art
the imposter
hello friends of y/n!
i was trying to take photos of y/n
and accidentally clicked into here
neev
hello friend of y/n
the imposter
WHAT IS THAT PHOTO OF LEAH WILLIAMSON 😭
is this some kind of football fan cult??
some of your usernames are familiar in a strange way
idk why i can't seem to place it
elton
hmm quite strange
don't you all agree?
stairway
hmm very strange indeed
brightness
yes
daily
indeed
willybum
very
the REAL karate kid
where's y/n?
the imposter
standing in front of me
has no clue i'm on this chat
i'll send a photo
hang on
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(lets just pretend they can see your face in the photo)
now she wants her phone back
goodbye strange strangers
elton
......
stairway
......
willybum
......
the REAL karate kid
......
neev
......
rusty metal
......
brightness
......
daily
......
doorknobs
......
meado
......
kie
......
earpsy
......
maya
......
lotte
......
lauren 1
......
stairway
the whole chat rn:
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elton
i was not expecting this today-
the REAL karate kid
toone, this is literally the best
most dumbest thing you've done-
neev
honestly
lotte
my eyes have been blessed twice today
willybum
wow
the REAL karate kid
you can get my number wrong
anytime toone
part four here
568 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 6 months
Note
I’m really missing nurse!Steeb x pregnant reader lately, what have they been up to??🥺
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AN | I love Nurse!Steeb and his clumsy girl! Besides being pregnant, again, things are as chaotic as always in the Harrington household! 💕
Warnings | Mild Language, Pregnant!Reader
Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Guess what,” you walked into your bedroom, inadvertently scaring Steve who had been reading intently. He yelped slightly as you offered him an apologetic grin and got into bed next to him, “sorry babe. But guess what!”
“What's up?” He set his book on his night stand before reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.
“I'm twelve weeks today,” it took him a moment to put together what you were saying but as soon as he did, his entire face lit up, “I think its time we told people, what do you think?”
“Yes. Yes,” he agreed eagerly. He'd been wanting to tell people since the day you told him you were pregnant but also understood why you had wanted to wait, “I can't wait to tell everyone. They're going to be so excited.”
“And what about you, Steve Harrington?” You clutched his hand tightly before bringing it to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “are you excited? Truly?”
“Of course I am,” he scoffed sweetly as you relaxed, giving him an innocent shoulder shrug, “you know you don’t ever have to question that, sweetheart. I’ve been dying to tell everyone, but I know you wanted to wait. Which totally makes sense.”
“I was just worried,” you whispered softly, “I didn’t want anything to go wrong. I’m really glad it didn’t. I’m excited too.”
“I can’t believe I’ve got you, Cami, and now another baby,” his smile stretched from ear to ear as your face lit up, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“What if I get weird cravings in the middle of the night?” When you were pregnant with Cami, there hadn’t been anything too crazy, but you wanted to be prepared. And you didn’t want to annoy Steve - not that you would ever be able to do such a thing, especially when you were pregnant, “what if I complain all the time? What if I can’t sleep? What if you get annoyed with me? What if Camila doesn’t want-”
“Hey,” he put a finger gently to your lips in order to tenderly cut off any more of your doubt, “I will never get tired of you. You know that. And even if all those things happen, we’ll get through them and I’ll try my best to help you. And I have a feeling that Camila will be very excited for a brother and sister.”
“How can you be sure?”
“She’s been talking about how some of her friends have little brothers and sisters that she thinks it’s really cool,” that made you feel immediately better, “trust me, she’ll be excited.”
“So we’re all excited?” you hadn’t realized a few tears had rolled down your cheeks until Steve gently wiped them away. You reached up and held his hand to your face, offering your husband a misty-eyed smile.
“We’re all excited,” he confirmed as he brushed his thumb along your cheek, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Mama?” Camila's small voice cut through your internal monologue as you shifted your gaze to find her watching you with a worried expression on her little face, “what's wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” you wiped the tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, motioning for her to come over. She padded over and crawled onto the couch next to you, “I'm just feeling a little sad.”
“Why are you feeling sad?”
“There was a commercial with a really cute dog,” you sniffled as she looked at you in confusion, “I know it doesn't make any sense. When you're pregnant your hormones go all crazy and sometimes even happy things can make you cry.”
“Oh,” she considered what you were saying before shaking her head, “I don't think I could ever do that. What's the point?”
“Well, baby, that's how Daddy and I ended up with you. And I'm pretty glad we did,” you pulled her into your lap and pressed a kiss to the top of her dark curls, “and that's how we're going to end up with your brother or sister.”
“Daddy thinks I'll get a sister,” she grinned at you, a gap toothed little smile that you adored more than anything, “what do you think?”
“I think you're getting a little brother,” you whispered softly, “but we're just going to have to wait and see.”
“How much longer?!”
“Four months…ish,” you gently touched your ever-growing belly and sighed, “sometimes babies come a little early but it should be about four months.”
“I'm excited,” she said with wide eyes filled with wonder. She hesitantly reached over and touched your belly as well, “that's cool that they're in there. Does it hurt?”
“It doesn't hurt but sometimes it doesn't feel good,” and that was putting it lightly, “but it's worth It in the end.”
“I hope so,” she nodded solemnly before sliding off the couch and walking towards the kitchen, “can I have some ice cream?”
“Camila Mae,” you slowly stood up and walked after her, “only if you promise to share!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Steven Harrington,” you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, raising an eyebrow at him, “my eyes are up here.”
“Baby,” he huffed, his eyes turning a pretty shade of pink. He had not so discreetly looking at your chest and your belly, “its not fair. You're so hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. All of it.”
“Please,” you rolled your eyes at him before gently pushing his chest, “I'm five months pregnant. I'm hardly anything but a beach ball.”
“You're gorgeous,” he insisted, settling his large hands on your waist as he pulled into him and pressed a kiss to your lips, “plus the bathing suit you're wearing? Fuckin’ killing me.”
“Steve,” you squeaked softly as your entire face warmed up, “you just like it when I'm pregnant.”
“I like you always,” he insisted sweetly, “but there is something about you being pregnant that drives me crazy. And that way everyone knows you're mine.”
“I'm all yours,” you agreed, biting the inside of your cheek, “I love you, Stevie.”
“I love you, baby,” he grinned, “so much-”
“Daddy! Mama!” Cami sounded so adorably annoyed as the two of you looked over at her. She was motioning towards the pool, clearly ready to get into the water, “stop being so gross!”
“Yeah Daddy,” you nudged him towards your daughter, “stop being so gross and hitting on Mama.”
“Stop,” he groaned softly, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “you're doing to be the death of me, I hope you know.”
“So dramatic,” you snorted in amusement, “go have fun and keep our kid from drowning!”
“And you put on plenty of sunscreen,” he insisted pointing at the bag you had packed, “join us when you're ready.”
“I will,” you smiled softly, already feeling some tears welling up. It seemed like everything made you cry these days. It was just one of the many perks of being pregnant, “go have fun. I'll keep an eye on this kid.”
You could hear Steve laughing as he went over to Camila. Her entire little face lit up as her father picked up her and threw her over his shoulder to climb into the pool. It was still crazy sometimes to think that these two people were your favorite people in the entire world.
“And you're pretty special too,” you sat down, slowly of course, on your beach chair and rubbed a hand over your belly, “I can't wait to meet you. You've got a while lot of love waiting for you, just so you know.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You groaned as you walked through the front door and closed it slowly behind you. It had been a long day, and one of the few that you had to work later into the evening. By the time you got home, the Harrington household was already quiet for the evening. 
“Hi honey,” Steve was at the door and already reaching for your bag before you could even wonder where he was. You relaxed as you melted into him, gladly taking the kiss he offered you, “let me help.”
You weren’t even going to bother arguing with your husband. He set your bag down in its usual spot before taking your coat and helping you slip off your shoes. When he was done, you instantly felt better. He reached for your hand and slowly led you to the kitchen, “thanks Stevie.”
“You’ve had a long day, it’s the least I can do,” you sat down at the kitchen table and let out a large sigh, running a tired hand over your belly, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling like I’m very pregnant,” you huffed with a small laugh as you watched him put together a plate of food from dinner. He caught your eye and gave you a soft smile, “I can’t believe there’s still like months of this left.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing a fantastic job,” he set the plate down in front of you and pressed a kiss to your head before grabbing a drink from the refrigerator. He set it down next to your plate before sitting down next to you, “I don’t think I could ever do it. I mean…growing a whole human is crazy.”
“I agree,” you took a big bite of the warm, delicious food, savoring the flavor before swallowing, “and I’m the one doing it. But I know it’ll be worth it. Blob number two will be worth it, just like Cami was.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked with a hearty laugh, as you offered him a big smile.
“Never,” you promised, “not even if we have another kid in the future. I’m telling you, they look like blobs on the ultrasound and you can’t even say I’m wrong. I mean, you’re a nurse! You gotta admit they just look like blobs more than anything else.”
“I’m going to agree with you because you’re my wife and pregnant,” he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, playfully narrowing his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “I know better than to argue with my pregnant wife. Whom I love very much.”
The sweet tone in his voice caused you to soften as you set down your fork, “I love you too, Steve. So much.”
“I know,” he gently nudged his foot with yours, “is there anything else I can do for you? Whatever you need. Bubble bath?”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” you agreed, “I feel like even my bones are tired. They could use a good soak.”
“And then you can tell me all about your day,” he insisted as you nodded at him.
“But only if you tell me all about yours,” you replied, “and Camila’s. I’m sure the two of you got up to no good.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” and that told you enough to know that the two of them definitely got into something, “we’re practically angels.”
“Shut up,” you laughed at him, shaking your head in amusement, “that’ll be the day. But luckily, I love and want to keep you both around.”
“I want you around too,” he stood up and slowly stretched before reaching for your hands, “do you want seconds first or bath now?”
“Bath now,” you let him take your hands and help to hoist you to your feet, “dessert later?”
“Dessert - “ he paused for a moment as you raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to put together what you were actually insinuating, “oh. Oh. Y-yeah, we can do that. Definitely.”
“Come on then,” you tilted your head towards the upstairs, “how often do we get this much peace, quiet and alone time?”
“Almost never,” he agreed, “you’re right. Let’s go.”
Needless to say, things were as hectic and chaotic as ever in the Harrington household.
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wolfish-trickster · 3 months
Text
I'm sorry, I can't choose you
Gojo x fem!reader, Geto x fem!reader
Part 5
Previous part
Word count: 1.8K
Summary: Gojo and you had a talk, he's still hoping you'll go back to him while you are fighting your own battles. Geto found out you knew about his crush and is also fighting a similar battle to yours.
Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort
A/N: I'm sorry the update took so long 😭 I was super busy with studying for finals BUT I finally passed all seven of them today so, as promised, here is another chapter. Will start working on another one to release it as soon as possible to make up for the time there wasn't any. Thank you for waiting and enjoy the reading <3
Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @tqd4455 @nanao4k @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @username23345 @www-kiana-mp3 @wirwirfr @rjt017 @yu-87 @mars-is-here @yozora7154
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To say the atmosphere in Shoko's house was depressing was an understatement. Gojo was paler than his hair, practically no soul behind his eyes. You weren't any better. You were so tired. Mentally and physically drained. This entire situation took a huge toll on you, both of you. The only thing you wished for right now was to get out on the fresh air and not think about any of this anymore, yet you were too scared to even move.
A key scratched against the keyhole. The door handle jiggled. Both of you looked at the front door, awaiting some sort of a judge to close the case and release both of your from this misery.
Geto's huge body nearly blocked the entire door frame. He was breathing heavily as if he sprinted here. Maybe he did. You didn't care why. He was a saviour either way.
"I'm done talking to you Gojo," you whispered while still looking at Geto, hoping he would take him away, to his home or for a drink or somewhere. Didn't matter where. Just gone.
Instead he walked towards the table and stood infront of both of you. "Are you done talking?" he said inbetween heavy breaths.
"I am," you said.
"I'm not."
"Gojo. We. Are. Done."
"That's not just for you to decide!"
"Satoru," Geto interrupted before you could open your mouth, "you talked, that's what you wanted, right? Now, do as you promised and go home. I need to talk with her too."
Gojo's eyes filled with hope behind his shades. His best friend is a true saviour. He will convice you to give him another chance. Suguru always had a way with words, was sophisticated and always knew how to convice others to do his bidding. Besides, Suguru's foolish riding was the reason why the two of you started talking in the first place. Once a matchmaker...
Without a word Gojo stood up from his chair, put it back in its place, took one last sad look at you, your tired face, glassy eyes, hair a mess. He couldn't help but reach out to touch you one last time. He wiped a dried tear from your face. "I'm sorry. I know it's late to say it but I want you to know."
Once his back faced you he looked at his best friend and gave him a grateful smile. Gojo mentally thanked Geto for stepping in and helping him clean up his mess before he walked towards the front door. Once the front door closed Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his manbun.
"Well, I guess you know what I wanted to talk with you."
You genuenly had no idea. It only now downed on you who you were in one room with. Geto Sugur. Also known as the reason behind your break up with your ex boyfriend, a best friend to said ex and also a man who has had a crush on you ever since you met both him AND your afore-mentioned ex. And he wants to talk with you. Yup, the universe has a pretty twisted sense of humor.
"I have few theories..." you said carefully.
"Does any of them involve this?" He said and held his phone infront of your face for you to read. It was the chat from last night. Oh.
You squirmed in your seat and looked away.
Geto smiled more to himself than to you. "I guess you must be pretty uncomfortable right now."
"A little," you admitted.
"Well don't be," he reassured you, " I didn't come here to ask you out." As much as he wanted to.
As soon as he realized it was you talking to him last night his chest swelled with hope. He ran like he never did back to Shoko's house. The closer he got the more excited he felt. Until his conscience woke up. It beat him up internally. How dare you, it said. You try to convice the whole world you're a good person by not wanting to hurt your best friend and yet now you're hoping that girl will fall into your arms because she accidentally found out you love her? How stupid can you be?! Did you even think about how Satoru might feel?
Yes, he did. He thought of it every night when he caught himself daydreaming about you. How a life by your side might look like. He knew he was only hurting himself more but he had no idea how else to deal with all these feelings. Was he really willing to keep his word to not date you even if you and Gojo break up? He wanted to. God he really did. But the temptation to woo you and finally have you in his arms.
You're a cruel monster, his conscience yelled at him again. You don't deserve her, nor Satoru.
He never hated himself more than when he slammed the door open. He saw both of you sitting there looking like a total mess. His conscience screamed at him, he screamed back, but ultimately his voice just wasn't loud enough.
"Can I ask how long?" your soft voice interrupted his stream of thoughts.
"How long what?"
"You know..."
"How long have I had a crush on you?"
You nodded.
"Do you remember when all four of us hung out and we came across a lost kid?"
Nod again. How could you forget. It was the first day your heart sped up when you looked at Gojo.
Geto leaned his lower half against the kitchen table, still not looking at you. "You were so adorable helping that little kid. Reasuring him, wiping his tears, holding his hand while searching for his dad. You were so gentle and I just wanted to protect you in this cruel world. But that role fell on Satoru," his smile vanished, "and as you can see he majorly fucked up."
Your chest hurt. Poor Geto. Even though he was the source of Gojo's absence you now knew he had no idea. He was innocent in this mess and you were wrongfully angry at him for stealing your boyfriend away from you. And after hearing this you felt a huge urge to apologize to him.
So you did.
"I'm so sorry Geto."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Well, at least now you know."
"Did Gojo know?"
Geto gave you a deadpan look. "Would I still be alive if he did?"
You frowned in confusion. "Yeah? I mean, he was never the jealous type."
He chuckled. "Him? Not the jealous type? Please, he got all pouty even when a stray cat responded to my 'pstpstpst' and completely ignored him."
"But," you blinked. This information was new to you. "Whenever I spoke with a male colleague he was super chill. Once I even played a prank on him to see his jealousy level but he had no reaction. None at all."
Geto hummed but didn't say anything. He had some theories about this, one worse than another, but to spare you more wounds on your heart he kept quiet.
He shook his head. "Whether he got rid of his jealousy or not, can you still please keep it to yourself? The man's a mess as it is, if he found out it would crush him."
"Sure," you said and rubbed his arm a little. "I really am sorry."
He smiled and gently shook your hand off of him. Your touch has always been pleasant to him but now that his ugly little secret is out it was more painful than walking barefoot on bunch of blades. "It's okay. You did nothing wrong. I should be the one to apologize."
Your comforting being rejected hurt a little, you weren't even sure why. "Apologize for what? You can't help feeling certain things towards someone," change of subject to take your mind off of him rejecting your touch and possibly going to thoughts you weren't ready for yet.
"True, but," he got quiet for a while. "I'm still sorry."
You smiled at him reassuringly. "I don't know if it will make you feel better but I'm sure you'll find someone much better than me. You're kind, smart, level headed, your heart is in the right place. There will be bunch of girls wanting you in the future."
"Kinda sucks that the only girl I want is the ex of my best friend."
Your heart ached. If only Suguru was someone completely foreign to Gojo you would've- NO. No way. Even if you could see a million green flags in this man when compared to your ex he's still the best and possibly only friend of said ex. You can't even think about getting together with him. Why were you thinking that in the first place?!
"Well," Geto straightened up and looked at you for the first time. You hated how your heart skipped a beat when his purple eyes met yours. "To spare us more heartache and embarassment I'll be going now."
Without thinking you reached out and grabbed onto his sleeve stopping him from leaving.
Nobody dared to move. Both of you had the same question on your mind: why did you do that?
In the end without turning around Geto whispered. "Please," his voiced cracked, "don't give me hope. It hurts so much as it is right now."
Only then you realized in how much more pain he must be right now. His position in all of this was way worse than yours. You let his sleeve go.
"I'm sorry," you whispered. If you spoke any louder your voice would crack too.
Geto didn't respond. All he did was quietly walk out.
Neither of you noticed the crown of white hair outside the opened kitchen window.
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whumpy-bi · 1 year
Text
Rescuers/medics bringing in a more “emotionally aware” member of their crew to talk to a recently rescued Whumpee, who has spent the past few days lashing out and refusing any treatment.
They’re crouched behind their bed when Caretaker walks in, wide eyes watching them intently. They know Caretaker can see them—the bed is giving them a sense of security, Caretaker figures, a barrier between them and anyone else.
Caretaker keeps their voice soft, but loud enough that Whumpee can hear them. “Hey,” they start.
“You’re Whumpee, right?” They only nod to themself, knowing the answer. “I’m Caretaker…” They notice the apprehension in Whumpee’s stare.
“I’m not a medic, don’t worry. I just want to talk to you, would that be okay?”
Whumpee finally nods. Good, an acknowledgment.
Caretaker slowly lowers themselves to their knees, stopping at eye level with Whumpee. Notably, they hadn’t attempted to come any closer, nor attempted to move Whumpee from behind the bed.
“I heard you were a little upset this morning. Is that true?”
Finally, a verbal response.
“Yeah.”
“I heard you got pretty angry, with the medic. That true, too?”
“…Am I in trouble?”
Caretaker shakes their head, resting their hands on their knees. “No, not at all. I just want to understand what happened. Do you know why you were angry?”
“…No. I just didn’t want them near me.”
They hummed in thought. “Well…I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to sleep since we brought you here.”
Whumpee was silent, but frowned.
“I know I always feel pretty crappy when I can’t sleep. I get angrier than I mean to. Do you think maybe that’s why?”
“…Maybe.”
“Well, that’s alright. I can help you figure out how to get some sleep, we can talk about that too. But do you remember specifically why you lashed out at the medic today? What did—“
“He grabbed me. I don’t want people to grab me. He wouldn’t stop grabbing me.”
Caretaker nodded again, shifting their jaw as they listened. “That makes sense. I probably wouldn’t like that, either. What if he asked to touch you, before he did?”
Whumpee was silent again, but they quirked their head to the side. Considering.
“I’m sure we can all do that, asking to do things. We can tell you what we’re doing, before we do it. So you know how we’re helping you. Would that help? I think that’d be a lot less frustrating.”
Whumpee mumbled, now. They’d come closer to the other side of the bed.
“Maybe, yeah.”
Caretaker smiled warmly. “That’s good, I can tell them that. Now…I wanna help you get some sleep. I think that’ll help you feel a lot better, too.”
They watch Whumpee quietly as they climb back onto the bed, careful not to move too quickly themselves.
“Is it hard to sleep in here?”
No answer again. Caretaker glances over to the window.
“It’s pretty bright outside, isn’t it? Even with the parking lot lights at night. I can get some heavier curtains, if you’d—“
“It’s hot.” Whumpee’s voice is barely there, a hushed mumble.
Caretaker’s eyebrows raise, their expression a relieved smile. This was good.
“Yeah? I can’t sleep if it’s too warm, either. Here, I can…” They very slowly rise to stand, keeping eye contact with Whumpee as they do so. “I can lower the temperature, that’ll help a lot. I’ll just make it a little cooler in here…I can make sure you have water at night, too. Nice cold water.”
Whumpee watches them closely as they adjust the temperature, less apprehensive than before.
Caretaker suppresses a chuckle at Whumpee’s expression. “You look pretty tired, Whumpee. You wanna try sleeping again?”
“…Maybe.”
They let Caretaker help adjust them into a sleeping position, leaving the blanket by their ankles for now. As Caretaker goes for the light switch, Whumpee calls out one more time.
“Will you come back?”
“Sure I will, Whumpee. I’ll check on you a lot, you can ask for me whenever you want. Why?”
“I…liked talking to you.”
“I liked talking to you, too, Whumpee.”
Whumpee’s prolonged nap that day was the best sleep they’d had in months.
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marzipanandminutiae · 24 days
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Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!
That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).
Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.
Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.
(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)
(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)
tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."
Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!
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Text
Soothing words and decaf
Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot
When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes
You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious  had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern. 
“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.
You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.” 
He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes. 
“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up. 
You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold. 
Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day. 
You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.
Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar. 
You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.
“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice. 
You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”
A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.” 
“Seriously you both should-” 
“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks. 
You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.” 
Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.
Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are. 
You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.” 
Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed. 
“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.
“You’re squishing me, you big menace!” 
The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “ 
Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.” 
“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to. 
You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch. 
“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.
“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach. 
You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.
@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy
@gojoest
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crabonfire · 7 months
Text
sick mercs (1/3)
characters: offense class
warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)
note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u
no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf
reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3
♡Scout♡
•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...
•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.
•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.
•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.
"I'm not sick, okay?"
But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.
The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.
"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.
• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.
But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.
• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.
"You care about me...haha."
"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"
You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.
♡Soldier♡
• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.
"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"
• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.
Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.
"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."
"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"
You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"
He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.
"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"
He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"
He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."
You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;
"Fine."
• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.
You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.
You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.
"Thanks, cupcake."
• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.
He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.
♡Pyro♡
• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.
The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.
They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.
"Pi? You okay?"
You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.
"What's wrong?"
• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.
"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."
They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"
• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.
"Pi, I think you might have a fever."
They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)
You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.
• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.
You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.
"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."
You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.
"Do you want me to leave?"
In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;
"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)
"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."
That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.
That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.
"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?
• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.
Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.
It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.
Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.
♡♡♡♡
I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!
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yopossum · 1 month
Text
My first of two fics for @burntheedges and her Roll-a-Trope Writing Challenge! For this I picked Javi G and rolled the “stuck in an elevator” trope. Wheeeee!!!
To Make a Day for You
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Main Masterlist
Pairing: Javi G x female reader
Rating: M
Warnings: 18+ only! Language, fluids, capitalism, working in service positions and hospitality
———————————————————————————
God, this shift was never ending.
You trudged to the elevators and punched the up arrow, dreading the nightmare that awaited you on the fourth floor.
We need a preliminary check-out hazard assessment prior to clean on the Bacchus Suite. Guests noted the presence of “some various fluids” on multiple surfaces and potential smoke damage.
Always the fucking Bacchus Suite. Why they named it that, added a full bar, and then carpeted the room, you’d never know. And now it was your job to see what the most recent rockstar oozed where.
You stepped into the first elevator that opened, nobody else waiting to join, and you were feeling grateful to have at least a few private moments of calm before the storm when a large bronzed hand bearing an expensive-looking watch reached into the gap between the closing doors.
“Excuse me, thank you so much,” exhaled a voice with a smooth Spanish accent. The voice was followed by a man, broad and tanned, looking harried and apologetic and extremely wealthy in a powder blue suit. He went to press the fourth floor button, and upon seeing it already lit, ran that large hand through the waves of glossy brown hair on his head and winced out a smile. His eyes were soft and warm, a rich deep cocoa, and they crinkled at the corners.
You were annoyed at his presence, but such was life. Especially in service positions.
“Of course, sir!” you chimed, feigning cheer the way all good hospitality workers must.
“I am sorry I have intruded on your ride. I am sure you must tire of interacting with guests. I will not insist on your attention...” The man glanced at your name tag, added your name to his apology. He smiled again, more easy, and bowed slightly, before stepping back against the wall and clasping his hands at his waist.
Ah, well. That was nice, at least. Usually riding the elevator with hotel guests resulted in a barrage of complaints and requests, generally almost none of which you were capable of addressing or responsible for, which was no concern of the guests or of management. Smile, nod, apologize, agree, lather, rinse, repeat.
This guest also smelled incredible, you noted as his scent drifted in the enclosed space. Citrus, vanilla, fresh and warm and masculine. Maybe you could cling to the sense memory in your nostrils as you faced down whatever horrors existed in the Bacchus Suite. Of course you’d forgotten your Vicks at home today. Swipe of it under the nose, a trick you’d learned from a mortician, one that had, unfortunately, proved very useful in luxury hotel housekeeping. You tried to will the guest’s cologne to somehow weave itself into your nose hairs.
———
As the elevator moved past floor 3, the lights flickered.
Huh.
As the digital display panel flashed, the elevator suddenly lurched to a stop, sending you toppling into the handrail. The guest’s hand flew to your upper arm to steady you, then quickly retreated.
“Are you okay? Were you hurt?” the man asked, eyes quickly scanning you for any obvious injuries.
Were you? No, you determined after a quick mental inventory. “I’m fine, thank you. Are you alright, sir?” You straightened up, brushed your uniform shirt down into place, slipping back into your customer service mask.
“I, too, am fine. I was simply startled.” He pursed his full lips thoughtfully. “I do not believe this is how elevators are meant to work, however.” He frowned up at the lights, now dimmer than before.
“Uh, no, not… not typically, no. I am sure it will be resolved soon. I apologize for the inconvenience, sir.” You leaned over to press the service button, which did nothing.
He waved his palm dismissively. “Please, no ‘sir.’ I am Javi. And I do not think elevator maintenance falls within your purview, no?” He grinned, turning to you. He had a dimple.
You chuckled. “It does not, sir. Javi. Still, on behalf of the hotel…”
“You do not need to speak on behalf of the hotel to me. No pasa nada - do not worry, please.” He placed his hand back on your arm, gave it a gentle squeeze before releasing. “I do not hold you accountable, my new friend, for the failures of either man or machine.”
“I appreciate that, very much,” you said softly. “Sorry, it’s unusual for guests to be so… understanding. They’re generally—,”
“—terrible assholes?” he finished, eyebrows raised and eyes glinting with a spark of mischief.
You laughed. “Technically I’m on the clock, so no comment.” He chuckled and winked knowingly. The two of you resumed your wordless standing for some time.
Eventually, the guest, Javi, slid his back down the elevator wall until he sat on the floor, luxurious fabric of his suit rumpled without a care, his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. “You will join me, perhaps? While we wait for our knight in a shining toolbelt?”
You glanced down at him. “Join you on the ground, you mean?”
“Where else is there to go?” He had a point. You sat down.
“So, Javi. What brings you to the hotel? Business or pleasure?” You pulled your legs to your body to sit criss-cross, bracing your elbows on your knees and resting your chin on a fist.
Javi grinned. “Both, I hope, or perhaps neither. I wish to make a new film — that is what I do, I make movies — and if the studio will agree, then I will celebrate. If the studio does not agree, I suppose I will not be working or playing.”
He tilted his head back and folded his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and smiling in the direction of the ceiling. “Either way, it has been a worthwhile trip, I think.”
“Wow! So, you like to travel then?” you asked.
“Sí, but more than that, I enjoy meeting new people. Making friends. And I have done that today, and so, I consider my visit to be a success. Would you agree?” He looked over and cocked his head, eyes wide and bright, like a charming puppy.
Your face warmed. “I guess I would. I’d much rather make a friend than clean up another disgusting hotel room.” You shook your head, then remembered yourself. “Sorry. That’s my job, I know. I don’t want to be rude.” Thank god you’d forgotten your walkie in the break room. You could’ve called for help by this point, sure, but you also could’ve gotten yourself fired with the accidental press of a button.
Javi shushed you affectionately. “I will not hear these sorries. We are simply having a conversation, as friends do, are we not? You may be true to yourself with me. I would prefer it if you do.” He slid a thumb over his lower lip, then scratched at his stubbled jaw before sighing.
“When you are a man such as me, one who is associated with riches and fame and power, people do not speak to you plainly. They tell you, instead, what they think you would like to hear. What they believe may win them your favor. It is… rather difficult.” He hummed. “The more I am known, the less I am known. Does this make sense to you, what I am saying?”
“Yeah, it does.” You bit your lip and nodded. “It really does. That sounds really isolating. Lonely.”
“It can be, yes,” he confirmed quietly. “I love movies. Making films was my greatest dream, and I am very grateful for the chance to do it, and for the privileges I have had, though they did not come without their own challenges.”
He laced his fingers together and sat his hands on his thighs. “But part of what I love about movies is how they can connect people together. It is ironic, maybe, that making movies has resulted in fewer connections for me.”
“In that case, I’m glad the elevator got stuck, then. I’m enjoying the chance to connect with you, Javi,” you said declaratively.
With impeccable cosmic timing, all the lights of the elevator went dark, save for a thin emergency strip, glowing red along the edge of the floor.
———
Well. You thought for a moment. “Javi?”
His voice swam easily through the darkness. “Sí, I am here.” You focused on the red glow to try and make out the shape where he sat.
“I think this is the best day of work I’ve had in years,” you shrugged with a snort.
Javi barked a loud laugh along with you, then slid a few feet closer along the floor to sit immediately beside you in the darkness.
“May I ask you something, my friend?” His voice was softer, husking around the edges a bit.
“Of course,” you replied, feeling something small and fuzzy and wriggly in your chest. The smell of his cologne washed over you, more concentrated with his proximity, almost as if it was your skin that bore it and not his.
“Will you tell me about your favorite movie?”
You were surprised at his question for a fraction of a second, but he asked so earnestly, you knew that, for your new friend Javi, the topic that others would probably regard as small talk was instead a precious, intimate thing.
“Yes, but don’t laugh.”
“I would never, you must know this. I will tell you one of mine first — it is Paddington 2.” You could only see the vague shapes of his face in the low light but it was clear that he was serious, and it filled you with adoration for your gentle and unpredictable new friend.
“I haven’t actually seen it,” you admitted.
“Oh, we will change this. We will watch it together someday,” Javi said with an authoritative clap of his hands. “If we are not entombed inside this elevator, of course,” he added.
“It’s a big if,” you acknowledged. “But yeah, I’d like that.”
“So.” You felt Javi’s shoulder press against your own, flush together. “I am dying to hear. Which is your favorite?” He was practically buzzing with anticipation.
“Babe,” you muttered, tucking your face into your hands with embarrassment.
Vision having adjusted somewhat, Javi clocked the movement and turned his broad shoulders to face you, grabbing both your hands in his and pulling them down.
“Why would you feel shame for this?! It is an incredible story of defying expectations and overcoming oppressive structures. The pig is a marvel, is he not?” He shook your hands with emphasis and continued breathlessly. “He teaches the other animals and humans of the farm to love, to respect one another, to see the inherent value in each other. It is a tribute to empathy! An ode to the triumph of the spirit! Oh, you have chosen well, querida.” The white of his teeth gleamed in the shadows when Javi beamed at you.
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Okay, THANK YOU. It’s so wonderful, right?! I’m so used to being teased about it, but I love it. Ugh, Farmer Hoggett is so…”
“Fuuuuuck. The song! Oh, I can feel my heart seize when I think of it. It is what I would want the next time I fall ill, somebody to sing that song for me. I suppose I could pay somebody to do so,” Javi mused, “but I think it would not have quite the same sentiment.”
“Javi, I promise that if we don’t die in this elevator, I will sing the song from Babe to you over the phone whenever you’re sick.” You turned his hands in yours, running your thumbs over his knuckles.
“And I will do the same for you. We must pinky swear it. Then our vow will be unbreakable.”
He hooked one pinky in the air between your bodies and waited for yours to join. You lifted your own and looped it with his, and Javi flexed his strong hand to squeeze the promise in extra tight.
“Good. It is agreed. Now, I am curious to know how a spirit that burns for such a piglet finds herself in such an establishment as this, cleaning up after unruly excess. Surely, it does not feed your soul.” Javi returned his hands to his own lap but tilted his head so it rested on your shoulder, his soft hair tickling against your cheek.
“Doesn’t feed my soul, no. Doesn’t feed my body very well, either. Pay is garbage, bills are always tight. My fridge has seen better days, for sure.” You huffed. “But, the hours are flexible. Sometimes I get tips. It’s whatever.”
“I wish for you to have more than ‘whatever’, querida,” intoned Javi, warm concern in his voice.
“Yeah, me too. Someday, hopefully.”
“Hmm.” Javi nuzzled slightly into your neck, and you wondered if he could feel your pulse pick up. “And if you were not working in this hotel, not burdened by your responsibilities, what would you like to be?”
“Besides a sheep-pig?” you smirked.
Javi patted your back with a giggle.
“I want to be a museum archivist,” you sighed. “I, uh, actually have two Masters degrees? History and Library & Information Science.”
“No! That is amazing!” Javi gasped at your side, lifting his head to gape at you.
“Thanks. It is… a lot of debt. And most archival positions require you to do a bunch of internships for experience just to get a foot in the door. Degree is a necessity but it doesn’t really mean anything in terms of getting a job. I couldn’t afford to pay back my loans and pay my bills while volunteering my time, and no paying jobs were willing to take a chance on me fresh out of school.” You laughed humorlessly. “Probably should’ve thought of that before I got the degree. But, I needed to do something, and this job was something. I’m able to volunteer at the Natural History Museum a few days a week with my schedule doing whatever they’ll let me.”
Javi was nodding along with your words as he listened. “I see, I see. And how long have you been doing this job instead of what you love?”
“Ah,” you hemmed. “Six, no, seven years?”
“And you have made progress on your loan payments?”
“Not really. If I work for a nonprofit or public employer, I could have my loans forgiven after 10 years of employment, but I’d have to be able to get the job first, and prospects are bleak. I don’t have savings either. Paying $1800 a month for a shoebox doesn’t leave much left over.” You allowed yourself to lean into Javi, your head slanting on top of his shoulder.
“Shit.” Tentatively, he reached his arm around your body. “This is okay, querida? For me to offer you this comfort?”
“It is, Javi. Thank you.” You snuggled into him, let his warmth seep into you, and sat in silence for a while. Time stretched lazily around you both, like a comfortable cat.
“You know what’s crazy? And sad, now that I think about it,” you said eventually. “In the seven years I’ve worked here, nobody has ever asked me about anything besides hotel shit or housekeeping. Not my bosses, not my coworkers. Definitely not any of the guests.”
“Then that is an injustice to you and a loss for them. Thank you for sharing yourself in this way with me. I feel very fortunate to have met and learned more of you.” You smiled against Javi’s torso and he cupped his palm around the base of your neck, thumbing the space behind your ear.
Suddenly, the elevator jerked, the lights blaring back on. You and Javi shielded your eyes from the blinding change. You exchanged glances as the display lit up once again, and Javi clambered to his knees, reaching out to give a testing press to the round 4 button.
———
The elevator rumbled and began to ascend.
“Oh, wow,” you said. “I kind of forgot this might eventually happen. Lost track of time, I’m not allowed to have my phone on me during shifts and I don’t wear a watch.” You stood up and shook out your tingling limbs.
Javi stood as well, straightening his suit and fixing his cuffs. “It has been…” He looked at his watch and squinted at the face. “It has been three hours.”
“Oh my god! Shit, I’m going to get reamed for not having that room cleared.” Panic and frustration started to gnaw at the corners of your and Javi’s peaceful vignette.
“But it is the fault of their elevator that you are delayed,” he reasoned.
“They won’t care, trust me. God, I wish I didn’t need this job as bad as I do.” You closed your eyes and took a breath, steeling yourself as the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and the doors slid open. For a moment, Javi hesitated, then exited before you and reached a hand back. You took it and let him lead you out of your shared could-have-been sarcophagus.
Wary of the hallway’s security cameras and what additional trouble you might find yourself in if your supervisors spotted you bothering the guests, you stepped further away from Javi’s body than you would’ve liked to be.
“I have to go to the Bacchus Suite, like, immediately,” you groaned, toeing at the carpet.
Javi tutted. “I am staying in the Fortuna Suite. If I leave a message for you at reception, will you receive it?” His face was drawn, but hopeful.
“Yeah, I definitely will. I… I really would like it if you did, Jav.” Your cheeks felt hot and you glanced down at your feet, looking up when you heard a shuffling to find Javi now standing inches from you.
“Nothing could keep me from leaving you a message, then. I think, probably, I will take the stairs this time,” he huffed a quiet laugh, his brow scrunching, his breath warm on your face. He moved closer, letting the strong curve of his aquiline nose nestle against your own, and you felt his long dark lashes flutter against your cheekbone.
“I would like to kiss you, before we part, if you would agree to it.” His voice was low, reserved, but run through with a gentle current of hunger. His hand slid around the back of your neck once more, as in the dark elevator, and he let his thumb stroke along the hinge of your jaw as he looked at you deeply, rich vanilla eyes heady with longing.
Fuck the security cameras.
You answered Javi by pressing your mouth firmly to his, lips slotting together effortlessly. He brought his other hand to hold your face, and you gripped around his biceps, fingers barely circling them, as you breathed in tandem. He opened his mouth against you, and you slipped your tongue to his, kissing deeply and languidly, losing yourselves in each other’s taste.
The other elevator dinged and you pulled apart as the doors opened, a bellboy with a luggage cart rolling his eyes at you both before turning down the hall.
“I have to go, Jav.”
“Okay. I will leave a message.”
Javi stepped back to you and kissed you once more, chaste and quick, and you waved your fingers at him and turned to hurry towards the room you were meant to be cleaning. He watched you go, his face flushed and his heart swelling, and when you’d disappeared around the corner, he walked to the stairwell and opened the door.
———
You stopped at the supply closet for a cart, gloves, trash bags, cleaning supplies, and a UV light (shudder), taking a few seconds to steady yourself, remind yourself you were about to go clean up possible biohazards for minimum wage after you’d spent the past few hours shut in a dark elevator with the most remarkable man you’d ever met, who kissed you like he needed you as much as he needed air.
Locking the closet behind you, you approached the suite. You steeled your nerves, puffed up your chest, and held the keycard up to the door latch.
Bink. The light flashed green and you pushed down the handle, ready for the worst.
It was worse than the worst.
After the wall of stench, the first thing you noticed was what appeared to be blue paint trailing from the door to the lounge, where a pool of cerulean was soaked into the cushions of the sofa. The curtains had been ripped from the wall, massive holes in the drywall where the rod had been, a fine layer of white dust settled over the drapes, which were crumbled on the floor. Every mirror was shattered, some bearing signs of lipstick and/or blood on their jagged edges. The stocked bar was trashed, cracked bottles dripping across the counter, glasses full of cigarette butts and unidentified liquids, sticky liquor puddled and syrupy on every available surface. The one bed you could see from where you stood had no mattress on it. You did not see the mattress. You were afraid to look at the bathroom.
The phone was ringing.
You sidestepped the paint splotches and tiptoed around broken glass to lift the receiver. “Housekeeping,” you said, peppy as was possible amid the destruction.
“We’ve had a guest request immediate assistance.”
“Okayyy,” you paused, curious why they were interrupting you about it. “I can do it after I finish assessing here.”
“The guest asked for you by name, and he does not wish to wait. He is a very valuable client of the chain, so we’ll reassign another housekeeper to the Bacchus. You can go straight to the other suite.”
“Oh! Which, uh, suite is that?” you asked, hoping for a particular answer.
“Fortuna.” You grinned.
“Okay, I’ll go right now.”
They hung up without saying another word, and you left the cart in the room and left as quickly as you could, trying not to skip as you rounded the corner and headed to the Fortuna, which sat on the other side of the elevator bank.
———
When you arrived, a little short of breath, you knocked twice and waited, bouncing slightly on your toes. There was no response.
You knocked again, louder this time, realizing you didn’t know Javi’s last name to call out to him and have it sound vaguely professional.
“Javi,” you said against the door, knocking once more and pressing your ear against it to listen for footsteps. Nothing. You pulled the master keycard from your pocket and passed it in front of the lock.
Bink. The green lights flashed, and you opened the door cautiously.
“Javi?” you called, stepping inside, but the room appeared to be empty. You walked through the lounge and peered into the bedroom, into the en suite, out on the balcony. Nothing. The bed was messily made, as if it had been straightened after being slept in, and the shower stall was damp, but otherwise you saw no evidence of Javi or anybody else, save for the faint ghost of his cologne lingering in the air.
What the fuck?
Your heart was sinking when you glanced at the console table and saw an envelope bearing your name in an even script. Before you could feel confused or angry or worried or any other emotion, you grabbed for it, then plunked yourself in an overstuffed armchair and opened. A folded piece of paper from the hotel’s branded memo pad fell out.
Inside the folded paper was a check. Your check. Or, rather, a check for you. Filled out in the same handwriting as the envelope. Made out for $50,000. From the personal account of Mr. Javier Gutierrez.
You thought you might faint, or cry, or puke, or drop dead. Activities better suited for the Bacchus Suite.
You turned your attention, somehow, from the check to the paper, seeing your name across the top of the paper below the hotel logo.
Querida,
Quit.
Your Friend,
Javi
P.S. I am outside. I am driving a silver Porsche convertible. No pressure. But I will wait here. - Javi
P.P.S. This is my phone number. It is okay if you do not call. Or come out to meet me. I just want you to have it. - Javi
P.P.P.S. In case you have received this letter later than I expected and you have been delayed by your cleaning duties, I have written this twenty-seven minutes past the moment you left me at the elevators. I do not want you to rush or to worry. If you have not appeared or called by evening I will wait in the parking lot overnight, just in case. The attendants are very easily distracted, it will not be difficult to hide. - Javi
P.P.P.P.S. I did not write you this check in the hope that you will want to pursue a romance with me. I wish for you to follow your dreams, even if they do not include me in them. We are practically strangers, after all, and I would understand. The money is yours, whatever you choose. My hope that you will also choose me is an entirely separate thing. Most of all, I desire for you to be happy, archiving all sorts of things that must be archived. I am certain you’ll do it very well. - Javi
P.P.P.P.P.S. I would like to kiss you again. - Javi
———
Ten minutes after reading Javi’s note, you were strolling out of the employee lockers, sunglasses and cell phone in hand and uniform abandoned on a bench. You paused at the schedule posted on the wall, used the Sharpie tied to a nail in the wall to drag a thick black line through your name on the calendar. Without fanfare, you waltzed out the front doors and climbed into the vehicle waiting for you in the valet loop.
“Did you drive?”
“Nope. No car - I take the bus.”
“Ah, just as well. I have many. I am happy to share.”
You turned to face the man in the driver's seat, his handsome face haloed by the sun as he looked fondly at you.
“That’s lot of money, Javier Gutierrez” you tsked.
“It is no hardship. You.. you will accept it, though? And, if I am lucky, you will accept… me?”
You laughed. “Yes. Both. I accept both. Happily.”
His eyebrows curled upwards and his lips pouted in an expression of blissful disbelief. “This is fantastic news, querida. And you quit?”
“And I quit,” you confirmed, and leaned across the console to continue the kiss that had been interrupted at the elevators, savoring this moment at the cusp of something beautiful.
Javi shifted his head, sat up slightly, and you tugged gently on his plump lower lip with your teeth as he pulled back just enough to lock his eyes with yours. Tears glistened at his waterline and you felt your own begin to well. He pressed his forehead to yours, nudged his nose against yours, and rubbed his hands down your arms before giving you a solid pat on the back and whispering against your skin:
“That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”
———
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Tagging the sprintos who cheered me on!!
@whocaresstillthelouvre @jennaispunk @goodwithcheese @ace-turned-confused @timelordfreya @maggiemayhemnj @beefrobeefcal @tinytinymenace
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captjprice · 8 months
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What about ghost with an s/o who's just as stoic and closed off (mostly with strangers but more open than him in a relationship) as he is and always looks so done with everything, mostly quiet and only gives one word answers or no answer at all, sarcastic or gives a side eye when someone makes a stupid comment and has a dark sense of humor but they're actually very sweet and gentle once you get to know them???:)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader
A/n: I am finally getting to requests ugh
Mentions: fluff, sfw, Simon is scared shitless by romance, angst(?????), but not really
Intimidated wasn't really the word Simon would use in this case, because Simon Riley did not get intimidated.
Yet, he felt a bit odd seeing you. He wasn't sure what to think of you. All of the others in the taskforce were like an open book— So open and friendly, so unlike him. And then there you were, cleaning your gun with an expression on your face that told everyone to promptly fuck off.
Price had noticed you weren't.. falling in the group that smoothly, just like Simon hadn't at first. He assured everyone you were a delight to work with.
Simon wasn't so sure of that, but still, he decided to join you, cleaning his gun as he sat down next to you. Kyle was rummaging around as well, eyeing you. "You two look extra jolly today," he snorts. You don't reply, only looking up at him with a glare. He seems to understand the message, clearing his throat and giving nod. Simon raises a brow, glancing over at you.
He wasn't sure why, but Simon was so incredibly intrigued with you— you barely spoke, and when you did, it was the kind of comment only you could laugh at, and occasionally Simon too. He didn't really notice it himself, but everywhere you were he wouldn't be far behind, trying to start conversation.
It was uncanny, how badly he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know everything about you, while ofcourse keeping himself at a safe distance.
The bar has flooded empty, leaving only you and some other taskforce members in a quiet booth. It's another late night of celebrations, and you, for once, haven't drunk yourself wasted. You gaze over the booth, watching the other men laugh, occasionally patting each others arm or back.
But Simon also seems to be sober, watching over the others with an almost tired look in his gaze. When your eyes meet, you give a soft smile. The others won't remember much of the evening, let alone you smiling at someone.
Your sudden expression makes Simon's eyes widen a little, especially because all you've been up to now was an isolated grump. He shifts, then gives a nod. When your eyes don't budge from him, he stands, awkwardly shuffling past the others to sit down next to you. "Awful lot, aren't they?" He asks gruffly. You give a nod, sipping your drink and clearing your throat. "And I thought it was bad when they were sober." You say, smiling. "Well, believe me, it can get even worse than this. This is only when they're tipsy." His words make you let out a hearty chuckle, and he smiles in amusement at it. You're not as half as bad as he thought you'd be.
"I have a feeling by the time they're completely drunk, I'll be at home nice and warm in my bed." You state, giving his arm a slight nudge. "Why's that? Not into celebrations?" Simon asks, his eyes focused on you. You shake your head. "I only drink if I want to be miserable." Now it's his turn to laugh, even though it's only a quiet chuckle.
That evening replayed in his mind, you had been so friendly, so approachable that he was wondering why he hadn't talked to you earlier.
"Hard at work, I see." You retort with a little chuckle, watching Simon gaze at the wall with unfinished reports in front of him. He clears his throat, looking at you. He'd get so lost in his head sometimes..
When he doesn't respond, you step closer. "You okay, Simon?" Your voice is so soft now, nothing compared to how you'd bark orders or remark comments sometimes. He gives a little nod, trying to ignore how his chest aches at your sweet tone. "Yeah." Simon glances at you, seeing you holding coffee. You'd made it a habit over some time now to bring him some whenever you could. "That for me?"
You nod, setting it down. "You should take a break, Si." The nickname makes him perk up. "Just not my day today. It's fine." Somehow, you don't really believe him. "Are you sure? I'm here for you. I'd like to think we're friends. Friends do that for eachother."
You're being too sweet, all of a sudden. What happened to you glaring at him, rolling your eyes? He shakes his head, waving you off. "It's fine. I have work to do."
He comes back to his barracks that evening to a little note from you, slid under the door with your number and a little heart on it.
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ugly-pickle · 9 months
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wait!- ☆ scara
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CHARACTERS: idol!scara x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: scara had always promised you that he will always love you and will always have time for you, but he never confirmed that hes a man of his word…
GENRE: angst 🦢 (comfort from another at the end)
W/C: 1.3k
C/W: cheating, moaning, hinting of intoxication, kissing, toxicity, and cussing (if theres anything that i missed let me know!)
A/N: a lot of people liked my previous post so it motivated me to make another! im still new at this so please keep that in mind if a few bits are off (IT’S REALLY REALLY REALLY CRINGY). most grammatical errors are also intentional!
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your boyfriend, scara, has a performance today and youre really excited. you received flowers, theyre beautiful. maybe this is an apology for the lack of affection and being more grumpy towards you lately, i mean to be an idol certainly is tiring, isnt it? so it makes perfect sense why he’s acting like this… right?
as always, he gave you tickets to his concert. you couldnt get the chance to say goodbye to him because he left so early in the morning, so youll make it up to him when you meet him backstage.
you got dressed and headed out the door, youre excited to see your beloved scara preform, because he looked happy while doing his job, you were excited to see his smile because… well, he doesnt smile at you anymore… but you quickly brush it off, i mean, being an idol is very stressful.
youve arrived, you tried to enter backstage but some bodyguard stopped you, “hey! what do you think youre doing missy?” you sigh, he must be new, “scara is my lover, i just want to see him,” you try to explain but the bodyguard cuts you off and says “thats what they all say,” he rolls his eyes. “no! really, i am!” you show the bodyguard a picture of you and scara together kissing, “oh” the bodyguard grunts, “so youll let me in?” you look up at him, he looks a bit uncomfortable, “well uhm… ive been given specific orders to not let you in… im sorry,”
“w-what?...”
you heard him loud and clear, the world around you begins to spin, but you quickly ground yourself by comforting yourself with false hopes. maybe hes just planning a surprise for you back there, i mean, it might explain why you got flowers, yea! that must be the reason… you hope.
you found your spot, perfect timing too! the concert begins, you see scara. you melt when you see a smile on his lips, he looks so happy. the crowd screams, theyre chanting 5wirl (the name of their group). venti, xiao, kazuha, heizou, and scara is greeting the audience with warms smiles and kind words.
after a while, the performance ends, it was quite long actually, but it felt so short, time does fly when youre having fun. you head to the backstage doors, hoping that the bodyguard lets you in this time. as you make your way to the backstage doors you see scara’s back in your peripheral vision. hes in a secluded place, he looks like hes trying to be hidden from the crowd, makes sense. you decide to scare him, as you get closer you can see a beautiful lady’s lips pressed against scara’s. you hear the sounds of kissing and soft moaning coming from them.
your heart shatters into a million pieces, it broke so bad that you swore you heard it make a shattering sound. tears fall down your face, youre so stunned that you cant even form words, instead, a pathetic whimpering sound escapes your lips. scara turns around to see where the strange sound is coming from.
his eyes widen a bit, but he immediately regains his composure. “stop crying like a baby and get over it, youre just a nuisance in my life,” now scara was just stomping all over your already broken heart. these simple actions somehow drained all of your energy, just standing was exhausting, not wanting to waste time or energy you give him an “ok,” and you turn around and leave.
you arrive at your shared apartment and decide to eat and rest for a little, so when he comes back you can properly confront him. but, he comes back the next day, hes wasted and the smell of sex is clinging onto him. he walks past you and immediately collapses on the couch and knocks out cold.
when he finally wakes up, youre making dinner. he remembers the encounter from last night. his eyes wander, wanting to look at anything but you. something in the trashcan catches his eye, the flowers. theyre pretty but it didnt come from him.
youve finished cooking, you see scara sitting at the table. you sit down, and placed your meal in front of you and you start to eat. “…what about mine?” scara asks you with a quiet voice. “oh wow, youre initiating a conversation with the nuisance. well, if you must know, that having to take care of you is quite tiring and ive realized that youre quite troublesome and it would be better if you werent in my life. so, kunikuzushi, im breaking up with you.”
hes taken aback when you use his birth name, “h-hey y/n, i didnt mean what i said yesterday… i regret it, it was just the heat of the moment,” he says, his voice trembling a bit. you sigh, “that still doesnt change the fact that you cheated on me, pack your bags and leave, this is my apartment after all,”
his trembling demeanour quickly turned aggressive, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LOVE AND TIME IVE SPENT ON YOU?” you scoff, “WHAT LOVE? WHAT TIME? SURE, YOUVE PROMISED ME THESE THINGS BUT HAVE YOU EVER FULFILLED IT? EVER SINCE YOU BECAME AN IDOL, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU CHANGED,”
the two of you are now yelling. “WELL, BEING AN IDOL IS TIRING, AND BEING BOUND TO ONLY YOU IS TIRING. ANEMO RESEMBLES FREEDOM, I CANT JUST BE BOUND TO YOU. A-AND SHE LOVES ME FOR WHO I AM” youre hurt, you stop yelling, “she loves you for who you are today, but will she when you have nothing?” “NO ONE LOVED ME WHEN I HAD NOTHING, WHEN I WAS NOTHING-“ “I FUCKING DID”
your voice begins to break, “i loved you when you had nothing, i was the one who helped you get back on your feet,” you sigh, hot tears now spilling down your face, “im gonna take a walk, and when i come back your things better be packed.” you leave the apartment, “you didnt even get to enjoy your meal,” he mumbles to himself. he begins to pack his things.
youre walking towards the park, youre tears making your cheeks glisten in the sunlight. you spot kazuha admiring the scenery, hes sitting down on a bench with a pen and notebook in hand, you assume he was making song lyrics or a haiku. you walk up to kazuha and wipe away your tears, “u-uhm hey kazu,” you sit down beside him. “oh hey y/n! nice seeing you here!” his voice is warm and comforting.
“im surprised that you arent swarmed by paparazzi yet,” you giggle, “me too, the quiet is very relaxing. my day has become better now that youre here. wheres scara?” you can feel your eyes watering up “we broke up… he cheated on me,” kazuha hugs you, patting your back, tears are now falling down your face. “you dont deserve that, you really dont, youre one of the most amazing people that i know.”
tip tap tip tap tip tap
you hear the sound of footsteps running, it’s probably someone jogging. kazuha tucks your hair behind your ear while looking you in the eyes.
“WAIT!-“
kazuha presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. you turn your head to see who had just called out, it was scara, he was standing there in shock, tears slipping down his face. “YOU BITCH KAZUHA,” scara yells at him. the bouquet of flowers you threw out earlier was now in his hands. “YOU LIKE Y/N, DONT YOU? YOU HAVE HER THESE FLOWERS, RIGHT?” scara scoffs, “and what if i do? theres no harm in having a crush, unlike cheating on your lover. and, i did give those flowers to her, so what?”
scara turns to you “b-baby you still love me right? a-and not this bastard, right?” his voice seems desperate, “kunikuzushi i-”
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A/N: UHMM I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END THIS- I AT LEAST TRIED LOL ┐༼ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°༽┌
(ngl i wanna make a part 2 because the ending was so messy ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º· )
TAGLIST @justaxiaosimp @mommykukki @xdrin @midnight-pluto @boomie-123 @scaramochies @dnsuhwr874y @hopefulceladon @yukinenikora @akusiapaakudimana @mai-yay @uhfhfhfhf
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wonwooslibrary · 9 months
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svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition
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member: joshua x reader genre: established relationship, bullet points word count: 738 summary: joshua's boyfriend things ;) warnings: mentions of food and i think that's it! let me know if i missed anything! author's note: y'all i am almost two whole days late with this oh god it keeps getting worse. i am...very tired haha i've been working a lot to build up some money while i'm not in school so yeah. i lowkey forgot about joshua/taehyung day until i opened twitter and saw people talking abt shua and i was like WAIT THAT IS TODAY anyway moral of the story i'm tired and need a break but here is the joshua fic we've all been waiting for! ily all and enjoy <3
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He lowkey gives the vibes of like. The foreign exchange student bf with a relationship with a deadline 
He’s the silly bf!!! 
He’s also one of the members I see the least as a boyfriend so this is going to be interesting to write…
Quality Time 
Mans is a fan of everything fr !!! He absolutely loves spending time with you and your shared group of friends 
Loves doing silly little activities with you like making bracelets and painting 
He might just be the artsy bf we all want 
Joshua loves to go to different places with you like thrift stores, arcades, cafes, literally anything as long as he is with you <3
Loves the feeling of mixing his friend groups - the day you meet his friends aka his brothers he will be imploding with love for everyone 
Is the “i get bored easily” bf so y’all gotta be doing like ten different things at once 
Will totally ask you to dance or just close your eyes and be with him when a slow song comes on at a party / get together / playing music at home 
Words of Affirmation
You totally call him Joshy or Shua and he loves every minute of it bc he thinks it’s cute 
“Darling, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?” SCREECHING 
Believes the relationship revolves around pet names (ie. baby, sweetie, darling) he's adorable 
Is always proud of you and encouraging!!! 
Likes to leave little notes for you around the house. Maybe by your favorite drink in the fridge that reads, “I got these for you. stay hydrated, love” 
At the beginning of the relationship he was so formal with you, that it took him saying “I love you” for the first time to relax for five seconds LOL 
Physical Touch
Joshua loves handholding ‼️
This man always wants to have some sort of contact with you, whether that be holding hands, linking fingers or rubbing your back
Loves having you sit on his lap or lay your legs across his 
His go-to move when you are in public is linking your pinkies together (how cute :3) 
Leans on you when he laughs because he cannot sit still 
I feel like Joshua would like. move his fingers on your leg in the way of playing piano keys but with guitar if that makes sense? Like where the frets are? Idk
Is also the type to be scared of touching you in front of others until you explicitly tell him that it's okay
Acts of Service 
Loves doing the chores for you
“Hey, baby, I'm gonna fill my water bottle. Do you need me to fill yours?” 
Or even a, “hey i borrowed your car, but i filled the tank before bringing it back” we love a man who can afford to fill a vehicle’s tank at this point in time
Likes to bring you lunch once or twice a week --- he’ll make it himself and pack it in a cute little bag and everything 
Helps you in little ways like folding the laundry or helping you pick out outfits on those days that you struggle to do anything 
Is always there for you when literally anything happens. You need someone to help fix your car? He’s on the phone finding a shop. You can’t reach a high shelf or your back hurts too much to bend down to get something from a low cupboard? He’s right there ready to help
Gift Giving 
I touched on this a tiny bit earlier but !! handmade jewelry omg he would make matching bracelets for y’all or even a necklace or earrings for you if bracelets interfere with your job
Always buys little trinkets that remind him of you or your relationship 
“Hey I found this little glass rose decoration and it reminded me of the time i got you flowers when i asked you out the first time” 
HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE CUTE SHY SMILE WHEN HE GIVES YOU SOMETHING TOO as if you’ll ever tell him that you dislike something he got for you 
He would also love if you gave him gifts too like, “hey joshy I got this little container that can help you keep your beads organized” and he’s melt into a puddle of goo onto your living room floor 
Also gets something for you (usually your favorite snack or drink) when you’re especially sad or stressed out - like a super gift instead of his regular daily gifts or something 
Idk just know he’s really sweet and enjoys crafting
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violetasteracademic · 4 months
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So, while I am a passionate Elriel and my experience is only further cemented with each new detail on every re-read, I have still stated since day one that I still love Lucien and Gwyn! My first ever Tumblr post was a dissertation on Lucien for goodness sake!
And this is where I struggle. I don't personally lurk in anti posts, but they make their way to my eyeballs anyways. And my problem is that myself, and many Elriel's I know, still love all the characters and honor and fully believe they will have their own stories, potentially their own POVs in future books or at the very least play a large role in ACOTAR or the multiverse.
But the a/ti Elriel's, from what I've seen, are almost ALWAYS a/ti Elain. I won't bother going over the comments I get on tiktok from E/ucien shippers that claim they like Elain. They erase her. They misunderstand her. They minimize her. They sideline her. They invent villain storylines. And still ship her with their favorite male character? Just because they want *him* to have his mate. And Azriel is apparently bio hazard waste in all areas of life EXCEPT if he decides to go after Gwyn. Whereas I like Azriel as he is, and I like who he currently wants to be with.
The author, I am certain, also likes these characters. She wrote them. It's difficult to believe her intention was for the fans to turn on Azriel just because a reveal many of us saw coming (that he is down bad for Elain) happened.
I don't have to erase Gwyn from the narrative, or distort her interactions with Azriel, minimize Gwyn's importance, create a shitty personality for her or invent a new storyline to make Elriel make sense.
I don't have to erase Lucien from the narrative, distort his interactions with Elain, call him toxic, minimize his importance, or invent a new storyline for Elriel to make sense.
I personally can't wait to see what Lucien and Gwyn are going to bring to the story. But by and large, I mostly see Gwyn as being a sidekick to Azriel and Nesta instead of the lead of her own story or Elain as a sidekick to the Band of Exiles instead of the lead of her own story for G/ynriel and E/ucien theories to come together. Beyond that, I'd love to look into their stories more, but I'm tired of assaulting my eyeballs with all the toxic sludge about pelvises and pure hatred from Elain festering in those spaces.
So I'll say it again and I'll say it a million times, just because Azriel and Elain want each other and not Lucien and Gwyn does NOT mean I think Lucien and Gwyn are trash. I just want the characters who want each other to be together. If it were written differently, I would feel differently. And if antis would at least address that Azriel and Elain WANT each other instead of trying to explain away their behavior and invent false intentions and narratives, I'd have a lot more fun reading and exploring their theories.
I'm an Elain girl first and foremost. And I want her to have what she wants. As of right now, today, waking up in Prythian, that is Azriel. That is the only thing on page. Anything else is speculation or theorizing. Azriel and Elain wanting each other is not a theory. It's real. Erasing it is not only bizarre, but makes any statement coming after it really not credible.
I ship a ton of non canon couples in other fandoms. Many of them never came to pass. It's just for fun. But because the hatred for Elain is so visceral, and the desire to erase her character from existence is so real, these ships are not fun. And I genuinely wish they were.
The awful bullying and atrocious behavior and weird hatred for the books and characters in this fandom gets me down some days. Sorry for the wallowing. Love you all 😘
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