#i’ll be normal again in 3-5 business days

[lale-txt]

my brain acting like it didn’t try to convince me i’m the most annoying person for the past 24h and that everyone hates me (which is not true)

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

god fucking damnit

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 5

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

Price did throw you a mini celebration, he felt bad for missing the day. Gaz and Johnny made a crude little cake for you and everyone sat together and had a good evening. Almost everyone, anyway. Ghost seemed pretty distant the whole time, more so than usual. He would only talk when spoken to but was otherwise off in his own world. Eventually, he retired to his room for the night, leaving the rest of you to your own devices. You all ended up drinking a little bit, which was a mixed bag. Johnny was a very loud drunk, Gaz giggly, and Price the sleepy kind. Unfortunately, that left you, the sad kind, to get all sniffly with them and ramble about the things that make you sad. By the end of the night, you were crashed out on top of your bedsheets, sniffling in your sleep. 

~~~

“Alright sweetheart, I gotta go. I’ll text you in the morning and we’ll call again tomorrow, okay?” Simon said, his voice slightly muffled from the phone speakers.

“Okay, Si. Tomorrow. Sleep tight.” You said, yawning. You sniffed a little, “I love you. Stay safe, okay? I want to see you again soon.”

“You know I always am, love. I love you too. Goodnight.” He said. You both hesitated to hang up, listening to each other breathe for a moment before he hung up.

~

‘Good morning. I hope you’re okay.’

‘We still on for a call tonight?’

You texted him at 6 am this morning when you had woken up. Usually, he’d respond in a few hours, but it was almost 5 pm. It concerned you.

‘Simon? You okay?’ 

‘Si?’

‘Love?’

~

It had been a few weeks since you last spoke to Simon. This wouldn’t bother you normally, considering how busy he was with work, but this time was different. He hadn’t said anything about being unreachable the last time you called, he hadn’t sent a text alerting you to an emergency… nothing. The anxiety ate away at you, chewed at the back of your mind like a horrible migraine. You stared at your texts to him, the long string of messages from you taking up the screen. No reply. 

A few weeks turned into a few months, and you finally got a message. All it read was ‘I’m sorry.’

Wait, what? What? ‘I’m sorry’? What does that mean?

‘Simon? What does that mean?’

‘Please respond. What does that mean?’

Just as quickly as you sent those messages, they were quick to stop delivering.

~

You woke up in your clothes from the day before, your head hurting from dehydration, cheeks dried with salt. Your phone had gone dead from the countless messages you’d sent Simon, not going to bed until you passed out. You put it on the charger, getting up to shower and change clothes. By the time you got out, your phone was back on but no new notifications came in. You set it down and sighed, looking over at the wall. 

A series of pictures lined them, dating back a few years at their oldest and a few months at their newest. You and Simon were the center of each, getting stupid pictures of the two of you at the pier, in the park, at restaurants, parties, and gatherings. All of them made your brow furrow— “What did he mean by sorry?” you asked aloud, staring at the photos. Deciding to send one last text in hopes he received it, you picked up your phone.

‘Seen 3:23 am’

So he did see them. But he didn’t respond. He must have blocked you but regretted it and unblocked you when he knew you’d be asleep. 

‘Is this your way of ending things with me?’ You asked, sending the message. It went through and was immediately seen, but no reply came. You dropped your phone, grumbling to yourself.

~

A few days passed, and you were sitting on your couch staring into space. You didn’t have much energy to do anything but stare. You hadn’t eaten anything but a bag of chips, and you found yourself sipping on a warm glass of water. A knock on the door drew your attention from the nothing you were thinking of. Slowly, you got up, going to the front door and peering through the peephole. The sight beyond made your stomach drop— two soldiers stood beyond with grim looks on their faces. You hesitantly unlocked the door, opening it just enough to ask what they were there for. 

“Are you the spouse of Lieutenant Simon Riley?” One of the men asked, turning to try and peer at you through the crack in the door. You sighed, opening the door fully.

“That’s me, yes. Well, his fiancé, technically but…” You trailed off. “Sorry. Is there something I can help you boys with?” You knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. You knew exactly what words were going to come out of his mouth, and you were already bracing for it. Your mind blurred out all the words that he said, except a few.

“…was killed in the line of duty. We’re sorry for your loss.”

You couldn’t keep yourself upright, knees buckling underneath you as the truth hit you like a bag of bricks. One of them rushed to catch you, not letting you hit the floor as you fell. Tears flowed like a broken dam and your shoulders shook. The news wreaked havoc on your mind, sending you into a swirl of agony. 

He was gone. He was gone and you didn’t have a chance to say goodbye! He left you alone with only his memory! Didn’t people normally get the honor of getting their spouses tags? Or a uniform? Or even their personal effects? This isn’t right! This isn’t right… Memories flashed through your head, showing you the life you shared with him. The way he smiled, how bright and beautiful it was despite all the devastation he’d seen. The way he laughed, how he snorted at your jokes, how all of it made your heart warm right up even when you were low. The feeling of his hands in yours now becoming a cold memory, knowing you won’t ever get to feel that warmth ever again. You won’t ever get to hear him say “I love you” again. Or sweetheart, or love, or your name. 

Was loving him worth the pain of losing him?

~~~

You woke up with a start, shooting upright with your heart racing and your head pounding. You shook as you looked around for your phone, trying to check the time. When you found it, the time read 3:57 am. You had a new text too, from Ghost. 

‘Can you have nightmares quieter? People are trying to sleep.’

It was a fresh message, sent mere minutes before you woke up. You took a shaky breath, steading your hands as you crafted a reply.

‘Like you’re any better.’ 

‘I am. I have padding on my walls for a reason.’

‘Whatever. Means sound shouldn’t come in either, or something like that.’

‘That’s not what that means.’

‘Who cares?’

‘Not you, apparently.’

‘Correct. Anyway. Its too early to go back to bed. Coffee?’

‘Sure.’

You took another breath, a lot more stable this time. You got up to get ready for the day and clean yourself up from your hangover. Eventually, you met Ghost in the kitchen and had a short conversation before Soap came in, who took over the conversation.

[softwiingz]

𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬 ♥︎

𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲… mr. o’hara is always ready to help you when stuff gets too hard around the office, he’s just waiting for his sweet pup to return the favor…

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠!: o’hara. m, chubby! fem! reader ♡

𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝!: my first post >< very excited, might be a bit rusty but i hope you enjoy! please heed the content warnings -3- (power dynamics and abuse of power, groping, reader is a bit ditzy and clueless n is also wearing make up n a skirt!, spanking, sex in the work place, miguel calls reader puppy and other names such as sweetheart and princess, fingering, clothes ripping, minors this is not for you dni <3) i might make a part 2 we shall see :3 wc is a lil over 2k!!

the copier isn’t working again, your freshly manicured nail taps at the screen frantically as if that would make the gears start turning as they should within the machine, at least that’s how you think it should be. you have things to do, emails to write back to. but you’re stuck at the copier machine, the error button flashing a fluorescent red that just plucks your nerves. “come on, stupid thing!” you pout, ready to just give up and ask for help until you feel a presence approaching from behind, the familiar scent of musk with notes of blueberry becoming stronger and helping you pin point exactly who’s coming from behind.

“is everything alright here?” the man questions. miguel o’hara, business operations supervisor, your supervisor. his voice is a low, deep timbre that you could feel, startling the butterflies that rested within you, causing you to forget your initial problem. “um it’s the copier again… it’s never really liked me, always jamming up when i need to copy a few things it’s so-“ you take a minute to remember where you are “so very frustrating… mr. o’hara. i know you helped me before, do you think you could help me again? i promise i’ll remember next time.” your mascara coated lashes flutter as you peer up at him, waiting eagerly as always for him to save you.

he can’t help but chuckle to himself, a glimpse of his canine peeks through his smile as he starts to speak. “you’ll have to write this down, what if there’s a day where i can’t help you, hm?” he teases, there being a slight condescending tone that’s smothered in a sweetness you aren’t able to catch. you hang on to every word that leaves his lips, and he knows that. he revels in it actually, the way you nod and “uh huh” with every step or instruction he gives you, the way those sugary, plump lips part when the gears in your brain start to turn. the lost puppy trope suits you, he thinks to himself, it's rather amusing observing you try to navigate things just to turn around and ask for him to rescue you. mr. o’hara, what does this email mean? mr. o’hara, this report isn’t pulling up! could you take a look, please? it's the whine in your voice, the small whimper when you don’t get your way initially that sets him off in the best way possible.

after a few trial runs, the light of the copier flashes, indicating that it’s now back to it's normal functionings. it spits out your needed papers and you can’t help but express your happiness, gleefully cheering as sparkles waltz in your eyes “oh mr. o’hara you’re a life saver! thank you, thank you!” skipping away in your own little world you don’t feel the way your superior looks at you, observing the way your tight little skirt hugs your curves. delicious supple thighs pudging where the skirt ends, the slight jiggle of your ass that causes his cock to fatten, slacks growing uncomfortably tight.

he also can’t help but observe the way your other colleagues are looking at you. at his puppy, practically undressing you with their eyes and eye fucking you senseless. he can’t help the twitch in his eye, tension building in his jaw as it tightens and constricts with agitation. he’ll have to correct this somehow…

he can’t have this.

5:27pm

you stare at the 27 with anticipation, nails click clacking at the lettered keys as you hope for 5:30pm to hit. you can’t wait to go home to your kitty, pepper, to catch up on that one popular kdrama lyla recommended about the attorney, to have some sweets your neighbor baked for you yesterday! you just can’t wait to unwind and be in the comfort of your home, not at a stuffy poorly lit office, home.

5:29pm

you’re packing up your things and tidying up your scattered documents into neat piles for tomorrow, sending one last email before your inbox flashes, indicating an incoming message that could wait until tomorrow… that is until you read who sent the email.

inbox (1): miguel o’hara. and it’s marked with high importance…

it’s a little after 5:30pm, 5:36pm to be exact. there’s a silence and energy in the room that feels…different. usually the atmosphere here is normal, flashes of you peeking your head in to ask for help come to mind, his familiar smile greeting you. it’s not an uncomfortable feeling you’re experiencing, it’s just…different. it’s not until miguel starts to speak that you feel an abundance of heat ignite in your chest. “just to preference this, you aren’t in any kind of trouble, okay? i wanted to speak with you about one small little thing. is that okay?” you nod slowly, trying to think what you could have done to be called to his office.

he stands up from his desk, the chair legs scratching at the integrity of the wooden floor beneath. in his hand is a black, metal standard ruler, the ones you remember from elementary school. he walks over to you slowly, painfully slow, until he’s behind the chair you’re seated in. “m-mr. o’ha-“ you're cut off, his heavy calloused hands rest on your shoulders, taking in the way you jump slightly at his touch. “stand up for me?” he instructs in almost a whisper, tapping the ruler on the outer part of your right thigh. “oh! um, okay sir.” doing as you’re told like always, you rise from your seat, tugging at the hem of your skirt as to prevent miguel from seeing the baby blue lace underneath.

“you’re familiar with the dress code, correct?” he questions, his tone baritone as he steps closer, the ruler now placed at your thigh. miguel’s cologne has grown pungent now, his musky scent overwhelming your senses as you answer honestly. “um…a little. is it my skirt, mr. o’hara?” he quirks up a brow. you’re playing coy, knowing full well you’re in his office because of this little number you chose to wear this morning. “i thought wearing tights with it would make it more acceptable, m’sorry.” oh you’re sorry? he thought. his jaw clenches slightly as he focuses on the fullness of your hips, watching as your thighs rub together nervously in that little skirt. yeah, he wanted to see just how sorry you really were…

“m-mr. o’hara!”

you can’t really help the squeak that leaves your glossy lips, the whine of his name fattening miguel’s cock as you’re pushed over his desk, your breasts squished against the glossy wooden surface. you can’t see what he’s doing but you can feel him, the warm air that’s exhaled fanning against your ass, coarse hands kneading your doughy thighs. you aren’t able to see the hunger in this man’s eyes, pupils slightly blown as he takes in your sweet natural scent. “my my, this is a short skirt,” he tsks, reprimanding you condescendingly as his fingertips dimple your skin, small crescents making their mark. “go ahead and spread those legs for me, hm? show mr. o’hara just how sorry you are.”

you can’t help the tension that coils and contorts deep in your core, thighs hugging together as your ass squirms in the air. is this…allowed? what he’s doing? you know it’s not, this is definitely a fireable offense and a definite abuse of power. but…it felt good…the way he’s groping and grabbing at your ass, the pressure from the weight of his body on yours, the tight grip he had on your wrists moments ago. it’s why you’ve been hugging your legs together, trying to subside that want and desire that’s rapidly starting to awaken.

slowly your legs spread apart, aromas of your favorite body butter and sweet natural scent lure him to the soft, supple skin of your inner thighs. miguel swears he’s been granted the key to glory, your glory. “like this, mr. miguel?” god the way you mewl his name has him gripping at the fabric of your nylon tights, the threads ripping and snapping as he tears it from your shape. he palms at your ass, smacking it and watching as it jiggles. “mhm, just like that and keep them spread.” he commands in a deep growl like groan, earning a small whimper from you as you nod. you haven’t been touched like this in so long, your last fling barely able to make you wet let alone find your clit. but miguel has you writhing for his touch, your hips shifting in anticipation for what he’s going to do.

the calloused pads of his thumb caress the seat of your panties, toying with the damp stain slick with your arousal. “mm you were getting wet this whole time, sweetheart? should have said something and i would have taken care of this sooner.” you whine as his thumb presses into the lacey fabric, the pressure applied to your sensitive clit. the want and need turns into ache as he continues to play with your cunt, his thick fingers massaging and spreading your slick coated lips apart just to push them together again. his mouth latched on to your thigh, suckling and licking at the skin. you were soaking wet, practically dripping as miguel’s digits were saturated in your lust. “i’m sorry if i’m teasing, i’ve just dreamt of having the honor to make this sweet pussy drip for me. i know she needs a lot of attention, just like you, no?” he rasps breathlessly as he places a small kiss to your ass.

your fingers frantically pull the baby blue lace to the side, you’re embarrassed at just how soaked your panties were from just teasing, what were you gonna be like if this went any further? “please…no more teasing mr. miguel… i- i can’t take it anymore…” your voice was dripping with desperation as you looked over your shoulder, catching the hunger in miguel’s eyes through your peripheral.

you start to run your fingers through your folds slick with your sweetness, tapping at your buzzy clit before whimpering for your superior. “make me cum, sir…i need to…” before another word leaves your lips you feel two thick fingers prod at you before slowly delving into your sloppy heat. you can’t help but flutter around him as he starts to pump them in and out, curling his fingers and letting the pads of them massage the spongy rings of muscle sucking him in. your moans were like a symphony to miguel, the saccharine flutter of your cries for him were almost enough for him to stuff you full of his cock, pounding into you just as he’s imagined when fisting his cock to the thought of you. but for now he’ll have to settle.

his mouth latches onto your aching clit, letting the tip of his tongue work the sensitive bud as you wail from the stimulation. “oh! m-miguel i’m gonna! if you-!!” he doesn’t head your warnings as his tongue flicks at it, suckling as his fingers continue to pump you full. he almost dared to add a third. “if i what? tell me, princess,” he taunts, smacking your ass with the ruler and getting off to the way you clench around him with each impact. “fuck! i’m gonna-!” you wail, tears bubbling in your lash line as they trickle down the apples of your cheeks, muddied with mascara. your mind was hazy from the pleasure and pain, nothing but sweet babblings fell from your lips as miguel continued to toy with your pussy.

“i think she’s ready to cum, it’s what you wanted after all.” he sneers, his fingers brushed against a spot within you that sent you right over the edge, your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably as your pleasure reached the peak. miguel’s hand rubbed over the fullness of your ass, massaging the marks left from the impact of the ruler, even kissing a few. he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat, a string of your slick connecting them to you until it dissipated. his finger were coated down to the knuckle, some of it daring to dribble down his forearm before he licks it away, savoring your flavor.

you were left in a daze, your mind still fuzzy as your cunt fluttered around nothing. you wished it didn’t have to end, the desire to be fucked dumb on his desk another want of yours. you try to voice that but talking isn’t coming to you easy right now, and miguel picks up on that. he shushes you before fixing your clothes and hair for you, wiping your face of smeared make up so that the evening cleaning staff doesn’t jump to accurate conclusions. “let’s get you home, then we can discuss… future mandatory meetings.” you can’t help but nod dumbly, to be expected of his sweet puppy, you hug onto his forearm while you remain in your dream like state, your mind clouded with bliss thanks to mr. o’hara’s help.

psst hey you! thank you for reading! if you have any slutty thoughts you wanna share, you’re welcome to come to my inbox so we can scream together! as always likes and reblogs are encouraged if you enjoyed! 🦋

[sayingyournames]

new hozier just dropped so i won’t be normal again for at least 3-5 business days, until then i’ll be laying in the woods on a patch of moss. if u need me - no u don’t.

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 9

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Cowritten with @schemmentis

Summary: You go visit someone... without Melissa.

WC: ~2.25k

Monday morning rolls around, and when you feel two little hands on your face once again (is that really the only way your girls know how to wake someone up?), you groan out. Your head is pounding, your back aches from falling asleep on the couch, and your wife is half on top of you, her chin digging into your neck.

“Mam!” Cat whisper shouts into your ear. Oh, so they do know another way to wake someone up. “Mam!”

“Wake Mommy,” you grumble as you keep your eyes closed.

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. 

“I want Mommy though,” Rosie whispers as she gently shakes your wife’s shoulder. Why does Melissa get the gentle twin this morning?

Melissa peels her eyes open and smiles softly at your younger twin. “Hey, baby girl. Mommy’s awake. Why don’t you two go start picking out your outfits for school while Mam and I get up?”

The two scurry off with giggles, thrilled to be in charge of their own outfits on this Monday morning. Your wife maneuvers her way off of you before kissing you gently. You kiss her back before groaning.

“I’ll grab the Advil,” she tells you on her way to the kitchen. You stretch once she’s out of the room, heave yourself off of the couch, and follow in her direction. She’s already pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator to make breakfast, and you snake your arms around her waist sleepily.

“I’ll get the girls to school,” you tell her softly. “You just worry about your restaurant today.”

“I can help,” she protests.

“You haven’t been at Twelve Tables for a few days now,” you tell her. “I apparently don’t have a business anymore, so at least let me feel like I’m useful and contributing to the family by taking care of the twins.”

Melissa turns in your arms, and she gives you a sad look. “You are useful, and you do contribute to-” She halts her sentence when she sees what Rosie comes into the kitchen wearing. “Little miss, you cannot wear that to school.” 

You release your wife and turn to see your little girl wearing one of your tee shirts, specifically the tee shirt of yours that says ‘Corona’ on it. You have to bite back a chuckle.

“But I wanna be like Mam!” Rosie stomps her barefoot against the tile.

Then Cat comes out, and she’s wearing one of Melissa’s shirts. That one has the letters ‘MILF’ printed on it- a gag gift you got for your wife when the girls were born.

The redhead smacks her forehead. “Good lord.”

At that one, you fully let out a belly laugh. “Is it dress like Moms day?” you ask.

Both girls nod with urgency.

“If you want to be useful, find them better shirts of ours to wear to school today,” your wife instructs as she runs a hand over her face.

By some grace of God, you convince them to change into more school appropriate shirts of yours and Melissa’s, and by the time you’re ushering them to the door, your wife is just slipping on her shoes. 

“You look beautiful,” you whisper as you kiss her gently.

“Such a charmer,” she rolls her eyes, but she does kiss you back.

“Moms! Stop kissing!” Rosie groans as she grabs her backpack. “That’s cooties!”

“Cooties.” You repeat, leaning down to kiss your youngest twin’s cheeks. “Now you have cooties, lovey.”

You laugh as she dramatically wipes her cheeks with both little hands as you usher the girls out the door.

You see the girls safely to school, lingering just a little longer than you normally would in saying goodbye to them. You loiter for a minute in the hallway, looking through the classroom doorway at them greeting their little friends and instantly jumping into some game only kids can properly understand. You smile, relieved at least that your girls’ lives are peaceful and exactly like childhood should be- with no idea of what’s going on. You hope they never know. When they get older, they’ll surely gain some idea of the life you lead; your wife, too. They’re already too smart for their own good. It will only get worse as they age. You blame Melissa in your mind for having such brains.

You force yourself to get back to her at the thought as she waits in the car, before she can worry you’re taking too long. The plus side of owning a business; you’re technically never late. Except you know Melissa will feel like she’s late anyway. You hold her hand the whole drive to Twelve Tables.

“Pick me up before you get the girls from school?” She asks as she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“You sure that’s enough time for everything you want to get done?”

She smiles at you as she leans across the console. “Considerin’ you called in backup and Val was directing everythin’, I think it’ll be fine. Trust the people that are there for you, huh?” She murmurs before kissing you goodbye. “You taught me that one.” She winks before she climbs out of the car and disappears into the back entrance of the restaurant.

You sigh as you sit in the car, idling at the back of Twelve Tables. You have no idea what to do with yourself. You’re used to running around at the salon; taking care of clients. If you aren’t taking care of clients, then you’re making sure those that work for you are and everything is running smoothly. The occasional visit from someone in the family is handled in your back office.

Now, you have hours to kill with nothing to worry about. Except, actually… you have everything to worry about. They’ve put Tony in charge. You still own the salon, on paper, but for them to make this kind of move; it’s bad. They don’t trust you- at least not as much as they used to. They didn’t even put you in charge like this when Bobby was on his way out.

You put the car in drive, pulling out of Melissa’s restaurant’s lot. You turn right, directing the car towards the outskirts of town; and out of it. You have hours to kill. You may as well make the most of it.

You drive the backroads- open fields and farmhouses. Little neighborhoods or small towns you pass through have nothing more than one stop light. If that. Most of the time you just have a stop sign at a four way stop. Your wife might be upset later that you didn’t bring her with you. Or maybe she’ll understand. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Mickey; just you. It’s always a family affair to visit him. At least you and Melissa. 

You hope seeing him will set something at ease- like he’ll remind you this isn’t you getting picked over or played. He’ll tell you that it’s just temporary. Mickey, after all, is paying the big price for the family. Time on the inside- his freedom in exchange for everything the family stands for. Maybe he can remind you why you chose this life. Why do you keep choosing it now? The only answer you have is to keep those you love safe. 

There is only one real way out of the life. You might be okay if it affected only you. But you know it doesn’t. You push the image of Melissa and the girls in the church you attend on Sundays with Barb from your mind as you pull into the visitor’s parking lot of the penitentiary. Except they’re in all black, with a funeral procession with your casket down the aisle. You can envision the way that Melissa’s makeup runs down her face and her eyes are bloodshot as she clings to the girls like it’s the only thing that’s keeping her tied to this world. That’s the only way out. You don’t want your wife and girls to ever have to go through that, but it might just be what fate has in store for you. Still, while you have whatever time you do left on this earth, you’ll fight for them. That’s why you keep choosing this life, even though every day makes you question the worth of it more and more.

Mickey grabs you up in a bear hug when you walk into the visitation room. “Hey, Y/N! I wasn't expectin’ a visit for awhile yet. How ya doin'?”

Reluctantly, you fill Mickey in on the recent events. He doesn't interrupt you or interject with his own thoughts. He just listens, elbows set on the table that separates the two of you while you speak in a hushed tone.

When you finish telling him how Uncle Dom has taken you off the salon, and put Tony in, Mickey laughs. “Tony? Tony aint gonna turn a profit in that place. ‘Specially not without the side gig. But even with it…” Mickey shakes his head. “That's rough. I'm sorry, Y/N. I know how much that place means to ya.”

“It don’t even matter that much to me anymore,” you sigh. “But it’s a big source of income for us to spoil Cat and Rosie, and… I don’t know, Mick.”

You look across the table at Mickey. He's older than when you last saw him. He looks it, like the past four and a half years have aged him at least ten. He'd been in his early twenties when he was convicted. You never noticed in all your other visits to him how much he was changing, being too busy with focusing on keeping your twins near you and your wife or quiet to not interrupt other visits. Or on the occasions it was just you and Mel; too busy listening and occasionally refereeing the silly squabbles he and your wife would get into. 

Mickey has gained a fair bit of muscle. He wasn't scrawny when he went in, but he wasn't buff like he is now. He's letting the stubble on his face try to turn into a beard. His eyes, the same color as your wife's, look weary- about as weary as you feel.

“You regret it?” You ask softly. “Paying this price? Bein’ in here?”

Mickey looks back at you. He’s quiet for a long moment as he truly considers what you're asking. The look on his face says it isn't the first time he's thought about it. 

Finally, he shakes his head. “No. I don't. If it weren't me, it'd be somebody else, y'know? There's always another body, huh? Another Tony to put in a spot in place of somebody.” He smiles wryly at you. “I'd rather it be me.”

“But why?” You can't help but ask. “Why you? You could be at home for Sunday dinners, seeing the twins whenever. So much other shit.”

“Hey, don't get me wrong, I miss all that. I miss Ma's cooking. I miss pissing my sisters off almost more than I think I miss Ma’s cookin’. I think about the girls all the time- all the birthdays and special stuff I missed. But…” Mickey presses an index finger to the table. “Because I'm here, I know youse are all safe out there. Maybe not from everythin’ in this shit world, but from this. I'd take the fall a hundred more times if it meant keeping you, my sisters, my nieces, Ma, and everybody else out and happy.”

“I almost turned myself over. For the salon.” You whisper. This was the first you've said it out loud other than when broaching the topic with Sammy. Melissa doesn't even know.

Instead of surprise or shock; Mickey nods with a knowing look. “Yeah. You would thinka that.” He smiles, lightly tapping your hand. “Thats why I'm the second Schemmenti you'd marry, huh? We think alike. That and you’d probably strangle Kristen Marie if ya married her.”

In spite of yourself and how you feel, you laugh. “Nah. Mel would strangle me first if I even thought about gettin’ with Kristen Marie, even if we were divorced.”

“Look,” Mickey says, straightening suddenly. You're doin’ what ya can. You’re there for the twins, you have Melissa through all of this, and I’m sure she’s well aware of that. That's what counts. Sometimes this family shit….it's fucked up. But that's when you gotta remember who you really do it for. I aint in here for Uncle Dom or anybody else. I'm in here for my family. If it makes the rest of ‘em happy; that's just collateral.”

“You're readin’ too many books in here. You didn't use to be this smart.”

“I don’t got much else to do,” Mickey shrugs. “I could join a prison gang and make toilet wine, or I could try to better myself so that when I do get out, I don’t end up back in this shithole.”

“No gangs, Mickey.” You say quickly as you get up to hug him. “I don't need to keep Mel from breaking in here just to kick your ass for stupid decisions.”

“Ah, you're right. She's gotta keep you from those on the outside.” He teases with a smile before he hugs you just as tightly when you arrived.

You're almost out of the visitor's room when you hear Mickey again.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn to see him with one of the corrections officers right behind him, ready to walk him back. 

“Take care of yourself, huh, kid? My sister needs you. Don't let her down.”

Tags: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[bb-sg]

Beg Pt.4

Part 4 is here!

I recommend reading the first parts of the story if you haven't already.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

Relationship(s): Geto x fem!Reader, Gojo x fem!Reader

CW: fingering, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, punishment, impact play.

You waited until the notifications stopped and you heard the last ping. You smirked at the phone, laughing at the irony of everyone trying to reach him while you were seeking his attention too.

On the lock screen, illuminating from the phone, was a message from Geto Suguru reading, “Hi Y/N.”

Is he using his friend’s phone to text me?

You bit your lip, your cheeks burned involuntarily. The message was a couple days old, but you still hesitated before writing out your reply. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were nervous.

You wrote and rewrote your message several times before sending a simple, “Hello?”, back.

You continued to gather water and mindlessly fish while you waited for a response.

-Geto Suguru: Gojo told me about you, and how you helped him. I figured I should at least thank you. Saved us the hassle of doing it ourselves. I’m Geto. His friend.

He told someone about me?

You were nervous. You stayed away from people for a reason.

You hesitated in responding. You thought about ignoring the message and waiting to see if Gojo would try to reach out to you himself. Although, this seemed like the best option if you wanted to see him again.

I really do want to see him again though.

-You: Oh, it was no problem. Happy to help him out. Is he okay?

You hoped that the message didn’t come across as desperate. Even if you were.

-Geto: Yeah, the knucklehead is back to normal. Only thanks to you, love. I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet, you were all he talked about for a week.

This response made you giddy, and weak in the knees. Just like when you had a crush on the playground. You had no reason to believe this man, he was a stranger to you after all, but God did you hope he was telling the truth.

-You: I’m sure he’s busy, just happy he’s okay.

You tried to leave your response vague and devoid of the eagerness you genuinely felt. Not wanting to come off too strong.

-Geto: I’ll have to owe you a favor. Gojo said you live out in a forest. Is that right?

You bit your lip, feeling your nerves bubbling to the surface. The conversation between the two of you began to flow organically. You felt a swell of emotions building up when you realized an hour had flown by and you were still texting him. The conversation was friendly and welcoming.  He was easy to get along with, and seemed calm and collected, especially compared to Gojo’s rowdier personality.

You couldn’t believe that he was real. You started to question whether or not Gojo was even real or if you imagined this whole thing. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you were awake.

One thing didn’t make sense to you though: Why did he start talking to you anyway?

I don’t want to ask and have this whole thing become ruined.

-You: Hey, why did you start talking to me anyway? 

There was a pregnant pause after you sent the message. You waited impatiently as you stared at the screen, muscles clenched with anxiety, but the phone remained silent.

Why wouldn’t he respond to that message?

The sun was starting to set but you didn’t want to leave until you heard from him. You tried to brush it off as you slowly packed up your things. You were dragging your feet, hoping that you heard the phone go off before dusk set in.

As you started your hike back to your home, you racked your brain trying to piece together what any of your conversation with Geto Suguru really meant. You felt drawn to him for some reason, you wanted to trust him and believe that he was being genuine in his interest in talking to you.

You heard rustling coming from the depths of the forest. You peered into the darkness trying to see what it was. You picked up the pace, eager to get out of this area and back to your home. 

It feels like someone is watching me…

Your eyes kept scanning the forest, waiting for the shadows to move and for someone to jump out at you. You liked living in desolation since you rarely ran into anyone, but you couldn’t deny that this place had an ominous aura about it. Especially in this moment.

You noticed that something shifted among the trees. You froze in place, your hand gripped your face mask tightly, getting ready to defend yourself.

Your heart pounded in your chest, body started to tremble as your fight or flight instincts kicked in. You opened your mouth ready to command whatever it was to leave you alone when you felt a hand clamp over your mouth and pull you in.

What the fuck. Who is this? What do I do?

You tried to fight back against the person, swinging your elbow back to try knock them back. They grabbed your arm quickly and anchored it to your side.

“Whoa there kitten, put the claws away, it’s just me!”

You recognized the playful and animated voice immediately. Gojo.

“I thought it might be fun to try and scare ya a little but you’re a little jumpy today huh?”

He leaned in close to whisper in your ear, his hand still clamped tightly over your lips. You weren't any more relaxed knowing it was him lurking in the shadows. Your heart was still racing, your body was still tense and rigid.  

His presence was overwhelming. You felt intimidated by his energy, his height and how close he was to you.

“Oi, I’m going to let you go but you gotta promise not to do anything stupid.” You could hear the smile in his voice as his hand dropped down and he stepped back and away from you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to check that phone for like a month. You were starting to hurt my pride!”

You turned around and took him in. He was dressed casually in a long sleeve white sweater and black jeans, topping it off with his black shades he was so fond of. He was feigning a hurt expression with his hand covering his forehead and his other hand clenching at his heart.

“I was starting to think you were only using me for my body.” He smirked and looked at you over his glasses. His brilliant eyes were sparkling, much more of life than the last time you saw him.

In an instant you remembered how irritating he can be though.

What an ass.

You playfully swung to smack him on the arm, but he swiftly dodged it, laughing at your attempt.

“You couldn’t hit me if you tried princess!” He cackled.

Your face soured as he belittled you. You looked him up and down and held your hands on your hips, challenging him.

I know I can’t win but I’ll be damned if he’s going to talk to me that way.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and cocked his head to the side.

“Well, c’mon then. Let’s see it.”

You instantly threw a punch towards him, but missed as he leaned just out of range. He laughed as he straightened up.

“What was that? That was a terrible punch!” He laughed throwing his head back.

This asshole! He’s only been here for two minutes, and he pissed me off.

He finally stopped laughing and held his hands up, when he saw how angry you were.

“Oi! Don’t get all mad now. How about I show you how to throw a punch eh?” He slowly approached you and like he would a rapid dog. You kept your fist clenched to your side as he walked around you, stopping right behind you.

His hands landed on your shoulders firmly, rubbing them up and down to get you to relax. Your skin prickled with goosebumps when you felt the warmth emitting from his hands. Gojo pulled you back against his chest while resting his chin on your shoulder. “Relax,” he whined in your ear.

You gasped, flustered by how close he was again. He shook your arms a little until you gave in and loosened up enough for him to manipulate your limbs. He lifted and guided your arms and hands into a fighting position with your hands up guarding your face.

“There. keep your hands up so you can protect yourself. You want to be able to react quickly if necessary. When you throw a punch, you need the force to come from your hips.” He instructed you in a serious tone.

His hands left your arms and drifted down to your pelvis, gripping you tightly. He tapped your thigh and used one of his feet to gently push your dominant leg back, staggering your feet. You stumbled a little bit he stabilized you. You felt the rumble of his chuckle against your back.

“Now, rotate your hips and really throw your fist like you’re trying to punch through your target.” He whispered in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin. He walked you through the motion with his hands, his body flush against yours, correcting your form gently.

“Just like that kitten.” His breath tickled your neck as he repeated the same technique a few more times. “Good. You’re doing so well.”

 He’s got to be doing this on purpose.

Your skin burned as your mind raced with indecent fantasies of him whispering the same phrases to you under different circumstances.

“Now that’s how you hit someone. Not that you’ll ever be in danger with me around.” He slowly retracted himself from you and shoved his hands back into his pockets. The same smug smile as earlier returning.

“Anyway, enough about you being defenseless”, he stuck his tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes at how childish he was. “I’ve been checking the find my phone app constantly, waiting for you to get service. Took ya long enough.”

He started walking towards your house, only looking back when he noticed you weren’t following him.

“You coming? I’m starving, I hope you stocked up on food this time.”

Why did I miss him...

You sighed and ran to catch up to his long legs. You two walked in silence, finding a comfortable pace as you navigated your way through the forest. You snuck nervous glances over to scan his features, waiting for any clues that would help you understand why he was here.

His face remained calm and peaceful, he seemed to be enjoying the walk. You almost didn’t want to disturb him. The way he looked lost in a daydream made you wish the walk was longer.

Curiosity got the best of you though. You took out the phone and typed out a message before tapping him on the shoulder to catch his attention as you held the phone out.

He looked back at you before reading your message.

-Why are you here?

He laughed, “What, I can’t stop in to say hi?”

He playfully shoved you with his shoulder and you couldn’t help my smile, cheeks burning up.

“I just wanted to see you. Plus, I’ve been training nonstop since I saw you last. I could use a break and your place seems like a good place to rest up and relax.” He pushed his glasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you. “Among other things.”

You smacked his arm, and he yelped in mock surprise. You frantically typed out a reply.

-I’m not running a hotel or vacation home Gojo!

He threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t pay to stay out here, and you really don’t have any good amenities. You’re not really going to turn me away though, are you?”  His voice was smooth like velvet, and rich like honey.

You shrugged your shoulders halfheartedly.

“That’s the spirit!” He hollered in excitement before picking up the pace, his long legs leading the way.

Before long you reached your house and began unloading everything. Gojo immediately started rifling through your kitchen looking for sweets.

You watched him curiously. A small smile forming on your face. You hated to admit it, but you did stop at the store and grabbed a few things he might like after his last visit. He happily tore into some mochi he had found.

How does he just worm himself into my house so easily?

You glanced at the phone and remembered that you were waiting for Geto’s reply. You opened the messages and saw he had replied.

-Geto: You seemed interesting from what Gojo had said about you. Someone worth getting to know. Is this okay?

You bit your lip before putting the phone to sleep. You couldn’t help but feel excited about his response. You quickly changed your facial expression before Gojo could see. You wondered if Gojo knew that his best friend had been texting you all day. For some reason, it felt wrong.

You didn’t see how Gojo’s jaw clenched in annoyance when he did catch how your face lit up when you looked at your phone. You didn’t know that he could see everything.

You began to write a message to tell Gojo about your conversation with Geto when he interrupted you by grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit on the couch with him. He seemed giddy as he smirked at you.

“Guess what! I’ve been working on a cursed technique that may be able to protect me from your cursed speech! You’d be able to talk to me without having to worry about cursing me!”

You gawked at him, genuinely shocked and confused by his news. You didn’t believe him at first, but the look on his face told you he was being honest. He was excited but there was a hint of determination and seriousness underneath his happy demeanor. He almost seemed tense beneath it all.

I’ve never been able to openly talk to anyone. You had a thousand questions but couldn’t force yourself to ask any of them, so he continued explaining.

“I’ve been working on creating an infinite space around me, like a shield, that’ll make it impossible for anything to touch me. Including your cursed energy.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of his explanation and understand his technique.

He took your hand in his and squeezed it softly, bringing your focus back to him. “Maybe we should try it out and see if it works.”

He took off his glasses and folded them into his pocket. He met your gaze before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to talk to him.

You pulled your mask down and around your neck. His eye immediately went to stare at your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again. He loved being able to see your entire face. He adored how flustered you looked, biting at your beautiful lips, barely making eye contact with him. It made him want to ruin you.

He encouraged you more, “Go ahead. I want to hear your beautiful voice angel.”

You cleared your throat, “S-sorry, I’m nervous. I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice shook as you concentrated on choosing your words carefully. Suddenly, your throat felt dry and tight.

He smiled wide and squeezed your hand tighter, pulling your hand to his chest and leaning into you. His face inches away from yours.

“Your voice is sweet, like sugar.”

You giggled, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

“Thank you, Gojo. Is it hard to keep up your technique?”

His smile faltered a bit, you almost didn't catch it the change before he plastered on a cheesy smile again. “I can hold it for a bit without much trouble. I’m working on finding out how to regenerate my cursed energy indefinitely, but I haven't quite perfected it yet. I can keep it up for about an hour constantly before I get tired. C’mon, try to curse me, give me your best shot.”

Is he doing this for me?

You studied his body language, looking for any signs that he was exhausting himself. Your gaze landed on his lips which were so close to yours. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You felt a familiar ache in your body, your skin burning up.

“Kiss me. I mean if you want-”  You began before he cut you off and his lips met yours. Your lips molded together as his hand snaked into your hair. 

He groaned into the kiss as he pulled you into his lap and held onto your hip. He guided you into place and held you down against him. His fingers snuck under your clothes to grip at your bare skin, his touch burned into your skin. You dug your fingers into his chest as you gently bit his bottom lip, begging for more.

 Wait!

You broke away from the kiss in a panic. You pulled away quickly and covered your mouth with both hands.

Did I just force him to do that?

You felt the vibrations of his laugh against your body as he pulled your hands away from your face and into his own.

“Don’t worry, it was my choice to do that. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you.”  He took your face in his hands to force you to look at him. He was beautiful. The contrast between his vibrant blue eyes and smooth white skin made you weak.

“It looks like my technique works though.” He moved your head to the side with his hand and laid soft kisses on your neck. “Now... Tell me all about yourself.”

His kisses ignited the fire inside you, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips everywhere on your body. You tried to form words, but they were stuck in your throat.

“C’mon kitten, focus. Don't let me distract you.” you felt a sharp sting on your ass when his hand landed on you. You gasped and bucked your hips forward against him trying to pull away from his hand. He groaned when you inadvertently bucked against his hips. “You know I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to hear your voice. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” You quipped anxiously, more focused on how his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Let’s play a game, 20 questions. Each time you answer one of my questions, I’ll reward you but if you don’t answer my question, then I’ll have to punish you.” He nipped at your ear mischievously as he ground his hips up into yours.

You chuckled to hide your nervousness, agreeing to his game with a simple nod.

“Alright kitten. Tell me, “He paused thoughtfully. “Where are you from?”

You gripped his shoulders tightly, relishing the way his fingers grazed up the skin on your back, tracing the curve of your spine.

“Kyoto. I’m from Kyoto,” you whispered.

“Good girl.” He purred into your neck as he hooked one of his fingers into the neck of your shirt and pulled it down your shoulder. He sucked small bruises into your skin as his lips followed the ridge of your collarbone. You moaned softly at the sensation.

He hummed appreciatively at your response. “Has anyone taught you how to use your cursed energy?”

He turned more serious, the graveness in his voice made you want to shrink away from him. You felt your cursed energy flare up due to your anxiety. It could taste it building in your throat. You forced it down to the pit of your stomach.

“Yes. when I was young.”

He hummed again, biting your skin. One of his hands snuck its way into your bra and gently caressed your breast. You gasp at the contact as he squeezed and tweaked your sensitive nipple. The fabric of your shirt felt rough compared to his soft touches. Gojo continued to nip and kiss at your neck and shoulder.

“Who taught you angel?” He inquired.

You shook your head no, refusing to respond. There were some things you wanted to keep private. This was a part of your story you didn’t plan on telling anyone. You tried to pull back from him, but he held you in place.

He tutted in your ear before stilling all his movements. “No? You’re going to give me the silent treatment on that one?”

He pulled back away from you to stare at your face. “Punishment it is.” His eyes darkened and he pinched your nipple hard enough to make you yelp.

He squeezed your ass before pushing you off him.

“Take your pants off, now.” He commanded in a low voice.

You wanted to refuse, not give into his game, but you craved him more than you wanted to admit. You felt starved for touch while you raked over his form. He sat with his legs spread wide, his elbows perched on his knees while he leaned on them. His eyes followed your every move as you gave in to his authority and began sliding your pants and shoes off.

“Now, turn around and bend over in front of me. Keep your hands on your knees no matter what.” You heard his command. “Count each one.”

You didn’t have to see him to know what his plan was. You heard the impact before you felt the sharp sting on your backside. Your skin igniting aflame where his hit had landed.

“O-one.” You meekly let out, bracing yourself for the next one.

“Hm I couldn’t hear you. Louder this time.” The next slap was harder than the first.

You squealed, “Two!”

You bit back a sound that was a cross between a screen and moan. Tears built up in your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you felt the wetness building in your core. He rubbed and kneaded the cheek he had just slapped. He groaned when his fingers grazed your panty clad warmth, noticing the damp spot growing.

He spread your cheeks apart to admire you. You heard him groan before you felt his breath against your hot skin. he gently the area he had already slapped before squeezing your hips, pushing you away from him.

“You drive me fucking crazy. I’m almost not able to control myself.” His voice was rough, almost guttural. You looked back at him and saw the relaxed and excited Gojo was gone. His pupils were blown wide with lust and glued to your core. “Eyes forward.” He barked as his eyes flickered to yours. You turned your head back and waited in anticipation.

The last strike caused you to moan in agony and euphoria. He chuckled and rubbing his hands over your ass to soothe you, occasionally brushing against your center.

“You’re so wet, I could take you so easily kitten.” Gojo teased you before he coaxed you to sit down next to him. You winced at the sharp pain that jolted through your body when your skin made contact with the couch.

“You know I don’t like to punish you, right angel?” He cooed while stroking your cheek. His eyes feigned concern and his smile was anything but sincere.

“That’s a lie.” You snapped back.

“Yeah. You are right, guess you got me there.” He laughed and draped his arm on the back of the couch, caging you in. “Now. Let’s pick up where we left off hmm?”

His fingers brushed over your thighs teasingly. “Let’s try some more easy ones…”, he tapped his finger on his chin while he pondered.

“Ah! What’s your favorite flower?” He leaned his head against his arm while he watched you consider his question. His eyes sparkled mischievously while he oozed charm.

You laughed at his sudden change in attitude and answered his question. 

He smiled and gripped your thigh tightly sliding them apart. “Now I get to reward you and I’ll know what to bring you next time I stop by.”

Next time? You bit your lip at how nervous that made you.

He continued to ask simple, basic questions about you. He asked what your favorite food was, what sports you liked and what kind of music you liked. Each time you answered his fingers moved another inch up your leg until his fingers were tracing the outline of your panties.

“Take your clothes off angel. I want to see you.” He cooed while pulling the band of your panties down while you lifted yourself up enough for him to slide them off. You pulled your shirt and bra off and threw them on the floor. Your heart rate quickened as you felt your need for him growing.

His fingers traced up and down your slit lightly, just grazing you, teasing you.

“You’re so desperate, already soaking wet for me. I can even hear it.” He listened while he ran his fingers between your puffy lips, hearing the sound of his fingers gliding through your slick.

“Stop teasing me Gojo.” You panted out, annoyed with his game. He felt some of your cursed energy seeping into the room, he didn’t think you were even aware that you were trying to curse him.

“If you don’t drop the attitude, you won’t get anything.” His face turned to stone as he spread your legs further apart.

“Tell me angel, do you get lonely up here?” He asked while he regarded your naked body with fondness and desire.

You shook your head, surprised at his boldness before you answered him.  “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes.”

His finger dipped into your entrance slowly, he groaned quietly as he slid in easily. He began pumping his finger in and out of you, his eyes were glued to the sight of his finger shimmering with your wetness.

“Hmm... did you miss me?” His aura had shifted, feeling a sudden coldness wash over you.

“You really are full of yourself.” You retorted.

He gripped your chin in his hands before squeezing them together.

“Answer me.” He released you, his eyes bored into you. You felt him looking through you, you felt even more naked under his gaze.

“Y-yeah. I did.”

He stroked your cheek again as his thumb brushed against your clit. Your back arched and muscles clenched around him. You lost yourself in the feeling, but you wanted him to give you more.

“Have you been talking to anyone, besides me of course?”

You couldn’t think straight while he curled his finger deep inside of you, brushing against your walls in a way that made your toes curl. You moaned before clenching your hands into fists, you shook your head.

“N-not really.” You choked out.

He frowned and slid another finger inside you. You gasped at how good the stretch felt with his long fingers inside you. He brushed his thumb against your clit again, eliciting an uncontrollable moan to out of you.

“Were you planning on telling me that my friend was texting you today? It’s not nice to keep secrets from friends angel.” His voice dropped several octaves while his movements slowed to a halt.

You froze, stunned that you forgot to tell him but even more shocked by the fact that he knew the whole time. Slowly you shook your head.

You sat up and tried to explain,” Gojo I wa- “.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet as he towered over you.

“On your knees.” He commanded. “Maybe you can earn the right to call me Satoru.”

************************************************************************

Not my favorite chapter but I'm so excited about where it's going!

Angst to come!

Thank you for reading, likes and reblogging is appreciated, It helps spread my work! Much love.

Please do not repost. I do not own any jjk characters or artwork.

@purpleguk @shuxjodie @kama-star @creolequeen11210 @herosinos @fonkymonkeyfriday @coffee-addict-32

[brooooswriting]

Situations 2

Situations 1, situations 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Jenna Ortega x reader

The last couple of days have been hard on you and Jenna. You’ve been working constantly, your boss was up your ass the whole time while you tried to please him and keep in contact with Jenna as much as possible.

Jenna was scared to leave her home without anyone, the last couple of days her dad was with her as he was there to visit her but yesterday was his last day. She’s been texting and calling you every chance she had, looking for the comfort only you were able to give her. The whole situation took a big toll on her and her mental health, obvious to everybody.

And to make it worse, someone leaked what happened and videos of the two of you. You found it rather disgusting, how could someone Film all of this instead of helping? Nonetheless, you now had around 50000 follower more and you hated it.

You were sitting at your desk, annoyed, trying to finish your work when your phone next to you rang. Carefully picking up the phone your face lit up when you saw Jenna’s name.

“Good evening darling” you mumbled out as you tried to keep tipping. “Hello y/n/n” she said, you could hear how nervous she was but decided not to ask. She was going to tell you if she wanted you to know. After a beat of silence she spoke up again.

“Are you busy at the moment?” Her voice was quiet and small. “Never to busy for you, what can I do for you?” Your voice was cheerful and happy, sure you were stressed but you’d let everything fall if she needed you. “I haven’t left my house since yesterday and I’d like to go for a walk…” she stopped mid talking as she knew you knew what she was going to ask. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes hun” you said your goodbyes before hanging up.

You stood in front of your closet panicking, you hadn’t seen her again since the accident. Sure, you talked on the phone and over FaceTime but that was different. After changing into around 40 different outfits before deciding for a black skinny jeans and a Bordeaux silk button up with the sleeves slightly rolled up. It was a bit more fancy than what you normally wore but you didn’t want to embarrass her.

Picking up your skateboard you went up the porch to knock on the door. “Y/n” she smiled as she closed the door behind her. “Hello darling” she gave you a quick hug as you bent down to kiss her cheek. “Ready for a walk?” Walking down the stairs with her you playfully bumped your shoulder into hers.

“Sooo, how was work?” She carefully asked, unsure of what to say as this was completely different. You gave each other a quick look before laughing, you guys hated small talk it was something you learned about the other rather quickly. “I love it when you try to make small talk” you grinned causing her to gasp and lightly hit your shoulder.

After another moment of silence you decided to move past the small talk. “So how are you? I mean like actually with you know everything that happened.” She sighed lowering her head to look at her feet. “I’m getting there. As you can see I’m still not ready to go out alone but you know” while the actress was embarrassed of her behavior you were pretty proud. “You’re doing great. No discussion!”

After that there was silence again, a comfortable one. The sun was slowly setting, you and Jenna walking into the sun set. It was pretty dark by now, the silence was broken every now and then by random questions and discussions. But all in all it was going well, she was relaxed and seemed happy.

That was until a man, pretty drunk, walked towards you. He was babbling, stumbling towards Jenna who quickly panicked. You made out words like “Jenna Ortega”, “photo” and “hot”. Best guess you had was that he recognized her and just wanted a picture, but in the brunettes state that was a clear no.

So you pulled your sunglasses down so they covered your face before putting down your skateboard and stepping in front of her, your arm shielding her. “I’m sorry sir, but I have to ask you step away” your voice didn’t leave any room for him to argue so he grumbled before walking away.

Before you turned around to face the trembling girl behind you you saw several people filming and taking pictures with her phones and cameras. Shaking your head you turned around to see some tears stream down her face. “Come on, let’s get away from here” you mumbled to her. “Is it okay if I wrap my arm around you? There are cameras on us” you informed her. While you didn’t get a verbal one, you got a physical one. She threw herself into your arms which gave you an opportunity to pull her away, pushing your board with one of your feet.

You pulled the girl along until you were away from prying eyes. “Are you okay sweetheart?” By now her tears had stopped flowing and her breath was slightly normal. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the way I threw myself at you” she mumbled. You leaned down to kiss her head “no need to say sorry! You’re alright, he didn’t do anything, I guess he just wanted a picture with you” you explained stroking her back softly.

After another minute you spoke up again. “Let’s get you home alright?” She nodded hesitantly parting from you and making her way down the street. You caught up to her holding out your hand, she immediately grabbed your hand finding comfort in it.

Jenna was fascinated by you, the feeling of safety that you gave her was incredible. The way you hugged her after the guy came made her feel so warm inside.

“Ever rode a skateboard?” You randomly asked her as you looked at the board in your hand. “No, not really why?” Her voice was still slightly shaking but better than before. You let the board glide to the ground signaling her to get on it. “Are you crazy?” She laughed causing you to smile too. “No, come on. I’ll hold you” you promised which seems to do the job as she carefully put on of her feet onto the board. Before she lifted her other foot you carefully grabbed her hips to stabilize her. A faint blush coating her cheeks when she realized where your hands were.

Turns out Jenna had a pretty great balance but still struggled to move the board on her own, so you pushed her by the hips for the rest of the way.

The actress was surprised when you arrived at her home, the way back seemed like a maximum of 10 minutes which clearly couldn’t be the case, but you managed to distract her to the point where she didn’t even think about the man anymore.

“Good Night y/n/n” she mumbled as she hugged you goodbye, “good night hun” you smiled as you parted and waited until she closed the door before riding back home.

When you arrived at your apartment you looked at your phone to see yourself tagged in over 100 posts and some articles. One of them immediately catching your eye.

Jenna Ortegas new girlfriend or bodyguard?

Jenna Ortega was seen with the same girl the second time this week. People who saw them said that there was a connection between them that was indescribable. But it also was the second time the girl protected the actress from pushy fans.

So now fans are asking, is this Jenna Ortegas new girlfriend? Or is she just the bodyguard?

[mysadblacksoul]

Backslide - 3/13 of the Clancy album

Grab a coffee and let's start this madness

MV

Tyler is wearing the same clothes that he wore in Overcompensate MV to I would assume that this MV takes place right after

Let's break down the signs first

We see the return of Ned Bayou as well as FPA, now standing for Food Petrol Etc.

You can buy 9 buns for $21, love the symbolism

There is a Jim sign omg. Baby is having his own bubblegum business

Of course the Bishops sign with 9 lines marked on it

I could've sworn that the black sign says "Dema Vapes", but looking closely I believe it's "Velma Vapes" lol

What is more, the cones (?) are yellow and I'm pretty sure that the fact that there are 5 of them is not an accident

They sold him bread that went bad lol. Nah for sure it's not the case since he gives the same bread to a child

But I believe that the scene and the lyrics are closely tied with Stressed Out

Now the next scene is interesting

I think that the bad weather is a simple metaphor for feelings of anxiety or fear

We can see that Tyler was contemplating then he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts

This is when the scene changes to normal, right? Exactly on the line It's over my head

Then we move to the scene with the kid

And I really believe that this little lad is personification of Ned

Like he has the same boba eyes lol

No but for real, this is parallel to Chlorine - kid is giving Tyler a cup just like Tyler gave to Ned. Yet he accepts it and drinks whatever is inside and Ned just shudders

Another interesting thing, that could make my point more valid is that the kid literally asks Is that a stain? You should change / Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? like he knows Tyler very well and is in a way looking out for him

It's like he's keeping Ned by him - okat I'll stop

It might be a stretch, but the N kinda looks like a mirrored band symbol, do you also see it?

If 0.75c is equivalent to the cost of one bun than Tyler is being ripped off since he paid $21 for the pack instead of $6.75 lmao

Something is really wrong with those buns lmao

Then the mood changes again, but this time is even worse. Like his mental health is declining even more and even faster

The bread is wet, the day is ruined, thanks Mr. Joseph

You killed it Josh, love your creative mind

*funny music stops*

Now let's talk about the way how the MV is looping itself

I would say that it is a demonstration of the twisted circle that is life

Maybe it's a very basic analysis but I think of all the complicated lore-oriented MVs this one is uncomplicated

What is shown here is how our psyche can play tricks on us and how we can complicate a rather simple situation ourselves

If Tyler hadn't had dark thoughts then nothing would have happened to the bread, so he would have just gone and given it to Josh

This shows how our psyche itself can abolish the situation in which we find ourselves

Looping, on the other hand, shows that as long as we don't do anything about it ourselves, we will be stuck in this fishbowl (see what I did there?)

Maybe it's one big AD to check your mental health and a sign to try to get better

Lyrics!

Rat race, place to place, adding weight / Tendencies on repeat, innit? - rat race for sure happened in Dema, and repeat is literaly the loop, innit meand that Clancy is canonicaly British

Benefit from a shoe with no lace - shoe with no lace would make you fall back on the behaviour that you are running from

Take the seat with the crease in it - seat of someone who already tried to change their life, or even who had the same dreams and hopes for better future like Clancy

This could be parallel to When I leave, don’t save my seat/ I’ll be back when it’s all complete from Chlorine

I don't care, you control me / Leading me anywhere - well, all I should say is Dema don't control me and we all know the rest of the story

I don't wanna backslide to where I've started from - he doesn't wanna go back to his back habits as well as doesn't wanna go back to his life before he tried to escape

There's no chance I will shake this again - if he falls back one more time that will be the end of him. His psyche won't take it anymore and his plans will be buried

'Cause I feel the pull, water's over my head - this is parallel to Fall Away And I, I can feel the pull begin. But it also gives me the parallel to Holding On To You MV, the scene with the rope

Strength enough for one more time - like I said, this would be the last attempt to change everything

Reach my hand above the tide - it could indicate that his physical strength is also wearing out

I'll take anything you have / If you could throw me a line - again with the line. But it also can mean that he can endure anything now, he just needs a little helping hand

I should've loved you better - this line can be directed both to himself but also to the person who extends his hand to help. He might not have appreciated both parts before and now regrets it

Do you think that now's the time / You should let go? - This line is like both a request and an apology. As if he wants to say “I'm sorry I treated you badly before but please don't leave me when I need help”

Bad place, on a hundred-dollar bass - this line is also giving me Stressed Out. You can imagine the cheap bass being transported on the bicycle right?

Kinda wishin' that I never did "Saturday" - I think that he doesn't mean the MV irl lol, but the regret of taking part in Bishops' manipulation altogether

Is that a stain? You should change - a play with mentioning Saturday and the lirycs She said that I should change my clothes

Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? - like I said before I believe that this is Ned looking out for Clancy, wishing him well

Thanks for asking, in a way, but / Accidentally uncovered a new one yesterday - safe to say that he is not doing better lol

What happened to what I brushed under the rug? - what happened to how well he used to be able to hide his problems and true feelings

I used to be the champion of a world you can't see / Now I'm drowning in logistics - if viewed as a fact that he created this world it now looks like he wants to regain all control over it. Logistics is to take care of the management of planning. And once again we see the mention of drowning

The bridge is acting as an externalization of his myhs and fears that even if he is outside the Dema, the Bishops will still have control over him

The entire song is about both regaining conrol over the world of Dema but also regaining control over himself, his psyche.

The main theme is about not going back to old habits.

The most important thing here is progress and pushing forward.

Because one wrong move can make all the work in vain and we will sink to the very bottom.

Safe to say that I liked it haha

[yazthebookish]

I just reread the bonus chapter and I'm just, as always, struck by how fucking obvious Gwyn and Azriel's set up is.

✨ He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him. It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running, Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

I'm telling you those shadows are going to play wingmen for Az.

✨ His shadows peered over his wings at her. The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.

Does anyone ever really smile at his shadows except for Gwyn 😭

✨ "Happy Solstice," she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing. -- He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?" -- Gwyn's teal eyes flashed with alarm. "No! I mean, I don't mind sharing the ring. I just...I know you like to be alone." Her mouth  quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. "Is that why you came up here?"

Gwyn really indirectly said he was going to be a brooding ass so let's wish him a happy solstice and let him go and he still teased her back instead of taking the opening she gave him. Also, no one pays enough attention to this detail but SHE KNOWS he likes to be alone 👀 girl is paying close attention to him alright 👀

✨ Sort of. "I forgot something," he reminded her. -- "At two in the morning?" Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."-- "A comfort to every growing child." -- Azriel's lips twitched.

Gwyn has no filters on I love her 😂😂😂 she really indirectly called his lying ass out.

✨ "How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. -- "Fine," he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. "It was nice."   Not much better. So he asked, "Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?"

For a 500+ year old immortal Az you should've been better at this game, but I'm proud of you for at least being self-aware and trying to have a normal conversation. 2/5 on the effort but still appreciated.

✨ She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. "Do you sing?” -- He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but..."Why do you ask?" -- "They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?" -- “I am a shadowsinger--it's not a title that someone just made.” -- She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" -- Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."

1. Not many people take him by surprise but she did. -- 2. I wouldn't be surprised because it's funny as hell if she asked him because of shadowSINGER -- 3. Azriel taking offense and reaffirming he is, in fact, a SHADOWSINGER. -- 4. Sarah confirmed there will be a scene of him singing, as far as we know Gwyn is likely the only character who knows he does, also the fact that SJM created something common between the two of them and it's that they both sing? -- 5. It's sweet to think that Gwyn wanted to know something about him and asked him about something she herself loves to do, which is sing.

✨ "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I’ll give you that."  

Gwyn complaining about Nessian and Az is like "I can relate " 😂

✨ Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." -- Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.  

She smiled at him and both him and his shadows felt calm 🥹 like compare how aloof and depressed he was at the start of his scene with Gwyn to him feeling this just after one conversation with her 😭😭 it's so 😭😭 I love them so fucking much.

✨ Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

"That charming irreverence" Gwyn is so unapologetic about that irreverence I love her for it -- also, that's a clear, in-your-face, clue about a mating bond. I stand by that and my opinion remains unchanged since I first read the bonus chapter in 2021.

✨ Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, "I’ll give it to Gwyneth, Tell her a friend left it for her". -- He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... "Fine. Thank you."  

I don't really find this alarming when people try to push into my face. It's obvious they're not in love "yet" and Azriel doesn't have any friends outside the IC, he doesn't know how to label it. It's still early to even label it. That "but..." leaves an opening there.

✨ Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her. -- Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  -- But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. -- A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

When Clotho thanked him for the joy the gift wil bring to Gwyn that's when something sparked in him. That's when he started to picture that joy. "For whatever reason" she's likely your mate bro that's why but we'll save that for later. He was aware and conscious enough to erase his smile yet bury the image of Gwyn's joy in his chest. He had a DAMN SMILE on his face while thinking of Gwyn's joy, like, that's so precious 😭 and Clotho is 100% true, she deserves all the joy the world has to offer for her (I just wish it wasn't a necklace meant for someone else). I get the kindness behind the act but it can bite him in the ass if SJM brings it up in the main book.

That's only a teaser for what's to come and that's the purpose of the bonus chapter. I can see why Sarah was more excited for readers to read Azriel's chapter than Feysand's chapter. She knew what she was doing here and what she's setting up. I didn't want to post the earlier scenes since I don't want to deal with people showing up with pitchforks and I don't need to talk about other ships I'm happy and content to gush about my own.

Every time I reread this chapter it just reminds me of how obvious Gwyn and Azriel's set up is and you don't need a pairing to bang or make out to create a set up. We didn't even get much but they are going to be such a fun couple, I need more of funny and easy-going Azriel.

[racheyace]

Has Matt ever actually accidentally hurt Luke when he was shrunk before?

Another late reply to this ask! Again I'm sorry! But also your idea is the second runner up in the polls! So congratulations!

I'm really happy with how this story came out, also there is much angst! You've been warned!

Approx 3.3k words

Broken

“Luke! I hope you’ve already settled on the idea of takeout tonight cos I am so not in the mood to provide sustenance!” Matt groaned as he shut the apartment door behind him.

It had been a particularly taxing 12-hour shift for Matt, and he was honestly ready to just go to bed without dinner if there was nothing quick and easy to eat.

The apartment was quiet, but Matt hardly noticed being too tired to care much at the moment, he instead slid open the balcony door and promptly lit a cigarette, leaning heavily on the railing and fighting to keep his head held up straight.

He stood there for a long while, for once his mind was quiet, the sounds of the streets the only thing he could hear as the sunset for the day and he found himself admiring the orange and purple hues of the misty skyline. New York could be so very ugly sometimes, too busy, too loud, too many idiots and too much violence, but it could also be quite beautiful, Matt found himself smiling softly to himself and soaking in the view.

When he got back inside, he noticed with a little more alertness that Luke hadn’t said a word since he’d gotten home, which was strange.

Matt walked through to their small kitchen and turned the kettle on, ready to make himself a coffee and as he did so, he opened up his phone to look at the last messages he’d gotten from Luke that day.

Around mid-day Luke had sent a message to him reading:

‘Five hours to go! You got this!’

And then another message at 3:30pm reading:

‘At least you don’t have an hour of meetings this afternoon! What would you like for dinner?’

Matt had responded with:

‘So done with today! I’d be happy just to eat grass right now mooo! You choose.’

And then the last message from Luke was from only half an hour ago at 5:30pm:

‘Salad it is, your favourite! I’ll think of something, also the tv is doing weird shit again, I’ll sort it out tomorrow, see you when you get home’

“So weird, he should be here.” Matt said to himself as he added milk and sugar to his coffee.

Taking a sip, he headed for the balcony again, figuring that Luke may have gone out to get dinner or something from the shop. He paused at the sliding door though when another possibility entered his mind.

“Luke?” He called out again. “Are you small right now?”

Luke was usually pretty good about letting Matt know when he was small which honestly was not very often. Whatever Luke had on him at the time of the shift would shift with him, so if he was small Luke would normally have sent Matt a text to let him know. That, or he would call out, it could be dangerous for Luke when he was small, particularly if Matt didn’t know where he was.

There was still no reply.

Matt decided he needed to do some elimination, so first he headed down to the garage to see if Luke’s car was still there, which it was, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t gone out, there was a takeaway place down the street that Luke would walk to from here. Matt then pulled out his phone again to call his missing friend.

It rang and rang and then went to the message bank.

“I swear to god Luke, if you shrank without your phone on you, I’m gonna kill you, if I don’t step on you first of course, fuck!” Matt shivered at the thought.

It was a very real possibility and one that had given Matt nightmares in the past, not that the scenario had ever even come close to happening in reality, it still made Matt uncomfortable to think about.

Matt headed back upstairs to their apartment and dialled Luke’s number again, this time he could hear a ringing, though it was very faint, probably coming from a very small mobile phone. He tried to follow the sound but then it went to the message bank again and he groaned in frustration.

“Luke I’ve had the shittest day, could you just come out, I don’t have the energy for this stupid game of cat and mouse.” Matt said to the empty apartment, again there was no response.

With a hand slowly dragging down his tired face, he paused remembering that Luke would also shrink when he was sad, tired or scared. The last time Luke had shrunk when he was sad was when Luke and Jason had broken up, that time he’d also not called out or texted Matt that he was small. Matt had found him sobbing by the front door, he also hadn’t had to go searching for him because he was out in the open, but Luke was nowhere to be seen right now.

Matt realised that his last comment was probably kind of harsh, particularly if Luke was upset, but he had nothing to go on, just a tiny ringing and no Luke.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired, please call out or make a noise if you can, I’m starting to freak out over here.” Matt said more gently this time.

He walked over to the loungeroom, watching his step and sat down on the couch after also checking that it was Luke free, including checking under the cushions.

Matt then noticed the blue screen of death was on their tv and remembered that Luke had said something about the tv being broken again.

He stared at the awful blue screen for a few minutes, and then it struck him that Luke had said something about the tv in his last text.

Matt pulled out his phone once more and redialled Luke’s number, the faint ringing could be heard again and as Matt slowly moved closer to the entertainment unit, he could hear it getting louder.

“Luke?” Matt called out again after the phone went to voicemail once more.

“M-matt!?” Luke’s small voice called out, and Matt breathed a sigh of relief at the sound.

He’d finally gotten a response and he couldn’t believe what Luke was doing, clearly, he’d decided to try and fix the problematic television himself and most likely gotten himself stuck or something.

“Dude, are you seriously inside the Tv right now?” Matt asked incredulously.

“No I-I was in the wire box thing-the thing behind the tv and now….I’m not sure, I think I-fell.” Matt had to strain to hear him, he still sounded so far away.

Carefully he pulled the entertainment unit away from the wall and found the box that Luke had mentioned, a small white box with wires coming out of it that were then connected to the tv.

“Are you hurt?” Matt asked with his hands on the white box, ready to pull it from the wall but hesitating when he realised that he could potentially hurt Luke in the process.

“I-I think I was-electrocuted.” Came Luke’s muffled response.

“Jesus fucking Christ Luke.” Matt was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration with his idiotic roommate. “Are you still in the white box? What can you see?”

Turns out Matts long day as a paramedic was not yet over, he would have to pull a full search and rescue on his best friend, he’d pulled many people out of walls before, never one so small though.

“I’m not in the white box…” Luke began. “I’m in the wall-but I’m stuck-the wires are all around me-Matt I can’t move!”

“It’s alright Luke, I’ll get you out of there, just try not to move much, I’ll be back in a sec.” Matt moved away from the wall and went looking for some tools that he may need.

Once all the necessary equipment was acquired, he returned to the space behind the Tv, with a stethoscope in his ear, he placed the metal end to the wall and began to listen carefully.

“Marco.” Matt said, figuring lightening the mood would ease both of their nerves.

“Polo!” Luke called, his voice was a little further down the wall and Matt repositioned the stethoscope.

“Marco.”

“POLO!”

“Bingo.” Matt smiled, he pulled out a pencil and marked the spot on the wall.

Now if he was with his team, they’d discuss strategies, either cutting a hole from above or below, but Matt didn’t have a team so he would have to work out the best course of action himself.

If he cut from below, Luke could be stuck with a mess of wires tangled around his legs which would make it difficult to pull him downward from. If he cut from above Luke, then it was possible he’d be able to lift Luke back up the way he’d come. If worst came to worst, he’d have to cut some wires to free his small friend.

“Now, I’m going to cut a hole in the wall above you, it may be noisy, I’ll try to be quick, but I’ve only got our little handsaw to work with.” Matt gave a nervous chuckle and waited for Luke to respond.

“Okay!” Luke shouted in response to his friend’s plan.

Matt pushed the saw into the wall about 8 inches from the line that he’d marked, if he estimated correctly, he should make the hole a few inches above Luke’s head.

The handsaw was rusty and pretty much useless, so it took a good ten minutes for Matt to make a square big enough for even just his hand to fit through. With a grunt of effort Matt pulled the square piece of plaster out of the wall and then made to look inside but it was far to dark to make out anything except the wires directly behind the hole.

Matt grabbed his phone and held it in the hole with the camera on flash, the flash setting illuminated the space and the camera showed Matt what he was working with. Luke was indeed tangled and didn’t look like he was fairing too well, Matt thought he looked rather pale, his hair was a staticky mess, and he was indeed very tangled.

“Hey buddy.” Matt said in a quieter tone and smiled when Luke’s little blue eyes looked upward and squinted into the light.

Luke was very stuck, not only were his legs tangled as Matt had suspected but both his arms were looped by wires as well as his chest. Matt wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to get so tangled, it was actually quite impressive.

“You are pretty wedged in there. Are you in any pain? Do you have any burns?” Matt asked, still looking at the camera trying to see any physical injuries that Luke may have gotten.

“I’ve got a burn on my hand and that kinda hurts, I’m cold and sort of tingly but that’s probably from shock, right?” Luke’s blue eyes looked up toward the camera again after looking over his own body the best he could.

“Yeah, electrical shock, your gonna need to go to hospital when I figure out how to get you out of there.” Matt grumbled, his long day was going to turn into a long night so it seemed.

Matt picked up the pair of pliers and hesitated as he thought over how he was going to do this. There were five wires, three of them were wrapped around Luke in one way or another.

He could cut the two wires holding his arms but then he would still be stuck around his middle, or possibly fall further into the wall. If he cut one of the wires holding his arms, then Luke could hold onto the wire with his other hand when his midsection was freed.

Matt would then need to pull Luke out and hope that the upward movement would be enough to free his other hand in the process. It was all he could come up with for the moment and it would have to do, he needed to get Luke out of there and to a hospital as quickly as he could.

“Alright, I’ve got a plan.” Matt explained his idea to his friend and Luke agreed that it seemed like the best option.

Matt pinched the wire that held Luke’s injured hand and made the first cut, Luke gasped as the taught wire went limp and with a small shake it fell far below him. One done, one to go.

“Hold onto the wire now, I’ll try to be fast.” Matt warned, as he pinched the wire that was holding Luke’s midsection captive.

Luke winced as the wire tightened momentarily around his stomach, his knuckles white around the wire that held his left arm, and then his stomach was free as the second wire fell through the wall below him.

Wasting no time, Matt reached his hand in, having to go in blind for this part, his fingers extended toward Luke, only two of his fingers could fit far enough in and they bumped into the miniscule body, causing Luke to sway on the wire.

“Matt hurry!” Luke gasped, legs dangling and his palm becoming sweaty.

“Give me your hand.” Matt called down.

Luke’s free hand reach toward the large fingers and when he placed his palm on the pad of Matt’s middle finger, Matt pinched Luke’s hand between the two. This would be a judgment game, too much pressure and he would break Luke’s hand, too little pressure and Luke would fall.

“Does that feel secure?” Matt asked.

“A little tight but good, don’t let go!” Luke called upward.

“I’m gonna pull you up now, ready?” Matt felt small beads of sweat building on his own forehead, he shook the stray strands of blonde hair that had fallen out of his ponytail out of his eyes and focused.

“Yep!” Was Luke’s high pitched response.

Matt began to slowly pull his hand out of the wall, beads of sweat formed on his forehead at the painstaking pace and then his heart dropped into his stomach when he heard Luke cry out in pain. There was a small pop of muscle that Matt could feel had come from Luke and he stopped immediately, almost losing his grasp on his Luke’s hand.

“Are you okay? What happened? Is your hand free? Luke!?” Matt was hysterical, he couldn’t let go of Luke’s hand between his fingers for fear he would fall.

Matt’s mind was racing, had he pulled too hard? Too fast? Had he injured his best friend in an attempt to save him?

“Ahhh!” Luke cried out again in agony, before responding properly. “I-It’s free p-pull me out!” Luke’s voice was laced with pain and Matt feared the worst.

Finally, his fingers were free of the wall, and he pulled Luke out immediately laying him in his open palm. Luke clutched his left shoulder and was visibly shaking.

“M-my shoulder.” Luke cried, tears falling down his dusty cheeks.

“D-did I do that?” Matt asked in a state of shock and fear, his worst fear, that he would hurt his best friend when he was so small.

“I-I think its dislocated ahhhh” Luke winced touching his sore arm and immediately regretting it.

“I’m so sorry Luke, I didn’t mean to I-“

“It’s okay Matt, I’m okay, ahhhh, just-can-you put it back?” Luke’s eyes met his once more, Matt was shaking his head, his hands shaking and feeling as though he was only making things worse, he quickly lay Luke down on the carpeted floor.

“I-I can’t.” Matt was stunned, he looked at his hands as though they weren’t his own, his fingers trembled furiously.

“You’re a paramedic.” Luke said through gritted teeth.

Matt almost laughed, he didn’t feel like much of a paramedic right now. He was supposed to heal people and get them to help faster, he wasn’t supposed to injure his patients, how could he have done this to his best friend?

“I-I’m too big.” Matt sat down on the carpet, utterly at a loss as to what to do now, how could he help his friend without making everything worse or hurting him further?

Matt seemed to drift off into space, he could no longer hear Luke talking to him or trying to calm him down, everything was dull and foggy, the only thing he could hear was his heart beating in his ears and the tingling of his shaky body.

Perhaps his nightmare had come true, he had dreamt years ago that Luke had been hurt by his own monstrous hands. He could hear Luke’s small voice begging with him, pleading with him and yet there was nothing he could do, he was simply too big, too rough and too dangerous.

“MATT!” Luke was shouting in his face now, waving his hands in front of his face to try and snap his friend out of his trance.

“L-Luke?” Matt asked, his brain not fully comprehending that his friend was now his usual size and shaking his shoulders.

“H-how? What?” Matt didn’t even know what to think, Luke was normal sized again, he wasn’t gripping his shoulder in pain, the colour had returned to his face, and he seemed to be okay.

“Super healing remember?” Luke smiled at him, showing his hands to Matt and finding no evidence of an electrical burn, or a dislocated shoulder, it was as though nothing had happened at all.

Matt finally snapped out of his stupor and tackled Luke to the floor, hugging his friend furiously and cursing him for his stupidity for getting himself into that kind of situation.

When he calmed down, he released Luke and offered him a hand to help him up off the floor, he then made a beeline for the balcony, figuring he had earnt himself a cigarette after that stressful event. Still not fully believing that he hadn’t just imagined the whole thing, he could still feel the small pop through his fingers as he’d pulled Luke’s shoulder out of it’s socket.

The nausea still swimming in his stomach at the reality that he’d hurt his best friend, hurt Luke when he’d been at his most vulnerable.

“Are you sure you feel fine?” Matt asked once seated in his usual chair on the balcony, Luke sitting in the other chair beside him.

“Really, I’m okay, I’m sorry I scared you, it was stu-“

“I’m the one who should be sorry, I could have ripped your damned arm off!” Matt still couldn’t shake the queasiness in his stomach at what he’d done to his friend, he didn’t deserve to be forgiven so easily.

Luke had trusted him, and Matt had hurt him.

“Matt come on, don’t do this, this is my thing, I’m supposed to be the one riddled with self-loathing and unable to forgive myself, not you.” Luke began but Matt wasn’t listening, instead looking off into the distance and shaking his head as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“You’re the hero this time Matt, you saved me.” Luke insisted. “I can’t thank you enough honestly.”

Matt crushed out his cigarette and stood up.

“I’m gonna head to bed, we’ll need to call an actual electrician tomorrow, goodnight.” Matt brushed past him and made his way into his room before promptly closing the door and leaving Luke sitting there in the cool night air.

He wasn’t sure if he was mad at Luke, or angry with himself, all he knew right now was that he didn’t want to talk about it and he desperately needed some sleep. Perhaps forgiveness and closure would come in the morning, but he wasn’t going to find it that night.

Oh no! The tv is broken! Luke was broken! And now we’ve managed to break Matt! My poor boys! Who else agrees that Matt deserves a holiday, the poor boy needs a day at the spa.

[mingyuluv4567]

Bangchan x Fem Idol reader!

Warnings- fluff, Making out, hickeys, dirty talk..

Descripción- Bangchan leaves a hickey on readers neck. fans notice a hickey on Readers neck during a live!

@ Chan recording studio 4:56 pm JYP company

“ chan- i really have to go jia is going to be waiting for me.” You spoke. However Chan was to busy leaving kiss down her neck to respond, finally Reader had enough and pulled Chan off. Chan pouted a little bit “ Reader.. but I miss you we haven’t seen each other in two weeks…” You sighed knowing her boyfriend was right, you had been really busy with your new comeback and it was doing really well.

You looked at Chan,and could tell he really missed you . You felt really guilty for leaving him but she didn’t want to get in trouble. “ I know channie but I’ll be back after the live, it’s just an hour I promise I’ll be back when it’s over okay?” Chan was silent but slowly nodded his head. You got off Chan lap and kissed forehead one more time. “ I’ll be back okay?” Said reader

“ See you..”responded Chan. You felt really guilty has she closed the door. You knew your boyfriend wanted to spend time with you but due to busy schedules they couldn’t. You check your phone and saw it was 5:03.’ Fuck the live started 3 minutes ago..’ you saw a bunch of text messages from her band mate jia.

Reader walked to the live room quickly, she opened the door and saw jia talking to the fans. “ Yeah I liked the food it was really good.. where reader?.. oh she went to the bathroom.” Jia responded. ‘ thank you jia I own you sooo bad’ reader thought. Reader walked in the room and sat next to jia. “ Hii guys sorry I was kinda late it never happen again” you responded. The chat filled up with ‘it’s okay’ , ‘hiii reader’ and ‘ don’t be late again.’ Just crazy and normal fandom stuff.

You looked at jia and she gave you a “really” look back.. you turned slowly to the camera and started talking about your day and what you did of course leaving Chan out of part of your talking, you also started answering questions about your comeback and your concerts. It went on like this for 25 mins.

It was started to get hot so you moved your hair back from your shoulders ( i am so sorry if you don’t have long hair.😭) The chat was normal for a sec until it blew up. You and jia looked concerned and confused you didn’t know what was happening. Finally the comments slowed down a little bit you were able to read one comment.” OMG IS THAT A HICKEY ON READERS NECK???”

Your eyes widen in shock, jia started reading the comments and turn to look at you. You heard a ding and saw you got a text for Chan. It read “ oops🙂” you were gonna kill him. So for the 25 minutes you explained to your fan that’s your burned your self with a curling iron yesterday that’s why it’s still so red. It was believable to fans because your latest Instagram post was you with wavey hair. (My curly hair people I am so sorry you guys can change that)

finally the live ended and you say your goodbyes. Once the live was off you fell back on your couch. “ reader what the heck did Chan do that?” She looked at you in a smirking way you look at her with a flat face “ of course he did, he must has did this while we’re kissing..im going to kill him..” Jia laughed.” Good luck with that I’m going out see ya” she said as she packer her things up. You waved and then got up your self to go see your boyfriend

You walked down to Chan recording room knowing he be there you knocked on the door. You heard a “come inn” you came in and looked at your boyfriend who had a smug on his face. You came in and close the door. Chan got up from his chair and pulled you over to the couch and sat you on his lap. You look at him” chan..why would you do that.”

He smiled and hugged you tight” because I missed you duh!!” You smiled back but fixed your face to serious right away” Chan I know you missed me but-“ your sentence got cut off and before you can finish it Chan started kissing you. You were suprised but gave in a few seconds later. You guys pulled back still in a daze.

“ I know I was wrong to put a hickey and not remind you before you left” he said pouting a little bit. You chuckled and grabbed your boyfriend face.” Chan I don’t care if you leave hickeys on me just let me know in advice okay?” You said smiling. Chan smiled back and answered with an okay. For the rest of the night you guys chilled and talked to each other with Chan occasionally kiss your neck and you.

That’s the end I hope someone reads it😭 it’s gonna get better when I do a lot my writing will become better so i hope this was good and okay 😭

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

Ahh! I love them so much!!!

0. The slow burn

1. There are too many. TOO MANY!!

Part 1 - the bad day

Part 2 - the injury

Part 3 - the sleepover

Part 4 - the lovesick teenager/the gym

Part 5 - the eyedrops

Warnings: none.

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

It had been a few days since she’d last seen him. The nurses had put her on an IV for two days before clearing her to leave. Then she’d taken another day of rest before returning to HQ to check on Miguel: he hadn’t been to visit her once since their last mission. Not a ‘how are you feeling’ or a simple ‘hola, arañita’, not even through text! She bounced into the control room, her footsteps getting even lighter when she saw him standing on the platform by his computer. “Miguel? Are you busy?”

     She webbed up to the platform to stand beside him, but he didn’t look up, refusing to meet her gaze. “Yes.” 

     “Oh,” she said when he didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t ever so brusque with her - not with her. “Um, I’m fine now! The doctors said I was all right.”

More silence. She took a step closer to him, trying to sneak a glance at whatever he was working on. “Can I help?”

     “No.”

Her stomach churned as she wondered if he might be angry. Not at her, maybe, but … She tugged on her chair, dragging it closer to her so she could take a seat beside him. 

“I’ll just-” He sighed loudly, interrupting her. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Can you just … go?” She froze, stunned by the response.

  “W-What?” He turned back to his screens. 

     “I don’t need you messing up my missions anymore,” he told her, his voice flat, emotionless. “Just go fight some lowlife criminals from your dimension or something. Seems to be the only thing you’re actually good at.” Her chest tightened at his response, the tears beginning to build up behind her eyes. How could he say that? 

“How can you say that, Miguel?” He turned to face her, his brows pulled low in a frown. 

     “Because!” He took a step closer to her, his expression thunderous as he towered over her. “You’re incapable and incompetent! You almost got yourself killed on a mission even Pav and Hobie had no trouble with!”

Because she’d saved them! They’d only had no trouble because she was the one who’d defeated Loki, the one who’d saved them all! But the fear was too great for her to speak, seeping into her bones and squeezing around her insides. She curled into herself, backing away from him slowly, meticulously avoiding his gaze. 

     “How could you be so stupid?!” he continued, taking a step forward every time she took one back. “How could you, of all people, be so dumb?!” She stopped, her foot finding empty space when she tried to take another step backwards. 

     “Just … go home to your comics or whatever,” he finished, returning to his computer. “I don’t need you here anymore.” She opened her mouth to try to respond, but then shut it again, too terrified to say anything. What if she spoke and another hurtful insult fell from his lips? She slapped her hand over her mouth as a sob slipped out. Then she turned and ran far away from him. 

     Peter strolled into the room, whistling a tune from one of the cartoons Mayday had started watching recently. It was a cheery tune, one that had gotten stuck in his head and refused to leave. He waved a hand up at Miguel, brooding on the platform as he normally did. “Hey, Miguel! Where’s X? I haven’t seen her in a few days.” 

     Miguel shrugged, not looking at him. “I don’t know. She probably went home or something.” 

     “Hmm,” Peter began, landing on the platform beside him. “I heard she got injured. Is she okay?” His heart squeezed in his chest at the reminder, his breath catching in his throat. He turned to Peter, scowl on his face. 

     “Why don't you go ask her yourself?!” Peter held his hands up in surrender. 

     “Whoa! Hey! What’s wrong, Miguel?” He placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Miguel shrugged it off grumpily. “Miguel. What happened? I talked to Pav and Hobie and they said she got injured and that you were freaking out.” Miguel sniffed.

     “I wasn’t … ‘freaking out’,” he mumbled. Peter folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot on the ground, waiting. Finally, Miguel sighed. “She messed up, okay? She did something … stupid and I … I dismissed her.” 

     “‘Dismissed her’?” Peter echoed. “What does that even mean? And what did she do that was so bad?” Miguel pursed his lips, knowing Peter wasn’t going to like his answer. 

     “She … She almost got herself killed using Scorpion’s venom.” Again, a lump formed in his throat at the thought. “So, I … I told her to leave. I said we didn’t need her anymore.” ‘I’ - ‘I don’t need you anymore’; that’s what he’d said. He winced as Peter began yelling at him. 

     “You what?!” Peter exclaimed, waving his hands in the air in disbelief. “How could you say that to her, Miguel?! You know how much she cares about you - I know how much she cares about you; everyone knows how much she cares about you.” He waited until Miguel turned to face him, the shame shining through his features. Then he sighed. Because he cared about her too. Just as much as she cared about him; that was obvious to everyone as well. He returned his hand to Miguel’s shoulder.

     “Are you mad at her because she made one mistake? For the first time?” He paused to let the words sink in. “Or are you mad because you were scared you might lose her?” 

     He sucked in a breath at the memory of her convulsing in his arms, at the fear he’d felt racing through his veins. The fear he’d let push her away, causing him to lose her anyway. 

     “Go find her, Miguel,” Peter told him. “Apologise. For once in your life.” Miguel narrowed his eyes at that, fixing Peter with an exasperated look. But then he clicked on his watch anyway, opening up a portal to take him to her house.

     He landed in the entryway of her apartment, his head almost brushing the ceiling as he looked around. It was small, but cosy; neat, but welcoming. Just like her. Her head popped up over the sofa and she hopped up quickly when she saw him, scurrying over to the light switch by her bedroom to dim the lights. And it killed him. It killed him that, even after he’d hurt her as much he had, she still found it so easy to care for him. He deactivated his mask and called out to her softly. “¿Arañita?”

     She flinched at the familiar nickname, the one reserved only for the two of them, and it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head. He clenched his jaw, not caring for the feeling one bit. “What do you want, Miguel?” 

     Her voice was cold, flat, and she refused to meet his gaze as she spoke, her eyes fixed instead on her own feet. He began making his way over to her, each step slow, careful, like he was worried any sudden movements might cause her to bolt. He reached a hand out, wanting to run his fingers through the strands of her hair, to push it out of her face so he could see those almond-shaped eyes and rosy cheeks and soft, curved lips. But again, she pulled away, and again, his heart dropped into his stomach. His fingers twitched, aching to reach out and comfort her. And it terrified him. It terrified him how much he wanted to hold her, to pull her into his arms and keep her safe, always. He ground his teeth together, trying to contain his emotions. 

     “X, I’m sorry,” he began slowly. “For what I said. And how I treated you. I was … I was just scared, that I might … that I might …” He let his words trail off, unable to finish the sentence, the horrible thought that had plagued his mind for the past few days. But she just glared at him, angry now, her eyes red and swollen from how she’d cried earlier. Because of him. Because of what he’d said to her. His heart ached at the sight. 

     “So?!” she exclaimed. “I was scared too! You didn’t see me throwing a tantrum about it!” She frowned at him, waiting for his excuse. But there was no excuse. He’d made a mistake and he needed to apologise. He’d own up and take accountability for his actions, apologising to her over and over and over again until she forgave him. 

     “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I was wrong and … and …”

     “You know what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze still fixed on him. “I am sick and tired of angry men! I’ve already had to grow up around so many, I’m not going to put myself through that again; not if I can help it. And I can help it now: I’m an adult now. I get to decide who I want to keep and who I don’t.”

     'Do you want to keep me?’. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she said she didn’t. 

     “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I … It won’t happen again. I promise.” She stood her ground, her expression unconvinced. So he pushed on. 

     “I just-” His voice cracked as the memory came flooding back to him: her, lying in his arms, convulsing as her body tried to rid itself of the venom running through her veins. Her, flopping over, and him not even breathing as he waited, waited for her to wake up, to say something, to do anything. “You were just lying there, arañita! And I … I …” 

     She let her arms fall back to her sides, her features scrunching up in concern. He was having a panic attack, she recognised it. She crept over to him carefully, trying not to startle him, and bent over to try to catch his gaze. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, wild and restless as he re-lived whatever memories were running through his mind right then. She reached up slowly and took his face in her hands, tilting his head towards her. 

     “Miguel? I’m okay. I’m okay.” She brushed her thumbs along his cheeks. “Look at me. What colour is my hair?” He hesitated, trying to bring his attention back to the present, to focus on her standing in front of him, waiting for him to respond. 

     “Brown?” 

     “And my eyes?” 

     He stared into her eyes, his breathing slowing down a little as he studied them. “Dark brown.” 

     “And my tongue?” She stuck her tongue out and wriggled it playfully, trying to retain his attention. He relaxed a little more. 

     “Pink.” She lowered her hands to his, stroking her thumbs across them. 

     “Take your gloves off,” she commanded him gently. He complied and she took hold of his hands, curling her fingers around them. “How does my skin feel?” 

     “Smooth. Cold.” He engulfed her small hands in his large ones, trying to warm her up. She smiled up at him, the curl of her lips beneath her puffy eyes tugging at his heartstrings again. 

     “And my hair? What does it smell like?” She took a step forward, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He found his own hands landing on her back, and he ran his fingers gently along her spine as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. 

     “It smells … fruity. Citrus-y?” 

     “I just washed it,” she told him, her voice muffled by his chest. She pulled back to look up at him, her arms still curled loosely around his waist. “Do you want to sit down?” He nodded and she guided him over to the sofa to take a seat. She sank into the cushions beside him, then arranged his arm over the back of the headrest so she could curl up against his side. She reached up, placing two fingers against the side of his neck. 

     “What are you doing?” he asked her, a tinge of amusement clouding his voice. She sat back to look up at him. 

     “Feeling for your pulse.” She grabbed his hand and placed his fingers on her neck, moving the other to rest on his neck. “Is it okay? Is your heart still beating too fast?” He remained silent for a moment, counting out the beats as they pulsed against his fingers. 

     “It’s slowing down now.” 

     “Try to match mine.” She rolled her eyes, smiling at the thought. “Or less, probably.”

His lips twitched at the joke, but he kept his fingers against her neck, measuring the beating of his heart against hers. She ran her fingers along his thigh as she waited, her nails scratching over his skin lightly in a way that kept distracting him from the task at hand. He looked up and studied her carefully, his gaze trailing over her slowly as he reassured himself that she was okay; that she was real and she was safe, her heart pulsing in her chest, the blood rushing through her arteries beneath his fingers. Finally, he dropped his hands back to his lap. “I think it’s all right now.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, then curled back into his side, her body small and soft against his. Eventually, she sat back to look up at him. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

He hesitated, afraid to pose the question. 

     “Can I … Can I stay over? Just for tonight! I just … I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He avoided her gaze as he waited for her answer. Stupid, it was a stupid question. How stupid of him to reveal just how much he truly cared about her, how embarrassing. 

     “Of course!” she replied quickly, not even needing to think twice about it. She glanced around her tiny apartment, thinking. “Do you mind sleeping on the sofa? It’s a pull-out! I just don’t think my bed would be big enough for the both of us.” 

     She understood; she understood exactly what he needed right now - exactly how he was feeling and how to help him feel better. And she made it seem so easy too, as if she didn’t even need to spare a second thought when it came to him. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “My bed … should be. If that’s … If you’re comfortable with that.” 

     “Sure.” She shrugged, not seeming bothered in the slightest by the idea of sharing a bed with him. She glanced at his suit. “But do you need to go back first?”

     “Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly feeling back to normal again. “I still have some stuff I need to clear up.” 

     “Okay. I’ll just call my mum first. Then we can go after.” She leaned back against the sofa. “Do you want to have dinner here though? I can order something.”

She was a terrible cook; she’d whined about once before, in the pantry with some of the other Spiders. ‘It’s a curse!’, she’d lamented. ‘Everything I cook turns out both raw and burnt!’. She picked up her phone and began scrolling through it. 

     “What do you want to eat?” he asked.

X tapped her phone against her mouth as she considered. 

     “Roti prata?” Her favourite food - besides the instant noodles he’d tried to ban from HQ to stop her from eating them so often. So he’d made it a regular dish: pizza on Fridays, roti prata on Saturdays. Instant noodles for lunch on Saturdays when she managed to sneak it into the canteen before he caught her too. 

     “Can I get the one with the chicken and the onion already inside of it? The stuffed one.” She tapped on her phone for a bit, then held it out to him, showing him a picture of what he’d asked for. 

     “This one?” He nodded in agreement and she added it to the cart. Then she looked up at him again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she considered him. 

     “You want one?” she asked him. “Or two …” He sighed, his lips quirking at the ends anyway. 

     “Mierda, arañita. Why do you always think I can eat so much?” She laughed. 

     “Uh, because you’re kind of freakin’ huge?!” She poked his broad chest to illustrate her point. “Where else am I supposed to think all this muscle comes from?” He rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. 

     “One is enough, arañita.” She sank back into her seat and shrugged. 

     “Suit yourself, big guy.” He frowned and poked her in the side, causing her to shriek and pull away immediately - because she was so painfully ticklish. She glared up at him, blowing away a loose curl that had fallen into her eyes.

     “You’re so mean, Miguel.” He scoffed incredulously. 

     “You’re the one calling me big!” And suddenly, it was easy again, easier than it had been in a long time. But just with her - only with her. She trailed her gaze over him, appraising him carefully and biting on her lip in a way that had the blood rushing to his neck. She tapped her phone on her mouth again, giving him a suggestive look. 

     “Are you not?” F*ck. His breath hitched in his throat and he pushed himself out of his seat, putting some distance between them. 

     “I should be back in about two hours.” He re-activated his mask and opened up a portal to take him back to HQ. “Hasta luego, arañita.”

     “Hasta luego, Miguel.” 

     She took in his apartment, her eyes wide with disbelief. It was so big! And so fancy! A penthouse suite with two floors and five bedrooms and three bathrooms and a view of the entire city spread out below. It probably could have fit her place six times over! She tiptoed over to the plush grey sofa in the living room and her feet sank into the fluffy white carpet as she set her pillow down. 

     “This is your house?” X asked him, her tone dripping with disbelief. Miguel grunted in acknowledgement, setting her water bottle down on the kitchen island before turning around to look at her. He leaned back against the island, folding his arms across his chest. 

     “Is there something wrong with it?” X shook her head quickly and turned around, making sure to absorb every part of her surroundings fully. 

     “No!” she reassured him, her expression awestruck as she studied his house. “It’s so big! Are you, like, a rich boy or something?” She turned to look at him, her lips curling in amusement as he gave her a confused look. 

     “A what?” She grinned.

     “A rich boy,” she repeated, gesturing to their surroundings. He turned his eyes away from her, shifting uncomfortably in position. 

     “Uh, yeah. I guess.” She swivelled around, ignoring his discomfort, and began making her way to the balcony. 

     “Ugh!” she groaned, waving her hands around dramatically. “I’m gonna have to marry you now, Miguel, I have absolutely no choice!” 

     He froze, unsure if he’d heard her right. ‘Marry’ him? Was that what she’d said? That she’d have to marry him? ‘Have’ to, like she had absolutely no choice in the matter? 

     “¿Qué?” He looked up, needing to hear her say it again. But she’d disappeared, walking out onto the balcony and leaving him behind. He ran after her. 

     “¡Arañita! ¡¿Qué?!” He rushed over to where she was standing, gripping onto the railing as she gazed out over the city. “What did you just say?” 

     She smiled, admiring the bright lights and the buzz of people still dashing through the streets, even when the moon was already so high in the sky. Miguel leaned over, trying to catch her gaze to get her to repeat what she’d said, still unable to believe that she’d actually said it. She refused to look at him, delighting in the puzzled expression on his face as she teased him. “Wow. This is so beautiful, Miguel.” 

     ¡Mierda, she was driving him mad! That relaxed smile on her face as she rejected his attempts to meet her eyes. He straightened, hardening his features and giving her a serious look. “X. What did you say just now?” 

     “What?” She grinned, finally looking up at him. “When I said I’m gonna have to marry you?” Again, she’d said it again! And so casually too, like it was just a fact of life, something inevitable they’d both have to accept. He gulped and nodded, completely at a loss for words. Her expression softened and she returned her gaze to the city, shuffling closer to him until her arm brushed against his. 

     “It’s okay,” she continued, her voice reassuring. She leaned over, resting her head against his arm. “I think we’ll be okay. Besides …” She pulled back slightly to look up at him again, her lips still curled into that mischievous smile. 

     “No one else is ever going to enjoy your company as much as I do. I won’t let them!” Her brows drew together in anger at the very thought, then her face broke into a grin again as she lowered her head back to his arm. How could she … How could she be so relaxed about this?! He gripped onto the railing, considering her words carefully. Was she really serious? He couldn’t tell. Not with that teasing smile she kept giving him every time she said it. But she kept saying it - why would she keep saying it if she didn’t mean it? If she didn’t want it to be true? He slid his gaze over to her, searching her demeanour for some hint as to what she was thinking, some clue. But she continued laying against his arm, her posture relaxed as she looked out at the landscape below them. Did she want it to be true? Did she … He shook the thought away, not wanting to think about it too hard. But what did it mean; if she wanted it to be true? What did it mean about the way she felt about him? And … what did it mean about the way he felt about her? His eyes drifted over to her again, his brain reminding him that he’d asked to stay the night, just so he could check up on her, just so he could make sure she was okay. She yawned suddenly, saving him from having to think about the situation any longer, and began heading back inside. 

     “Can we watch some TV or something?” she asked him, settling into the sofa. She looked up at him, waiting as he tried to collect his thoughts. 

     “Uh, um, yeah. Sure.” He sank onto the sofa, careful to leave a little space between them, and turned on the TV. “What do you want to watch?” She thought about it, then shrugged. 

     “I dunno. What kind of TV do you guys have?” He handed her the remote, unsure as to what she liked, but regretted his decision immediately when she landed on some trashy reality dating show. 

     “Really?” he asked her incredulously. “This trash?” She grinned and leaned back against the headrest, making herself comfortable. 

     “It’s nice to know it never gets old.” He rolled his eyes, but said nothing as she continued watching, the ache throbbing inside his chest finally easing up at the sight of her, safe and sound beside him again. 

     “What’s your favourite colour?” They’d gone to bed a while back, the two of them laying on their separate ends, their eyes trailing over one another as their hearts pounded with the excitement of sharing a bed together. He thought about it. 

     “Red.” She flashed him a smug smile, one he could easily make out in the dark. 

     “I knew it.” He rolled his eyes at her response. 

     “Why? Because it’s the colour of my suit?” She rearranged her features into a knowing expression.

     “Guys’ favourite colours are almost always red or blue,” she informed him. “You seem more like a red guy than a blue guy though.” 

     “Because I’m angry all the time?” He tried to keep his tone light, neutral, but it gnawed at his heart, how much he’d hurt her because of his fear. He really needed to manage his temper. 

     “No,” she reassured him softly. “You’re not angry all the time. You just seem more like someone who’ll go out and do things instead of sitting back and letting them pass you by. Red.” His lips twitched at her response, amused. Who knew a person’s favourite colour could tell you so much about them? 

     “What’s your favourite colour?”

     “Purple,” she replied immediately. “But that’s because of Barney.” 

     “Barney?” he repeated, confused. 

     “This big purple dinosaur I used to watch as a kid,” she explained. “He was my first crush.” She gave a dreamy smile, knowing he’d be able to make out the expression in the dark. His brows furrowed in disbelief.

     “Your first crush was a big purple dinosaur?” She laughed. 

     “Don’t worry, it gets worse from there. I also like Simba. And then probably Shahrukh Khan.” A brief silence fell over them as he attempted to come up with a response.

     “I have never heard of any of these people.” She chuckled again. 

     “I’ll show you one day,” she assured him. “What’s your favourite animal? And don’t say spider!”

Favourite animal now? What secrets would that reveal about him? 

     “Technically,” he began, his tone matter of fact, “a spider isn’t an animal. It’s an-”

     “Arachnid,” she finished, her voice softening with awe. “So it doesn’t fall into the kingdom Animalia.” A pause. And then she spoke in a dramatic whisper. 

     “I think I’m in love with you, Miguel.” 

     He froze, taken aback by the sudden confession. But did she mean it? Or was she just joking? Was she joking when she’d said it earlier; that she’d wanted to marry him? Or had she meant it then, just as she meant it now? He ground his teeth together, frustrated by her constant teasing. Santo cielo, she was going to drive him mad if she kept carrying on like this! He tried to brush it aside, to match her nonchalance, the casual tone she continued to use on him. 

     “Not the usual response.” She gave him a wicked smile and his stomach flipped over at the sight.

     “What? You wanted me to call you a huge nerd?” He frowned. 

     “Arañita,” he chastised her, his tone warning. She cuddled her pillow tighter, shuffling over to him slightly. 

     “It’s okay,” she told him gently. Then she lowered her voice, leaning into him like she was about to tell him a secret. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”

‘¡Ay, coño, arañita!’ he wanted to yell. ‘Stop messing with my head like that!’ But then she'd just give him that innocent look and ask him ‘like what, Miguel? How am I messing with your head?’ And she'd flash him that devious grin again, the one that made the adrenaline rush through his veins in anticipation of what she might do next - how she might tease him, getting him hot under the collar all while keeping that playful expression on her face. He swallowed, trying to come up with a very unsexy response. 

     “Because you're a huge nerd too?” He winced as it came out a little louder than expected - a little too desperate, he worried. But it didn't matter, because she still outwitted him anyway. 

     “You think I'm sexy?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he fought to suppress a groan. He wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t think about how sexy she really was, her delicious curves making his mouth water with longing every time she stretched herself out. ¡Ay, coño, she was going to be the death of him one day! 

     “Go to sleep, arañita,” he grumbled, pulling the covers tighter over himself. She chuckled, delighted by how easy it was to fluster him. 

     “Good night, Miguel! 

     “Buenas noches, arañita.”

Tags: @leahnicole1219 @heubstr

[kyojurismo]

Can I req Douma or Kokushibo having an s/o that is really shitty with math or sth and they need to help them bc hw (also, it's modern time but they are demons and somehow managed to survive the war + live w/ the humans now)

btw, if you choose koku you could do bio bc he can see thru humans yk, that makes it so much easier for him, right?

# douma & kokushibo

tags : gn!reader, school & homework (i hate this stuff i’m sorry of course i’m gonna tag em lol), douma is smart but plays dumb, kokushibo is the “dad helping his child doing the homework” type (you’ll see), not proofread.

a/n : this is also the proof that i don’t know how to write this kind of scenarios so LMAO i apologise & i hope you’ll enjoy it anyway <3

DOUMA

“i can’t do that!” you whined, letting go of the pen. “you can,” douma was sitting on the couch, minding his business. “no! i need your help,” you pouted, waiting for him to finally help you with your math homework.

he sighed, thinking for a moment before getting up and coming closer. douma sat down next to you and grabbed your book. “alright…” he read the exercise and chuckled.

“look… i don’t know what it is asking, can you explain it to me?” he smiled at you, showing his fangs. you got distracted for a moment before nodding, starting to explain what you had to do. “oh! that’s right,” douma nodded and chuckled again.

“then can you show me? i think i’ve not very good at this kind of exercises,” he seemed sad, but was faking it. you just didn’t noticed.

that’s what he wanted. he knew you could actually do that, so he pretended to not knowing what your exercises were about. that way you would explain them to him and subconsciously solve them.

“yeah, i think this should be a 5 tho,” he smirked and got up, you finally understood. “hey! you were supposed to help me,” you groaned, annoyed by his behaviour. “but you finished them, darling,” douma winked at you and sat down on the couch again, satisfied with himself.

“asshole,” you murmured, staring down at the now solved math exercises.

KOKUSHIBO

“you know the answer to that,” he stared at you intently. well, with his six eyes. “no i don’t,” you shook your head.

“you just have to locate the kidney,” he explained. thanks shit, he can see where it was located clearly. you sent him a glare, annoyed. “why can’t you tell me where it is?”

“because you have to learn it yourself,” he sighed. kokushibo was stern when it came to studying. “alright…” you huffed and answered, not paying too much attention.

“no! i told you it was up there,” his finger pointed at a specific point on the paper. “no you did not!” he did in fact mentioned it while showing you, he wasn’t brainless.

he showed you a few organs’ location and then wanted you to remember and point them on the paper. you just weren’t that good at biology.

“this is madness,” he muttered and got up. “you know it’s hard for normal people like me,” you whined. you wanted to reason with him, deep down he knew he could see things you couldn’t. plus, he was a demon.

“alright, i’ll help you. but just this time.”

reblogs & comments are super appreciated! thank you for taking your time reading it, i hope you enjoyed it. have a good day / night <3

[moonlit-mystery-writer]

Ranking reveal please ! "5 most compatible with the oc of your choosing amongst khr cast' ✨️ ( — romantic ! or not! it is up to you.) maybe, with explanations?

Gonna try my best to answer this with Fina and Hideko lol.

Fina

1. Levi - I know you’ve read the explanation as to why, but I’ll link it here for anyone else

2. Lussuria - We’re jumping from most likely to maybe in some distant timeline lol. Because Lussuria is the head of the Sun division, I headcanon he oversees medical things that happen in the Varia at least a little bit. Therefore, he knows all of Fina’s issues and spends a lot of time with her for her treatments. For Fina, Lussuria reminds her of the more vibrant side of her big sister. It’s a comfort to have him around just as much as it can overstimulate her. Thankfully years by Xanxus’ side and tending to others has helped Lussuria learn how to dodge things thrown at him in a rage.

In the normal verse for her, they’re just friends. And that’s even a bit of a stretch.

3. Spanner - This would be exclusive to future him. But even then, she’d feel a little awkward as a woman in her 30s and he’s like vaguely in his twenties? (Pretty sure he’s Shoichi’s age when he shows up in the present day, so???) Either way, they’d mesh pretty well.

If she met him in normal verse, they’d be just friends.

4. Shoichi - Same reasons as Spanner above, this time the two can also bond over gut issues.

In normal verse, she’d also only be friends with him.

5. Bianchi - Future arc version again, since present day Bianchi is only 17. Honestly, I’m putting her here because these two would have such a toxic yuri relationship lol. Bianchi is basically everything Fina’s sister wasn’t as a sister and that would drive Fina crazy. She views what her sister did for her growing up as what an older sibling should do for their younger sibling. But she also wouldn’t be against eating poison cooking. What’s the worst the could happen? Fucking up her body even more than it’s doing on its own?

Hideko

Before I start her rankings, I wanna say, not only is she a lesbian but she’s also technically taken already by a different oc of mine. (Whether they’ll be poly lesbians or not is up in the air right now)

1. Haru - So! This’ll get into some of the plotting I have for the Rewrite. But in the arc Hideko shows up, Haru’s the one who tries to fight her first because Hideko hurt Tsuna and they just happen to go to the same school. By the end of the arc, the two are still antagonistic towards each other when around each other, but neutral any time else. So while Haru ranks high, their relationship would be extremely rocky at first.

2. Kyoko - The relationship is very similar to Haru’s above, but with one step up in difficulty. As unlike Haru, Kyoko doesn’t get to see Hideko actually improve her behavior a little at school.

3. Hana - The closest to a neutral option I can give Hideko! However, the fact Kyoko dislikes her much makes it even more unlikely.

4. Adelheid - These two could almost work! Except one crucial detail; Hideko thinks Enma is a bigger loser than Tsuna. And like she is with Tsuna, she’s very shameless and vocal of her opinion. This would drive Adelheid insane.

5. Shittoppi - These two ultimately have very little chemistry. She only ranks because Hideko is used to odd people thanks to one of her own guardians being odd. But that’s where it ends. Their lack of chemistry plus Hideko’s thoughts on Enma as stated above would ultimately drive these two apart.

I didn’t do friendships here, as none of these lovely ladies would actively want to befriend Hideko. At best, pleasant business partners with her.

[nellyofthevalley]

truths, ch.1

astarion x fem!tav rating: explicit

content: piv sex, fingering, biting/blood drinking, emotionally repressed losers who can't communicate, angst I guess

summary: this fic is mostly an excuse to write a bunch of dialogue bouncing around in my head. astarion is a sad little idiot who turns his fears into a self-fulfilling prophecy because he never learned how to love. it may or may not turn into a tragedy

“As I told you—you broke my cold, dead heart. Of course it was cruel,” Astarion says, melodramatic, hamming it up for her. He wants her to feel guilty for it; he wants her to stop being so tiring and play right into his hand. Make it easy for him.“I don’t believe you,” Tav says. “Everything you say sounds like a pretty lie, and you all but told me that’s what it is. Pretty lies. I’m not interested.”

chapters: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8

read it on ao3 or below the cut

Camping in the Underdark is unsettling, to say the least. The party hears noises in the distance, reminiscent of the howl of wolves or the songs of birds on the surface, but here, the sounds are warped and unrecognizable, and when they travel, they never meet the creatures that match the sound. Their party travels lighter with fewer bodies, having stricter lookout shifts with more on nighttime patrol. Tonight is Lae’zel and Shadowheart on shift, and Tav can imagine that’s going well. After all, it was only a few days ago they’d been at each others throats. 

At least they are speaking to one another—Astarion hasn’t talked to her for days. Not since she turned him down at the tieflings’ celebration at camp, back by the grove. It would be fine, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s so obvious and awkward; he is clearly avoiding her, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. Avoid him? Act normal? What is normal anymore, anyway? 

She hadn’t meant to let him down so callously; how smug and fake he sounded finally got on her nerves. She didn’t expect him to seem so wounded by it. He was so good at putting on a fake face and fake words, so why was he surprised that she’d rejected him? What did he expect?

‘I’ve gotten on my back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them,’ he’d said after. ‘But you... you I’ll remember.’

The words linger in her mind like a parasite, fighting for space with her tadpole. It bothers her that she can’t let this go. Were they just more pretty words he spouted to get her in bed again, or something else? For a moment, it almost seemed like his facade had cracked when he said it. For all she knows, that could've been a performance as well. 

This evening, Tav finds herself in Halsin’s company while she works at her braids, discussing the road ahead. It won’t be long before they’re met with the shadow-cursed lands, and out of them all, Halsin knows the most. He recounts his studies on the curse and tadpole, eager to head off to their next destination despite the danger. Halsin clearly feels a certain responsibility to the cursed lands, though he’s also struggling with leaving the grove behind. 

“They’ll be fine without you—they’re tough,” Tav offers, doing her best to provide some kind of comfort. “You’ll be missed, I’m sure. I’m glad you’re with us, we’re lucky to have you.”

“I remain optimistic that Francesca will strive in my old position. Still, it is difficult to leave my home behind,” he says. “I’m afraid the city will be an even harder adjustment for me. The busy streets and crowds are a far cry from the comforts of nature.”

“There, there, Halsin,” Gale chimes in, joining the group by the campfire. “You might be pleasantly surprised. I admit, the city park has nothing on your lovely grove, but, well. You share the pursuit of knowledge, I assume? Baldur’s Gate is home to many wonderful things—the best of which being an extraordinary bookstore known as Sorcerous Sundries.”

Gale likes to hear Gale talk, so Tav backs off and lets him engage with Halsin in her stead. Her attention turns toward the campfire on this particularly cold night, stretching her arms and hands out in front of her, taking in the warmth it provides. Her own tent is dull and cold, so she can find sleep only once the boys have talked all they can talk and finally leave, allowing her the silence needed to rest.

Tav glances over at Astarion’s tent, and unsurprisingly, he’s nowhere to be found. Likely off hunting, she thinks. Ever since the party and their strange little silent treatment pact started, he’s been getting his fill elsewhere. She used to provide for him—to help him be ‘stronger, fight better,’ as he’d argued. Now, things were too tense to invite him back. 

She finds herself wondering if he’s chasing animals or people. It’s none of her business who he feeds from, but she can’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy eating at her, at the thought of him having his needs met from another ‘thinking’ creature. 

‘Truth be told, you were my first,’ he’d said. Tav felt shame as her cheeks flushed. His first. Something about that sounded so… personal.

Her attention snaps back to the present, settling into the bed roll by the fire, watching the flames frolic. As her eyes start to drift away, the need for sleep washing over her, the sounds of the wilderness become duller, drowned out. She didn’t realize how tired she was, how exhausting this day had been. Her muscles relax, sight fades, and thoughts morph into concepts as she drifts away to the warm comfort of sleep. 

Tav wakes in a sweat. Her skin feels like it’s melting, like she’s being boiled alive; her hands rush to her face, and when she touches herself, the skin oozes off her bones, flowing down her fingers and arms. She tries to scream, and nothing comes out, her mouth a gooey mess dripping onto the ground beneath her.

She tries to stand and flee, but her ankles are already turning into liquid fire. Her body lowers, slowly liquifying into the ground below. She’s helpless, a lost cause; an existence destined to fade away and be lost forever. A voice—her voice—tells her so, tells her ‘give up’.

Tav wakes again, this time with an audible scream. She instinctively jumps out of bed, rising to her knees; hands rush to touch her face again, relief and surprise coursing through her body as she realizes she’s still there. All of her, in one piece; not melting away as her dreams try to convince her. 

She sits upright and tears flow from her eyes, frustrated—these dreams keep happening to her, and she doesn’t understand it. The campfire is all except gone, hardly any flame or heat remains. 

“Tav!” Shadowheart calls to her, running and kneeling beside her. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine, I think,” she gets out, looking over her fingers and feet again, as if she has to remind herself they’re still there, still real. “Just… having nightmares.”

“Chk. If a dream bothers you that much, I question your sanity,” Lae’zel comments in her typical, apathetic tone, approaching the duo. “Soon you may develop a fever, grow tentacles, become ghaik at last—the moment you do, I’ll be ready to strike.”

Tav rolls her eyes, prodding at the campfire, hoping to reignite the tiny flame. Despite her dream, the air is cold, and her bedroll isn’t enough. Shadowheart and Lae’zel head off in separate directions to resume their patrol, and Tav catches Shadowheart glancing back at her on their way out. She seems genuinely concerned for Tav, and it’s nice to know someone does. The others are either sleeping peacefully in their tents or pretending to. Tav wishes it’s the former, hating to make a scene. 

The campfire crackles again, a little flame rising from the wood. It’s a much needed comfort, though not enough to relax and find sleep again. Tav lays on her bedroll, looking up at nothing besides a dark abyss and the faint glow of mushrooms growing far above. 

“Well, didn’t you cause quite the scare?” says a familiar voice—Astarion.

Tav jumps in surprise, leaning up onto her elbows to see him walking over from his tent. The last person she expected to see tonight. 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she replies, a bit more haughty than intended. 

Knowing sleep will escape her for some time, she concedes and rises from the bedroll to sit on the log bench by the fire. It’s a silent invitation, how she leaves room for Astarion to join, and he accepts. The atmosphere is quiet, save for a few indescribable sounds in the distance, the very same type they’d learned to accept in the Underdark. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Tav says, willing to make the first move. 

“Darling, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me,” he answers, and it prompts Tav to realize he might be right; maybe it was all in her head and she played a one-sided game. “Tell me about your dreams.”

“What? Why?”

“Can’t I simply wonder what troubles you at night? Our ‘fearless leader’, who shows no weaknesses—yet you wake with a scream, and you weep because of it,” he says, revealing he’s been listening to it all. “Call me worried if it makes you feel better about it.”

“Are you worried about me?” Tav asks, staring daggers at him, challenging him to take off his mask. 

“Possibly,” Astarion answers with a dramatic shrug. “Or maybe I’m curious and you owe me. I told you plenty of my past, of my nightmares, and then you kept your secrets and so cruelly denied me your company. I think you can spare me a sentence or two, dear.”

She can’t tell how much of this is an act and how much isn’t. He’s putting on his usual theatrics, his dramatic tone and way of storytelling, but it’s hard to see beyond it this time. She’s certain he wants to know; she’s not certain if it’s because he’s worried. Or if he is serious about perceiving her rejection as cruel. 

“There’s not much to tell,” Tav offers, now looking away, down to her fingers and the soil beneath her feet. “Tonight, I dreamt my skin was melting off—that’s it. Sometimes, I dream that I’m drowning. Stupid, right? It’s different from other dreams I’ve had. Feels more… real. I feel the pain as my skin turns into lava, I feel my lungs fill with water. Harder to acclimate to reality when I wake.”

She pauses to let him comment, and he says nothing. He’s not even looking at her anymore. He’s staring at the ground too, like they’re looking at the same thing. There’s nothing there besides the dirt and weeds. 

“Did you really think I was cruel?”

“As I told you—you broke my cold, dead heart. Of course it was cruel,” Astarion says, melodramatic, hamming it up for her. He wants her to feel guilty for it; he wants her to stop being so tiring and play right into his hand. Make it easy for him. 

“I don’t believe you,” Tav says. “Everything you say sounds like a pretty lie, and you all but told me that’s what it is. Pretty lies. I’m not interested.”

“It’s not all pretty lies,” he rebukes, almost sounding like he’s taking offense to her skepticism. It’s frustration that he has to work so much harder with her.  “Some of them are ugly, others are pretty truths.”

“Oh? Enlighten me, what truths have you told?”

“That I miss petty vanity,” Astarion answers, keeping it simple; refusing to give more, what she wants him to give. “How it’s hard not to have fun with you.” That one is merely a consolation prize. 

“Is that all?” Tav asks, wondering if ‘fun’ he means that he enjoys himself with her, or if it’s how he so evidently enjoys messing with her. Toying with her emotions.

“For tonight, yes. That’s all you get. You can continue guessing at the rest.”

Astarion meets her gaze now, giving her those sad, red eyes. It might be an act, it might not be—he doesn’t even know himself. It reminds her of the look he wore when she turned him down, and she questions whether that was an act as she’d initially thought. He finds himself entranced by how the orange light from the flames bounce off her pale lavender skin.

He leans into her, watching to see if she recoils or pushes him away. Instead, she keeps staring at him, wide-eyed, and he senses her heart pace a little faster. She smells faintly like blueberries. He can’t resist moving in closer, nose nearly touching her neck and taking in her scent, thinking of how he’ll never get to taste them again; he’ll have to settle for the aroma.

Tav is convinced he’s going to bite her, and she knows she should stop him, but she doesn’t. She braces, waiting for it, and it doesn’t come. Astarion pulls away, and before he can decide where to go from here, she’s taking the initiative and pressing her lips to his. 

His hand instinctively raises to cup her face, deepening the kiss, pushing his mouth to hers like he wants to bruise her. It’s not him, he thinks; it’s something else, something he can’t control.  His tongue seeks entry and she doesn’t deny it, parting her lips with a little sound that he swears makes his stopped heart start again, for only a second. 

When he turns to unbutton her night shirt, movements methodical and practiced, she stops him and pulls away. 

“You don’t want this?” he asks. 

“I do,” she says, that defeated look in her eyes that he can’t tolerate. “Not like this.”

It unnerves him that he knows exactly what she means. How she saw right through him, how she could so easily read his hand movements, experienced and suave; understood another way. How he can’t even bring himself to deny it. She really isn’t like his other conquests. She is special.

She is difficult. 

Astarion moves to leave, to go think about this, or at least think about how to avoid thinking about it, but she grabs his wrist to stop him. He looks back at her, astonished by her audacity, her ability to bother him so.

‘Stay?’ her face asks, and he doesn’t know how to say no or yes. He just sits right back where he was, mind swimming; though not a single one of the swimmers composes a coherent, tangible thought. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” he observes, picking up on the goose flesh spreading across her arms, and shakes so small, Tav hasn’t even noticed them. The campfire burns away; somehow it’s still not enough to warm her.

“I suppose I am,” she says. “I’d better get used to it. I find it difficult to believe that our journey will be getting much more comfortable anytime soon.”

Astarion sheds his coat, placing it around her shoulders, wondering what he’s fucking doing the entire time.

“It’s always cold for me,” he offers, like he has to justify himself, “and you wear it better.”