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#maybe it was just the timing of it all or maybe it was the previous humor of rtvs making me take it as a joke mostly
moondirti · 3 days
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ghoap x nanny! reader / 18+ / previous ft. surveillance. handjobs. voyeurism. mild s/m. dirty talk.
They check up on you when they can.
Price wasn't exaggerating when he doled out the mission details. It's a tough one. Grueling. The type that necessitates four flights a week and days of little to no sleep, the men fuelled on nothing but a snow-balling urgency to get it done. The target is a slippery fuck, with connections that transport him across the globe at the first sign of conflict. They come close to apprehending him only once, and nothing comes of it but the exacerbated threat of nuclear war as the bastard starts to squeak like a cornered mouse. Gaz has a near constant migraine. Soap stops being fun around the two week mark, exhaustion slowing his tongue. Ghost grows more unhinged with his kills, punching blades through the throats of anyone who dares get in their way.
But still, they check on you.
Isla occupies a quarter of their headspace at all times; half when they don't have to dedicate their focus to the operation. It's the longest they've ever spent away from their girl, the withdrawals hitting them like a bag of bricks. They do whatever's necessary, then, to tune into the nanny cams they have set up around the house, lest Johnny cries about the way her hands dimple when she uncurls a fist again. Or worse – before Simon forgets what tethers him to humanity.
They find the two of you are always doing something.
Which isn't a surprise. You had mentioned your background in early childhood education; they just thought that it'd been a device to impress them. But it's clear that you're eager to put your degree to use when they see you setting up yet another enrichment activity for their daughter and encouraging her to engage.
The first time, they had just arrived on base. It'd been five hours since they've seen you last and already, Johnny had pulled his phone to log onto the monitoring app he had installed.
Sure enough, you were in the same overalls they saw you in last, Isla changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas after her bath. You had her set on her play mat, but replaced the dangling toys for newer, more colourful ones. As she reached for them, you would sound out the shade in a high-pitched voice and grin excitedly when she'd babble back, as if aaaah! meant green.
He felt his heart tug something fierce, caught between endearment and unease at missing out, before getting dressed for debrief.
The third time, you let them know you could tell when the nanny cam is in active use. Not accusatorially, of course – it unfolded in a way too innocent to be anything but a whammy on their part.
They were in a humvee on exfil after being ambushed by the local army – soldiers with blood money lining their pockets, tasked with dispatching the bloodhounds that keep sniffing their patron's trail. Simon had watched a little boy get caught in the crossfire and decided it was imperative to check if Isla was okay, despite her being hundreds of miles away and off anyone's radar.
You're the first thing he saw, carrying the weight of a huge plastic storage container filled with water. In it, there were several rubber animals that inspired a fit of squeals somewhere off screen. You had laughed, a little out of breath, and he remembers the relief that flooded his chest at the dual sounds. Like the cold lick of waves across scorching sand.
As you'd passed by the camera, you stopped and crouched so your face would be in view.
"Isla likes splashing around in the water. I'm thinking of getting her a paddling pool." And you lifted the container as if you would ever need to justify the way you take of their daughter. "Hope you guys are well."
Johnny murmured from beside him. "Forgot aboot th' status light."
The seventh– ninth– maybe twelfth time (having lost count), it was just in time to catch you on your way out with Isla in tow.
They'd tuckered down in a shitty motel, awaiting the next word from Laswell, all four of them in one room. Gaz had been given the bed as consolation for the torn tendon in his knee, and Price had claimed the couch with nothing more than a growl about his back needing it. Thus, Ghost and Soap found themselves on the floor, the latter man tucked under his partner's arm, the other occupied with checking in on the porch feed. The time difference made it so that it was midday where you were.
You were dressed – and Simon recalls it as clearly as the day you met – in a green wrap skirt and tulip hat, their darling girl in a shade of pink that complimented its petals, sat on your hip as you struggled with her buggy. They forgot to give you the run down on unfolding it before they left, too overwhelmed with everything else to pay mind to the little things.
Johnny had jumped for the two-way talk function immediately, tapping on the little mic before clearing his throat.
"There's a latch under th' left arm. Flip it 'n' it shuid unfold automatically."
You jumped, pausing to face the porch cam with wide eyes. "Oh– Oh my god. Haha," Following his directions, you were able to get it open with little fuss. "that is so embarrassing. Pretend you never saw that."
Simon had his balaclava on, uncomfortable with going bare-faced in an unfamiliar room, but Johnny still felt the soft smile splitting his cheeks. Its warmth was unmistakable.
"Nonsense, lass. 'twas cute."
You bloomed at that, wiggling a little in place. Though the flustered moment hadn't lasted long, for Isla's mouth fell open at the recognition of her father's voice, chubby hand reaching out in its direction.
"Bldha! Pffffpp."
"That's right, baby! That's Da." You waddled closer to have her inspect the strange contraption hooked above their mailbox, turning your attention back to them. "We're going on a narration walk! Isla's gotten so good at recognising animals because of them. But it was so nice to hear from you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
"Gah!"
Simon locked the phone when neither of them could muster a response, emotion rushing their throats like white-river rapids. Hot tears seep into his side, a pair of misty eyes buried in his ribs.
"I know. I know, Johnny. S'alright. We'll see 'er again soon."
Now, he's made good on his promise.
All three rogue missiles located and dismantled in record time, meaning their slimy target could no longer use them as a shield. He'd been in shackles within the next day, wrangled somewhere in Istanbul and shipped off to a maximum security prison in The Hague. The task force left no loose thread untugged, which took an extra day but will be worth it in the long run. Price promises to reward them with a round, on him.
They're on their way back to base when Johnny tunes in a final time.
He's sure that Isla is asleep by now, confirmed by the baby monitor that focuses on the sprawled form in her cot. It would be best to exit the app and doze off like the other men – lord knows he needs it – but he can't help the itch to look for you too. To click through every channel, his curiosity unquenched, until–
Ah. There.
On the couch, bare legs stretched out along its length. A throw blanket tangled between them, one bent at the knee to support the book you're currently fingering through. The sight alone is enough to make him salivate.
But then he notices the thin material of your top.
Practically translucent. No doubt made for bed. You aren't wearing a bra, either, and the darker shade of your nipples practically flaunts itself through the fabric. They're too soft to protrude and cast a shadow on your breasts, but he's still able to get a good impression of what you would look like nude. Some part of him wilts with guilt at the shameless voyeurism he's subjecting you to.
Another part sends blood to the weight between his legs.
"Bleedin' Christ."
"Hm?" Simon grunts, disturbed by the restless pace of Johnny's heart. His head lifts off his shoulder, blinking warily to clear the silky gossamer of sleep threading his eyelids, before focusing on the grainy footage on his partner's screen.
"Ghost." He whines, hips bucking in desperation when the larger man does nothing. They haven't had the chance to relieve themselves since that night at the motel, and even then it had been a messy frotting as they tried not to disturb their sleeping comrades.
"A'right. Off to the bathroom with you, then."
He doesn't turn off of the live feed even as they cram into the compact space. Though he should. He needs to. Not because you're aware of their surveillance – you're far too engrossed in your book to pay mind to the blinking red light on the nanny cam. But because only depraved men gets off to unsuspecting hens, especially the ones they hired in good faith to take care of their child while they're away.
It's a dirty, dirty thrill that roars through him as Simon wraps an arm around his waist, palming his hard-on through his trousers. And it's a dirty thrill he wants no part of.
"Practically leakin' in your pants, boy. First time you see a pair of tits?" In the small mirror before him, he watches his pants get pulled down past his ass, underwear stained a deeper swatch of blue where his tip spits prespend.
It might as well be the first time, way he's humping Simon's hand like an over-eager mutt. Though he can't manage to choke it out through the rough groans pressing his vocal chords. Instead, what escapes him is a pathetic mess of trembling letters. "S'not... fookin, not– not–"
"Shhh, it's okay. She's jus' so pretty, yeah? Can't help but chub up and beg me to rub your aching cock, wishing it was her darlin' hand wrapped 'round you instead. I know."
"Nn, nae, Sim- Si– I wouid never... Ah!"
It's dry. A little raw. He makes no effort to lube his calloused palm to help it glide easier along Johnny's length, but he knows his boy better than he knows himself sometimes. That he needs pain when he's doing something bad like this, or else he'll lose himself to the guilt. A little bit of penance for the Catholic.
"Don' lie to me. Y'can't. But tha's alright," He pulls the foreskin off the head of his uncut mass, kneading a bit into his frenulum to watch the way white oozes against red. "I think about it too."
"A-Aye?"
"Hm. Think 'bout ya swallowing my cock while I sit 'er on my face. Bet she tastes sweet, like nectar. Jus' look at the thing." Which he does. You're seated a bit differently than you had been before. Less liberal. Wound up tight, with your nose buried in your book and your toes curled beneath your feet. Surely captured by some tense plot line or the other. "Would make you clean her cunt after I pump 'er full. Or vice versa, if she's into tha'."
"Yer a-aff yer heid... Fuck, I cannae–"
"That's it, Johnny. Let go, boy." Simon's strokes keep at the top, tugging in short, rough movements over the phone. The blanket now covers you fully, but it's no matter. The image of your breasts are now seared into both their minds, an array of fantasies unfurling before them, each nastier than the last. "Jus' like that."
Thick ropes of cum streak over the screen and sink countertop. It's weeks worth of pent up frustration, a culmination of despair and desire as a stuttered moan claws up Johnny's throat. The hand leaves his cock only when he starts shooting blanks, clenching tight at the overstimulation.
Simon makes him lick the mess off his palm.
(And unbeknownst to them, they'd hit the mic on their way to the bathroom.
You'd heard the whole thing.)
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microsofttothemax · 2 days
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the resentment leo would have with splinter post-krang. i genuinely think they would take a bit for them to recover and be comfortable around each other
why do i think that? here’s some reasons. this is gonna be a HELLA long analysis so be prepared. sit down, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive in
in the movie, after raph was taken, leo goes on a whole rant about how he got the key, he gets the answers, and he will get raph back. yes this is irrational and brash, but not in leo’s eyes. in his eyes, this is a foolproof plan that will work
splinter attempts to intervene, and tell him like it is. “it’s not your plan, you need to work with your team.” however, it comes out as a sharp sting to leo’s previous attitude
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“My son, listen to your team. This is not about you.”
it’s meant to be sensible and wise, but to leo, it’s a jab at him. it’s a stab at his cockiness and self-centered attitude, and it reminds leo of why they’re even in this position in the first place. which he hates
most of all, it’s splinter saying it. it’s his father telling him that it’s not about him. because to leo, he’s always been last place to splinter’s affection, and it’s like splinter’s confirming it here
don’t believe me? here:
splinter talks to leo, and it seems that for a minute, he listens to his father’s words. that maybe he should really stop and listen. maybe he should stop and think of a plan, listen to his brothers’ input.
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but the second splinter says it’s not about him? leo shuts down. he pulls away from splinter, and refuses to listen to him. and while splinter may be right, it was something leo never wanted to hear
it’s obvious that he has a somewhat testy relationship with his father, and splinter is trying to make up for it by giving leadership advice. but to leo? this is the guy who made him leader to seemingly mess with him, never bothered to give him attention or praise on his accomplishments, and never truly knew leo beyond his “acting as the best to save face” charade
which brings me to another reason. no, i do not think splinter was ever abusive or purposely neglectful to leo, or any of the boys for that matter. but its clear theres a bit of a rift between him and leo. i think that he kind of resents leo a bit (without meaning to) because he sees himself in him. he sees the irrational movie star who never thought ahead, and made too many mistakes to count
an example would be when leo got punched by lou jitsu two times. none of his brothers got punched, why just him? and sure it could be a running gag, but i find it also to be intentional
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maybe deep down, splinter still resents leo for being so much like his irrational, unreasonable younger self. that every time he sees leo, he sees his stupid past self, and without meaning to, he at times hates leo because of it. and if he doesn’t hate him, he seems to resent him to some extent
splinter also has plainly stated that donnie was the funniest one to him, (s1ep 1, mystic mayhem) and outright laughed when leo asked if he was the favorite son (rottmnt wake-up alarms on youtube, timestamp 1:59) leo also staight-up said that he was splinter’s least favorite (s1ep 4b, down with the sickness)
so yeah, i can see the resentment leo may have for his father deep down. it could be pretty apparent post-krang, hidden behind his jokes and teases
now don’t get me wrong, they have their moments of bonding, and i do love to read little drabbles and fics where they hug and heal. however… realistically speaking, it would take a while for them to get to that stage of father-son bonding post-krang. with splinter naming him leader out of the blue, to the missing lou jitsu posters on the walls of leo’s room in the movie — and we’re definitely talking about that in a later post, trust — i would bet their relationship as father-son pre and post-movie would be extremely rocky.
another reasoning for this could be that splinter often underestimates and undermines leo’s abilities and accomplishments. far as i’ve seen, the most reaction splinter’s given to leo’s accomplishments is an eyebrow raise
for example, when outsmarting big mama, leo was genuinely proud of spending time w his dad and showing him his abilities. he genuinely thought they were working together. however, splinter didn’t say he was proud or anything, just complained he wished he’d brought donnie (s2ep 2, many unhappy returns)
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“I knew I should have brought Purple.”
ouch. that mustve hurt a bit
and yes, i will admit, leo was being a bit of a little shit in this scene, and yes, he could’ve told splinter of the plan before starting to yap and blab to big mama about the plan he cooked up. however, the response splinter gives is not much better. essentially, he’s saying, “i don’t like this kid or his plan, so therefore i think i should’ve brought one of my favored children to solve the problem better.”
and before you go and tell me donnie could’ve outsmarted big mama the way leo did, think for a moment. leo fully admitted to manipulating and lying in an episode before
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“I don’t lie, I just… change the truth.”
whereas donnie cannot tell a lie to save his life. i love him, but the guy is a shit liar. he has failed multiple times at it
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“We are just typical normal humans.. who got lost in the middle of our normal… everyday human lives— nailed it.”
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“Uh… nothing. Just having a typical, normal, mystic-free day.” “What? I said mystic-free.”
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“Why aren’t you guys more upset?”
“Oh. This… hurts me. Uh… I’m very sad…?”
raph & mikey aren’t much better. mikey straight-up started sweating when he had to lie to splinter about piebald, and raph has so many different stinks/scents to him that it’d be easy for others to tell he was lying
also, mikey has doctor delicate touch. who does not know what lying or “don’t be blunt” means
and donnie’s really only being extremely straightforward with what he thinks or about what’s going on around him. so it makes no sense as to why splinter would want to bring donnie along to outsmart big mama, unless he genuinely doesn’t enjoy leo’s presence, which seems to be the case
now all of this is evidence to point towards a very unsteady father-son relationship with these two. yes, splinter seems to be a very lenient father, and i genuinely think he wants to be a good dad. however, oftentimes that leads to miscommunication and misread moments, empty promises, and overall neglecting behavior on his part, all without meaning to
so while he does try harder to be there for his sons later in the show, it’s pretty obvious that one brother — who thrived off any attention possible — probably stopped caring about that validation after all that he went through. splinter gives, but leo doesn’t take. he doesn’t bother to, because he thinks it’s either a prank of some kind, or because he just genuinely doesn’t care for his father’s input anymore.
(this was based on that one post about splinter & leo by @midwesternvibes, i just figure i revisit that bc i’m thinkin about it again)
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i am confused
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Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀
Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.
***Spoilers below the cut!!***
So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????
Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)
But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????
Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)
Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???
Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?
I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL
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star-hoon · 3 days
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VERSION OF ME — (p. sunghoon)
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"CAN YOU LOVE THE VERSION OF ME, I DON'T LET ANYBODY ELSE SEE?"
— MASTERLIST
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pairing: sunghoon x fem reader (oneshot)
includes/warnings (16+):  comfort/healing from dark past! au — fluff, angst, profanity, comfort, implied reader has scars, mentions of food/eating  (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 1.8k [not proofread]
synopsis: you and sunghoon have been dating for a few months now and he is the definition of your prince charming. but you are finally forced to uncover what you've been hiding from him, and it makes you fear you’ll lose him.
DISCLAIMER: this fic does mention/imply reader has SH scars. it is mentioned without detail and sunghoon is comforting reader about them. *as someone who used to SH, i would never ever mean to trigger anyone. so if this could potentially trigger you, do not read/please proceed with caution.*
author’s note: omg thank you to everyone who read my 'obsessed' & 'intermission' AND for over 110 followers!
i hope you're all okay with this fic idea even its a little on the darker side. but i promise its fluffy n hoon is a sweetie. this one is dedicated to all of you out there who have overcome hardships in the past or dealing with hardships right now, with physical or mental scars. you are so strong, beautiful, and loved!! <3
VERSION OF ME SOUNDTRACK
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it was yet the end of another long and arduous day at work. you dragged your feet into the doorway of your apartment, hanging up your bag on the hook in the entry way and removing your shoes that you could feel were forming blisters on your heels.
sighing, you make a beeline to your bedroom. nothing sounded better than a hot shower to change into some comfy clothes. well, maybe one thing sounded better.
cuddling with your boyfriend sunghoon. and his deep voice and hearty laugh. and his silly puns and dad jokes. and him getting so excited talking about film cameras. just—him.
you had never been one to be very clingy nor dependent with your boyfriends. you just valued your own time and pursuing your own goals, but that doesn't mean you care about them any less.
that's why when you and sunghoon started dating 4 months ago, you felt something click in that regard. he fully understood your introverted ways and wouldn't be like the previous guys and complain about feeling 'neglected' or that you were too cold because he knew exactly how it felt to need alone time/your own space and he respected it.
but even still, when you are together he treats you like an absolute princess. carrying your purse for you when you go shopping, opening the car door for you, standing on the side of the sidewalk that faces the street. he also emotionally cared for you, listening to you rant about things big and small and always reassuring you the day before you have a big presentation at work. you felt so deeply cared for and understood, it made your affection for him blossom even more every day.
today was a day that both you and sunghoon had busy schedules so you weren't going to see each other. but you missed him and wanted nothing more than his comforting presence to fill your currently empty apartment.
you made your way to the bathroom, removing your uncomfortable work clothes. as you stood there uncovered you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. you stared down at your arms, the dark marks that littered your skin. you knew you couldn't hide this from him forever.
before you could let any more negative thoughts consume you, you hopped into the shower hoping the hot water can wash away your stress and worries.
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after your shower that probably lasted a little too long in some water that was probably a little too hot, you heard a knock at your front door. you peeked to the corner of your phone amidst the tik tok scrolling 10:38 pm.
considering how late it was you were suspicious so you tiptoed to the front door, glancing through the peep hole. it was sunghoon. even though you should feel giddy and excited at the sight of your boyfriend, a twinge of panic arose. you were just wearing a tshirt so your arms were fully exposed, not expecting company. you ran and grabbed the first hoodie you could find. it happened to be one of his.
you opened the front door and there sunghoon stood as handsome as ever, with a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. you pouted at the sight in front of you—you were the luckiest girl alive. this was exactly what you needed after a day like today.
"hi hoonie" you softly greeted him, gently hugging him and he leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. "...what's all this?"
he spoke as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. "sorry for dropping by so suddenly, i knew weren't planning on seeing each other today but i knew you had a long day and you were gonna be home late so i thought you would want some food. it's your favorite from the restaurant downtown." you nearly started crying, how could be so sweet?
"don't be sorry. thank you, you are seriously the best hoon i missed you a lot today."
"i missed you too. just sit and relax baby, i'll plate everything up for you" sunghoon always insisted on plating food even if it was takeout. he believed it made it taste better, the notion always made you laugh.
despite offering to split the meal with him, he insisted he didn't want any saying he ate dinner earlier. but as you two sat at the dining table chatting about your day, you fed him forkful after forkful anyways.
after finishing the meal you convinced sunghoon to let you wash the dishes. he eventually complied, standing next to you at the sink drying the 3 total dishes you had to wash.
no matter how small the gesture sunghoon was willing to do anything and everything to make it easier for you. you were convinced he came straight out of a fairytale—but your fantasy was going to come crashing down.
"y/n...why do you never roll up your sleeves when you wash the dishes? they're gonna get all wet!" his tone playful.
"i-its fine hoon, these are just a few dishes anyways" you try force a small laugh as a chill runs down your spine.
"come on sweetheart lemme roll 'em up for you..."
"i said it fine-"
his hand reaches towards your sleeves, pulling them up your arm slightly. you reflexively move away from him, your mind went into overdrive.
"SUNGHOON STOP! I SAID IT'S FINE!" your arm harshly shoved his body away from yours, the glass you were holding flying out of your hand. the sound of the glass shattering on the kitchen floor seemed to echo in the room.
silence fell between you two. your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your chest heaving from your heavy breathing. all you could was cup your hands over your mouth, your eyes looking at the broken glass a few feet away from you and then to your boyfriend. his expression made you sick. he has never looked at you this way. you couldn't tell if he was scared, angry, sad. it didn't matter.
"hoon i-i'm so so sorry, i didn't mean to push you. fu-fuck the glass i'm sorry i'll clean it up" large streams of tears flowed down your cheeks and you managed to get the sentence out in between sobs.
you felt yourself spiraling. you dropped to your knees and crawled towards the broken glass. the sight of the the pieces blurry from your tears and you picked up the pieces with your hands and putting the shards in your palm.
sunghoon was more confused than angry at you, it all happened so fast he barely had time to react. but seeing you pick up the shards of glass with your bare hands snapped him back to reality. he dropped down in front of you on the floor.
"baby stop! what're you doing?! you'll hurt yourself" his voiced laced with concern. he put a hand on your arm and cupped the side of your face with his other hand, wiping the tears away with him thumbs.
you couldn't stop the tears from escaping you. you couldn't believe what you just did. sunghoon was just trying to do a sweet, innocent gesture for you and in the end you hurt him. you didn't deserve him. you knew you couldn't hide it from him forever but you didn't think it would all end like this.
he leaned his forehead to yours, searching to meet your eyes. you just couldn't look at him.
"please y/n, what's going on?" his eyes wide and he pleaded for an answer. catching your breath after what felt like countless sobs, you gently placed the shards back on the floor.
"i need to tell you something hoon."
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you followed sunghoon's order to meet in your room as he swept up the broken glass. you sat on your bed as you prepared how you were going to explain all of this.
you didn't want to lose him. he was the best thing that has ever happened to you. all you could imagine was his mortified or disgusted face when he sees your arms. the thought made all your tears resurface. sunghoon sat down next to you on your bed.
"i'm sorry for pushing you hoon. i shouldn't have done that." you took a deep breath before continuing.
"i-i've been hiding something from you since we met. i knew i couldn't h-hide it forever, but i never knew how or when to tell you." you didn't know what else to say to explain. you silently pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing.
your arms illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table. silent tears ran down your face as you exposed yourself to him. you have never felt so vulnerable, bare, and scared in your entire life.
"sunghoon i-" before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a silent embrace. one hand pushing your waist to be flush against him, and the other to the nape of your neck.
you eventually muster up the courage to pull away to look up at him. silent tears flowed down sunghoon's cheeks. your eyes widened, sunghoon never cried. your lip quivered at the sight. it was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheek as he did for you earlier.
"um i don't really know what else to say but this explains why i've always covered up my arms around you, why i never was intimate with you...even though i really really wanted to..." you let out a chuckle through your cries trying to lighten the mood.
"...i-i'm sorry i'm such a mess. i know you probably didn't want this going into the relationship. i just- i'm so sorry hoon... i get it if this too much for you."
"you don't have anything to be sorry for y/n..." he grabbed your hand to lace it together with his.
"...this is definitely not an easy thing to share. it just breaks my heart to see someone so kind, smart, and beautiful could do this to herself" he kissed your lips, one of his salty tears landed on your lips.
he used your currently intertwined hands to lift up your arms, placing gentle yet tender kisses to each mark on your arms, your breath hitching at his every touch. this was the first time anyone has been so close, seen you at the most vulnerable. and yet he is treating you like you are made of porcelain.
"this isn't too much y/n. i still think you are the most beautiful person i've ever met—inside and out. this is just a reminder or how strong you are and you overcame whatever you faced in the past. i hope one day you can open up and confide in me because i'm here for you baby. through the good and the bad, especially the bad. because i love you."
your heart melted at his comforting and sincere words, now shedding tears of joy.
"i-i love you too hoon, thank you"
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taglist (open!): @laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains
ramblings: this made me so soft and healed my past self 🥺 would you guys like to see more full fics/series or oneshots like this?
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
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starsofang · 2 days
Text
Change of Heart
hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 3
previous part
tw: alcohol use, brief mentions of suicide, soft ghost <3
When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.
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Day six.
You made it another day in your deal with Ghost, and it was supposed to feel good. The entire point was to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t want to die, that you could figure out the demons in your head and summon them out, but it was proving to be a much more difficult task than you thought.
Waking up on the morning of your sixth day didn’t feel all that good like you thought it would. Ghost hadn’t returned to your apartment since he stayed to see you make it to day five, and you weren’t sure when he was coming back.
It wasn’t clear why you were taking a liking to his company. Maybe you were lonely, maybe you just needed a friend, and he happened to be there in the right place at the right time.
The thought of it scared you, though. You hadn’t let anybody into your life since your ex-boyfriend, and you always preferred it that way – keeping a distance meant you wouldn’t get hurt again, and certainly, this masked man would eventually do the same thing to you if he decided to stick around.
You wanted to call the deal off. Not because you still wanted him to kill you, not because you wanted your life to end, but because you didn’t want to grow attached, just for you to not have a change of heart in the end.
It would be fucked up of you if you allowed a bond to form between you and Ghost, only to take it away through an act of death after the deal was up. That would just be plain selfish.
So, you tried distracting yourself instead.
It was a nice day today, and the weather, albeit chilly with that slight bite of cold wind, was an almost perfect excuse to take a night off and have fun by yourself in a bar. Surely, that doesn’t count as you going against Ghost’s deal of self-healing bullshit if it’s just for fun, right?
That’s exactly what led you to appear at a local bar downtown. Ironically, it was right down the street from the coffee shop where you first met Simon in the meeting to discuss your self-proclaimed suicide mission. You passed it on your walk to the bar, and a slight feeling of guilt tugged at your heartstrings as your eyes drifted to it, even as it was already behind you.
Shaking the guilt away, you continued on your journey along the sidewalk. There was no reason to feel guilty. You owed nothing to Ghost, and you were still technically keeping up your end of the bargain. A harmless night of fun was something you needed to shoo away those demons, at least that’s what you told yourself.
The bar wasn’t packed, which you didn’t mind. After all, it was only a Thursday night and most people had work the next morning. Lucky for you, that meant the bar wouldn’t take a long time for your drink orders, so you wasted no time in diving in, conversing with the bartender as the night went on.
About four drinks in, you could feel the weight of the alcohol lay heavy on your mind. It made things a bit hazy, like a brewing fog was beginning to loom over you. Your arms rested comfortably on the bar counter, head slightly bowed down as you attempted to keep yourself upright. Being an ex-alcoholic (you absolutely were not an ex, you just loved to float down the river of denial), alcohol was unpredictable in the way it affected your body.
Sometimes, it forced you to loosen up and have fun.
Other times, it made the weight of your issues much heavier.
Right now, it was an awkward middle, like your body was torn between wanting to enjoy this moment of serene relaxation, and wanting to plop right into bed and sleep your worries away, pretending they never existed in the first place.
The sound of somebody plunking themselves down on the stool next to you forced your head to lift, and when you came in sight of that damned mask, you wanted to stand up and let your legs lead you right to the bar’s exit.
Ghost sat unbothered, ordered himself a bourbon from the kind bartender. She flashed him a polite smile, throwing me a slight glance, and when you gave her a shrug, she left the two of you alone after retrieving Ghost’s drink.
“You a stalker now or something?” you grumbled in feigned annoyance, letting your head loll back down on the counter with a huff.
Ghost’s hand wrapped around the glass of bourbon while the other lifted his mask enough to reveal his mouth. You noticed instantly that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, and you stared at the littered scars on his hands as well as the veins that ran up from his knuckles and beneath the cuff of his hoodie sleeve.
Swallowing, you forced yourself to look away from them, opting on his eyes.
“Somethin’ like that,” he hummed, tipping the glass to his mouth to take a sip of the bitter alcohol. You wrinkled your nose up at it, not quite fond of dark liquor (though, who were you to be picky, seeing your collection of scattered bottles that consumed your home?).
“‘M not gonna kill myself, y’know,” you slurred out in defense, rolling your head so your cheek rested flat on the counter as you stared at him with what you hoped was perceived as disapproval.
“I know, love. Wouldn’t hire me if you were.”
Touche.
Frowning to yourself, you observed the way his lips parted to allow more of the murky liquor to pour into his mouth and down his throat, your eyes dropping to see his throat bob as he swallowed. The small scar on his lips caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment more, taking in the slight curve of it over his top lip, the scar tissue white in contrast to the light pinkess of his mouth.
“Why are you here?” you managed to ask, having to practically pry your eyes away from him.
The alcohol must’ve been getting to your brain too much, because you had the brief thought that he looked pretty. Gosh, half of his face was still covered by the mask, what was wrong with you?
“Went by your place. Saw you weren’t there.”
“You mean broke into my place,” you corrected, and you swore you nearly saw stars from the way his lip curled up in amusement.
“Mm. Maybe that,” he agreed with a careless shrug.
He leaned one of his arms on the counter, tilting his head in your direction. You could feel his eyes taking you in, studying you as always, as if you were a book he was analyzing every time he saw you. They stare at your cheeks, flushed from the alcohol. Your hair, which was lazily falling in your face from where your head lay. Your mouth, which was pulled into a mix of a frown and a pout that you clearly had no intentions of wiping off.
“Why are you here?” He repeated the question back to you, and you gave him the same shrug he had given you.
“I can’t have fun?”
“This fun to you?”
“...No.”
He chuckled out a laugh that rumbled you to the core, and you blinked stupidly at him as he downed the rest of the bourbon.
“Thought so, sweetheart. It’s a bit dingy in here, innit?”
You shifted your eyes to take in the bar, and sad to say, he was right. The bar itself wasn’t all that great, though you didn’t necessarily come because it was lavish. It was pretty old and outdated, with wooden counters, old floors, and stools that creaked under every movement. But hey, they had a pool table and a dart board, so it wasn’t all that bad.
“Maybe just a bit,” you sighed out, and he smiled at you.
“Right. So why are you here?” He asked again, and you stared at him for a moment before sighing again.
“Figuring myself out like you wanted me to,” you offered, and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow under the balaclava.
“Figurin’ yourself out with half a dozen vodka cranberries isn’t somethin’ I see as helpful. Weird choice in drink, by the way.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but promptly shut it, because damn it, vodka cranberries really weren’t all that good.
His fingers tapped mindlessly along the empty glass in front of him, and you found your gaze once again drifting to take in the rough pads of his fingers and healed cuts on the back of his hand. For a moment, a very, very brief moment, you wished you could reach out and take hold of it, just to feel what it was like to hold somebody else’s hand again.
It had been a long time since you’d had any sort of touch, both innocent and intimate, and your ex-boyfriend certainly wasn’t the type of man to hold your hand like delicate glass and place kisses along the back of it.
Ghost let out a long sigh through his nose as he took note of your mental absence. “That pretty head of yours is always runnin’ around.”
Pretty head. He always said that, and now, it caused a weird clench in your chest.
“You’re pretty,” you blurted out drunkenly, and when Ghost stared at you in silence, you prayed that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Never in your life had something so embarrassing happened, and you weren’t even sure why you said that.
You’d met Ghost a total of three times, and it wasn’t under normal circumstances. Most people meet a man on dating apps or at a damn park where they accidentally bump into one another and have a moment of love at first sight. You met Ghost off of the fucking dark web.
“You’re pretty too, sweetheart.” He chuckled in amusement, seemingly unbothered by your sudden display of admiration, and you felt your cheeks warm.
You aggressively turned your head away from him, plopping your other cheek on the counter so you wouldn’t have to look at him. He made no move to stop you, which you were thankful for.
“Think it’s ‘bout time you start goin’ home and get yourself ready for day seven, yeah?”
Ghost’s voice sent a buzz through your already fuzzy body, and instead of protesting, you found yourself nodding despite him being unable to see your face.
Yeah, home sounded good. Your bed sounded good. Sleeping this shame off sounded good.
“Okay,” you agreed quietly, and when you felt a hand lightly rest on your shoulder, you picked your head up to look at him.
His mask was back over his mouth, but his eyes crinkled in a familiar smile as he gestured his head to the bar door.
Oh. He wanted to walk you.
You stood on legs of jelly, lightly swaying as you gained your balance. His hand reached out to grab hold of your elbow, and when you met his soft gaze, you felt small underneath it. Tall was what he was, towering over you, but instead of feeling intimidated like you did in your first meeting, you felt a wave of security.
Ghost had somehow knew you would be here, drinking away your sorrows, and he showed up with no judgment. Now he was offering to walk you to your apartment, even though he barely knew you.
Were hitmen always this sweet? Or was it just Ghost?
You let your mind run astray as he gently guided you out of the bar and on the sidewalk of downtown, keeping a light grip on you the entire way. No words were said, but none needed to be. The silence was comforting, and it allowed you your moment of serenity while you processed just how much this man was doing for you on his own free whim.
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You expected Ghost to simply drop you off at your door and leave you to go inside, but when he fumbled with the doorknob and led you into your home, you realized he wasn’t that kind of asshole and he wanted to make sure you made it to bed instead of a heap on the floor.
His hand remained on your elbow as he took you to your room. The sight of your bed was one that could’ve brought you to tears, and you happily crawled into it, curling up in a ball the moment your head hit the pillow.
Ghost stood by your bedside as he waited for you to get comfortable, before stepping out of the room. At first, you thought he left you without saying goodbye.
Your mind plagued you in those futile seconds. Was he mad at you? Did you disappoint him by going out and drinking again?
Then you heard the tell tale signs of him rummaging around in cabinets, and you could only guess he was in the kitchen. You continued to lay there patiently while he proceeded with whatever task he busied himself with, eyes staring into the darkness that filled the room.
When he returned, he was holding a glass of water, which he set carefully on the nightstand near your head.
You didn’t understand. Nobody had ever shown you such kindness before. Life had only ever given you the hands of people who would use you up until you were wrung dry. People always expected things in return, and your fear was making you wonder if that was what Ghost was expecting.
To make things worse, you practically invited that idea into his head by saying he was pretty.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. It came out in a tone that revealed your hidden uncertainty, and he instantly took note of it from the way his eyes softened beneath the fabric of his mask.
“You’re drunk. Not goin’ to just leave you there to dehydrate.”
“No.” You shook your head, frowning up at him. “I mean, why are you doing any of this? The deal, helping me, watching me, I– I don’t understand. I can’t give you what you want.”
“And what is it that I want, sweetheart?” he asked you, crouching down by your bedside so he could be eye level with you. You wanted to look away, you should’ve looked away, but you had never seen such gentle eyes before.
“I… I don’t know. Sex? More money? Isn’t this all some sort of trick?”
“Sex? A trick?” His tone was slightly offended, perhaps even hurt, and you instantly wanted to take your words back. “No, sweetheart, that’s not why I’m doin’ any of this. I’m doin’ this ‘cause I care.”
“But why?”
The air filled with silence as we competed in a staredown, and the sobering side of you was regretting every moment of this conversation. Stupid girl, always ruining good things, why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut–
“I see myself in you,” he confessed, and you shut your mind up. You didn’t respond, only continuing to stare at him, waiting for him to continue. “You’re hurtin’. I can see that. Life’s treated you real bad, hasn’t it?”
His words felt both like salt being poured into your open wounds, while simultaneously placing a bandaid over them with loving hands.
“You’re the only person who’s ever tried to hire me to kill themselves. Couldn’t just leave you high ‘n dry like that, not when you’re hurtin’ that bad. I don’t want to kill you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“But… you will, if I end up deciding that’s what I want, right?” You weren’t sure if you were convincing yourself or convincing him.
Ghost stared at you, eyes flickering over your face that was dimly lit up from the stray rays of moonlight peeking in through your sliding door of your balcony. Your eyes were slightly glossed over from both the alcohol and unshed tears that threatened to spill, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, to encourage you to let them fall.
“Don’t know if I have the willpower to do that to you anymore, sweetheart.”
He stood up from where he was crouched beside your bed, and your eyes followed, staying locked on his.For a pause in time, the two of you said nothing, and the room filled with a deafening silence that made it hard to breathe.
It was broken when he carefully lifted his hand, reaching to your face to brush a stray hair that was hanging over your eyes. The rough pad of his finger lingered, tracing along your eyebrow and tracing out the feature before promptly pulling back.
“Get some rest,” he said, voice soft and quiet, but still with the tinges of gravelly undertone that made it sound like a sweet lullaby.
Your nod was confirmation for him to leave, and as he stepped out of your bedroom, you called out to him.
“Thank you for bringing me home, Ghost,” you thanked with a grateful smile.
He looked at you for a moment before smiling himself, evident in the way his eyes wrinkled.
“Call me Simon, love.”
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mintymarabell · 2 days
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Platonic yandere elder yautja.
An elder whose strong and powerful in status but not fertile, his seed never taking so he never had children of his own.
He would beat himself up over it all the time, thinking he was not good enough.
He’ll be on earth just wondering around aimlessly when he sees you, a teenager who was crying in the woods.
He would watch curiously, wondering what you were doing alone.
When you get up and leave after composing yourself he’ll follow after you, when you lead him to a house that has two ooman pairs having a yelling match inside he somewhat connects the dots.
He will watch over you over the months, noticing the neglect in the household. He’s so jealous, your parents barely pay you any mind or even care for you and yet he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Maybe one time you’re in your room curled up in bed trying to sleep through your parents continuous arguing when your window slowly slides open, you don’t notice until there’s a big thump and suddenly something is in your room.
You go to scream but a large hand is cupped over your mouth to quiet the sound.
When you wake up again you’re in a different room, one much bigger than your previous one the bed huge and comfortable with alien soft sheets and silk pillows.
A small tray of breakfast sat on the nightstand to your left still warm.
He won’t reveal his scary appearance to you, living as a ghost in his own home as he provided for you better than your parents ever had.
Maybe one day, after a few months of living in the strange very futuristic like house you explore, walking around the grand halls, looking into the various bedrooms, some being children others being for an adult, you simply marveled at the design.
Maybe you walk outside to see the scenery and notice the different colors of the sky, the amber atmosphere.
You wander farther from the house, towards the pristine gates and walk out of them as you look at this ‘new world’ in hopes of feeding your growing curiosity.
Maybe you venture too far, finding you had zoned out and was now in the woods with faint growling and the once twin suns now settling into a dark sky.
Your breathing hitched as you looked around frantically trying to remember where it is you came from, then suddenly something hops from the tree, it is some beast, clearly not from earth.
The beast stalking towards you as it readied itself to attack and then it lunged, you closed your eyes and waited but it never came.
Instead a loud crash could be heard as something ran into the beast, you opened your eyes and seen the beast but nothing else.
It was as if the beast was fighting its imaginary friend, though in this case enemy.
The beast had brawled with the other invisible being, at some point in the fight the beast had landed a hit, the sound of flesh tearing and electric sparks then its invisible cloak was unveiled.
You had been inching back this whole time, slowly but surely won the race right? Though as you inched back, you noticed the humanoid was beginning to slack. Noticing a healing wound on its shoulder blade being the issue of its delay.
You had decided it was clearly on your side so you picked up a size ably sharp stick. Beginning to walk back toward the fight just as the beast had pinned the your possible new friend; you stabbed it right through the throat.
The humanoid pushed off the now dead carcass, standing up slowly. This had given you a moment to look at him truly. He had four mandibles with sharp fangs on the end, along with long dread like hair that was graying. After the awkward pause he had ruffled your hair and pushed you back in the direction of the house you had stayed at.
It had been a few months, your new father now walking around with no invisible cloak. He was in short terms, protective. If you had went out he went along and never let you go far. It appeared he lived alone, in a massive home.
You could get used to it, though you hoped it wasn’t forever it’d be like this.
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sashaisready · 2 days
Text
This Must Be The Place: Chapter 6 - Nothing's wrong
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Nothing specific, I don’t think? Bucky still being a dick. But what else is new?
I think you guys are going to find this satisfying hehehehe.
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You marched back to the bar with your head held high, refusing to allow yourself to look over at Amber and Bucky and tie yourself up in knots any longer. You checked the time on your phone and placed it on the bar shelf behind you, almost closing. You’d finish up, then when you got home you’d think about if you really want to stay in this job.
“Gonna do last call, Tom, then I’ll cash out and if you could start cleaning up”.
“Got it, boss” he replied happily.
You smiled back. You absolutely weren’t his boss, but he was sweet.
You rang the bell for last call and announced it loudly to the bar. A few of the plant guys came rushing over to order their last beers. Tom handled that while you served a couple of other dawdlers.
A tall man in a baseball cap appeared suddenly, grinning as he brandished a $20 bill.
“For you,” he said softly. “For putting up with our annoying, drunk asses all night”.
You chuckled, accepting the tip as you looked at him properly. You’d seen him earlier with the other plant guys but not really paid much attention as your focus was on the obscene number of drinks his friends kept ordering.
He was…kinda cute. A scruff of almost reddish-brown hair under his cap. Big green eyes. A dusting of stubble across his chin and jaw. Not quite as big as Bucky, but broad and sturdy.
“Ah well thank-you so much...you guys kept me busy…and I got a bunch of tips, so I guess I can’t complain,” you told him cheerily as you folded the bill and put it in your pocket. “Plus, you’ve all been well behaved, despite how much you’ve knocked back”.
“Well…this bar has the most bouncers we’ve ever seen,” he joked, thumbing the air in the direction of the MC.
You laughed. “True…that does make my job a little easier”.
“I’m sure being super cute helps too,” he grinned as he leaned in. Then his face immediately crumpled. “Oh…my god. I’m sorry. So, so lame. It sounded so smooth in my head…”
You giggled shyly, charmed by his embarrassment. “No…no it was sweet. Thanks…”
You felt yourself blushing a little, heat rushing to your cheeks as you were caught off guard by this interaction. Your previous anger melting away. You felt lighter suddenly.
“I’m Peter. Peter Quill. Hey”.
You beamed back and offered your own name as you shook the hand he’d extended to you.
You both looked at one another for a moment, your smile stretching as you allowed yourself to bathe in his attention.
“It’s last call man, you orderin’?” came a surly voice from behind Peter.
Bucky suddenly had appeared at the bar, his eyes flitting between you both.
“Uh…no, I’m good for tonight, thanks. Was just tipping your very helpful bartender before I head out”.
You smiled back at him, ignoring the heat of Bucky’s gaze on you.
“Yes…thank-you. Very much appreciated, Peter,” you responded.
You both turned to look at Bucky who seems to blanch as you use Peter’s name, but he makes no effort to move. He looked…pissed off? Riled up? His fists were clenched at his sides, his mouth a thin straight line. You weren’t sure why he was suddenly hanging around here like a bad smell, especially as he had been indisposed all evening.
Wait…is Bucky…?
Peter looked back at you, then awkwardly at Bucky, then back to you again. “Could I…uh…”
Realisation hit you like a freight train.
Oh god. He is…
…He’s jealous.
Bucky is jealous.
Peter looked at Bucky once more who remained still, watching Peter carefully. Peter seemed to accept that he had an awkward audience of one and looked back at you again before clearing his throat.
“Maybe…uh…I could get your number and we could…y’know…go out some time?”
Your face lit up and you ignored the almost imperceptible sound of the puff of air Bucky huffed out of his noise.
 “Uh…sure. Great”.
You grabbed a napkin from the holder on the bar and a pen from your pocket and scribbled down your number, practically nauseous with the dual feeling of getting a date with a cute guy and Bucky bearing witness to it. You smiled at Peter as you pushed the napkin across the bar with your fingers.
He picked it up like it was a precious artefact, holding it close to his face as he inspected it.
“Wow…right amount of numbers and everything,” he joked.
You giggled back bashfully. “Yep…I promise it’s real and not the number of a pizza place or something…”
“Honestly? I’d be impressed you had the the number for the pizza place memorised even if it did mean I was rejected…”
You both laughed and he carefully folded up the napkin and put it in his pocket. At the same time, a bunch of his group had started to down the dregs of their drinks and drift towards the exit. One nudged him on the arm as he passed, mumbling something about ‘Rocket’ being designated driver. Whatever the hell that means.
“Well…better get going. I’ll uh…see ya” he smiled.
You nodded and smiled in return as he turned and headed out. Once he’d left, you kept your eyes down and picked up a washcloth, rhythmically dabbing at the sticky drink residue on the bar surface. You could feel Bucky still looming over you, but he hadn’t said anything. You sprayed some cleaning fluid and continued.
“You’re still on the clock you know,” he muttered.
“Oh...Am I not working right now?” you asked ingenuously as you kept your eyes down on your busywork. You knew your tone was pushing it, but frankly, so was he.
“You are now…but you weren’t…then”.
The emphasis on ‘then’ was loaded and it was clear what 'then' exactly he was referring to.
“Well…I’m sorry you lost those three minutes,” you answered sharply, turning to look at him. You narrowed your eyes at his stoic frown. “How about I stay an extra three minutes after my shift…and we call it even?”
He glared back at you, knowing he didn’t have a leg to stand on and so was unable to say anything back. He'd never been strict about you chatting to customers or taking short breaks before, so he couldn't suddenly start now.
“I need to speak to you anyway,” you continued calmly as you resumed your cleaning. “About this job”.
You looked back up at him and swore you saw a flash of panic in his eyes, but it was gone so fast you couldn’t be sure.
Suddenly Amber bounded up to the bar, oblivious to the strange tension between the two of you. You suppressed an eye roll and went back to your washcloth.
“Bucky…the girls have asked if there’s an after party tonight?” she asked coyly, draping herself over him like a scarf.
Your phone vibrated loudly on the bar shelf behind you, causing both you and Bucky to glance over at it. He couldn’t fully see from his vantage point, but you watched as Wanda’s name flashed up on the screen. She was texting you, not a super keen Peter on his way home.
But Bucky didn’t know that…
“Don’t worry, boss,” you told him sweetly. “I won’t pick that up until I’m off the clock”.
His nose wrinkled and for a split second he looked like a wounded puppy. If he wasn’t such an asshole you might have felt sorry for him.
“James?” Amber whined. “Party?”
You looked at him incredulously, an eyebrow cocked. His real name was James?!
He was the least Jamesy James you’d ever met.
“Nope, not tonight” he sternly replied to her, but his eyes stayed on you.
“Tell Sam you need a ride, Ambs. I gotta do some work stuff”.
And with that, he stormed off to the back office.
Amber pouted as she watched him go, then looked back at you. “What’s up with him?”
You shrugged. “Beats me”.
She sighed and flopped down onto a bar stool, then began rifling through the napkins and straws, causing a small pile of them to spill out onto the bar. Great, thanks Amber. You hadn’t just refilled those or anything.
“He talks about you, you know” she told you softly as she looked down at an errant straw, perfectly manicured fingers wrapping around it.
You nearly spluttered laughing in shock. “Me?” you asked her.
Never in a million years did you expect her to say that.
“Mmm…” she purred as she put the straw in her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. Ugh, she really was pretty.
“Like he says you’re good at your job and stuff. But also that you’re funny. And smart. And stuff like that”.
You tilted your head as you looked at her, the wind taken out of your sails from the sheer shock of what she was telling you.
“Huh…” you responded as you try to downplay your sudden interest. “Well…that’s nice of him, I guess”.
“Ya…” she nodded.
“Amber…?” you asked.
She looked up at you and smiled.
“Is he really called James?”
She giggled. “Ya. He’s like...James Buchanan. Buchanan is his middle name. So, they all call him Bucky. He only lets certain people call him James. Special privileges”.
“I see,” you nodded. “Like you, huh?”
She sighed, pouting sadly. “Mmm…but…I dunno how ‘special’ I really am these days”.
Before you could ask what she meant, she changed the subject suddenly.
“Saw you talking to that guy from the plant. He was cute”. She grinned at you.
You found yourself laughing at the sudden tone shift and the excited glee on her face. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.
“Yeah…he is,” you nodded. “I haven’t really been on the dating scene for a while though. Not sure if I remember how…”
You weren’t sure why you told her that…
She just giggled. “Oh…shut up. Look at you. You’re a total hottie. You’ll be great”.
You felt your cheeks flush, but before you could say anything else she stood up from the bar stool and called out across the bar.
“Saaaammy. I need a ride!”
“I got you, baby girl!” he called back.
She grinned at you as she sauntered off. “Well…good luck with cute guy”.
You watched her go, slightly shell shocked by the whole exchange.
Huh. That was…a lot.
*
Steve told you he’d lock up so after cleaning up and cashing out, you bid Tom and the MC farewell and headed out to the parking lot. You hadn’t seen Bucky…James…since his dramatic exit. But you couldn’t help but mull over what Amber had told you. What did she mean, ‘he talks about you’? What does he say exactly? How does he say it? What did she mean when she said she didn’t feel special these days? Did she know about your kiss?
And Bucky was clearly jealous of Peter, right? He wasn’t subtle about it. But he had ignored you all evening until that happened. Maybe it was just territorial bullshit rather than anything deeper.
Speaking of Peter…why were you even thinking about Bucky? You now had this sweet, funny guy on the cards who was upfront about his interest in you…unlike Bucky.
…So why couldn’t you just focus on him?
You sighed. You shouldn’t be getting involved with any man right now. It all had an expiration date anyway. You were here to sort the house and that was that. Granny would tease you for allowing yourself to get distracted, just like always.
As you approached your car, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you realised there was a dark figure leaning against the bonnet.
“Bucky! Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you scolded as you placed a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me”.
He stopped leaning, standing back up to his full height.
“We need to talk, Sugar” he said bluntly.
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picturejasper20 · 2 days
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Lets talk about how Danny Phantom loves to push the idea of ¨these two characters must be together because destiny said so¨ and the implications of it!
Okay, for starters there is quite a lot of fans that agree how Danny and Sam gets forced into the show, specially in Season 3. They don't have much development in their relationship around the show because it was a 2000's Butch Hartman show and things have to keep the *status quo*
We know that Marmel wanted for more Valerie and Danny development but he couldn't for continuity issues and probably because Hartman wasn't fond of the ship. It took around 20 episodes for Valerie to have another episode about her since breaking up with Danny in ¨Flirting With Disaster¨.
I say that it makes a lot of sense of why Valerie and Danny's relationship didn't last long in this context because Danny was still keeping secrets from Valerie and still involved a lot of lying- not exactly the best condition to be dating with someone. So the best solution is for Valerie to learn who Danny is, and then after things get better, they probably can start getting into dating again, right?
Well, sorry, you can't see any of that because this happens in the very last episode of the series, we don't get to see how Valerie reacts to it and it doesn't matter because now Sam x Danny is canon!
Lets talk about that ring:
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What bothers me is how, while this episode is about Danny being into Valerie and dating her, the ring that Jack gives to Danny has the name ¨Sam¨ on it. It is like the universe in show is screaming at Danny and the audience ¨See these two are the endgame! Haven't you realized it yet? Well, we are leaving you 100% clear with this¨.
Sarcastic Chorus made a video talking about the show keeps hammering you again and again that Danny and Sam are ¨meant to be together¨ by having characters commenting how everyone can see that except Danny and Sam, who it isn't clear why they don't tell what they feel to each other. He talks about how it gets really frustrating because nothing is exactly happening, people are just waiting for something to happen.
Let's move to ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ we have Gregor/Elliot and Sam falling in love with each other. They seem to share a lot in common, being into similar things. Danny keeps thinking that Elliot is an spy from the GIW and he is after him. I could get into the implications of Danny stalking Sam in this episode, but the one thing i want to focus on is that by the end of the episode it does get revealed that Elliot had been faking to share similar interests to Sam and was lying to her about who he really was. Was it because he was a spy from GIW? Nope! It was because he was tricking her into falling in love with him.
What frustrates me about this is the implications this episode gives: ¨If anybody else that likes Sam that isn't Danny, then that means that they are faking it! Danny is the only one who can love Sam and everybody else is trying to trick her¨. It is such a bad message and it sucks a lot for Sam to find someone that is a lot like her and then the writing go ¨sorry, they are a faker¨.
At least for Danny and Valerie made sense because it wasn't intended to work in that context, in ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ it just does dirty to Sam by spitting back in her face any chance of liking someone else that isn't Danny.
And episode that leaves a similar bad taste in mouth to me is Masters of All Time.
I have talked about this before, that in the alternative timeline Vlad and Maddie end up getting married together. Because they didn't want the kids in the audience to think about the implications about how Vlad might have been happier and not turned out evil from the proto lab accident, they had to make human! Vlad go against most of his previous established characterization of his regular self (like not allowing Maddie to use ghost gadgets for some reason) and be an abusive caricature of himself.
It couldn't be that maybe Vlad and Maddie didn't work together well, they have to leave obvious that no, Vlad is the terrible option and that Maddie and Jack are meant to be together. So much so that it said by the characters in the episode!
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See, the writers made human! Vlad a piece of shit to leave clear that Maddie can only marry Jack. Because destiny told it so! It isn't like Jack and Maddie are their own people and they can choose whoever they want.
Yeah, Jack and Maddie have to get back together so Danny and Jazz don't become non-existent, but it find it so dumb that they made human! Vlad a weird ass copy of Disney Gaston instead of just writing it in a way that maybe these two clash being a couple. It could be that Maddie finds Vlad nice but Vlad is too busy always working or he isn't as fun as Jack was. Then Maddie realizes that she wants to be with Jack instead.
While having some fun elements, Masters of All Time is an episode that gets dumber and with more weird implications the more you think about it. And telling us that Jack and Maddie have to be together not matter what is one of the reasons.
I just dislike how weird this series is about how ¨destiny told these two characters have to be together¨ and not treating the characters as something they choose to do. It is also weird how this seems to apply to the female characters, in how Sam and Maddie, the moment they like someone else that isn't Danny nor Jack, then it turns out that person has to be abusive or be faking it. Itis like the show says they ¨belong¨ to Jack and Danny and they can't be with anyone else because then it would be bad. It is as a whole pretty frustrating
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yuwuta · 1 day
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hi! this might be a bit of a vague ask, but how do you think yuuta is as a partner? like how does he treat his partner, his love language, giving & receiving affection, how a relationship with him would develop, etc. what are his guilty pleasures in a relationship? what are his favourite things to do with a partner? that kind of thing lol. i'm just in love with your yuuta so i was very curious! sorry!
hmm ok well there are basically 3 or 4 yuutas/yuuta aus that live in my head, and then like… some…. ground state version of him that is applicable to most boyfriend aus if that makes any sense 😭 idk how to explain this... but he’s got isomers that all can exist to me and then one normal version that’s just like… the core of who he is. i’m gonna stop talking about that now, but that’s all to say that the specifics of his guilty pleasures and favorite things to with his partner would depend on the au? but generally, he’s a very loyal and intimate person, so that carries through in all his thoughts and actions no matter which au it is
the love language his gives his acts of service. you want something, yuuta will get it for you or do it for you or figure out how to make it for you. he’s a yes man in the sense that he does not know how to say no to you. he’ll say yes before you can even finish detailing what it is you’re asking of him, and it stems from a few reasons.
firstly, yuuta is loyal, almost to a fault, so it doesn’t really matter what he does or who he hurts or undermines if he believes his words/actions are going to keep you safe or please you. his moral compass is skewed in the sense that he goes wherever you go, and it is about the final destination for him and not the journey; he wants to meet you where you are, and he won’t let things get in his way of getting to you. 
secondly, while yuuta is very jealous, possessive, and protective where it concerns you, he also has a deep desire for you to feel the same way about him, no matter how extreme or mundane that is. he wants to be the person you ask to do favors for you, he wants you to show him that you know that he’s yours to ask, to take advantage of, to, quite literally, make all your requests come true. also he pouts if you ask someone else, and considers murder if somebody else volunteers in his place. 
thirdly, there’s a bit of insecurity at play, too; yuuta puts you on a pedestal, and as such, he concretely believes that he isn’t truly worthy of you. you’re otherworldly to him, and he is just someone lucky enough to get to worship you in such proximity; so, he knows that, given the chance, anybody else would want to do the same thing, and he’ll be damned if he lets somebody else get the chance to take care of you. he knows somebody else could, so he doesn’t ever want to take the chance to let them. 
this last reason kind of ties in to all the previous ones, but he also gets off on pleasing you. in the literal, sexual sense, he could cum in his pants just from fingering you or eating you out, or honestly just kissing on the right day. but also, there’s a profound sense of pride and happiness in his chest whenever he does something for you. he’s happy to have made you happy or to have lifted a little burden for you, and he’s proud of himself because he’s proven to himself once again that while he might not be the greatest or strongest or smartest person, he’s more than capable of taking care of the person he loves, and that’s more than enough for him :(( also the words “thank you” coming from you is dirty talk to him he doesn’t even know it but his praise kink goes crazy
in terms of receiving affection, maybe quality time? yuuta could force his own proximity to you if he wanted to (and sometimes, he does), but there’s a certain… joy? relief? reassurance? when you choose to spend time with him or be close to him. it’s a reminder that you want to be with him even half as much as he wants to be with you. he also strikes me as the kind of person to have a bunch of little hobbies and/or to always have some kind of errand to run, so you choosing to tag along with him, or just sit in his room with him while he studies or reads or paints or whatever makes him very happy
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haikyu-mp4 · 2 days
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The sun and his flower
word count; 2133 – f!reader
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Hinata never really got into driving. He took his driver's licence, but never got around to buying a car after returning to Japan. So when the snow fell overnight and he overslept for practice with the Black Jackals, he had no other choice but to leave his bike and hop on a bus.
And he would forever be thankful that he did. Because that morning was the first time he saw you. You sat closer to the front of the bus, in one of those unfortunate seats turned the other way, so Hinata could watch as you bopped your head carefully to whatever music you listened to and stared out the window. Your movements didn’t quite match up with his own music, which he found annoying so he turned his off. Who still uses earbuds with a cord? he thought as he watched how the cord was tangled in with your scarf.
Even though he didn’t know the names of any particular flowers, he started comparing you to them.
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So he kept catching the bus, often running briskly to the bus stop just to make sure he could get on the right one, even if it was a bit early or a bit late.
Sometimes he got a seat where he could see your face, sometimes he had to pretend to adjust something to turn and catch glances at you, and sometimes he could only pout at the top of your head over the seat. Nonetheless, he started imagining what you did after stepping off the bus. Were you a student? A florist? A musician? Or maybe you worked in some office, like Kuroo.
You always got off before him, the same stop every time, and his eyes would follow you until you were blurry because the bus moved and then you were out of sight. He would then slump back in his seat, putting his headphones on for two more stops until he could get off, jogging to make up for the warm-up time he missed.
“You ever considered getting a car?” Sakusa asked him one day as Hinata shuffled into place beside them where they were finishing warm-ups while he started them, beginning with his thighs while Sakusa rolled his shoulders back into place.
“No,” Hinata answered sharply before chuckling, struggling a bit to keep his balance in the pose he used. “I mean, the bus is cheaper.”
Atsumu scoffed. “As if money for a car should be a problem, ya can get a little golf or something if yer so worried,” he said, jumping in place to loosen up his muscles.
“I could get a car, but I don’t really need it. Think of the environment, Tsumu.” Hinata teased back, switching legs as Bokuto came from the bathroom.
“Sho!” he cheered, not minding any conversation they might have had before. Hinata kept on with his warmup beside the net while they started with Atsumu setting for their spikes. Sakusa made little comments and quickly, everyone forgot about the previous conversation. Finally, Hinata was ready to spike. Atsumu set up a few for him before they were told to get ready for team practice, everyone taking a break to fill up on water.
As Hinata dried off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, he sighed. “Actually, there’s this girl,” he said, stopping when he heard someone gasp dramatically, not sure which of his team members it was as he continued. “On the bus, she’s really pretty.”
“Don’t be shy, tell us about ‘er,” Atsumu encouraged, leaning his arm uncomfortably on Sakusa’s shoulder, a motion that was quickly denied.
So Hinata did, he got up from the bench and with unnecessary gestures, he told them about which stop you get off at and detailed the colour of your hair. He had a small discussion with himself about what word to use for the colour of your eyes, and then when he finished he looked at his friends with the sweetest smile.
Bokuto, ever the optimist, nodded encouragingly. “And?”
Hinata’s nose scrunched. “That’s it. We haven’t talked yet.”
“You take the bus every day just to stare at her? That’s not creepy at all,” Sakusa said sarcastically, ending the conversation on that note as they were called back to the court.
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You didn’t mean to. Your eyes usually stayed on the scenery passing by, making up scenes in your head based on whatever music your shuffled playlist handed you, so you didn’t mean to make eye contact with the orange-haired guy when you were on your way off the bus. He sat in the seat closest to the door, and when your eyes met his, he smiled. You could have sworn it was cloudy outside, so why was the sun sitting on the bus with you this whole time? And why didn’t you notice it before?
The moment was cut short as more people were getting off, some burly man bumping your shoulder to get off and naturally pushing you along as you realised it was indeed drizzling outside. By the time you turned around to seek his warmth again, the bus doors were closing and the bus carried your sunshine away.
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The day after, the volume on your earbuds was a bit lower as you stepped on the bus, looking around uncharacteristically and deflating when you realised there was no orange hair in sight. So you sat down in the seat behind where he sat yesterday and got back to looking out the window.
It wasn’t until four stops later that someone sat down beside you, and you frowned when you looked forward and saw that the bus wasn’t that full, so then you turned to whoever sat beside you. And there he was, warm just like the last time you saw him.
“Sorry, is it okay if I sit here?” he asked, loudly enough to disturb other commuters, but you couldn’t hear while your earbuds were still in. Your eyes zeroed in on his cheeks where there were tiny freckles kissed by a soft red flush, probably from running to the bus stop or something. Then you looked down, noticing how his lips were moving before his tongue ran between them, oh.
You picked your earbud out before tucking some hair behind your ear so you could see him properly, taking in a quick breath. “Sorry! What did you say?” you asked, corners of your lips tilted up.
Hinata chuckled, skipping the question of whether or not he could sit there. “What are you listening to?” he asked instead, pointing to the earbud you were rolling between your fingers.
You hesitated for a second before simply handing the earbud over, an inviting glint in your eyes as you silently let him indulge in your privacy. He smiled even brighter, making you squint slightly before he took the earbud and put it in his ear, subconsciously leaning a bit closer so he wouldn’t pull yours out.
And as he started slightly moving his head, you wondered what he was so happy about so early in the morning. If the sun’s brightest time is midday, why does it feel like it’s right here at 06.47? You chuckled silently under your breath, wondering if everyone else on the bus felt his warmth too. “I like your smile,” you said before you could stop yourself.
Hinata really liked your music, it suited you and at the same time, it was nothing like what he imagined. He didn’t listen to music that often, preferring to listen to his breathing and nature while jogging, but he could get used to this if he could share it with someone. With you.
When you took the initiative to talk more, he almost felt shy about it, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “Thank you. I like your music,” he said, wanting to compliment you back but feeling like he couldn’t just say I like you. Because he did, he knew so little about you that it wasn’t easy to pinpoint anything, but he just liked you.
Eventually, you had to get off, so Hinata scrambled out of his seat, making your earbud fall out. Now he stood beside the seat, the two of you still connected as you held your phone and he had the earbud in. Quickly, he took it out and apologised, to which you told him not to worry before walking past him and in the heat of your fluster, you didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even catch his name.
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The next time you sat down on the bus, you were determined to do better, exactly how Hinata was yesterday as he braced himself to talk to you. When Hinata once again stepped on the bus at his usual stop, you lifted your hand and waved at him, making him smile and come over to sit beside you. “Hey!” he greeted cheerfully.
“Hi,” you responded, very aware of your upper arm pressed against his even if there was space enough not to. You handed over one earbud for him, taking in a deep breath of courage. “You never told me your name.”
Hinata took the earbud but didn’t put it in his ear. “Shoyo. Hinata Shoyo.” He mentally cursed at how he sounded like James Bond, but every other thought dissipated when you responded with your name. He liked it. He looked at you, noticing how prettily your eyelashes swung out at the edge and how he could finally decide on your eye colour now that he saw you up close. “Pretty,” he whispered, not sure if he was talking about your name or just you.
You blushed, turning away for a moment and then looking back at him, wondering the same thing as he did. “What do you do, Shoyo?” you asked, letting his name roll off your tongue like a sour candy you weren’t sure you could handle but still felt tempted to eat up.
“I’m a professional volleyball player,” he answered, looking proud. Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise.
“Really? That’s so cool!” you said, making sure you didn’t talk too loudly and disturb others on the bus. You were amazed and naturally let your eyes browse down to get a glimpse of his physique. Professional athlete. “I don’t know why I thought professional athletes didn’t use public transport.”
If you asked his teammates, they don't, he thought. Hinata nodded, mindlessly twirling the earbud in his hand, which made you take yours out and tug on the cord to put it away. “And you? What do you do?” He bit his lip lightly in anticipation, every one of his theories flashing by in his mind. He checked the screen to find it wasn’t that long until you had to get off.
“It’s boring, I work in a cafe,” you said, nose scrunching at how lame your job was compared to his.
“You don’t like it?” he asked curiously. You hummed a short tone, thinking about it.
“I kinda love it. It’s just not as cool as being a volleyball player,” you said, emphasis on the last words, which made Hinata huff out a short laugh. “I’m not sure what I want to do yet.”
“If you like it, it’s cool,” he said like there was no use arguing. And you suppose it wasn’t, because you should in fact enjoy these years of your life where you’re still figuring things out. “Can I come with you?”
You blinked at him, looking from the front of the bus and back to him. “Yes? But weren’t you going somewhere?”
“I don’t even have work today, I just got on the bus to see you,” he admitted, and you hoped your gleeful laughter covered the sound of your heartbeat.
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Now you’re together all the time, but you’re not always on the bus. You’re at the cafe, taking a break and sharing a piece of cake, you’re in the park either talking and laughing or having him show you how to play volleyball and laughing even more, you’re at his place and kissing on his couch after not seeing each other all day while your music plays softly on the speakers, you’re at his game to cheer for him and then meet all his friends and perhaps even family, and you’re in a restaurant when he gives you a little silver ring to promise you two stick together even while figuring things out. Things like how to open a brand new cafe in Brazil after he airs the idea of moving back there.
Because the two of you just wanted to be together, like how flowers always seem to reach for the sun and the sun does its best to keep them warm in the limited time it has.
masterlist
/tags @hotvinimon @makkir0ll
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arlathavellan · 3 days
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Phantom Pains | III
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Fandom: ACOTAR
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Reader: she/her, (3/4-High Fae, 1/4-Tartera), Y/N used
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 2.7k
Something is... wrong. Time missing, memories missing, thoughts missing. Wondering where things both big and small disappeared to, like the dress you were working on or even the past seventeen hours of your day. Something is very wrong, and the thought seems to slip your mind as soon as it comes. || Azriel has been a part of your life for years now, and has been courting you since the fall of Hybern. Only, things don't seem to be as simple as you'd both assumed they'd be. It seems someone thought you were the weak link-- the easy ticket to infiltrating the inner circle through its spymaster. And maybe you are.
|| Previous Part | Next Part (wip) | Masterlist ||
All Azriel ever wanted was to keep you safe. From the moment he first saw you, he knew you were something precious, something to be protected. Convinced he knew best how, he kept you away from the inner court, away from the side of himself he was afraid you would turn from in fear. His hubris and shame kept you away from the people who could protect you while he was gone.
Cas and Mor had wanted to be introduced to you years ago, before things were even official between the two of you. Afraid it would only put a target on your back, he let himself pretend it was better for you to never cross paths with that part of his life.
After the war, he started to let his guard down. Mor would commission gowns from you, both supporting you and building a professional relationship as a compromise to respect Azriel's boundaries. When he eventually decided it was time to officially introduce you to everyone, he went to Feyre first, thinking it would be easiest for you to connect artist-to-artist rather than let one of the others completely overwhelm you. She was happy to agree, and excited at the prospect of helping ease you into their family. When she finally got her dress, it brought your little shop more attention than you'd had since coming to own it. The way your face lit up when you told him about having to hire someone to help you out helped reassure him that he'd made the right choice. He wanted nothing more than to introduce you to the rest of his loved ones, knowing they'd love you almost as much as he did.
It was obvious to them all how much you meant to Azriel.
It was obvious to everyone who knew who he was that you were the Spymaster's weakness.
That was his mistake; growing too comfortable with the bubble of peace that had existed undisturbed around the two of you. When he was with you, he let himself imagine he was someone else, someone with less blood on his hands.
He never should have forgotten, never should have let his guard down. It didn't matter how many times he'd been able to walk you home with no issue— every moment you were seen with him was a public admittance that you were important to him. Azriel could never be a normal illyrian, never act like it was possible to separate the parts of himself. Every waking moment he was the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster. His love for you didn't keep you safe, it only made you a target. Everything he did to put a smile on your face made it that much easier for others to hurt you.
——
Azriel is on his way back from his mission when Rhysand gets in contact with him.
Come home, he says. Now.
He tries to ask questions. Anxiety swirls in the pit of his stomach as he flies, any response met with a resounding silence.
The mission had been underwhelming, the intel he'd gotten no more than cold tracks leading straight to a dead end. Whispers of rebellion, more faeries foolish enough to act out against Rhysand moreso because of what he is than what he's done. There was nothing when he'd gotten there, just a long-abandoned camp that left no clues behind. His shadows couldn't find anything either, returning just to whisper confusion in his ear. While he was ready to call it and go home, he didn't feel right dropping the thread without seeing where it might really end. After a week of searching, he felt like he'd been run in circles, and told Rhysand he was coming back to Velaris empty-handed. It seemed to be a routine the past year, a lot of low-effort surveillance that seemed to result in nothing.
Not even a souvenir? He'd joked.
He wasn't joking now.
"What's going on?" He asks in response, scanning the room. The atmosphere of the house is low, and it has all of his senses on high alert. "Is everyone okay?"
Azriel lands on the balcony of the Town House. If it were official Court business, Rhysand would be in the House of Wind. But the Town House? This was family business. He opened the doors swiftly, some of his shadows immediately fanning out to sweep the residence.
"Az," Cassian calls, voice tight and shoulders tensed as he practically marches towards him.
Shadows curl at his neck, overloading him with information. He winces, unable to sift through it all at once. They're panicked, some moving around the room so fast they're knocking chairs into the table and toppling over vases. The noise draws another person into the room as Cassian steadies him by his shoulders.
Room, he can barely make out in their desperate jumble of cries. Your room, your room. Five in house. Three in room. High Lord, doctor, sw—
"Azriel!" Mor cries, ducking around Cassian's wings to help hold him straight as his shadows continue their barrage of information, nearly knocking him off his feet in their haste.
Five in house. Three in room.
"Mor, grab a chair before they knock him down—" High lord.
"We don't have time—" Doctor.
"—just get Rhys—" Sweetheart.
Silence falls over the room as his shadows still in a single breath. His wide eyes meet Cassian's, flicker over to Mor's distressed, tear-streaked face, and the pieces fall into place.
"Y/N?" he breathes, terror gripping his chest.
Hands reach for him once more, mouths opening in explanation, but as his knees buckle, the light is sucked out of the room in an instant, and he's gone.
——
"Now," you say, making a few final adjustments to the garment in front of you. "There's still some work to be done, mostly alterations, but it will absolutely be done in time for the party."
The woman behind you is absolutely giddy, facing away until you give the word.
"Before we get started on all that, I know you mentioned you wanted a draping that was loose and flowy, but I was worried the fabric might snag on your jewelry." You explain. "So It's still a loose drape, but a little less than what I first showed you when we were picking out fabrics."
She lets out an impressed 'ooo' as you explain. "That's so smart; I can't wear my chunky bracelets with half my dresses. My lady, I defer to your judgment."
Letting out a laugh, you fluff out the skirt in preparation for its presentation. "Okay! Now, three, two—"
"—one!" Mor cuts off, spinning around to see the dress. Her hands fly up to her mouth as she bounces on her feet. "Yes, yes! Oh, Y/N, it's even better than I imagined."
Pride wells up in your chest as she moves closer to see the gown, but a wave of confusion washes over you as you sway slightly on your feet. She… liked the dress? No. No, she didn't like the dress. This isn’t what happened. Your head spins as you watch Mor fuss over the skirt, playing with the fabric to have the gemstones on the inner layers catch on the light like stars.
You ran out of that fabric. There wasn't enough left for a full skirt, so you had to go without it. You stumble backwards towards the wall, but nothing catches you. Panic grips your throat as you float weightlessly, and everything is drowned in black.
It's okay, a voice whispers in your mind. You're alright. I need to see what memories they locked away so I can figure out what they were looking for.
Memories… that was a memory? But that didn't happen. You try to close your eyes tightly against the darkness, but you feel nothing. Light floods your vision, and suddenly you're sitting on your couch alone.
"Hello?" You call, voice shaking. "Who's there?"
"I suppose an explanation is in order, now that you're here." The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere at once, until an unfamiliar faerie steps out of the shadows with his hands raised.
You stand unsteadily as he moves closer.
"My name is Rhysand, though you can just call me Rhys," he says.
"While I wish the circumstances were better, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N."
"Rhysand…" you mutter, feeling feint. "Azriel's brother?"
A fond expression crosses his face. "Not typically the first title that comes to mind for people, but I must admit it's refreshing."
The couch behind you seems to beckon you once more, and he has no objections when you sit back down. "What's going on?"
"I thought this might be easier to digest." A chair you certainly don't own appears on the other side of the coffee table for him to take a seat. "We're in your head right now. I can't say I've ever tried something like this, but I quite like it. Although I believe your mind may be doing most of the heavy lifting, so we don't have much time."
Holding your hands out, your flip them over as you curl your fingers. Everything has a bit of a smoky quality to it, like it would all disappear with a gust of wind, and feels the same sluggish consistency as your shadows.
"What… happened?" Quiet as your voice is, he seems to hear you perfectly well.
His gaze is pained when you look back up at him, eyebrows pinched as he tries to explain. "From what I can tell, someone has gotten access to your mind, and had been taking and altering your memories. I don't know for what purpose, so I've been trying to see what they've hidden to try and figure it out. Do you know when this may have started?"
The answer comes to you immediately, the incident having weighed on your mind since it happened. "I lost a few hours a little over a month ago. Azriel found me standing in the street."
Something passes over his face, and the moment of silence that follows has dread building in your gut.
"Az spoke to me about that night," he says softly, almost slowly. It reminds you of that moment with Mor, before everything in your head exploded. He opens his mouth to speak once more, but his attention is snapped elsewhere. Looking to the side, his expression twists with confusion and anger. "Someone's trying to break through my wards. I'll be back soon; let your mind rest, and we'll continue once you've regained your strength."
"Wait—" you lurch forward, reaching for him, but you continue falling forward as everything you see dissipates.
Your existence feels lighter and lighter, until you feel nothing at all.
——
Azriel feels the wards fighting him, digging under his skin as his shadows slip through cracks that aren’t there. He’s never tried to travel within the house like this, never had need to, but with his shadows guiding him to you he had no complaints.
His room explodes with darkness as he finally lands on his feet, the sound of an older woman screaming in shock filling his ears before they all congregated around his bed. Looking around frantically, he took stock of the occupants of the room.
Madja stood by his dresser, hastily straightening bottles of medicines and salves that had been knocked askew by his arrival. By his bed, stepping back from the writhing mass of darkness, was Rhys, with a displeased expression.
“What happened?” he asks before the High Lord can speak.
Rhys sighs, rubbing between his brows as they pinch together. “Was that you, bursting through my wards?”
“Rhys,” Azriel hisses.
“You were right,” Rhys says, leveling him with a look that urged him to try and stay calm. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you then, Az. But we can fix it, now.”
The ground seems to fall out from beneath his feet. Stumbling forward, the Spymaster catches himself on the foot of his bed, shadows curling up his arms.
“She’s had multiple memories locked away, and when Mor caught on…”
Azriel looks up at him, wanting him to finish but not wanting to hear the words.
“It was a Daemati.”
The breath leaves his lungs, and the illyrian curls in on himself at the jolt of pain that shoots through his chest. A steady hand grasps his shoulder, grounding him.
“She’s alright, now. I’ve shut them out of her head so they can’t do any further damage, but…” he trails off, as if it might ease the blow.
Azriel understands the implication loud and clear. “But they’ve already caused damage.” He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, taking deep breaths as Rhys sighs. The only sounds in the room are his breaths, the rustling of his sheets, and the near-silent clacking of Madja’s equipment. “How bad is it?”
Rhys’ hand twists on his shoulder as he moves to sit beside him on the bed. “She may have some residual issues with memory loss in the future. I didn’t get very far, but they’ve locked numerous memories away, most pertaining to interactions with you or Mor.”
The silence that follows is somehow more tense than the last, and when Azriel finally straightens back up to look at Rhys, the expression that greets him is pained.
“When I asked her when she began to have issues relating to her memory… she claimed that you found her standing in the street a little over a month ago.”
A month ago. Had you really been suffering for so long unnoticed that you’d lost so much time? Everything he’d just chalked up to stress about the customer influx, and you were missing three months worth of memories. What had they even left for you?
He turns to look over his shoulder at you, his shadows parting just enough for him to see you sleeping peacefully in his bed.
“I’m keeping her unconscious for now,” Rhys tells him. “It will give her mind time to rest and heal itself, so I don’t do more harm than good.” His hand squeezes his shoulder, turning his attention back to him. “With the depth and frequency of attack… they have to be somewhere in the city, Az. Somewhere close to her.”
His fists clench tightly in his sheets, a low-bubbling rage festering in his gut. “Someone in Velaris did this?”
“We opened our gates to Hewn city,” Mor calls from the doorway. The two turn to look at her, a heavy weight settling upon the room at her words. “We should start with any frequent visitors, see who spends a lot of time in her part of the Palace of Thread and Jewels.”
“The intel we’ve been getting,” Azriel says, voice raspy. “Almost a year of nothing.”
Rhys answers with a dawning dread. “Someone wanted you out of the city. Away from her.”
He shares a look with Mor as Azriel stands from his bed and storms out of his room, half of his shadows rushing after him.
——
Cassian is downstairs to meet him at the door. “Don—“
“Move, Cas,” he snarls, stopping in front of him.
“Think, Az. If you go tearing through the streets of Velaris—“ an attempt to shoulder past him is stopped with a hard shove, “—they’ll be in the wind before you can find them.”
The two have their stand-off, Azriel’s siphons beginning to burn as Mor makes it back downstairs, Rhys close behind.
“You’re needed here, Az.” She’s met with a glare, hazel eyes dark. “Don’t give me that. You know we need to narrow our search down so they don’t see us coming.”
Rhys steps forward with a subtle tilt of his head. Azriel’s gaze snaps towards him, brow cocking as he waits for a third iteration of the same argument. “Y/N needs you here, with her.”
Silence falls between them, a battle of wills crackling the air around them. Darkness creeps up his legs, his torso, curling around his neck to voice their deliberation.
Sweetheart, they say. Alone, hurt, with us, safe, sweetheart, safe.
He closes his eyes with a heavy, weary sigh, shoulders dropping and siphons fading. A heavy hand lands on his shoulder from behind.
“We’ll find the son of a bitch who did this,” Cassian promises. “And then they’re all yours.”
He opens his eyes for a moment, searching for deep blue. Rhys’ gaze meets his, darkening as he nods his confirmation.
“You’d do the same for me, brother,” he says. In a moment unshared with the others, the rest goes unspoken.
If it were Feyre lying there. If it were my mate instead.
----------
Here I am falling into my old dialogue-heavy traps! I was going to queue this for tomorrow but I got too excited lmao
TAGLIST (comment or message to be added/removed)
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takes1 · 24 hours
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bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers p.2
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warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. masterlist for mha. my ao3.
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Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.
You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.
Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.
"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.
Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.
She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."
Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.
The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.
It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.
The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.
With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.
Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.
Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.
As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.
The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.
The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.
You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.
Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.
Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.
You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.
He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.
Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.
Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.
You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.
He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.
He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.
His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.
There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.
A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.
That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.
On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.
It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.
"Do I look stupid?"
Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"
"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.
It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.
"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.
Another surge of chills. It was sickening.
You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."
Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.
Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.
Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.
the keen intuition in question:
Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.
"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."
His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.
It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.
This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.
An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.
Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.
Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.
His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.
All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.
Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.
It was just you.
It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.
If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.
He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."
His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.
An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.
Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.
His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.
You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.
It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.
"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.
His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.
The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.
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thanks for the support!!
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dragon-kazansky · 1 day
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Heart of the Dreaming
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Morpheus x Female Reader
Soulmate AU
You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Chapter Four - Pocket full of sand
☆☆☆
You had been locked away in that house for so long that you had no idea just how much the world had changed. You had never really been to London before, but you were sure even then it had been much different to the London you are in today.
You turn around to see Dream composing himself. He looked a little... tired, dare you say. He looks at you silently.
"You alright?" You ask.
He nods and then turns around. It's dark out, not many people around. He would know Constantine when he saw her. She had his sand.
You stand a good few steps away from him, holding yourself. You didn't bring a coat. You didn't exactly have time to bring anything. You were in a city you couldn't navigate, and your only companion was a strange man who had told you you were his soulmate.
It was a lot to take in one night.
"Constantine."
You turn around to see Dream looking at a woman in a long coat. She doesn't exactly hang about. The conversation is short as she directs his attention to a raven that has landed on the bench behind you. You find yourself confused at its sudden appearance. It seemed to be watching Dream.
"I do not need a raven."
You look at Dream, confused. The man was talking to a bird. Of all the crazy things you've seen so far in regards to this man, this was the craziest.
"Lucienne said you'd say that," the raven spoke.
You stare at the bird with wide eyes. "It's talking?"
"Uh, I'm Matthew," the raven replies.
"It's talking!"
Dream stands beside you and looks down at the raven. He doesn't act like he heard what you were saying. His attention was fully on the bird. "I do not need a raven," he repeats.
"Respectively, sir, you do." Matthew caws.
"Go back to the Dreaming."
"Look, she's got away!" Matthew exclaims, looking behind Dream.
Morpheus turns and finds Constantine has completely vanished from sight. She's made sure to put distance between them.
Dream turns to you. "Fine. You stay here with him. Don't move."
"What?" You look at him with slight panic. He can see it in your eyes.
"Just wait for me."
Dream walks off, and you scoff in disbelief. This man, who is supposedly your soulmate, has the audacity to "rescue" you from your family home and then abandon you in an unfamiliar city? The universe could have chosen someone with more dignity at least to tie you with.
You sit on the bench with a huff. Matthew cocks his head to the side, looking at you intently. You turn and glare at him, causing him to take a few steps away from you along the back of the bench.
"So, uh..." He snaps his beak gently, making a clicking sound, "who are you?"
"No one important," you sigh.
"That can't be true. Wait, are you the woman Lucienne mentioned? She said he had gone off to rescue someone."
"Does everyone know about this?" You ask.
"No? Not that I know of."
"I'm sorry, but how are you talking? You're a bird!" You look at him.
"I don't know. I just... am. I wasn't always a bird, mind you. I was like you once."
"Like me?"
"A human." He cocks his head again.
"Oh... What happened?"
"I, uh... I died."
"Oh... I'm sorry." You frown.
"It's fine. This is my life now." He ruffles his feathers a little. "So, uh... Are you just gonna sit here?"
☆☆☆!!!!!!!
Morpheus finds Constantine within her nightmare. He'd standing there when she woke. She states at him for a good few moments and then speaks. "For fuck's sake." She sighs. "How did you find me?"
"You were dreaming. But it wasn't only a dream, was it? It's a memory. No wonder you do not sleep."
"Maybe I don't deserve to."
"Perhaps not." He says to Constantine. "But I could make it go away."
"Only if I help you find your sand."
"Though finding anything in this place may require more magic than even you can muster."
Joanna falls silent for a moment and then gets up. "I'll look in the office. Try not to clean up while I'm gone."
"I'm coming with you," he says. "You have a gift for disappearing."
"All right. But if the mess in here offends you, wait till you see my office."
The office was so much worse.
Constantine started going through her things, hoping the pouch would pop up somewhere and she could get this over with. She didn't particularly want him hanging around.
"Why do humans love objects so much?" Dream asks.
"They do come in handy sometimes." Constantine tells him. "You seem pretty attached to your sand."
"It's not just an object. It's a part of me."
"If that's true, how'd you happen to lose it?" She asks, looking at him.
"It was stolen by a magic user called Burgess."
"Wait, not Rodrick Burgess? The old demon king himself, eh? Everyone used to say he was a fake. Said he had the Devil locked up in his basement. How the fuck did you..."
She looks up.
"Shit." She walks over to him. "Were you down there? All this time?"
His lack of response was in itself an answer.
Morpheus plucks a set of photos from a box and looks down at them. They picture Constantine and another woman in them.
"Is this you?" He asks.
"Why? Do I look that different?"
"No. Happy."
A moment of silence passes.
"Shit." Constantine whispers. "I know where your sand is."
☆☆☆
Dream had gone all the way to Rachel's apartment. He had first gone to Constantine's, assuming she had the sand there, but it became rather complicated quickly.
Turns out the sand was at her exes. An ex she hadn't seen in quite some time. He was ready to go inside with her, but she told him to wait outside.
She needed to do this alone, apparently. However, he was reluctant to let her out of his sight. She had a tendency to disappear.
While he waited outside, he turned to see you walking around the corner.
"I told you to wait," he scolded. Though you wouldn't say you felt overly threatened by him.
"We got bored."
"We?"
In that moment, Matthew flew down and landed by your feet. Dream was far from pleased. "I told you to wait for me."
"If we're soulmates or whatever, shouldn't I help?" You ask, looking at him just as unimpressed.
"No."
You scoff softly. "You're hard work, you know that?"
Dream says nothing as he stares at you, hands in his pockets. It's Matthew who breaks the awkward atmosphere between you both. He really doesn't know what's going on, and there was very little time to ask about it.
"You know you can't trust her, right? You should really go in there."
Dream shifts his eyes away from you. Matthew had a point.
"Wait here."
This time he was wanting you both. You cross your arms and watch him go inside. You stand there for a moment before slumping down onto the ground.
"That bad, huh?"
"I've known him less than a day, kind of. Well, I've known of him a while. It's complicated. Soulmates or whatever. I don't care about some stupid divine bond." You sigh.
"So, it's legit? The soulmate thing, I mean."
You lower your wrist to his level and show him the scar. "I got this the day I first set eys on him. Sometimes, it burns. Though it hasn't for a bit. It's what binds me to him, I think."
"Hm. So, why do I sense so much anger toward him?" Matthew caws.
"He's insufferable. We have this weird bond, and he has the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. He rescued me less than an hour ago, and now we're off on some strange quest to get... sand?"
"Well, yeah. Lucienne told me about that. He's getting his tools back," Matthew says.
"His tools?"
"His sand, his helmet, and his ruby."
"I'm so lost."
"How do I put this? Lord Morpheus is the dream lord. He is king and creator of the Dreaming, his realm. His tools include a pouch of sand, a helmet, and a ruby. Without them, he doesn't have much of anything."
You listen to Matthew speak. "I see."
"It's important he gets them back."
"I've gathered that much. I just... I don't see why I have to be part of any of this. Fine, I'm not going to grow old and die, but do I have to stay with him?"
"I don't think he's going to just let you go," Matthew caws.
"Why not? He doesn't need me."
Matthew goes quiet.
Constantine leaves the apartment and walks off, looking not so perky anymore. Not long after, Dream comes out and follows the direction she went in slowly.
You rise from the ground and watch them. He hadn't even glanced your way. Matthew goes on ahead to join the two. You keep your distance, watching them talk.
Constantine says something to Matthew, and then she looks up at you. She stares at you for a while and then turns and walks away under her umbrella.
Dream looks at the pouch in his hand and then looks up at you. "You're still here."
"You told me to wait."
"You could have run," he says flatly.
You glance at Matthew, who looks up at you. What he said earlier flashes before your mind. Dream probably wouldn't really let you go. "Yeah, well... whatever."
Dream stares at you in heavy silence. You hate it. You hate the way he looks at you. You hate the way he doesn't say anything. You can't say you're all too fond of him either.
"Stop looking at me."
Dream turns his eyes back to the pouch. "Come here."
You sighed and walked over to him, standing where Constantine had been standing just moments before.
"So, where are we going next?" You ask.
"Hell."
"Hell? Like metaphorical Hell or... Hell Hell?" Matthew caws.
Dream stares at you silently, and you swallow nervously. "Hey, I didn't agree to... that!"
"My helm is in Hell."
"I don't care. Hell? That's crazy." You yell at him quietly.
He just stares. He slowly raises his pouch and opens his other hands. He gives you time enough to walk away, but you don't. You know what he's doing. He pours the sand into his waiting palm, and it flows around the three of you in a blanket.
There really was no going back now.
☆☆☆
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theatricalmage · 2 days
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The brainrot took over and so here's a vat7k hadestown au!! Don't know if I'll develop it fully but I liked designing it at least!
More info under the cut:
- Varian, the Coronan royal alchemist, tasks himself with deciphering an incantation capable of bringing the world back into tune. Times are tough, and the royal family + Quirin are doing their best to cope with the meagre crop yields and desolate weather (Corona not really being the sunshine kingdom - hasn't been for a while). He wants to help and do good and I think he'd be a good Orpheus.
- Hugo, having moved about from place to place, still has his interest in alchemy and does what he can to get by. He plans on temporarily staying in Corona before looting, but he encounters a certain like-minded scientist at the Snuggly Duckling. I think him being selfish works especially well in Eurydice's role, having a more pessimistic view of the world. It also works with how he gets drawn to Donella's offer of working for her later on, leading him to his death.
- Ulla as Persephone! I was initially stuck on whether to have Rapunzel (and either Eugene/Cass) as her (and Hades) but I was drawn to the connection that Hugo has to Donella and the Donella/Ulla relationship in vat7k just works too well. In this case, Ulla won't be Varian's mother. She's still gonna be somewhat of an inspiration to him though, being the previous Coronan royal alchemist and for her intelligence. For half the year, she'll return to Corona with food, drinks, and alchemical compounds/inventions, bringing Spring and Summer to the world, if only for a bit.
- Donella would be such an interesting Hades, losing sight of her love for Ulla, heart filled with fear and hurt, leading to bitterness and cruelty. Ingvarr being Hadestown and how by being the esteemed Ingvarrian engineer, she'd be in charge of major technological advances across the kingdoms and so would wield a significant amount of power (like how Hades is literally the ruler of the underworld). Ingvarr essentially being a near death sentence for its workers while also displaying its technological prowess, all still shrouded in mystery and corruption - a place so otherworldly compared to the rest of the kingdoms.
I didn't want to modify the outfits too much nor the personalities,, if anything I imagine the general plot beats being the same as the original musical/story but with slight differences that'd you get inherently as a result of these characters. I wouldn't want it to be the case where it's just the show but the names are changed. I'd want this to still make reasonable sense in this AU, with the actions being understandable for this particular cast of characters.
For Hermes, I ended up picking Xavier, as he's most knowledgeable of old legends and stories, which would work in reference to the Hades and Persephone myth (and so Donella and Ulla)! He'd act as a mentor figure for V, someone who can guide him in uncovering the forgotten incantation. Quirin would still be the good supportive dad he is (even if he doesn't fully understand his son's project).
Last but not least, the fates!! often lurking in the background, I'm still a bit stuck on who it could be? I'm tempted to have it be Raps, Cass, and Nuru as they've had celestial connections at some point (and ya know how stars can represent fate), but I also love the freckled siblings dynamic so much. Also Team Radical... Maybe Raps and Cass can be their normal selves but their Sundrop/Moonstone counterparts are the manifested physical forms of the fates? They wouldn't be visible to the characters though, just voices in the wind.
Anyways yeah!! Those are my thoughts. Do let me know if you've got any cool ideas or questions. I'm really combining my interests at full force and there's nothing anyone, not even myself, can do about it quite frankly. 😮‍💨
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aftgficrec · 2 days
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Anonymous said: Hi! Thank you so much for your work. I'm looking for long finished fics, it can be canon or not AND I'm also looking for fics focused on Kevin and Neil friendship
From Ravens angst to food wars there’s a lot of Kevin and Neil here for you to enjoy. Readers, find the long complete fics portion of this ask here. -A
previous recs
Kevin & Neil here
Kevin & Neil friendship here
BFFs Neil & Kevin, physically affectionate here
Neil & Kevin as bffs/brothers + Kev/Neil here 
‘To All my friends’ here
‘on thin ice’ here
‘Exit Wound’ here 
‘Necessary Losses,’ ‘Remember! Proplifting is Shoplifting!,’ and ‘CVS’ (completed) here
‘don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious’ here
‘I have a Prom-Posal’ here (updated)
‘The Manga is Way Better (Save me from the Fangirls)’ here
‘Homecoming King’ here 
‘The One Where Everyone Finds Out’ here
‘How to outrun the mafia, an essay by Neil Josten’ here
‘my friends and I, we got a lot of problems’ and ‘please, carry me, carry me, carry me home’ here
‘I can see the stars though the tears in my skin’ here
‘Odd Eye’ here
‘Carrots’ here
‘You Can't Take the Sky from Me’ here 
‘Something Crazy About It’ and ‘The one where Andriel get Cats’ here
‘Dear Advice Guy,’ ‘a little bit special,’ and ‘quicksand’ here
‘Slow Parade’ and ‘Bad Habits’ here
‘Technique is Important’ here
‘venus as a boy’ here (completed)
‘Light a Match’ and ‘stupid, normal teenagers’ here
‘"There's blood on my/your hands."’ here
‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here
‘Two worlds collide’ and ‘Fear & Loathing’ here
‘Father’s Day, ‘08’ here
‘Point Nemo’ here
‘Extra thermador on the side’ ch 14 & 15 here
‘Gimme a Kiss and I'll Kiss You Right Back’ here
‘North Star’ and ‘it's my first and perhaps last time (aka the Exy World Cup Fic)’ here
‘my one, my dear’ here
‘I’m too young to feel numb…’ here
‘The Sickness Was Forever,’ ‘Whatever it takes,’ and ‘It's Just You and Me, Just Us, and Y(our) Friend Kevin’ here 
‘Different Roads’ and ‘I Was Ruined From The Start’ here
‘Spun Sugar Truths’ here
‘But man, I can hate you sometimes’ here
‘Remember Me, Love, When I'm Reborn…’ and ‘The Suit Universe’ series (updated) here
‘Through our memories, we live’ here (completed)
‘Die Free or Die a Failure’ here (completed)
‘A Falling Star’ series here
you may also like
andreil & Kevin here
more kevineil here
Andrew & Kevin here
to whom it may aggravate by knoxout [Rated G, 1931 Words, Complete, 2022]
to: [email protected] from: [email protected] ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID????? Kindest regards, Kevin Day
Strike That (from the record) by Mercey [Rated M, 1393 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin and Neil decide to read fanfiction about themselves on their podcast. Shenanigans ensue.
Medicated rabbits don't run as fast by AllTheSpadesAndAces [Not Rated, 8690 Words, Incomplete, Updated Nov 2023]
Neil Josten has his mother to thank for an addiction to painkillers, but he won't speak (that) ill of the dead. He's stayed on the run after her death. He never hits the same AA or NA meeting more than once. Usually only going once in every city he passes though. Maybe he should have remembered not to stray too close to Raven territory. After all, he knows what that place can drive people to do. OR Neil meets Kevin at an AA meeting.
tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism
Your eyes can’t fool me by maia_m03 [Rate G, 3533 Words, Complete, 2022]
There’s something familiar about this kid and Kevin can’t quite place it. Until he does. (A ‘Kevin recognises Neil at Millport’ AU)
neil josten vs vegetables (aka kevin) by orangejuice9 [Rated T, 3138 Words, Complete, 2023]
Three times Kevin tries to put vegetables in Neil's food, and one time Neil gets his revenge.
this is [home], this is hell by straycrow [Rated M, 1402 Words, Complete, 2022]
The day Kevin left the Nest and Neil behind.
tw: violence, tw: abuse
What the fuck did I do in the end? (Just to not be yours) by allfortheBoyds [Rated M, 2305 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]
Kevin goes back to the nest so that Neil can run
no rest for the mischievous by tropicalblend [Rated G, 1681 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin forgets an essential piece of Neil's food order so Neil must enact revenge, he must.
frying pans by aknosde [Rated G, 1078 Words, Complete, 2023]
When Kevin trudges down the stairs and into the kitchen Saturday morning it's to the smell of frying sausage and a headache the likes of which he hasn’t seen in years. The fact that the former makes him want to throw up considerably more than the latter lets him know what kind of day it’s going to be. (Or: Neil cooks Kevin breakfast)
tw: implied disordered eating
i want to hold your hand by gay_irl [Rated T, 3481 Words, Complete, 2023]
Neil starts to notice that Andrew occasionally exchanges casual touches with Kevin. He feels something about it but he's not sure what. He talks to Andrew and starts to realize the value of non-sexual intimacy. He decides to try it out.
tw: implied/referenced child abuse
why am I like this? by chronically_peach [Rated G, 1744 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin doesn’t believe in loneliness. He doesn’t believe in friendship or the need for people around. He spent his entire life never being alone but never having a friend. Loneliness didn’t affect Kevin. Or so he thought. One night Kevin breaks down during late night practice while alone at the court. When he doesn’t come home Andrew and Neil go looking for him
In the Blooms by KaijuusAndKryptids [Rated G, 1273 Words, Complete, Aftg Spring Exchange 2022, Locked]
Kevin works on sobriety, and needs something to fill the time to distract him from needing a drink. He falls into gardening incidentally, but more and more often he finds that he wants to garden for gardening's sake and not to complete another objective.
Proof of Life by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2132 Words, Complete, 2022]
Realistically, Kevin knows he is safe now. No one is after him anymore. No one is plotting to drag him down into the hole he's clawed out of. He has people who will fight to keep it this way.
Kevin? Aaron? Together? My life can't get any worse than this by Artificiosus [Rated T, 2129 Words, Complete, 2022]
He takes a deep breath in. "Where?" "Where what- oh," Kevin replies. "Where?" Neil repeats, his heart rate is speeding up, he feels frozen to the spot. Dread? Fear? Whatever it is, it's locked him down. Kevin gulps.  ~~~~~ Kevin tells Neil that he and Aaron slept together.
Hey Look Neil, You Made It! by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 2224 Words, Complete, 2022]
7 years after Kevin agreed to teach Neil how to play Exy, Kevin shows up on Neil's doorstep with a long overdue gift.
Sticking with our Losers by Webaqoof [Rated T, 1647 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]
Kevin dragged his ass from the front porch steps where he was laying down, ready to enter the house. He furrowed his eyebrows to find it still closed, because he clearly heard Neil ringing the doorbell. “Why is the door not open?” Neil brought his hand to his chin in a thinking posture. Which was funny because he never really thought anything. “I think it’s because one of the people in the house doesn’t like me much.”
Could Have Been Me by thornilee013 [Rated T, 1843 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]
Kevin finally voices a question that's been bothering him.
i should hate you, i feel stupid. by hynjinnnniee [Rated T, 3391 Words, Complete, 2024]
kevin experiences some complicated feelings after riko dies, and the monsters help him through it.
Naked-Fruit Chiffon Cake, one box by riri_a [Rated T, 2579 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin Day was having a very boring morning. Some might say his life was boring in general. Everything changes when a homeless guy with blue eyes decides to rob his workplace. Kevin thinks he's incompetent.
Tell Me the Truth by birthdaycandles774 [Rated T, 1948 Words, Complete, 2023]
The Foxes were staying at the winter banquet for both days, how boring. Andrew had gone to get ice for his drunk brother and cousin when he noticed two Ravens. So far from their nest, strange. He never expected to make a deal with the unannounced member of the 'Perfect Court' who only wanted him to protect Kevin Day. He definitely didn't expect to want the mysterious Raven to stay. The one where Neil was caught by the Moriyamas and is the one to get Kevin out of the Nest.
Kevin Day is keeping Celeste series by Twolipsliterature [Rated G/T, Collection, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023]
Part 1: What never belonged to angels, Had never belonged to men [T, 1837 Words, Complete] Neil, Andrew, and Kevin are in Columbia for the summer following Riko's death. Needless to say, Kevin is not handling it well. When a breakup leads to a breakdown, Neil and Andrew must learn what it is to be a friend and how to help peice someone back together instead of being the one to break them apart
tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism
Part 2: If I let you perceive me, do you promise to love me? [T, 11037 Words, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023] The last thing Kevin expected to do after a messy breakup was immediately fall for someone. Yet, here he is, smitten and cursing himself for it. With more baggage and trauma than he can hide under his bed, Kevin is hesitant to open up to someone. How can anyone get to know him when he barely knows himself? Lucky for him, Celeste is very good at piecing things together. OR: Despite his best efforts, Kevin falls in love.
Part 3: A Lesson In Loving You, A Lesson In Being Loved [G, 4966 Words, Complete]
After months of sneaking around, Neil decides its high time Kevin introduce the foxes to his not-so-secret girlfriend. When it finally happens, he can't shake the feeling that there's something more to her that Kevin is missing...
A Collection of my varying AFTG short stories… by BasiliskCrane [Rated M, Collection, Updated July 2021]
Chapter 6: "your an idiot... " (G, 438 Words)
You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by vinesse [Collection, Rated T, Complete, 2019]
Chapter 31: Scared, Me? (466 Words)
A Series of H/C One-Shots For All For The Game by carefulren [Rated T, Collection, Updated 2018]
Chapter 1: Neil Downplays How Sick He's Feeling, and the Foxes Step In Chapter 4: sick and problematic kevin trying to keep the team away from him, but the team ignores him
Art
kevneil arguing dynamic comic by @wuzeio
quality bonding time animation by @broresteia
weekly call comic by @bleepbloops
tramp stamps instead of face tattoos art by @koihoi
AU where Kevin meets Neil on the run art by @lucky-slice
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rainee-da · 2 days
Text
You Rest Your Head On His Lap - 🪞/ 🎪 / 🍮 / 🍾 / 💧 / 💎
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Work has been abusing wearing me out and I didn't have too much time to open social media lately so this one will be shorter than the previous one. Honestly can I just be reincarnated as a seal? please please please please-
Make sure to brush your teeth, hope you enjoy! 🍀
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CHARACTER ❥ Doom / Famin / Epidem / Delisaster / Domina Blowelive / Cell War GENRE ❥ Fluff w/ slight Angst for Domina, maybe PG13? WARNING ❥ Spoilers!!!! and maybe might be a bit OOC, depending on how you interpreted the character.
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D O O M 🪞
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It was later in the afternoon. He just finished his training and was resting up on the nearby bench at the training grounds before you came and suddenly plopped down on his lap.
His whole body tensed up slightly at the sudden contact before relaxing back as he realized that it was just you.
"Tired, my dear? has your day been rough?" he said with a soothing voice as he ran his hand on your hair, a soft smile forming on his lips.
He learned his whole life to predict other people's movements using all his senses, but you never failed to surprise him with your antics.
And it never fails to lighten his day, to bring sunshine to his world that is devoid of pictures.
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with each other, with his hand brushing through your locks idly.
As you talk about your day, he listened quietly. Take note of your shift in tone and the quiet thumping of your heart.
He didn't mind doing this for eternity, with you.
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F A M I N 🎪
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He was in a bad mood as he sulked on the sofa, teeth gritting and eyes twitching. One more flick to his nerves and his place is going to be a bloodbath.
Knowing so, his aides understandably decided to keep their distance.
Not you tho, because you were somehow brave enough to stride to his place with a book in hand and plopped your head on his lap.
"... What do you think you're doing?" he said with a strained voice, punctuating every word. You simply answered him with a shrug as you started reading your book.
His aide is looking from the distance, mortified. One of them is making preparations for a quick mass funeral, just in case.
They instantly passed out in fear as their boss started to move, thinking the massacre was going to happen. They missed the fact that Famin had actually moved to hug you, not to massacre you. Or anybody.
His rage already evaporated into thin air, seeing you on his lap.
Get ready to be in his lap for hours lol. He won't let you go now.
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E P I D E M 🍮
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"... And the texture is all wrong! It's a blasphemy I assure you. Pudding is supposed to be a soft, silky cuisine and the shop can't even differentiate that with a freakin jelly! Honestly-"
You lay on his lap as you listen to him go on his tangent. Your hand slowly caresses his thighs to soothe him down.
Being his lover, you're used to this kind of temper tantrum it could be worse after all.
In fact, you prefer this to his scientific tangent. You can barely understand the other one after all.
But since he has been going on for more than an hour, you're understandably getting tired and you can feel yourself getting sleepy as your eyes fluttering and closing.
Noticing that you no longer saying anything, he stopped and looked down to check your face.
His face softens, seeing you sleeping on his lap. His body finally eases down and he caresses your cheek gently. His mind is in a state of tranquility.
Though you’re gonna wake up with a bite mark on your cheek lol. It’s just that soft after all.
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D E L I S A S T E R 🍾
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Everything about it is embarrassing. You're embarrassed, his aide pities you, and his family gives you a strange look, the only one who is not embarrassed is Delisaster.
How could you not be? It's a big, fancy banquet being held by Innocent Zero with so many nobles present. And here you are; laying on one of his son's lap.
And you can't escape either, because his hand is gripping your side tightly while his other hand is sipping some red wine, ready to tickle the hell out of you if you made any attempt to escape.
Too bad he's big into PDA too. More than once did he lowered his head to peck your nose or make out with your lips. In front of everyone.
"Do you want some?" He offers you casually as if it didn't hit him yet that he's being cringy as hell, and he's embarrassing you.
He lets out a hearty laugh every time you pout and whine about being embarrassed, clearly finding it to be amusing.
"Why so shy? you're my bae! N' best bet I'll show it to everyone! Gotta show them to whom you belong, after all~"
Rest in peace, you poor soul...
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D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧
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It's nearing curfew time. You opened the door of his dorm slowly, making the light from outside permeate through the dark room.
You can see the hunched shadow on the bed jolted in surprise and the light from outside highlighting his face shadow.
"Go away," Domina stated coldly as he lowered his head, and you managed to catch a glimpse of the tear stain on his cheeks.
You didn't say anything. But knowing him, you decided to go against his words and walked to his figure before locking the door.
You startled him as you plopped your head on his lap, burying your face in his stomach while your hand rubbed his lower back gently.
This simple action successfully breaking the dam in the pink-haired man's eye as he started sobbing his heart out.
He started blabbering out his thoughts while his shaky hands hugged your head tightly, sharing the insecurities and the fear he held inside that had been tormenting his soul.
"Please don't go..." he said with a broken voice, as he caressed your face, "I love you... You're all I have... please, promise me to never leave me... Please..."
Both of you ended up sleeping while cuddling together, content smile formed on his sleeping face.
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C E L L W A R 💎
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"Stop it, I have to go," he whines, trying his best to push you, who is currently nuzzling your face on his stomach, off of his lap, "I have to meet Master, he'll be furious if I'm late!"
You quipped to him that the appointed meeting is still an hour ahead, and he groans in frustration, unable to refute your words.
He knows that the meeting is still an hour away, and it only took him a quarter of an hour to reach the location. Meaning that he had plenty of hours for himself. 
But he just can't help to work hard. He wants to please his Master!
"You're such a brat..." he grumbled as his hand moved to pull off the thorn crown on his head, and he leaned back to relax on the bed.
Your sheepish smiles earned you a soft chuckle from him. He stares at you with eyes full of meaning as his hand strokes your hair gently.
He wants you to find someone better, but he can't think of a life without you by his side. For him, you're his oasis. Anything you did seems to bring his dead heart back to life.
'I guess it's okay to relax once in a while... for you.'
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I also wrote another prompt for all of them previously, which the latest one being this one. If you happen to like this one, you might also like the other one! Maybe, I mean, I dunno...
Anyway, thank you for reading! 🍀
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