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#well yes but it matters to my ability to write it
basingstokemercury · 8 months
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Writing hell unlocked: I have the perfect concept for a line but just can't hit on a phrasing that flows properly
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It is unfortunately so disappointing to me to find out that people cannot tell stories. I mean, I honestly kind of have this assumption that everyone can tell a story - something that happened to them, at least, if not something they make up or whatever - and it is so unsettling every time for me to discover that there are actually people who cannot tell a story [well].
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feyburner · 17 days
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In ur version, does Batman or Superman even approve of Kon and Tim being together?
Lol sorry I’m sure you intended this as an art prompt but instead I used it as a silly little writing exercise.
Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »
Hi! Do you have a moment to chat?
« Bruce Wayne
That depends.
Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »
On what?
« Bruce Wayne
On the subject matter, Clark Kent, Daily Planet Reporter.
Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »
Shoot. hang on
Superman (Justice League) »
Hi! Do you have a moment to chat?
« B
How many times a day does that happen
Just tell me. I can take it
Superman (Justice League) »
Not… that many…
« B
How many records are we scrubbing.
This week.
Superman (Justice League) »
Listen
You are the one who chose to make secret phones that are identical to normal phones
I don’t know what you were expecting
« B
It’s precautionary. In case they get lost.
They’re not identical. The Batcell’s haptic interface hardware is superior to the iPhone’s.
Slightly bigger too.
0.3mm.
Superman (Justice League) »
I’ll refrain from the obvious comment
But know I am thinking it
« B
So there’s a visual difference.
You have x-ray vision.
Superman (Justice League) »
If you think I’m going to x-ray my phone to figure out if the haptic interface software is 0.3mm larger than an iPhones every single time I need to send a text you are nuts
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That’s you
« B
Learning memes are we.
Superman (Justice League) »
That’s not a meme. It’s a reaction image
I think
« B
Doesn’t a reaction image have to be sent in reaction to something? By definition?
Superman (Justice League) »
I dont know.
« B
I don’t either.
Superman (Justice League) »
Okay.
« B
You said you wanted to chat?
Superman (Justice League) »
Yes
And let me just preface this with:
I am about to tell you something and I need you to be, with all due respect, so normal about it
« B
Jesus fucking Christ, what happened?
Superman (Justice League) »
Nothing!! bad
Nothing bad
« B
Where are you? Can you call?
Superman (Justice League) »
Ok calm down, I’m fine, everything is fine
I can theoretically call but I think this is the kind of thing you’re going to want to sit with, on your own, for a second
Maybe 30 full seconds actually. Maybe sit for 30 full seconds before taking any action
« B
Kal El, I am catastrophizing at the speed of sound.
Superman (Justice League) »
Then I bet it will be such a huge relief to learn that all Im going to say is I have it on good authority that Superboy has something to tell you, and normally I would never breach his trust like this, but again: I cannot emphasize enough that I need you to be so, so normal. When he tells you. Which I have reason to believe he will, imminently
« B
Alfred has just informed me that Superboy is on the doorstep.
On the doorstep, Kal.
Of my home.
Superman (Justice League) »
Huh!
« B
He’s asked to speak with me in the parlor.
“In the parlor.” Quote.
I forgot we had one of those.
What is this.
Superman (Justice League) »
Well
I think there’s a chance Kon is about to be very, very brave, to your face
And—keep in mind I’m saying this as someone who thinks the world of you and has boundless trust and faith in your ability to be kind, selfless, and accepting—
If he doesnt leave that house with a smile on his face and a spring in his step I will ruin your life.
« B
Jesus.
I know you’re only threatening me because of that, thing I said. Last time.
And yet, it’s still effective.
Superman (Justice League) »
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« B
Yeah.
Superman (Justice League) »
Yeah?
« B
Yeah.
Superman (Justice League) »
:)
« B
:)
I have to go meet your kid. “In the parlor”
Superman (Justice League) »
Be nice :)
« B
I will.
I know what he’s going to say anyway.
Superman (Justice League) »
Oh?
« B
He, and coincidentally also Robin, needs to work on his situational awareness.
With an emphasis on remembering to scan the environment for CCTV cameras.
Superman (Justice League) »
Ok to be fair there are a lot of cameras these days
« B
The incident in question took place on the rooftop of Wayne Tower.
Superman (Justice League) »
I see.
« B
Yeah.
Superman (Justice League) »
Yeah.
Unrelatedly are you coming over later?
« B
So you can ruin my life?
Yes.
Superman (Justice League) »
See you then :)
« B
Yes.
Wait.
It’s not weird now that…?
Superman (Justice League) »
Holidays may get awkward but I’m sure we will all cope.
« B
Okay.
:)
Superman (Justice League) »
Tell Kon I said hi!
« B
I will.
*
« B
Hey it’s Batman. I fucked up.
Superman (Justice League) »
What??
« B
Not with Kon’s thing. That went fine. But we kept talking and I mayh ave let something slip and I’d liek to apologize in advance bc I htink he’s on the way
Superman (Justice League) »
Kons at my window???
« B
Sorry.
Superman (Justice League) »
I will ruin your life!!!!!
« B
Nuts.
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iceunhie · 5 months
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JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...
ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney
warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world
mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol
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al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.
it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.
most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.
he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.
“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”
though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.
(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)
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for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.
he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.
it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?
he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’
“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”
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another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.
but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.
you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.
“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”
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oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.
in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.
this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….
in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.
“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”
he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.
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@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game
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this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts
Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.
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So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.
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Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).
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Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).
And some additional things:
Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.
Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.
They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.
Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.
Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.
Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.
They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.
Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other
If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic
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whispersoftheton · 1 year
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Hello!
Do you think you could write an anthony x reader angst turned fluff/smut fic?
They’ve married out of duty but both have feelings for each other they refuse to admit
Hi! This is also my first fic for this fandom and I got kind of carried away with it, hope you don't mind :) Thank you for requesting btw <3
dont worry the next request i post will have smut in it and im posting that one this weekend >:)
Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader
Warnings: reader and Anthony are married, pining, death of parents (reader), angst, kissing, fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.4K
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The day dawned crisp and clear, sunlight peering through the flowing curtains and illuminating your path along the long hallway of your lavish home. The sounds of maids bustling through the estate and the gravel crackling beneath the horse's hoofs from outside filled your ears. Your mind raced with the many tasks at hand for today as you straightened out your dress. The last ball of the season was a significant one indeed, and you had the honor of hosting it tonight. The last few days were filled with overseeing that every detail of the evening, no matter how small, was managed and executed perfectly. 
As the maids fetched accessories and floral arrangements for you to approve ahead of the festivities, you pondered how your life had drastically changed. A mere three months had passed since your wedding day. Still, it seemed a lifetime ago. You had every reason to be happy, you had married well, living more than comfortably, and your husband was not unkind towards you like others you've heard about. But your marriage to the viscount wasn't exactly the love story of the century, to say the least. 
After the passing of both your parents, Lady Danbury had taken you in as one of her own. Raised you to be a lady of society in every way she saw fit and even sponsored your coming out last season. The very same season, the Queen appointed you as her diamond. Not long after, none other than Anthony Bridgerton set his sights on you, surpassing any honorable suitor that even thought about appearing at your doorstep. The entire courtship, along with the proposal, felt purely transactional. Anthony berated you with questions, encounters feeling more like interviews than any courting you were used to. It was not as if you were not attracted to the man if you were being entirely honest with yourself; you'd spent the better half of your time bottling up whatever it is that blossoms in your chest when he is near. And you hated yourself for it. For feeling something you couldn't even name for a man who treated as nothing more than an object. Every public outing where he was caring towards you, even kind and every bit of charming you could ever hope for, raised your hopes high only to see them crashing down at the indifference towards you the moment you were alone without the peering eyes of the ton on you.
Your wedding and honeymoon came and went in a blur. Not even able to consummate the marriage properly due to an argument that left you both enraged and unable to look each other in the eye in the days that followed. The following months were a string of simple greetings in passing and only speaking to one another when absolutely necessary. The empty house you now lived in was becoming your own personal void without so much as the company of your supposed husband.
"Viscountess Bridgerton, are you alright?" Your maid questioned as you snapped out of your haze and directed your attention back to the bouquets before you.
"Yes, this one will be lovely for tonight, thank you." You made your final decision as Anthony strolled into the room. Your maids quickly making themselves sparse, leaving the two of you alone.
"My family should be arriving any second; I assume everything for tonight is in order, is it not?" The underlying sarcasm and questioning of your ability as the lady of the house crawled right under your skin, any lingering feelings you had been contemplating only a moment ago for the Viscount gone in an instant at his distasteful manner.
"Yes, Lord Bridgerton." You replied dryly.
"Dear, we are married and have been for some time now. I would very much like it if I did not have to tell you to address me by my first name while we are in our home." You audibly scoffed at his command while standing from your seat.
"And I would very much like it if my husband would not treat me as though I do not exist." You snapped. Anthony's jaw clenched as he tensed before you. "Seems like neither of us shall get what we want. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have some preparations still pending for tonight. I am sure you can see your family to their rooms for now." 
"Now, you will not even greet my family. Do you have a distaste for them as well?"
"Never. I adore your mama and siblings as if they were my own." Anthony searched for any sign of deceit but instead found honest eyes staring back at him, making his heart ache. "If anything, I am grateful. Alas, there shall be a Bridgerton in this home I do not dislike." 
Your thoughts betrayed you abruptly exited the room and returned to your bed chambers to prepare for the evening, shutting the door and leaning against it in an attempt to steady yourself. Damn him. His scent blurred your thoughts and inhibited every one of your senses as you attempted to concentrate on the anger portrayed in his words. Instead, your mind wandered to how his white shirt hugged every curve of his chest, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. It was alluring in the most intoxicating way. You knew you had to compose yourself before the night began; the last thing you needed was to be distraught at your own ball.
------------------------
You stepped into the ballroom in your new dress gown the modiste had spent a significant amount of time making especially for this occasion. The staircase was beautifully adorned with white roses and touches of lilacs cascading down onto the main area. Candelabras and other flourishing arrangements were stationed around the refreshment tables your guests gathered at, and the thrumming rhythm of classical music whispered into your ears as you took notice of everyone enjoying themselves before greeting them. 
Unbeknownst to you, Anthony stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, observing how you conducted yourself gracefully amongst the guests—making light conversations while extending your kindness to everyone. He marveled at your ability to make each person feel as though they had your undivided attention; although he would never admit it, he found himself yearning for that same attention from you.
Early on, Anthony knew you fit all the requirements he had given himself for a wife. Someone honorable and suitable enough to hold the role of his Viscountess. It was precisely why he had chosen you, but that wasn't the only motive. You were the only lady's company outside his sisters; he did not particularly hate. Every potential partner he sought that season out had come up empty, whether it had been on the conversation or any other unfulfilling matter they discussed. You were different. You carried a conversation like no other, educated in far more areas than he could've hoped for, but none of that quite captured his heart in an unsuspecting manner like your character. You were kind and compassionate in a way he admired; you challenged him in ways that irritated him to no end, yet he found himself entirely enraptured by you. This is precisely why he had no choice other than shut you out completely. Anthony knew letting you get too close would be going against everything he wanted for himself. He couldn't let himself love another or have another love him; with love came loss. That he knew for certain.
"All seems good with the two of you, I see." Daphne smiled while moving to stand by Anthony as she spoke, breaking his train of thought.
"Good? I do not follow, dear sister." Anthony cleared his throat.
"Yes, good. With the way you were just openly admiring your wife, I assume it is only because the two of you have finally gotten over yourselves and admitted whatever it is you feel for one another." Anthony practically rolled his eyes at his younger sister, beginning to regret ever being forthcoming with her about the circumstances of his marriage early on. "Oh, do not tell me you are still playing this game? At this stage of marriage? Anthony-" She began scolding him, but he interrupted and led her to a more private area of the ballroom. 
"There is no game. We married because it was our duty to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. You will have to accept that, Daphne." Anthony's voice grew stern as he furrowed his brows at his sister.
"And I do. What I will not accept is the way your love for each other goes unspoken when it is clear to everyone around you." She spoke her following words in a hushed tone as to keep anyone who may be standing near from listening to them. "There is no doubt you hold love in your heart for her, brother. But if you do not tell her soon, I fear you will lose her and your only chance at happiness forever." With that, Daphne offered him a soft smile before walking towards Simon, who busied himself greeting Lady Danbury and her mama.
The night went on better than you could've hoped for. The dances and mingling were without a flaw, and even Lady Bridgerton and the Dutchess were quick to praise you on how well everything had turned out. Soon the guests started to filter out, making their way home after a long night of celebration. You strolled over to your husband after bidding goodbye to her majesty the Queen and ensuring everything had been to her liking. Anthony couldn't help but take notice of how stunning you looked tonight. How your dress fell perfectly over your figure, gems scattered throughout to match his mother's necklace laid in the most alluring way on the supple skin of your neck and chest. He was entranced in a way he'd never been before. Perhaps Daphne had been right. There's a sentence he never thought he'd utter, he thought to himself. Perhaps he had let his fears control him for far too long.
You had barely noticed your ring slipping from your fingers to fall at Anthony's feet as you approached him. Both of you leaned down to reach for it in unison, fingers ghosting over one another, making your breath catch and your eyes meet as he placed it upon your finger once again. The intimacy of such a small moment becoming too much to bear far too quickly.
"I must go." You could not bear to withstand one more moment under Anthony's intense glare, the part of you that wanted to finally divulge all the feelings you'd fought so hard to suppress after all this time threatening to break through at any given moment. You suddenly stepped back, picked up your dress the best you could, and walked hastily to avoid attracting unwanted attention from lingering guests. As you paced through the gardens, an overwhelming and uncertain feeling washed over you before you overheard Anthony's steps behind you.
"Why? Why is it that you distance yourself from me?" Anthony shouted in a hushed tone toward you. 
"Me? I am not the one stuffed in my office all day, coming to bed at late hours of the night when I am asleep and gone once I wake. Avoiding me day in and day out as if I am a plague to you." Tears welled in your eyes, making Anthony's breath hitch. He could not stand to see you like this. Every nerve in his body burned to fix whatever was troubling you, even if he was the one who caused it. Every feeling he had worked so hard to bury all this time, convincing himself he did not love you, could not love you, surfacing with every word that escaped your lips. "You treat me as though you do not care for me." Your voice was just low enough for him to hear, eyes cast downward, unable to give him so much as a glance through his silence. 
"Do not care for you? It is as if I am being consumed when I am with you. I cannot hold a breath or do the most ordinary task without you racing across my every thought. I feel as though I am losing my sanity because I cannot bear to be without you for one second. And when you are near me, it is positively intoxicating in ways I did not know to be possible." Anthony stepped cautiously toward you, fingers ghosting over your cheek, eyes dancing along your features with adoration filling them. "I love you. I love you as much as a person can love another. I do not wish to hold it inside anymore. I love you."
"I love you too." A sob wracked your chest as you responded without hesitation. The reflection in your eyes conveyed the devotion and tenderness he yearned for. It was as if you indeed saw the pieces of him but only sought to love him as he was, incomplete and perfect in every way in your eyes. As your husband.
Your heartbeat quickened as Anthony stepped close enough so that your noses practically brushed against one another—a familiar desire spreading from your heart to your chest.
Anthony cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Chills spread along your skin at the warmth of his touch. Unbridled affection flowed freely and filled the space between you. Your lips met for what felt like the first time; his other hand settled at your waist, prompting you closer to him and deepening the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency. It was as if nothing else mattered, the past becoming more of a distant memory the further you melted into him. There was only this moment. Anthony unwillingly pulled away, leaving your foreheads pressed against one another, his hair slightly disheveled from your fingers running through it, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed. A deep sigh escaped him before he spoke.
"I would marry you again if I could. Do it all over from the very beginning." His voice slightly wavered at the sentiment; it suddenly weighed on him how much he truly meant it. He wished nothing more than to turn back time and love you the way you deserve from the very beginning. Things would have been so different.
"Anthony, you do not need to embellish. We already married." A chuckle escaped you, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "What?"
"You called me Anthony." 
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I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission
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Note
Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?
How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)
Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)
But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)
Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)
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Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:
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Grim 
“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”
“...yeah?”
“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”
“Oh….okay!”
He’s the perfect chaotic companion
He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want
Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing
No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission
Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun
And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way
“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”
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Ace Trappola
“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”
“Ace?!”
“I-i-i won’t!”
In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart
You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often
He reminds you of a certain blonde…
It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you
“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”
“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”
“Ace, please!” 
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Deuce Spade
“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”
Mother hen of the group
He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him
Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be
He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself
Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose
Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you
He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself
Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state
He’s trying his best
“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”
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Jack Howl
“Hello little one.”
“Hi.”
“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”
“Yes!”
Your #1 guard dog
Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him
He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes
Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality
But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit
“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”
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Epel Felmier
“You’re so pretty.”
“...Thanks.”
You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that
And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly 
He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee
He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown
Anything for his new little sibling
“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”
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Sebek Zigvolt
“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!” 
“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”
“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”
Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course
His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well
And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll
“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”
838 notes · View notes
atlabeth · 28 days
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mine forever
request from @nghtwngs
pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!tidemaker reader
a/n: SO sorry for posting this early and having to delete 💀 i was formatting and didnt realize i was not saving it as a draft lmao. but thank you for sending this in love!!! and PLEASEE send in as much nikolai as you want i miss writing for him so much
wc: 1.4k
warning(s): hurt/comfort. reader is insecure, nikolai is the sweetest as usual
join in on my 3k celebration!!
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“You’re avoiding me.” 
Your eyes didn’t move away from the horizon when you heard Nikolai’s voice, though you felt your muscles tense. 
“Clearly not well enough,” you remarked. “Seeing as you found me.” 
“You know I’ll always find you,” Nikolai murmured. “But that means little if you will not talk to me.” 
Of course you were not talking to him. You did not know how to talk to him—not when you so clearly didn’t understand the issue plaguing you. 
All you’d ever known was the life of a Grisha. You were tested when you were young, revealed to be a Tidemaker, and whisked away to the Little Palace, where you’d been honing your abilities ever since. You rebelled against the one thing you knew, joined the side of the Sun Summoner, and now you were in the midst of a war for the very survival of your people. 
There were so few Tidemakers left after the Darkling’s massacre, which meant Alina and Nikolai were counting on you more than ever in their fight to reclaim Ravka. 
But when you needed your powers most, they disappeared. 
You— you just didn’t understand, because it didn’t make sense. You’d spent years studying the Small Science and how to wield it, how to manipulate the water around you no matter how miniscule. 
This was not merzost. You had never tampered with the way of the world, never attempted to bastardize the abilities you’d been granted.
Like called to like. There was a part of you that connected to the water, that allowed you the affinity for all of this.  
You had just… lost it. For no apparent reason. 
“There is nothing to talk about,” you stated simply. The cold of the railing shocked your fingers as you set your hand down, but you welcomed any sort of feeling. 
“Do not be ridiculous,” Nikolai said wryly. He came out onto the balcony and stopped beside you. You could see him looking at you through your peripherals, could feel his intent gaze. “Nobody avoids me unless they have a reason.”
You huffed a bitter laugh. “I certainly have a reason, moi tsarevich.”
“So we’ve gone back to titles?” Nikolai’s lips quirked up. “Shall I start referring to you as Grisha? Tidemaker, even?”
You scoffed. “That would be inaccurate.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “We’ve reached the root of the problem.”
“We hardly did anything,” you said. “Do you talk just to hear the sound of your own voice?”
“I do, as a matter of fact,” Nikolai said. “But you should know your scornful words have no effect when I’m aware of your true feelings.”
“If you are aware of my true feelings, you should know I would like to be left alone.” 
“You want to be left alone because you feel useless without your power,” he said. “Any man worth their salt would not fall to that, and fortunately, I’m worth quite a lot.” 
You finally turned to look at Nikolai, though you could not muster the full force of your anger when you did. He had that slight smile still, the glint in his eyes, and all you could think was that you didn't even deserve this kindness. 
“Because I am,” you said. 
He shook his head. “You are not. Far from useless, actually.” 
“You served in the First Army, didn’t you?” 
“I hardly see how that’s relevant—” 
“Just answer my question.” 
“...Yes,” he said. “I was infantry. The 22nd Regiment.” 
“And if you had lost the ability to shoot a gun, would you be allowed to stay on the front lines?” 
Nikolai shook his head. “I will not participate in hypotheticals to help you feel worse.” 
“Because you know it’s true.” You looked back out at the horizon—the sun was steadily setting. ��I have no place here anymore.” 
He said your name with a slight huff. “That is not true.” 
“I’m not Grisha anymore!” you exclaimed as you whirled back to face him. “The only reason I have ever gotten anywhere— the only reason I am here, the only reason I ever met you in the first place— it is all because of my power.” You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself in the wake of a cold wind. The material was noticeably thinner than your kefta, but you could not bring yourself to wear it anymore. “I’m useless now. To— to Ravka, to the Second Army— to you.” 
His brows furrowed. “You are not useless to Ravka— and you could never be useless to me.” You averted your eyes, unable to meet the full weight of his softened gaze, and his frown deepened. “That’s what this is about then? 
“Don’t act like it’s so ridiculous,” you muttered. 
Nikolai had the nerve to laugh, and you glared at him. He held up his hands in defense, but he could not fully bite back his smile. 
“I apologize, lapushka, but I did not even consider that as an option for why you were so upset.” 
Nikolai took your hands in his, hands that had been the key to your power the entire life, that were failing you, and he held them like nothing else in the world mattered. “Do you know how absurd the thought of me not loving you is?” 
You glanced away, but Nikolai gently cupped your chin with a few fingers and tilted you back to meet his eyes. 
“Because it is,” he continued, letting his hand fall back down to grasp yours. “I love you with everything in me. I love you because you are you—not because of your powers. Not because you are Grisha.” 
“Who am I if I am not Grisha?” Your voice came out as little more than a whisper, near a desperate plea. You’d never felt weaker, never felt smaller. The only thing you’d known all your life had been ripped away from you, and you felt as if you’d been shoved into an endless void. 
Nikolai said your name softly as he squeezed your hands. “You are a soldier of great renown. A revolutionary on the right side of history. The most loyal friend someone can have. And lest you somehow manage to forget it, you are the woman I love.”
“You deserve better than—” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “—than some broken, failed Grisha.”
“You are not broken,” Nikolai murmured, and he never looked away from your eyes as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “We are merely on… a different path.” 
“A different path,” you repeated, and you could not help your wry laugh. 
“Yes,” he nodded. “And we will go down every step of it together. Do you understand that?” 
Nikolai fought for everything he had, despite his standing as a Lantsov. He was a soldier on the front lines, he rose through the ranks on the sea under a pseudonym, and now he was clawing his way through useless formalities in order to take back the throne that he deserved. 
And here you were—someone who was given everything because of some power inside you. And now you didn’t even have that. 
It just did not seem right. It did not make sense. For a man as powerful as Nikolai to stick by your side despite such a misgiving. 
“If you don’t, that is alright.” Nikolai shrugged. “I will just have to spend extra time showing you how much I revere your very being.” 
“Nikolai,” you murmured, and his grip on your hands tightened. 
“I cannot pretend to understand what you are going through,” he said. “I cannot lose what you have lost because I’ve never had it in the first place. But I can promise you wholeheartedly that we will figure out what is wrong. Together.” 
“And what if we don’t?” you asked. You couldn’t help it. 
“Then nothing will change,” Nikolai vowed. “Milaya, nothing can tear me away from you, whether you are Grisha or not. Do you understand that?” 
A part of you still could not. Who were you if you were not of use? 
But when you met Nikolai’s eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to glow with the sunset, full of softness and admiration and love, you found that you could start to.
You may not have believed in yourself, but Nikolai did. And that had to mean something.  
“I’m beginning to,” you murmured. 
“Good,” he said, and his lips quirked into a smile. “But fear not, milaya. I hold enough love for you inside of me for the both of us in the meantime.” 
279 notes · View notes
lilacgyuvin · 4 months
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out of my league — k. gyuvin
pairing: nerd!gyuvin x popular!gn!reader
synopsis: it’s valentine’s day! what better way to confess to your longtime crush (and the highschool’s most popular student) than with a letter shoved through their locker. just don’t let jiwoong find out.
wrd count: 6.3k (DAMN OKAY BITCH!!!)
warnings: highschool!au, slight hurt/lots of comfort, bully!jiwoong (srry someone had to do it), bullying, one km s joke, reader isn’t a bully, eunseok of riize sneak, jiwoong is really mean 😭 a little crack, funeral talk, not to be taken seriously this is fiction!!
a/n: yk i had to write smth with valentine’s day coming up!! i lobe gyuvin gyuvin pls be my valentine pls plsplspls
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“I put a note in their locker.”
It probably wasn’t the best sentence starter, which Gyuvin realizes only after Taerae starts to choke on his strawberry soda mid-chug. Despite his eyes practically bulging out of his head paired with a boisterous gasp amidst hearing Gyuvin’s doings, Eunseok reaches a lending hand out to his suffocating friend’s back.
“You what?!” Eunseok screams in a hushed tone, despite being the only three occupants of the classroom. If Gyuvin didn’t think it was a stupid idea then, well, he certainly does now. He honestly wasn’t going to tell anyone at first; the embarrassment mixed with the fear of rejection almost made him drop the whole plan as a whole. However, binging 3 romance dramas back to back gave him the confidence he’d never thought he’d have otherwise if it weren’t for the male leads and their suave ways, which is what leads him to where he stands today: sending a confession letter to his longtime crush which also ended up being the cause of his friend’s premature death. Thanks, Choi Woong!
Taerae unfortunately survives his cough attack and uses his regained ability to breath properly to discourage Gyuvin’s efforts even more. “Jiwoong’s gonna kill you man.”
Yes, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear right now. He decides against answering with sarcasm and opts out to rolling his eyes as hard as he can at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-named.
“He didn’t see me put it in,” He certainly didn’t, and Gyuvin knows this because he showed up an hour earlier than normal to slip the note in, partly to avoid Jiwoong and to also beat his inevitable numerous contenders. “Plus, they’re not even dating. They don’t like him.”
Eunseok and Taerae share a glance. They look back at Gyuvin. “Did they tell you that.”
Gyuvin’s starting to get tired of rolling his eyes. Of course they didn’t tell him that, they’re nowhere near close. While they’ve coexisted in the same space for the past four years, their friend groups are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. They’re admired by everyone, in numerous clubs, and is practically known by the whole school. The only club Gyuvin’s a part of is the Epic Gamers Club™ held at Eunseok’s house every other day. And as far as being admired goes…
“Yo. Gyuvin.”
Oh fuck, it’s so over. Gyuvin is going to die. What’s-his-face is here and Gyuvin is going to die, all because he couldn’t confess to his crush like a normal person. How did Jiwoong even see him? It’s not like he handed the letter to them in plain sight, and there’s no way in hell Jiwoong showed up to school an hour early.
Well, none of that matters anymore. Jiwoong is now walking into the once peaceful confines of the classroom, his goons right behind him, and Gyuvin’s about to meet his end.
All he asks is that Y/n is at his funeral.
Despite coming into the classroom for Gyuvin, Jiwoong is kind enough to make time to mess around with his friends first. Wedging himself in between the three desks facing each other, Jiwoong snatches Taerae’s glasses off his face and tosses them to the floor, and at the same time shoves Eunseok’s tuna mayo kimbap out of his hands. So much for escaping the lunch room.
After watching his friends scramble for their discarded items, Jiwoong turns his back to them in favor of facing Gyuvin, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
Kim Jiwoong: The entire school’s boy crush and simultaneously Gyuvin’s worst nightmare. Going into high school, Gyuvin didn’t think he’d have problems with anyone, his plan was simple: make a decent amount of friends, stay in the honors program so he can get into his dream university, and best his all-time score in Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Oh, and get into his first relationship (since the girl he ‘dated’ in the second grade didn’t count, according to Taerae).
He guesses he strived too hard at the second thing though, as in their freshman year Jiwoong was left at second place in their classes overall academic ranking, and Jiwoong was never second.
Ever since then, Jiwoong has tried everything to sabotage Gyuvin’s grades, which ended in failure each time. So, he just stuck to messing with him. Now Gyuvin wouldn’t really mind if he had got reprimanded for his actions, but he gets away with it— every time. Sneaking slaps upside his head when passing him through the halls, pushing and tripping him during gym, and ‘accidentally’ spilling his drink onto his uniform (which is what initiated classroom lunches amongst him and his friends in the first place): he got away with it all, for four damn years. All because of that facade he puts up in front of everyone. With his perfect grades combined with his charm, he’s adored by students and faculty alike— all but the few who were unfortunate enough to be victims of his ridiculing, Gyuvin included.
The devil himself opens his mouth once again. “I haven’t seen you in a while, you hiding from me?” His smirk forms into a smile, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it holds the same sinister tone as his previous expression did.
Gyuvin looks up at him, disdain hidden behind the neutral shield he’s learned to master in favor of avoiding a swift blow to the face (not that it ever stopped Jiwoong from landing one, anyway). “No.”
At that, Jiwoong’s smile drops, his eyebrows furrow in fake confusion and he starts to look around the empty room. “But… you’re having lunch. In an empty classroom. When there’s a perfectly good cafeteria waiting for you downstairs.” Jiwoong’s friends snicker by the door as he leans down to be eye level with Gyuvin. “Don’t you find that rude, Gyuvin? The staff make sure the cafe is cleaned spotless for scum like you to eat, and you’re eating in the classroom?”
Literally what the fuck is he even talking about. It isn’t uncommon for students to eat in the classrooms, and he knows this because Jiwoong’s literally done it before. It’s in that moment that he realizes Jiwoong just came in here to mess with him, which means he doesn’t know about the letter which means that he won’t die today. Looks like he’ll live to see another day after all!
His newfound happiness isn’t long lived, as in the span of one second, Gyuvin blinks and his food is nothing but a pile of solids and liquids on the classroom’s floor.
Jiwoong gives him a mean snare, despite the fact that all of Gyuvin’s attention is to his now germ-infested food. “And now look, you made a mess.”
Gyuvin can barely hear him and his friends laughing with the way his ears are ringing— no, practically blaring throughout his head. His bulgogi over rice is on the floor. His fucking bulgogi over rice, the last of its kind (as his mom let him have the last of the leftovers), is now nothing but a concoction of soggy meat and rice sautaed with his strawberry milk.
Usually, Gyuvin would be the bigger person and walk away; he’d shut his mouth, clean up the mess, and go about his day. But for some reason, he doesn’t feel like being the mature one today. Maybe it’s the never ending grating laughter coming from his friends, maybe it’s because he’s tired of Jiwoong pushing him around, or maybe it’s just because his mom’s bulgogi is the best bulgogi, and now he can’t have any, all because Kim Jiwoong was bored.
Without a second thought, Gyuvin rises from his chair, lifting his arms to push at the chest of an unexpecting Jiwoong, who stumbles onto the desks of Gyuvin’s friends behind him (he’ll apologize to them for that later). Jiwoong unfortunately finds his footing rather quickly, and doesn’t waste a second as he roughly grabs Gyuvin by the collar, dragging him to the nearest wall and slams him against it. “You fucking crazy? Huh?!”
Those dramas must be really getting to me, Gyuvin thinks. It becomes obvious when he doesn’t shut his mouth after Jiwoong’s question. “Fuck you, Jiwoong.”
He doesn’t even mean to spit in his face, but it happens when he speaks, and he can feel his past self crying tears of joy. He’s been wanting to do this for four years. Maybe the bulgogi sacrificed itself for this very moment. Thanks, Bulgogi. I’ll never forget you.
Jiwoong dryly laughs, lolling his head to the side like the psycho he is. “Yeah, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Okay, remember when Gyuvin thought he was free from begging murdered and would live to see another day? He’s starting to think he spoke too soon.
It’s like things are moving in slow motion; Jiwoong releasing a hand on his collar in favor of making a fist angled straight at Gyuvin’s nose, his friends standing from their seats in dreadful anticipation, and the swift breeze that comes from the door being swung open.
“Leave him alone, Jiwoong.”
Ah, his guardian angel.
In less than a millisecond, Jiwoong’s vice grip on Gyuvin’s collar is released, and the fist ready to knock him out is lowered to his side. A deep sigh escapes his throat before he turns to the agitated student. “Go back downstairs, Y/n. This is nothing.”
Gyuvin almost laughs wholeheartedly at Jiwoong’s weak attempt to redirect them. As if he could get them to do anything he said.
Y/n cooks their head to the side, which in Gyuvin’s book is a telltale sign that they’re about to read the fuck out of Jiwoong. “Yeah, it was nothing, until you decided to come in here and bother them for literally no reason. Do you seriously have nothing else better to do?”
Gyuvin can feel an amused smile crawling onto his face as he watches Jiwoong scramble to find an excuse. Seeing Jiwoong try his hardest not to physically deflate in front of his friends would never get old.
And neither would his good-boy facade, apparently! Despite being caught in the act by Y/n for the millionth time, Jiwoong still attempts to save face by pulling out the puppy eyes plucked from the deepest pits of Hell, paired with the fakest apologetic look Gyuvin’s ever witnessed, and turns to be face to face with Y/n, caressing their arm in what he thinks is a comforting gesture. “Come on, don’t be like that. What, you want me to apologize?”
“Yes.”
Like he’s just heard he’s due to get castrated tomorrow morning, his hand’s cease the petting motion and Jiwoong does a double take. “You serious?” He looks into their eyes for any signs of humor behind them (which is stupid for issuing an apology, Gyuvin thinks), and when he doesn’t find any, he drops the act faster than Gyuvin can say ‘COD sucks’ and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out the loudest groan known to man. “Oh my- fine.” Jiwoong looks to his right, locking eyes with him, “Sorry for knocking over your piece of shit lunch, Gyuvin.”
Piece of— his mom’s bulgogi?! Of course Jiwoong wouldn’t know the significance the lunch held for Gyuvin, but he wouldn’t care anyway, so Gyuvin breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes as far into his head as humanly possible.
Gyuvin, now making his way to his book bag to retrieve napkins for his late lunch on the floor, can’t see the look of disbelief on Jiwoong’s face, but he sure can hear it. “What, you’re not gonna accept my apology?”
Gyuvin doesn’t stop fetching for the tissues even when he hears Jiwoong’s footsteps approaching him, and neither does he stop when they come to a halt. “He doesn’t have to do anything,” When he finally retrieves the napkins, Y/n is at his side on the floor, grabbing the empty plastic bag on his desk. “Now if you aren’t going to help clean up, then leave.”
Jiwoong furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t need to help them, Y/n.”
“I also don’t have to meet with you at the cafe after school.”
Oh, Gyuvin knows that one hurt. Everyone knows Jiwoong’s been dying to ask Y/n out for a while now (mostly because he’d never shut up about it), and boy was Gyuvin right. He stumbles over his words as he raises his arms before dropping them. “Come on, Y/n. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Despite the obvious hurt in his voice, they don’t even spare him a glance, focusing on the mess in front of them. “..So? We’re not dating, take Minjeong or something.”
A beat of silence passes, and he thinks Jiwoong died of embarrassment until a scoff erupts from his throat. Okay, there was no way Gyuvin would miss out on seeing Jiwoong’s face after getting rejected before he could even confess, so he raises his head and fully suspects Jiwoong to be sulking or something. He was so wrong. When Gyuvin looks up, Jiwoong is staring right at him, his eyes holding nothing but disdain and revulsion. Wow, Gyuvin thinks, if this is how he reacts to them just simply helping me, what’s he gonna do when they accept (which they hopefully will) my confession? He’d rather not think about that right now actually, and he doesn’t have to any longer, as Jiwoong turns on his heels and makes his way out of the classroom, his goons behind him, but not before mumbling a parting gift for Gyuvin. “Fuckin’ freak.”
So original. Anyway, Gyuvin’s just glad he doesn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the lunch period. His friend’s are quick to his side, and he reassures them that he’s fine. “I’ll go get more napkins.” Eunseok nods and rises from the floor, and is halfway through the door before he stops when he realizes Taerae isn’t behind him.
He cranes his head to the side, and from the corner of his eye he can see Taerae still at Gyuvin’s side. Unbelievable. “Um, Taerae.” He raises his head to his friend standing, and doesn’t get the hint until Eunseok is nudging his head towards the hallway in a ‘get-the-fuck-out’ sorta way.
He looks between Gyuvin and Y/n before his whole body straightens, finally getting up from his crouching position. “Oh! Um, yeah. I’m going to get napkins too.” While Taerae walks towards his other friend, Gyuvin raises his head, and Eunseok gives him a thumbs up in support. It’s in that moment that Gyuvin decides pizza’s gonna be on him at tonight’s Epic Gamers Club™ meeting.
A beat of silence passes, only the sounds of his poor lunch being scooped up into the bag are heard, until Gyuvin musters the courage to start the conversation.
“Thanks for helping me.” He doesn’t have to stop his task to know that they’re smiling. “Of course, I’m sorry about him.” They say in a remorseful tone.
Gyuvin hates the way they apologize on Jiwoong’s behalf, but at the same time he can’t help the way their kindness makes him feel all warm and gooey inside— They're just too good for this world. “You don’t have to apologize for him. You’re not his babysitter.”
His last comment seems to make Y/n laugh. ‘Huh, I’m just funny like that, I guess’ (It’s what he’s thinking, but his friends would agree to disagree.) “It sometimes feels that way.”
Gyuvin hesitates to ask his next question; they’re not exactly close, but he’s been feeling all sorts of confident recently, so he does anyway. “Why do you hang out with him? With them?” ‘Them’ being the rest of Jiwoong’s posee who think they’re hot shit; being all types of mean to other students just because of their looks or their parents’ social statuses. Gyuvin doesn’t think he hates anything more than a snobby rich asshole, which is what induced Gyuvin’s question in the first place, because Y/n isn’t a snobby rich asshole, yet they hang out with a group of them. It’s a question he’s been dying to ask for years now, and all it took was for Jiwoong to fuck up his lunch. Gyuvin almost mentally thanks him, but he barfs in his mouth a bit just thinking about it.
A few seconds pass, and it seems like they’re trying to find an answer to the question themselves. A nervous sigh passes through their lips as they wipe at the strawberry milk staining the floor. “Well, I guess I just fell into it? The friend group, I mean. When I first transferred, I thought they were really nice. At least they treated me that way. I don’t know why.”
‘Because you’re smart and all types of talented and you’re fucking gorgeous’ and a thousand other things is what Gyuvin wants to say, but he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets them continue. “But yeah, they’d always push me to hang out with them, and I guess by the time I realized who they truly were, everyone had already established their friends groups.” At this point is where they ran out of napkins and there was still a bit of the mess left over, so the two sit across from each other, leaning on the legs of the desks behind them. Despite loving the alone time they’re getting, Gyuvin hopes Eunseok and Taerae come back with more tissue soon, or else he’d have to explain the mess to his teacher, thus taking the fall for Jiwoong once again. His sulking that came from just thinking about the possibility is interrupted when Y/n speaks again, in a more hushed tone this time. “I guess I’m just scared of being alone.”
Woah, Gyuvin’s never thought of it that way. Having no friends was a valid fear, hell, Gyuvin felt that way before he met his. He can’t imagine how it would affect Y/n. The school’s most popular student: a loner— they’d never hear the end of it.
He hates that they feel like they need to hang out with pieces of shit to avoid being lonely, when that isn’t the truth at all. As delusional as it may sound, Gyuvin is right here. Who cares if they don’t have similar interests? They can introduce each other to all their different hyper fixations and special interests. And so what if they’re from seemingly different worlds? Gyuvin would swim across all the oceans and walk over thousands of miles if it meant getting to be with Y/n. Every time they’re paired to work on an assignment together, whenever they congratulate him on yet another academic achievement, when Y/n spots him in the hallway and stops to talk to Gyuvin and only Gyuvin. It never gets old, his heart beating a million times over with how kind and effortlessly funny and drop dead gorgeous they are. Fuck, he thinks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on if they reject me.
Gyuvin never wants them to feel alone, he needs to let them know that such a thing can never happen. He can tell his silence goes on longer than expected with the way they start to nervously fiddle with the edges of their uniform sleeves. He says it before he can think about it for another second. “You don’t have to be alone. I-I know we’re not close, but you can talk to me.”
With the speed in which their head lifts from their fixed view on the ground, Gyuvin doesn’t know if he’s successfully swooned them or if he effectively fucked up his chances at being anything to them. He needs to save face, so he raises his hands in defense, his eyes widening in pure fear. “O-only if you want to! Like. Just in case you felt like it or whatever.” Yeah, it totally wouldn’t put me into anaphylactic shock if you were to seek me out in any way shape or form!
Gyuvin lowers his hands, leans back on the legs of the desk, and watches as Y/n’s expression transforms from one of shock, to pure adoration. Their eyes soften in a way Gyuvin’s never seen before, and if he were to look a little closer, he swears there are tears swimming at the brim of them, threatening to fall.
‘FuckifImadeY/ncryI’mgonnaenditall’ is the one thought running through Gyuvin’s head as he waits for a response. He isn’t joking either— he’s sorry to his loved ones and all that, and he supposes the Epic Gamer Club™ would have to go on an indefinite hiatus with the emotional trauma it’d leave on his friends. He wonders if his dog would be brought to his funeral?
Turns out he won’t have to plan out his funeral arrangements after all, that becomes clear when a warm smile meets their eyes, and the tears dwindle to a glassy thin layer over their eyes. “I’d love to. Thank you, Gyuvin.”
Oh Gyuvin thinks his heart just exploded, but like, in a good way. A love explosion, if you will. He doesn’t waste a beat before he’s sporting a smile of his own, sitting straighter than before. “Anytime.”
His friends aren’t back, the period isn’t over yet, and he doesn’t want to stop the conversation there. So, he talks about the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past week. “I saw your locker. You got a lot of letters.”
Y/n laughs bashfully at the mention of the hundreds- no, thousands of letters they received today. When they arrived at school, they opened their locker and was bombarded with a sea of pink and red cards that practically drowned them, and by the time second period rolled around, their desk was stuffed to the brim with even more advances in the form of candies and cute plushies. “Yeah, I haven’t even gotten to a single one yet! I’ll do it before school ends, though. I’m glad people like me enough to get me things.”
They’ve got to be kidding. The spring semester of freshman year was absolutely rocked by the wave that was Y/n’s arrival. Despite coming from a normal, middle class family, they were quick to rise in popularity. At first, it had just been their beauty that seemed to draw everyone in, but as soon as they were able to showcase their physical and academic skill, along with their endless heaps of kindness, they became more than just a pretty face, and the whole student body can testify to that. Unfortunately, by the 4th day into the new semester Jiwoong and his loser-ass friends had already sunk their claws into Y/n and scooped them up before any other group could. But yeah, anyone who doesn’t love Y/n is crazy and is probably most definitely going to hell.
‘I hope you read mine.’ It’s at the tip of his tongue, he’s straightening his posture to sit taller and ask them with his whole chest, and—
“More napkins!” is the opener Taerae decides to go with as he and Eunseok barge into the confines of the classroom. “Uhh sorry we took so long, we were arguing about…” he turns to Eunseok who just shrugs his shoulders before turning back to the two. “.. who the strongest avenger is.”
Gyuvin wants to roll his eyes, partly because they couldn’t have come up with a lamer excuse even if they tried, they unknowingly sabotaged his unplanned confession, and cause the strongest avenger is obviously Scarlet Witch.
He decides against it, rather locking eyes with Y/n who he finds is already staring at him, and they exchange equally bashful smiles. Gyuvin isn’t mad at his friends, not when they invade his and Y/n’s space to help clean the last of the mess, and not when they use the rest of the lunch period to bombard them with questions like, ‘have you read kimetsu no yaiba?’ and ‘where would you go if a zombie apocalypse broke out?’ (they answered with staying in Seoul, which prompted Taerae to blatantly tell them they’re going to die, which in turn earned himself a slap from Gyuvin).
He isn’t mad because he still has a chance: today, at 3:00 in room 124 after school like his letter specified. He hopes, some way, that through the piles of letters and candies and plushies and whatever the hell else, they somehow recognize Gyuvin’s from the crowd, and pick him.
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It’s time.
It’s time, and Gyuvin’s got it all figured out: Although school’s ended 45 minutes ago, he knows Y/n is part of the cooking club, so he isn’t keeping them behind or anything. He used that time to run to the flower shop a few minutes away and get them their favorites along with a stuffed animal. The classroom he initiated the meeting place in was one that was barely used by students, let alone teachers, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Oh! And it’s on the first floor, so if Jiwoong happened to find out about his advances and decided to sabotage him with his friends, then he could jump out the window without sustaining any injuries.
Gyuvin’s got it all figured out, so why’s he practically shitting bricks right now?
There are a lot of reasons really— the main one being the fear of rejection which he’s afraid he’ll never be able to live down which will lead to him maybe most certainly doing something drastic.
But it’s 2:58, two minutes before Gyuvin’s letter says for them to meet, and he has to pull himself together. He decides pacing around the room a billion times isn’t gonna do the trick, so he opts out to sitting on the teacher’s desk instead, setting the flowers and plushie behind him. He pulls out his phone and at the same time receives a text from Eunseok.
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: let us know how it goes 🫡 also please don’t die today
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: taerae brought danganronpa and you know how he likes to voice the lines aloud. you’re nagito we need you
Along with Taerae’s ridiculous gaming antics, Gyuvin finds it amusing how Eunseok also thought about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, and it makes him laugh, somewhat calming his nerves down. It’s comforting to know that if this confession doesn’t end up going well, he’ll at least have his friends to fall back on.
“What’s so funny?”
The sudden voice echoes through the empty classroom and Gyuvin almost lauches his phone through the ceiling with the way he jumps.
His heart drops a million times over and he nearly passes out, but he doesn’t, as an angel was sent before him. The angel, if you will.
Standing by the now closed door was Y/n, the sun cascading over their skin to only amplify the seemingly everlasting glow on their face. The same tender smile that they gave Gyuvin a few hours earlier was back, and he looks down and—
They’re holding his letter.
Out of the swarm of all the pinks and reds, through the heart-shaped candies and the softest plushies, none of them are in sight but Gyuvin’s. Gyuvin’s, with the stupid Evangelion washi tape on the side preventing the envelope from falling open after he accidentally ripped it, the one with animal crossing stickers plastered every which way because Y/n mentioned the game once, the one with emoticons drawn on by Gyuvin himself in hopes of standing out in the sea of letters: it was in the grasp of Y/n’s hands, fiddling with the edges as they approach Gyuvin in what to him feels like slow motion.
He honestly feels like he could cry. Oh shit, is he crying? Gyuvin sets his phone down to raise a hand to his cheek, which is thankfully dry, but the action brings him back to reality and he realizes that he’s been staring for longer than normal, so he manages to use the little breath he has left to muster what he can.
“You came.” It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do, and way better than just staring at them in pure silence.
“Of course I did.” They say it like it’s the most obvious thing ever, which only serves to throw Gyuvin off even more.
“But- what about everyone else?” What he really wants to say is ‘why me?’ Throughout the day he’d pass by their locker, their desks, even Y/n themselves; everyone seeking them out were more than worthy candidates. Whether it were their looks, their popularity, or the fact that they were confident enough to confess straight to their face— all of them were more worthy than Gyuvin could ever be. So why were they here, at 3:00 pm in room 124 like the letter read?
They shrug, a knowing smile plastered on their face. “You said you wanted to talk?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah.” He opens his mouth, breathing in a handful of air before speaking again, “...I forgot what I was gonna say.”
It wasn’t a total lie! He was caught completely off guard, it was kinda expected to forget the speech he’s been practicing for weeks now. It doesn’t seem to phase Y/n though, for they simply shrug again, and begin to remove the letter from the envelope in their hand. “That’s okay. Maybe if we read your letter it’ll jog your memory.”
‘Dear Y/n,
I know we aren’t close, but you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Please meet me in room 124 @ 3:00pm today, so that I can express my feelings in full.
— Kim Gyuvin’
It sounded like poetry when Gyuvin read it in his head, aloud in his room, and then to his mom for a second voice of opinion (she said he was better than Shakespeare, which went straight to his head). But now Gyuvin isn’t too sure how that made the final cut, he cringes a million times over when they read it out loud.
He scratches the back of his head and tries to hide his mortification as much as possible. “Sorry, I know that’s pretty vague..”
“It’s okay! You can say whatever’s on your mind, I’m all ears.”
Holy shit, this was really happening. He doesn’t know why, but he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he thought Y/n was too good for him, and he really did think about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, but none of that matters anymore— not when his dream come true is standing right in front of him, when they could be doing anything else right now and they decided to be with him. The fact that they’re even giving him the time of day is enough to fuel him with more confidence than those romance dramas ever could.
He stands up from the desk, and takes a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n, I have for a while now. You’re smart and funny and really pretty, and you’re always nice to me. I know we don’t like all of the same things, but that doesn’t bother me. I want to learn more about you, I want to learn everything about you. I hope you feel the same way, and if not, I understand. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we graduated without letting you know how I feel.” Without turning around, he reaches for the flowers and stuffed animal, trying his best to steady the nervous look creeping onto his face as he holds the items out between the two of them. “Please be my valentine! And then something more. If you wanted to.”
Gyuvin’s rant has finally come to an end, and he doesn’t realize they’re tearing up until he’s holding the items up for them to take.
Oh my God he’s seriously made Y/n cry, he’s got to end it now. It’s what he’s thinking until his personal space is being invaded by the warmth of the bone crushing hug Y/n has them in before Gyuvin can even apologize.
Despite their face being shoved into his chest, tears wetting his uniform vest, they still manage to muster a coherent response. “I’m glad you told me before graduation. Of course I’ll be your valentine.”
Wait, what? Gyuvin stiffens in their hold when he both realizes that he hadn’t returned their hug and that they said yes?! “Oh my God really? Wait. I’m sorry, I know this is what I like, wanted, but can I ask why?” their hold on Gyuvin releases a bit as he continues, “Is this just you being nice? Cause if so—”
In the span of two seconds, their warmth is gone, and Gyuvin can’t even sulk the lost feeling before he’s being punched in the arm. “Ow!”
Their tear stained face holds a look of offense, like Gyuvin just wronged their entire lineage. “You think I’m crying just to be nice?” Oh, he thinks, thats a good point. “I like you too, dummy. You’re really smart, and you never stoop to people like Jiwoong’s level whenever they bother you. Also, you get really cute when talking about your dog or those games you like.”
They actually listened to his stupid rants? How could he not blush at that? It spreads from his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and fails to go unnoticed by Y/n. “And when you blush. You’re just a big cutie.”
Oh Gyuvin’s having one of those love explosions again, but like, a million times worse. This can’t possibly be good for his health. In a poor attempt to hide his bashfulness, Gyuvin brings his hands up to cover his face, his words muffled by the makeshift shield. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”
And apparently Gyuvin’s suffering is funny? Because now they’re laughing, coming closer and raising their own hands to grab at Gyuvin’s wrists, successfully pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be shy now! You’ve come so far.”
They’re right, he has come so far. So why cower away now? He’s quite literally got them in the palm of his hands (or vise versa, he should say), and he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away now. With their hands now holding his wrists at their sides, Gyuvin doesn’t have half the mind to think before he’s leaning in, landing a feather-light peck to their lips. ‘Oh fuck, am I doing this right?’ It isn’t until now that Gyuvin remembers he’s never actually kissed anyone before, and panic follows quickly as he pulls away, their faces still mere inches away. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m—”
Their lips are suddenly on each other again, but it’s Y/n who initiates the kiss, and it's beyond better than Gyuvin’s. It’s light and refreshing, like how Gyuvin feels whenever they’re around. Their lips are as soft as their hands in his grip, and he can feel them smiling against his as they continue. He never wants to let go of this moment.
He ends up not minding when it does end though, for when they both pull away, Y/n finally lets his wrists go in favor of holding his face in their hands, which has Gyuvin practically melting into their touch. “If you apologize one more time, I’m going to punch you again.” They smile, despite having just threatened him.
Gyuvin doesn’t mind, though. They could hit him with the force of a hundred meteors, and he’d still forgive them. So he just smiles, basking in the warmth of their hands. “So, what’d you wanna do now?”
Y/n ponders for a moment, and perks up not long after. “Wanna go grab food?”
Oh, Gyuvin could cry. Y/n came straight from the cooking club, where they make full course meals that they get to eat at the end, so there was no reason for Y/n to be hungry. Yet Gyuvin’s lunch was ruined by what’s-his-face, and there was no way he wasn’t starving by now, and they remembered that.
He doesn’t wanna ruin the mood with his crocodile tears, so he sucks up his tears as much as he can, and smiles fondly instead. “Sounds perfect.”
Gyuvin’s still in a minor state of shock when they walk out of the school's doors. The person who he’s been pining over for the past four years likes him back, and they’re going on a date. Is this a date? He doesn’t want to ask, rather basking in the sun from both the sky and the one right next to him. He’s kind of worried that Jiwoong is gonna find out, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much when his valentine is holding his hand as they make their way to the train station.
He takes note of their warning from earlier, but he has to ask. “Are you okay? Sorry for making you cry.”
Gyuvin’s ready to take a punch, but he’s lightly shoved instead, making the both of them lose their footing a bit before walking in tandem again. “It’s okay. And yeah, you’re just really sweet.” They turn to him and smile, squeezing his hand lightly. “Okay, let’s learn more about each other starting now. What kind of ramen do you like?”
“Wanna check out the new spot downtown and find out?”
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Gojo’s boy toys (◕ε◕*)
3:40 pm
You: bros.
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : bro??
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : was that a good bros or a bad bros
You: we kissed
You: we’re going out for ramen now
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : ?$/;&/??@
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : BROOOOOO
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : omg i’m crying
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : gyuvin im crying
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : he is crying gyuvin
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : we’re so happy for you bro.
You: thanks guys 😄
i’ll still be home in time to play so
just sit tight
taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : tell y/n i say sorry for saying they have zero survival instinct!!!
eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : AND FUCK YOU JIWOONG
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a/n: in no way am i implying that doing things like reading manga or playing smash bros is weird, i just took things that’ve gotten me called a nerd 😭😭 also being a nerd isn’t bad i love my nerds 🫡 stream beautiful monster stan p1h get get get get a guitar bai
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celestialprincesse · 2 months
Note
If you’re not taking requests then just ignore me! But could you maybe write something for Soap and Ghost both wanting the same girl and she opts to not choose 🥰 I’m dying to read your smutty take on this
I'm like chowing down on your brain right now this is so scrumdiddyumyum 🎀
nsfw ⭐️ mdni
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Johnny wanted you first. The, moment you hopped down from the helo and into his life, he wanted you. Everything about the way your eyes glittered in the early spring sunlight to the way your errant baby hairs practically begged for him to sweep them back behind your ears, everything about you. You'd been called in as a temporary spotter for a few missions, but he earnestly, foolishly hoped you'd stick around. Just for a little while.
He'd also foolishly hoped that he'd be the only one to want you. In the beginning, he thought he was.
But of course, fucking Simon had to ruin everything. Of course. He has a tendency to not realise what an Adonis he is, with his towering six foot frame and muscles for days, no, weeks. Simon, and his innate ability to have every woman in the same room simpering.
He'd noticed the switch in a debrief. Normally cold, callous Simon guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back, pulling out your chair for you with such cool, casual confidence. Normally such an action would mean nothing. Nothing would change between them or the team. They'd never liked the same types or gone for the same women. You, unfortunately, were a perfect blend of the things they both absolutely adored. Just chirpy enough to keep up with Johnny's boisterous personality, mellow enough to relax with Simon. You were just bratty enough to give Johnny the fight he fight he always craved, submissive enough to know when Simon wanted you to stay in line. You were dangerously perfect.
You also had a tendency to come in early in the mornings. Like your teammates. More specifically, Johnny and Simon, that is.
Simon always came in early after the gym, to not only get to the teabags first, but also settle into his morning work routine before the others arrived.
Johnny would in as early as possible to try and get the first appointment with the physio whenever she dropped in.
For you, it had actually been a one off. You'd left your charger in the common room yesterday, and wanted to make sure your laptop wasn't dead for briefing minutes.
The quiet arguing begins the common room door had been unexpected to say the least.
Johnny's delicious brogue grew thicker as your ear pressed to the door, eyebrows furrowing as you attempted to gain an understanding of their conversation.
" - cannae understand why you won't jus' leave her alone."
"She seems perfectly fine with my attention." Simon drawled back, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't have your knees weak with the thought alone.
In your not-yet-eight-AM delirium, you'd barely even registered that the door wasn't all the way closed. Until you'd barrelled into it. With your full body weight. The string of colourful expletives which passed through your lips as you went crashing into the threadbare rug had been enough to snap Johnny and Simon from their boyish row.
"Speak of the devil." The amusement dripping from Simon's voice had you cringing.
"Laptop? I -" You'd barely managed to stammer before Johnny had you back up on your feet, a concerned look on his face as he went to pick up your (thankfully) unscathed laptop.
"Didnae realise you were one to eavesdrop, hen." Johnny cooed into your ear, a wonderfully warm hand gripping your chin to tilt your head this way and that, making sure you'd not been hurt by your fall.
"Might as well tell her whilst she's here, hm?" Coaxed Simon as you were guided to the squishy old couch in the middle of the room.
"Tell me?"
"Ask you, really." Simon again, with an indifferent shrug.
"We're - we both like ye a lot, hen." Johnny wouldn't dare crowd your space, no matter how strong the urge to reach for your hand, give it an encouraging squeeze.
"I like you too?" You'd vaguely heard yourself mumble, although the sound seemed so disjointed - foggy as you sunk into the depths of your feelings for both men. Equally.
"I like you both, too." Both men nodded as you reiterated what they'd suspected.
"No problem with that." Johnny encouraged, seeing your slightly flustered look, skittish and edgy, having been thrown into such a situation unwillingly, and this early in the morning. "It's twenty-twenty-four. Definitely no the weirdest shite I've seen happening."
"Like - sharing?" You stammered awkwardly, gaze flickering between Simon's understanding one, and Johnny's eager blues.
"S'pose we could give it a try." Simons gruff voice filled the room, tamping down the anxiety bubbling away in your tummy.
"Would you -?" You'd pointed a finger between the two of them, wordlessly indicating the direction of your question, without having to actually speak it.
"For now? No." Simon seemed to have, surprisingly, already thought the entire thing through. Always two steps ahead.
"But we don't mind sharing, so long as yer comfortable with that, hen."
And now, not even a month later, you're sat in the backseat of Simon's car, lips locked with Johnny's in a fervent kiss, your hand stroking eagerly around his shaft, whilst Simon's fingers curl up against the velvety walls of your pussy, his nose bumping the base of your jaw as he nips and sucks at your neck.
You've found that Simon barely needs to be touched to cum, perfectly contented to touch you and taste you until he finishes still straining at his jeans, whilst Johnny is far more hands-on, needs your help, to know you're there. That it's you and no one else.
The two of them are actually getting on surprisingly well in the confines of your relationship, too. The jealousy still rears its ugly head occasionally, but the two men are perfectly happy to push that aside and work together. Especially if it means hearing your pretty moans stifled by Johnny's lips as you cum on Simon's fingers.
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I took like four melatonin before writing this, so sorry if it's nonsensical in parts!! It's also like not actually that smutty but!! Oh well!!
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evilminji · 3 months
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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.
Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra
Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.
Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.
Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.
Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.
Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .
I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.
Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.
Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.
Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.
Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.
Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master
Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.
(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)
Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯\⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠/
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Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!
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luvvyouforever · 4 months
Text
headcanons: marriage and domesticity with acotar characters ♡
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↳ includes rhysand, feyre, azriel, cassian, morrigan, lucien, tamlin, and amren. unfortunately, those are the only characters i know well enough to write for but more will come in the future!
↳ fluff to the max and then more fluff. children, pregnancy, marriage, family, home dynamics.
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rhysand:
-strives to have a very welcoming, comforting home. buys luxurious throw pillows from stories in velaris even though you scold him for each one he adds to his already huge collection. he just wants every surface to feel comfortable so he also buys the best mattresses and couches and will spend hours in a store picking them.
-loves to have an occasional meal cooked entirely by your family. he puts on a silly apron and dances around the kitchen, sprinkling spices willy-nilly. "accidentally" gets food on your cheek which he will happily kiss away.
-feels so proud to have his own family that loves each other unconditionally and would do anything to protect that. you and your kids are the most important thing to him and he could be a very scary person if he ever feels that you're being threatened. is much more careful in his day-to-day life because he knows that there are people who wait on him to come home.
feyre:
-if you were pregnant, feyre would be as caring as she could be. she'd wait on you hand and foot and massage anything that hurt. she'd find you the best calming and soothing lotions for your tummy. every so often, she'd lay on your tummy and tell your kid all the the great things they'll be born into.
-feyre's paintings all over the house :(( she has a little art studio which is constantly messy but you proudly hang everything she does in special little spots everywhere. she loooooves doing portraits of you and the two of you together.
-her life is already very grand so she loves nothing more than having a peaceful night indoors with you. she holds out for the weekends when you can sleep in, cuddle all day, and read together. she makes the best teas and surprises you with them on cozy sunday mornings!
azriel:
-his home is immaculate, cleaned spotless, and a little minimalist. if this isn't your style, he will gladly give you the ability to decorate the space as long as it's clean. azriel scrubbing the kitchen in bright latex gloves is not a rare sight. he just likes the comfort it brings him after the gory things he does for his job.
-he gets you the prettiest, most personalized engagement ring ever. he listens to you so closely and is so attentive that he knew exactly what you would like. he had it designed by a jeweler in velaris and it's probably engraved with something incredibly sentimental.
-he loves matching clothes in the privacy of his home! like matching silk pajama sets? yes please! listen, i've said it before and i'll say it again, azriel lives for the fancier things in life and he just wants to share that with you! he encourages you to wear the same soft and comfortable pajama pants that he is.
cassian:
-destroys the house with his kids! makes a big mess while playing with them. like pillow fights and paints and water and intense acting with toys. you continuously scold him for it and he always cleans up all nice but he can't help it! he just wants to give his kids the most fun childhood ever.
-would lose his SHIT if his kids had wings oh my god. wants to show them how to fly and take them on flights above beautiful landscapes. is probably the dad to push the kid into the water to get them used to it and this applies to flying. "it's just how illyrians learn, baby!" "he's not even a full illyrian!"
-his house is colorful and full of memories everywhere. pictures of the inner circle, of you, of the kids, anyone. keeps anything his kids make him. keeps any gift you give him. tapes notes and invitations to the fridge. he's just so sentimental like that!
morrigan:
-cried like a baby at your wedding. no matter if you walked down the aisle or if she did, she was crying instantly. rhys nudged her shoulder and cassian and azriel laughed at her afterward but you only smiled at her and helped her touch up her makeup!
-is a little hesitant to begin a family. it's more to do with her past and her family than anything else. she doesn't want to give anyone that power over her. if you are really excited about starting a family, she would certainly hear you out and if it did happen, she'd be the best mother ever.
-comes home to you with gifts every day. you keep telling her you don't need them but you gotta let her spoil you! one day it is a new ring that perfectly matches the stone in your engagement ring and that you should totally put on your right hand pointer finger because it would look best!
lucien:
-would totally thrive with a big family. like he would know everyone's interests, what they're up to, their friends, their food preferences, everything. gives them all equal attention and can wrangle them all together with expertise.
-i feel like he really loves showers and baths with you. like unless he was super stinky or unless you were gone, he would just not shower unless it was with you. he loves the intimacy and the closeness it brings!! and he loves washing your hair for you or brushing it or braiding it for you!
-one of his hobbies is mixology! i can't explain it but just imagine lucien having this home bar cart with all kinds of syrups and fancy alcohols and he cares about the dates on them and pairs the perfect wine with his meals! you can give him any three words that'll describe the drink you want and he'll mix it all up and it will taste amazing!
tamlin:
-GIRL DAD! imagine him taking her out to buy dresses for anything she needs, putting little flowers in her ear when they go on walks together, doing tea parties with her. tell me you don't see this. i dare you.
-usually gets up pretty early to go and do his high lord duties but he will come and check on you throughout the day, giving you kisses and treats and notes! he always wants to spend meals with you and will stop anything he's doing if alis tells him that you're ready to eat lunch! you've never seen a man set the table faster and pat the seat next to him.
-any room in the house that you want will be yours! if you want one of the guest bedrooms to be turned into a craft studio, done. if you want a section of the library dedicated to romance books, done! i'm serious when i say he'd give you anything you want to make sure his home is just as comfy for you as it is for him.
amren:
-values alone time just as much as she values time with you. she likes when the two of you can spend time inside doing your own thing but then can come back together at night and talk about your days! she's not ashamed to ask if she can spend the night in her bed because she's had a long day! but she's always reassuring you that it has nothing to do with you so you don't worry!
-probably isn't a very big kid enjoyer but wouldn't mind adopting someone older! or, even better, a cat! amren would spoil the hell out of a cat that you raise together. "am, i don't think she needs another sweater. she doesn't like wearing them anyway." "but this one says be paw-sitive!"
-people don't believe you when you talk about how soft and sweet amren is when you're at home! they don't think that she's capable of hugging you tight and covering you in kisses but she is! she's a private gal and you respect that entirely! but you also can't help telling mor about all of the sweet things she whispers to you as you're falling asleep.
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doodle-pops · 7 months
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House of Fingolfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them
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A/N: This takes place in Valinor, in a no–darkening verse and arranged marriages are common traditions among the elves. By now, I'm considering this an AU within the Silm verse with all the ideas that’s been swimming in my mind after writing each headcanon (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Warnings: feelings of neglect and loneliness, resentment, disputes, there is some comfort, angst because it's an arranged marriage
Arranged Marriage AU: Arafinweans ver.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingolfin
Fingolfin strongly resents being told what to do. However, if complying benefits his family and upholds his royal status as an exemplar for princes, he will reluctantly follow through. In this context, he would have no significant objections to an arranged marriage.
He genuinely believes in his father’s good intentions and considers his mother’s agreement as final. Fingolfin would attentively attend the meeting, listening to the criteria and rationale for the arrangement while occasionally glancing at your disheartened expression.
Initially, he might struggle to comprehend why you don’t view the situation as a win–win, given that you’re marrying a prince and about to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. The notion of being forced into this or having a lover only dawns on Fingolfin when his younger brother or a friend brings it up.
He’s determined to make the relationship work and hopes you won’t be confrontational or resist connecting with each other. Your reluctance to make things work is a source of frustration for him, but his pride prevents him from complaining to others.
But it is important to keep in mind that as much as he’s fighting you to make this work, he is respectful of your boundaries and personal space.
“I may have been slow to realise your reservations about the arrangement, but may I ask that you at least attempt not to distance yourself when all I want is for this to go smoothly? Yes, we will be married soon, but I’m not suggesting a romantic involvement, just a basic level of cooperation to ease the tension, please.”
He’s eager to make the arrangement a success because he sees it as essential for his role as a prince and a way to outshine his older brother. In Fingolfin’s perspective, this is a competition, albeit unfortunate for you.
You must assert that for this relationship to work, it shouldn’t be a platform for competition or jealousy, but rather something mutually beneficial and meaningful. You seek a partner you can rely on and trust, while he desires a confidant.
Despite the challenges, you enjoy a royal lifestyle with extravagant parties, balls, and dinners, access to the finest materials and food, a luxurious house designed to your liking, and any other desired indulgence. Fingolfin explicitly mentions that the house was created with your preferences in mind in hopes of ensuring some form of comfort is achieved.
An added benefit of the relationship is Fingolfin’s trust in your abilities as a mediator and leader. As a means to enhance communication, he gradually opens up and seeks your advice in the hopes of strengthening the arrangement.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingon
Initially, when the news was broken to him, Fingon found it all rather amusing. He doubled over and laughed in his father’s face, thinking it was some kind of joke. It took a while for the seriousness of the situation to sink in, and he soon realised that this was no laughing matter. Fingon is a free–spirited individual who believes in choosing when to marry, not never for political reasons, as was the case in this instance.
When you’re in the room, Fingon prefers to keep his anger in check and maintain a pleasant demeanour, as he doesn’t want to frighten you. He’s well aware that you had no say in this decision, and his father is the only one he has an issue with.
The sorrowful look on his face when he meets your eyes is heart–wrenching, as both of you are victims of politics. Despite the circumstances, he does his best to shield you from the harsh reality and maintain the illusion of a simple friendship.
Among all his siblings and his father, Fingon is undoubtedly the most agreeable elf to be married to. Despite his inner turmoil and his father’s constant pressure to make the relationship work, he remains cheerful and amiable in your company, ensuring your comfort throughout the entire engagement.
However, in the early days of the marriage, he was the complete opposite of his usual self, largely due to your reserved nature. He was distant and mostly silent as he grappled with controlling his temper, trying to figure out how to make the relationship work.
If he’s going to be your husband against his will, he’s determined to be the best one you could hope for. Do you require your space? You got it. Do you not wish to see or speak to him? He’ll respect it. Do you want him to stop pretending that everything’s perfect? You’ll get that as well, although it may not be what you expect.
“You might be expecting me to shout, scream, or completely ignore you. I couldn’t bring myself to do any of that, though, as it’s not how my mother raised me to behave when I’m dissatisfied... I understand that you see through the façade I put up; it’s mostly to get my father off my back. But it’s not an act when I’m around you.”
Count on Fingon to make your forced marriage bearable and tolerable. He alleviates the typical anxiety associated with arranged marriages by filling it with unconditional love, support, appreciation, and trust. He never lets the burden fall on you and always stands by your side, ready to defend you.
One thing he won’t tolerate is anyone belittling your role as his spouse, whether it’s from your family or his. He respects your choices and ensures that you’re comfortable before engaging in anything personal.
Fingon never rushes you into anything uncomfortable and allows you to make decisions, trusting your judgment and revealing his vulnerability. He sees this as a hopeful approach to overcoming the arranged marriage label that hangs over your heads.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Turgon
Even if it were his father delivering the news that an arranged marriage was necessary to uphold the family name, Turgon was on the verge of overturning a table and vanishing before his father could reveal your name. However, Turgon knew he wouldn’t get far before being compelled to return home and address the situation.
It was the gloomiest atmosphere in recent memory when he was in the room, glaring at your presence as you entered with your family. The whole ordeal made him feel nauseous, especially when he observed how supportive his mother was in the matter.
Turgon didn’t speak or acknowledge your existence. If you were residing in your preexisting home, you both slept in separate quarters. He even made an effort to become familiar with your schedule to ensure you didn’t cross paths because he wanted to avoid giving the impression of any interest in making things work.
It felt like living alone with a brooding spectre who constantly muttered under his breath as though he was casting a spell. He was quick to anger and often directed his frustration at everyone around him, not just his and your parents. Congratulations, you were arranged to someone who unjustly blamed you.
Like his cousins, you had to assert yourself and demand respect, forcing your voice above his constant grumbling.
“Listen, I’ll make this clear just once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Stop blaming me and direct your frustrations at my parents and yours. We’re in this together whether we like it or not—so accept it and put an end to the complaining, just like I did. We’re going to make this work—we don’t have to share a bed or be best friends, but we should find common ground and understanding. I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, as it’s proven to be pointless, so stop whining and work with me!”
You earned his respect because no one had the audacity to confront him like that without fearing his explosive anger. From that day on, there was a subtle change in the household routine, like not avoiding your schedules and sharing the same space (excluding the bedroom).
Any attempts at conversation were initiated by you, and you had to strain your ears to catch his mumbled responses. When it came to public appearances, he was as stiff as a board and communicated sparingly.
However, it was his instinct to defend you and his family if anyone made disrespectful comments about your situation. That was something for him and you to contemplate, not for others to meddle in, so someone would be put in their place. That night, you saw the most emotion from him apart from his temper.
An incident like that brought you both a step closer to displaying your emotions and feelings, particularly your protectiveness toward him. As simple as it may seem, he wanted to know about your day and if anyone insulted you when you were out. It was a step in the growth of your relationship.
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☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Argon
Argon is fucking bewildered and struggling to comprehend the situation because he’s still a young individual being informed of an arranged marriage he never wanted. He responds with profanity and loud protests until his father intervenes to calm him down.
He despises every moment of it, particularly when he recalls how his cousins and brothers were subjected to the same process. He can’t believe he’s in the same situation despite his strong desire to find love on his own. Even if you were present in the room, his anger blinds him to your concern.
For days to weeks, you two may not exchange words, with occasional glances and stares being the only form of communication. Even after the marriage, he only engages in minimal conversation, ensuring your well–being and comfort in the shared space, though his tone is often filled with bitterness.
Initially, your marriage feels like cohabitating with a mere housemate, as your interactions are limited to household chores. Meaningful conversations based on your interests are virtually non–existent. It would take significant time and effort before either of you musters the courage to address the awkward silence in the house, ideally during breakfast.
“May I speak? No, it’s not about breakfast; it’s about us. We’ve been living like roommates for months, hardly even acquaintances. All we do together is eat and do chores. I know you’re still upset about this arrangement—so am I—but I’d appreciate it if we could replace this white noise with something resembling friendship. We’re already living together, so we’re past the stage of being strangers.”
Argon is genuinely sorry to discover that you desire more meaningful interactions rather than distance, which he had assumed. Your first breakthrough occurs when you jest about his misinterpretation of your gestures, breaking the awkward silence with a touch of Argon’s playful nature.
Following in the footsteps of his eldest brother, he emulates his gestures in the hopes of fostering a deeper connection. Although his emotions make him eager and impulsive, he doesn’t want you to bear the blame for his dissatisfaction.
Eventually, a level of vulnerability emerges in your discussions, allowing both of you to overcome this significant turning point in your lives. More joy and laughter infuse the household as you both express your opinions, views on the situation, and expectations for the future. Given his youth and the wealth of advice he’s received on arranged marriages, he engages in meaningful conversations to ensure you share the same expectations.
He has no intention of subjecting you to the mistreatment that others might inflict on their spouses, placing trust in you and expecting the same in return. For the majority of your marriage, despite lingering awkwardness, you manage to build a friendship with someone who is open and respectful.
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Masterlist
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arctickat2400 · 9 days
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Take Care Of You ∞ Henry Cavill
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Henry Cavill x F!Reader
Warnings: talks of detailed period stuff, negative self talk, normal repetition (*annoyed eye roll*), overall fluff and Henry taking care of Reader (as in the title lol), Henry being literally the best boyfriend ever (as per usual)
A/N: I’ve had notes for this imagine in my Notes app for a while and the day before I started to write it was the second day of my period and it was kicking my ass. So I thought it was finally a good time to write it. Enjoy!
Word Count: 3,448 (aka much longer than it needed to be)
* * * *
Henry had gone to work on his new movie a month ago and he was finally coming home. You wanted to do something special for him, knowing he’s going to be exhausted, and you just wanted to take care of him. Besides, he’s always taking care of you, so why not give him a break every once in a while if he’d let you?
However, your plans hadn’t turned out the way you wanted them to. Your period had come in the middle of the night, resulting in very little sleep. You had things you needed to do, but it was kicking your ass and all you wanted to do was curl up and not get up for the next several days. That wasn’t an option, though.
Your apartment was a mess, and although Henry doesn’t live with you permanently, he’s at your apartment a majority of his time when he’s not away filming for a movie or show, so it might as well be his home. You’d prefer it to be clean for him. But your body had different plans - you didn’t want to get out of bed.
When you finally did, you headed to the bathroom to take some Advil for the pain, but you did a double take when you looked in the mirror. Your face was all broken out, your hair was a mess, and you were feeling a bit more insecure about yourself and your body now that you were on your period, although that’s not saying much. You wanted to take a shower, but you could hardly stand due to your raging cramps, the Advil not having kicked in yet, and you decided it best to go back to bed, cleaning yourself up before doing so.
You couldn’t let Henry see you this way. Yes, he’s seen you on your period before. You’ve been together almost two years and he’s always told you how beautiful he thinks you are, on or off your period, clean or dirty hair, acne or no acne (even though no acne was quite rare). Either way, he’s always told you how gorgeous you are no matter how you look.
But your mind was telling you it’s different this time. In the past, Henry’s always been there to help you through it all, to take care of you, if it was at home or while you were on trips with him. But, he’s never come home to you this way, and the fact that it’s hard for you to take care of yourself makes matters worse. He’s coming home expecting one thing, but will come home to something completely different, and quite unattractive (at least in your mind).
So, to take care of matters to the best of your ability, you picked up your phone from your bedside table and texted Henry.
Y/N: Hey, babe. Just wanted to let you know I’m not feeling well and that maybe it’s best for you to head straight to your place when you get home. I should be feeling better in the next couple of days, so I hope to see you soon. 
The original plan was always for him to come see you when he comes home from trips. You wanted so bad to see him, more than anything. You missed him dearly when he was gone, especially for so long. If it wasn’t for your insecurities, you wouldn’t possibly care if you saw you this way. But, that wasn’t the case this time around. 
You placed your phone back on your bedside table, curling up on Henry’s side of the bed, and falling asleep almost instantly.
When Henry got the text right after his place had landed, he knew something wasn’t right. He couldn’t remember the last time he went to his house first before going to see you after a trip. He would always go straight to you and you’d never told him not to come over. 
As an idea popped into his head, Henry opened his calendar on his phone to see what day it was, and surely enough, just as he’d predicted, it was your time of month. That’s what was so great about him, it was his real life super power: Henry knew every little thing about you.
Henry couldn’t possibly just leave you alone in your time of need. He wants to come and take care of you if you want him to or not. So, he texts you back.
Henry: My beautiful baby, I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well. Let me come take care of you. I’ll be there shortly, my love.
But, by the time he’d texted back, you’d already passed out again from exhaustion, missing his text. 
Henry decided to stop by the store on his way home to pick up a few things for you. He didn’t want to make you mad by coming over when you told him not to, but he knew the reason why, and therefore he’s justified because he just wants to take care of his baby. Plus, he hasn’t seen you in a month and he hates being away from you for long periods of time. If he’s able to see you, he won’t hesitate to do so. He prefers for you to go with him on trips, and you feel the same way, but you both know you had your job and responsibilities at home that prevented you from going with him. Henry was grateful, though, for the times you are able to go with him. 
Finally pulling up to your complex, Henry took all of the grocery bags and his suitcase from the trunk and made his way up to your loft. Using his key to get in, all the bags in one hand, he set his suitcase by the door and toeing off his shoes before guiding himself into the kitchen and quietly setting the grocery bags on the island, knowing you had to have been asleep after not having texted him back. You were usually very efficient in texting people back. 
Making his way upstairs, Henry spotted your sleeping body on his side of the bed. He knew you loved sleeping on his side when he was gone because it smelled like him. He knelt down beside you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and brushing his thumb over your cheek before placing a sweet kiss to your temple. He stood to go back downstairs, putting away some of the groceries, keeping the stuff for you out on the counter. Henry, then, decided to make you something to eat for when you wake up, knowing you probably forgot to eat before going back to sleep. 
Meanwhile, still half asleep, you hear some clanging of dishes downstairs and your eyes pop open wide. Quickly, you rush out of bed and downstairs, only to find Henry in the kitchen with an apron on (you would laugh if it wasn’t for the adrenaline pumping through your veins), food on the stove, groceries on the counter, and no dishes in the sink (which you’d meant to wash before but now they were gone). The kitchen was clean, and, unless you cleaned in your sleep, Henry had done it all for you and you felt even worse now than before. 
“Henry, what in God’s name are you doing here?” You startled him as he whipped his head around, his eyes wide in surprise. 
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was trying to be quiet and trying so hard not to wake you. I know it’s your time of the month and I know you said not to come over, but,” Henry walked up to you, placing his hands on your waist, brushing his thumbs over your tummy. “I just couldn’t go home knowing I could be here taking care of my precious girl. I couldn’t stand by and leave you to deal with the pain all alone,” Henry finished, a sweet smile on his lips.
You loved Henry with all your heart and loved that he wanted to take care of you despite more than likely being extremely tired from filming and his trip home. But the fact that you knew how you looked right now made tears well up in your eyes as you stared into his. The other fact, unknown to you, was that all Henry could see was his magnificent girlfriend who would never cease to look anything short of stunning to him no matter what. 
“Honey, what’s wrong? Does your stomach hurt? What can I do?” He panicked. If you weren’t so aware of your mind going haywire, you would have chuckled at his absolute need to take care of you. 
You fell into tears, turning away from him and heading back up the stairs. Henry took his apron off, hanging it on the back of a chair at the island before chasing after you. “It’s just that I looked absolutely horrendous. I’m still in my pjs, I haven’t had it in me to shower, I feel and look disgusting, I’m all broken out, and I’m just feeling all out insecure.” You say, sitting on the recliner in the corner of the room, placing your face in your hands, hiding from Henry who knelt down in front of you, his hands on either of your thighs. “And I was supposed to wake up this morning and clean, and I had a plan to take care of you today for once ‘cause I know you’ve got to be exhausted, but I ended up just falling asleep again, and you’re just so amazing and you’re always taking care of me. I just feel like such a bad girlfriend, and I… I…”
Henry took your hands from your face, holding them in his, making you look at him. “Baby, it’s okay. I don’t need anything more than to come home to you. And if that means being able to take care of you when you’re having a hard time, I’m more than happy to do so ‘cause I love you and I love more than anything to take care of you,” Henry smiles up at you as you sniffle. “And as for your comment about how you look, you know how I feel about that and you saying those things about yourself. It is impossible for you to ever look anything less than stunning to me. So don’t ever hide away from me. That would just deprive me of your beauty and we can’t have that now, can we?” Henry chuckled, pulling a short snicker from you, as he brushed his finger over your cheek to catch a tear. 
“Now, please let me take care of my baby girl. I bought you a few things from the store that I hope will make you feel better,” Henry smiled, taking your hands in his and lifting you from the chair. “Didn’t know what you needed so I just got you some extra supplies, as well as a bunch of chocolate and some food you crave around this time. Plus a little something special,” Henry turned to you as he led you down the stairs and winked at you, making a red blush rise to your cheeks. To this day, even after two years of being together, he never ceases to make you blush. 
Leading you to the island and lifting you up by the waist to sit on top, Henry pulled a bouquet of red roses from the pile of groceries, handing them to you. How you didn’t notice them before, you didn’t know. But they were so beautiful and he was so sweet for the precious gift. 
Henry stood between your legs, his hands on either side of your hips. “Henry, they’re gorgeous. Thank you,” You placed the flowers down beside you as you pulled Henry in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling him in for a much needed hug.
“Welcome home, my love. I’m sorry that’s not the first thing I said to you,” You smiled, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “I was just very surprised to see you and I was too in my head. Didn’t realize what really mattered was right in front of me.”
“That’s quite alright, my darling. Never need to apologize. I’m just happy to be back home with you in my arms,” Henry pulled you in for another kiss. “Now, I made you lunch and your favorite dessert - brownies,” He winked at you. How you didn’t smell them before either was beyond you, but the sparkle in your widened eyes and smile sent Henry into laughter as you licked your lips. 
“Let’s get some food and water into that adorable belly of yours, shall we?” Henry placed his hands on your waist as he bent down to press a kiss to the sliver of belly beneath your tank top, making you giggle, your hand brushing through his hair. 
Henry was obsessed with your belly. You never understood why, but you guessed it might have something to do with that fact that you’ve never been a big fan of it yourself, always being insecure about it and the extra fat that’s accumulated there. He just wanted to love the parts of you that you didn’t like so that you may learn to love it all like he does. And his love for it and the constant attention has allowed you to hate it just a bit less and you were grateful for him and his love for you, not just your body.
“Then, I’ll get to taking care of my beautiful baby,” Henry smiled and kissed your forehead. And he did just that. After eating, Henry picked you up koala style (your favorite way to be held by him) and carried you upstairs and into the bathroom. Setting you down on the countertop again, he went to turn on the shower to the temperature of your liking. 
Henry came back to help you undress, lifting your tank top over your head and sliding you off the counter before taking off your underwear.
Just then, tears stung your eyes as a wave of pain struck your lower stomach and your insecurities started to come back again.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on, baby? Are you okay?” Henry questioned, his hands cupping your cheeks to lift your face to look into his concerned eyes. But you couldn’t meet his eyes as you let out a cry, your arms covering your stomach. 
“I’m so sorry. It just hurts and all of this is just so disgusting and your shouldn’t have to deal with this…” You cried and Henry followed your line of sight to your blood filled pad. He knew what you were talking about, but he didn’t understand why you were so upset about it. 
“Baby, look at me,” He placed his finger under your chin to make you look at him. “I’m here for it all. There is nothing to be sorry about. This is all normal and I know that. There is nothing disgusting about it and nothing to be embarrassed about. I hate that you’re in pain and I wish that I could take it from you. That’s why I want to be here to help you and I will be here to help you in any way I can. I will do all the heavy lifting. Just let me take care of you and it will all be okay.” Henry explained to you so it would be ingrained in your head, sympathy in his eyes. You nodded and let out a whispered thank you, not trusting your voice just yet after the tears. Henry offered a sweet smile and a kiss to your head before you went to take care of your female things while he undressed himself, ready to join you in the shower, wanting to wash off his flight. 
Henry took your brush and started running it through your hair gently, getting all the tangles out. He, then, followed you into the shower, closing the glass door behind him. Your body instantly relaxed once the hot water hit your back and shoulders. It was even better when Henry came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned back against him, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. 
“You’re so wonderful, Henry. I hope you know how much I appreciate you. You never cease to show me just how much you love me and I love you so much, darling.” You look up over your shoulder at him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other coming up to stroke your cheek. 
“And I love you, my precious girl. I hope you know I will never stop. I can’t imagine a world where I could ever stop loving you. There is not a single thing that could take my love away from you. And that is how it will always be,” Henry smiled a small smile, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, crading your head in his hand. 
After Henry washed your hair and body and helped you shave your legs (this man’s a freaking saint), he got out first to allow you to enjoy a few more moments of warm water on your tense muscles. Meanwhile, he went to get you and him some comfy clothes while also running downstairs to grab your supplies from the kitchen. 
You opened the glass door to be met with Henry, his towel tied around his waist, holding your own fluffy towel out for you to walk into as he wrapped it around your body. He helped you dry off before getting himself dressed while you went to put in a tampon. Turning to see him shirtless and in a pair of gray sweatpants, just as you like him, you meet Henry in the middle. He knelt down to pull your underwear up your legs, a pad already set up inside, and pulled his Royal Marines hoodie over your head. It was your favorite hoodie because it was his. It always smelled like him and felt like his hugs for whenever he couldn’t be there to hold you.
Henry took your towel and ruffled it through your hair to dry it a bit, making you laugh. He loved your laugh and it never ceased to make him smile. Twisting your hair and clipping it at the top of your head, Henry picked you up in his arms and carried you to bed. Laying you down gently against the pillows, “Get comfy, sweetheart. I’ll be right back,” Henry leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, smoothing the hair back from your forehead, before leaving to go downstairs. You took the remote from your bedside table and turned on the tv to Man of Steel. It was your favorite comfort movie. What could you say? Did it have to do with the impossibly handsome man currently in your kitchen? Maybe. 
Soon enough, Henry came back upstairs with a tray of items in his hands - a plate of four generously sized brownies, your Owala water bottle, two Advil pills, and a bowl of cut up strawberries. You smiled at just the sight of such a spectacular man (in more ways than one) coming toward you as he placed the tray on your right side before climbing into bed on your left (you sleep on the right and Henry sleeps on the left). Henry pulled the covers over your legs and pulled you into his side. 
He made sure you drink plenty of water, always making sure you were properly hydrated, and ate the snacks he brought up, having heard your tummy make noises just after getting out of the shower. You took the Advil as well, hoping to keep the cramps at bay if you kept on the medicine. 
Once you were done with the brownies (two for you and two for Henry), you slid down to lay your head on Henry’s chest, your legs pulled up over his. He held you tight against him, one arm around your back and the other rubbing your belly. Being back in Henry’s arms made you feel so safe and secure, and you were so comfortable, you began to drift off. Your eyes became heavy, the toil of your emotions and hormones getting the best of your.
Henry looked down to see you struggling to stay awake. “Sleep, my love. It’s alright. I’ll be here when you wake,” He brushed his fingers through your hair, soothing you into a deep sleep in the warm embrace of the love of your life.
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peachesofteal · 9 months
Note
What happens when this guy is mean to darling? Shutting her down? It could be something small.
Darling is getting excited bc she’s talking about some work trip she won and she gets to take her family, and she’s so excited to take the baby away and get some fresh air on a beach somewhere (Simon over hears and packs that away for later. Johnny doesn’t because he’s too busy eyeing this man down) just for dude to interrupt darling, “you can’t travel with an infant. You have to stay home, you’re a parent now. That’s your life” or some shit. Maybe even an “ah you’re a little loud right now, let’s take the volume down.”
Or maybe.. maybe it’s a jealous remark. “Taking your baby daddies too? Or wait..which one is the dad?” Dudes been noticing the tension and maybe he doesn’t handle it well.
either way.
You sink back into yourself a little.
It’s Johnny who cracks. Simon can’t get his hands on him fast enough before Johnny is shoving at this guy.
“Mind repeating that? You’re not gonna talk to her like that.”
Fight ensues. You send dude home because this is a family matter now.
And honestly? Simon has always been a pillar of strength and control. But Johnnys ability to act on emotion and instinct is what makes him such a good man. The man you fell in love with. He’s been struggling and hurt and missing you and how can you stay mad at him? Simon is a planner and has the patience but Johnny is more hot headed.
“When are you going to realize, we’re not going anywhere, darling, I am not going anywhere. You deserve to be treated like gold. And that guy? He ain’t it. He ain’t it because he ain’t me. Ain’t us.”
So darling and Johnny have it out. This confrontation has been needed for a while. Simon just watches, waiting to see if he has to step in. But oh Johnny.
He’d rip out his heart and lay it at your feet if you asked him. He hates this feeling. Hates not being with you and Simon together the way it should be.
His break down is what gets darling to crack a little bit. How can one deny the honesty in such a brazen display of emotion?
So a chance is offered. This little work vacation. Maybe… they can try and see how they’d function as a family. Together. Morning routines and night routines with baby. How they navigate it. If it doesn’t work? Then nope. But if it does?
Maybe their paradise could last forever then huh?
(My southern accent is coming out while writing this, xcuse me)
God yes. I love this. I could indulge in this scenario all day long.
Takes place after one of my favorite asks in the au'verse, here. (bartender anon come back to me)
18+ / disco baby au / mature themes
"Wait, you're taking Bee with you to this conference?" Your boyfriend blinks incredulously, like you hadn't already told him the same information, three times already. Twice last week. Once this week.
"Yes, I told you... the other day, remember?"
"No." He scoffs. "How are you going to manage a baby at a work conference?"
"It's a floor expo, so it's not like I'll be in lectures or anything. Bee will just come along in her carrier, and I'll get to show her the beach for the first time. I know it's going to be a lot but I've been preparing, getting her more used to the carrier and stuff. We’re really excited!" You were over the moon about it. You hadn't been to a beach in so long, and to be able to take your daughter for the first time had you brimming with excitement. You couldn't wait to put her feet in the ocean, let her feel sand. Provide her with all new experiences, watch her learn them and grow.
"And your boss is just okay with you taking your baby, on a work trip?" His voice pitches louder, and you inwardly wince when the conversation that's carrying on in the room slams to a stop.
"Well, yeah."
"You asked her?"
"Kind of, I mentioned that I was going to bring Bee along, and-"
He cuts you off with your name, sharp, and too loud, before sighing.
"You can be so stupid sometimes. You just... never think things through. All emotion and no logic. You really think you can handle that? A baby at a convention? You cry over getting stuck at red lights." The words sting, but they don't surprise you, and you’re about to snap back at him when there's a noise over your shoulder, the sound of your baby, followed by the grind of a deep Manchester accent.
"What's going on in here?" Fuck.
Simon's holding Bee, big hand supporting her back but she's sitting up, face tucked against his chest, thumb in her mouth. She's watching you, tired, waiting for the hand-off from dad to mum, and as it happens, Simon speaks again.
"Darling, take Bee onto the porch." He instructs, and no matter what you do, you can never fight your body and brain's instant willingness to do as he asks.
"Simon, I-"
"Please." He nods, big hand warm on his daughter's back, before it slides down to linger across your forearm. The touch is fleeting, barely there, but it feels like so much more.
You want to say no, want to tell him he doesn't need to get involved, that you're okay, when-
Johnny steps around the blockade that is Simon's body, and launches himself at your boyfriend.
Your shock stopgaps your throat, and then you screech.
"Johnny, stop!" Bee immediately starts crying, a high pitched scream that breaks down into tears. Adrenaline flushes your body, and you stare at him wordlessly. Johnny, who's been cold and distant. Johnny, who's been weird around you. Johnny, who struggles to even make eye contact with you sometimes now, is jumping your boyfriend. In your own house.
"Ye just call her stupid?" His fingers tighten around the shirt collar that’s clutched in his grasp, and your boyfriend sputters.
"Get off me, you fuckin' psycho!"
"I'll show ye psycho, ye piece of shite."
"Take Bee outside, right now." Simon commands, and you spin on your heel, slipping out the sliding door and onto the porch, bouncing your baby as you rock her, soothing her back to her sleepy self.
You ease Bee's bedroom door closed as quietly as you can, clinching it shut without stirring her, your only success in an evening that's gone horribly, awfully wrong.
Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you have no doubt it's your boyfriend again, seething with rage at being thrown out of your house after you insisted he leave so you could... address certain things.
Why did he say that? What caused that? What made him so upset with you? And what the fuck happened with Johnny?
Simon is sitting on your living room couch, thighs splayed wide, wider than necessary, if you're being honest, while Johnny paces with his arms crossed.
He's also seething mad, boiling with rage, with emotion, and you're not looking forward to any of the conversations you're going to have to now.
Life could have been a lot easier if you had fallen for only one guy, instead of two.
"Look-"
"No."
"Johnny, take a breath." Simon murmurs, and he does, letting it out in a long sigh before turning to face you fully.
"I am sorry, for the way I acted earlier. Ye didn't deserve that, Bee shouldn't have seen it."
"Well, she's a baby so let's hope she doesn't remember." you deadpan, and he frowns before continuing.
"But, I am not sorry for clocking that fuckin' bawbag, and I'd do it again for ye, do it as many times as I had to until ye realize the truth of things."
"Johnny-"
"I know I've been distant. I've been struggling, standoffish. I've been upset, I felt hurt that ye had our baby and never even called us, darling. Never even tried." Rage simmers in your blood.
"You fucking left me!" You snap, and he holds his hands up.
"We did. And I realize now, that my anger was misplaced. That I-"
"You gave me the cold shoulder, Johnny. You wouldn't even hold Bee at first."
"I know, I know. I was lost. And I should've realized earlier, how bloody stupid I was. How much of a fool I was bein'. I love ye, darling. I'm so, so sorry." He stares at you, eyes wide, and you look between him and Simon helplessly.
Simon just shrugs.
"You already know how I feel, 've told you a million times. You're it for me, for us. You and our baby. You're the only family we'll ever need, ever want. You know why we left, why we made the decisions we did. We can't go back and change it, but we can try to move forward."
"And-" Johnny jumps in, but his voice cracks, and you realize he's crying, hands mashed together as they shake. "I know ye don't want to let us in too much, because it's frightening. That we hurt you, that it doesn't matter why we did what we left. But we love you, darling. I love ye, so much. Just give us a chance, please."
"Let us come with you, on the trip." You laugh at Simon, immediately, but he looks at you with full seriousness. "You said it yourself, it will be a lot. Let us come, help with Bee. Spend some time together, see if it could work."
Could you? Would you?
No. They left you, remember? They dumped you. Why-
Your heart flutters and you can't help it, the wash of longing that swamps you. Johnny stares at you so earnestly, his emotions so raw, and it nags at you, reminds you of everything you had. Everything you lost.
What if you did try?
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its-warm-in-here · 4 months
Text
Teeth
Oh hell, I'm writing again. Let's see if this has legs, maybe I'll write a follow-up.
Alastor x !DeerDemon! Reader
Warnings: imbalance of power, cannibalism
The fact that he’s humming is the opposite of comforting. 
Alastor’s room was, even compared to the rest of the hotel, bizarre. The whole foyer resembles a hunting lodge, complete with roaring hearth, mounted antlers and furniture made of bone. Nervous, you shift from hoof to hoof in the entryway, tail straight up and hair on end. If you crossed this precipes, you’d be in the lion's den. No matter how much he resembled other cervid sinners. This demon had killed and devoured countless others, and based on his furnishing, he had a particular fondness for deer. Instead of ending in a wall or window, the back of the room gives way to another realm.  Like someone had punched a forest into the inbetween space of the hotel walls. You wonder how far back it went, or if there was even an end. 
A staticky wail from the gramophone snapped you back to reality. The sound gave way to easy jazz and Alastor turned the music down a bit, that ever-present smile playing on his wide mouth. “No need to be shy, my deer. This shouldn't take more than a moment.” With a lip worry, you hesitate. Sure you’d said yes to this, but you’d expected a quick bite, just a sample, not whatever this performance was. Was he trying to put you at ease? Because he’s failing spectacularly. “Besides, it's quite rude to linger in doorways. Especially when you’ve already been invited in.” 
With one last breath, you step into the room. Its distinctly cooler than the hallway even with the fireplace. It is probably due to having a literal forest embedded into it, but it makes you shiver. Still humming, Alastor loops around, shutting the door behind you and ushering you further into his abode with a hand at your waist. “I just...have never done anything like this before,” you mumble. He seats you at one of the two chairs. You’re pretty sure that the leather is elk hide. You hope it is an elk at least. Elks are assholes. 
“Neither have I. Invigorating, isn't it?” Alastor chirps. Once more, he circles around, stripping that ever present, pinstripe coat off and draping it over the opposite seat. It catches you off guard, you’ve never seen him without it. Hell, you doubt that anyone in the whole hotel had ever seen him without it. Though, Alastor is hardly vulnerable. If anything, you’re even more unsettled than before. As if this was a relaxing experience for him. It's just a quick glance, just before he turns to face you, but you swear you spot the tuft of a red tail at the top of his trousers. That makes your stomach twist. Since arriving in the Pride Circle, not once could you have ever considered consuming another conscious being, let alone one that was alive and in the same vein of sinner. 
Yet, Alastor seemed to revel in it.
Bouncing your knees, your hooves send a steady tapping rhythm through the room. “I don't know if I'd use those words exactly.” 
“No need to be nervous. Im not set to devour you whole,” his hand comes to rest over your clasped fingers. The bouncing halts. “Never in all my time in Hell have I seen a sinner with quite an impressive regenerative ability. A little nip here-” fingers tuck your hair behind your ear, exposing the junction where your neck met your shoulder, “-will heal up in an instant.” 
You rub the skin he’s touched, finally meeting those red eyes of his. “There’s a bit of a difference from getting hit by a drunk driver, peeling myself up like road kill and letting an overlord munch on me though.” Alastor’s eyes flash. This activity excited him far more than it should in your humble opinion. 
“Well, if its boundaries that worry you, we can always make a deal instead, hm?” he leers, knowing full well that the deal might give some ground rules for whatever this fucked up relationship was, but would give him even more sway over you. 
Jerking back, you jab him in the chest, “We’re starting with one bite. Don't push your luck, Alastor.” 
He smiles, stands, then shrugs, “Well, let's get started then.” 
With a huff, you undo the top few buttons of your dress shirt and half yank off the sleeve, wanting to avoid any unnecessary mess. Cool hands close over your shoulders and the skin to skin contact makes you jump. For someone who hated being touched, Alastor sure loved to make others uncomfortable using his own. There’s a flash of teeth and you feel the fringe of his hair at your cheek, then a moment of hesitation. It's in that you realize he’s smelling you. Anyone else this could be intimate, romantic even, but the underlying motivations are all the wrong kind of carnal. “If we're doing this can we--” 
Alastor bites down, sharp teeth cutting deep into the meat of your shoulder. It's a sharp pain and a cry builds in your throat. You press your palms flat to his chest, ready to heave the Radio Demon off with all your strength. There's a swift pull at your flesh. You try to scream, letting the pain out, but Alastor’s hand closes over your mouth, muffling the cry. Scrambling  further back in the chair, you try to cover the new wound, but Alastor still has you in a vice grip. His eyes are gently closed as he chews, small noises of pleasure like someone enjoying the first bite of a luxurious meal. God, it makes your stomach turn. The sheer amount of delight he was getting from literally eating you alive. 
Still you can't help but wonder... How... do you taste? 
The vial thought is pushed to the side the moment Alastor leaned in for seconds. “Whoa, hey!” you shove back, “One bite, we said one!” His teeth are already primed against your shoulder, pricking torn flesh, but he retreats, smug smile spread firmly in place. Best you can, you glance at your shoulder. It's a jagged bite, stretching from the line of your collarbone to the top of your trapezius exposing muscles and tendons. But not deep enough to reach bone. The wide gash is already beginning to knit itself together and the pain is fading with it. Letting out a breath, you fall back in the chair.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Alastor teases, tracing his thumb over the edge of the wound, threatening to jab the digit in. You swat his hand away and shoot a glare up at him. With a huff, you yank the sleeve back up and do your best to ignore the self-satisfied overlord. 
“That hurt, you know,” you snap, righting your outfit.  
“I barely broke skin!” Alastor insists with a sing-song voice, “And I doubt my nibble was much worse than that oncoming truck.” His tongue traces the line of his teeth. “That was quite a toothsome treat, my deer. Maybe next time we could make a full meal of it.” 
“Next time...” your mind wanders to how much that could hurt and if there even should be a next time. The words are under your breath but his ears prick up at the utterance. 
“If you’re interested in continuing with this little arrangement, that is,” he interjects.”But what kind of a deal maker would I be if I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.” Right! The whole reason you’d agreed to this whole verbal agreement in the first place. You hop to your feet, a playful smile spreading over your face. “So what’ll it be? Now, don't expect much from our little understanding, but I'm a man of my word. One simple request that is in my power, is yours.” Alastor gives his microphone/cane a twirl before his gaze narrows, testing you.
Lots of things spring to mind. A bigger room at the hotel. A dance. Something to prank Angel Dust with. All the while you ponder, Alastor stoops, bending at the waist to make sure you knew you were being watched. A mistake on his part. Staring him dead in the face, you match his cheshire cat grin. “That's because I did this as a favor. I don’t need anything.” 
“Come now, I’m offering this as a courtesy.” 
“Afraid I'd hold something over you, Alastor?” you tease. He’s dangerously close now. Smug. Your lips twitch, but your smile stays glued. The miniscule respect he had in this moment would evaporate the moment it fell. “Well, I suppose there is one tiny thing I do want.” 
Your hands dart to the top of his head, and fingers close over his ears. They are stiff but bend with a bit of pressure, and the fur is soft even as it bristles at your touch. For a moment, a breath is held and Alastor does not react, frozen in place. Then the world around shifts. Darkness closes in tight and any breath leaves the room. The gramaphon's soft music swells to an ungodly static. The corners of Alastor’s mouth twitch into an impossibly broad, neon grin, and the air around you buzzes with raw energy. The red of his eyes deepen to pitch black aside from two pinpricks of dial shaped irises. He does not move, but his shadow shifts, reshaping into something awful on the wall behind. In this moment he could snuff out your hellish existence. 
Oh, to wield such power. 
And you let go. Arms go up in surrender and you retreat a few steps. “And we're even.” 
Just like that, the room snaps back. The strange cold ebbs away as pine and fire rush back into your nostrils. Your host relaxes, stepping back towards the exit and leveling a judging eye. It's a quick flourish, and his jacket is back in place. All the walls are back up. Alastor's face turns down just a touch before settling to a sly smirk and then he bends in a half bow. Not low enough to make you feel respected, but enough to put an end to the interaction. Your smile turns to pride as you mime the gesture. “That was surprisingly pleasant, all things considered,” you muse as you strut past him. Alastor may have finally gotten a chunk off you, that’d been something he’d been craving since you’d arrived in this place. 
But you’d gotten something no one else ever had and lived. 
Before you can step out of the room, Alastor’s hand closes over your forearm and you freeze. Terror courses through your veins. While there was no killing in the hotel, that didn't mean a powerful overlord couldn’t trap you in some pocket-torture dimension for overstepping. “I would suggest keeping this little exchange between us, hmm?” Nails bite into the meat of your arm, almost as sharp as his teeth. That grin is ever present, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. A threat. 
You chew the inside of your cheek. Sure Charlie and Vaggie allowed for a few vices in the hotel, but this would probably be at the bottom of their list for team building activities. “Understood,” you say with a curt nod. 
Alastor’s fingers drum once and he releases you. “Lovely,” the charismatic note bounces back into his voice, “Now, what do you say to some etouffee? It might be a bit early in the day but after that little appetizer, I’m positively ravenous for something more substantial.” With that, he sweeps past you into the hall.
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