#I don’t like it when people talk to me when I’m doing anything that doesn’t require speaking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slytherinstories · 2 days ago

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SIT DOWN

This is inspired by a TikTok I seen by @blaackaesthetics

Description: Mattheo Riddle is your boyfriend and Theodore Nott his best friend. As much as you love him he doesn’t half get on your nerves with the pair of you always fighting like a cat and dog. In a heavily heated argument Theo tells your boyfriend to get you under control which makes you see red.

18+, Smut

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You, Mattheo and Theo (your boyfriend’s best friend) are currently sitting in the common room. What started as you complaining about his fuckboy ways has turned into a screaming match between you and Theo. Mattheo as usual is caught in between, watching the pair of you with amusement.

The audacity this boy has. You always knew that he was a player and despite your many conversations trying to talk sense into him for the most part you left him to it. That is until he hurt one of your best friends. You warned him, you also warned her but she has always been far too naive. He asked for you to set the pair up, him claiming he won’t do anything to hurt her. For so long you refused until she was practically begging you to. So you have in hoping he doesn’t fuck with her head too much but of course she had to fall for him.

‘Theo I just don’t get how you think you can treat people like that do you not have an ounce of fucking remorse in your body?’

He shrugs his nonchalant attitude grating on you even more ‘she knew what she was getting herself in for.’

‘You never once said it was a one night stand you made out like you liked her back.’

‘Well she read into things I didn’t say any of what she is implying.’

‘You know what girls are like and you still chose to lead her on knowing what would happen.’

He doesn’t even look at you still smoking in his own world unfazed by your complaining. Rage fills you even more how he can act so heartless when you had to sit with your friend whilst she cried for two days straight. You have always been protective when it comes to those you love and he has took it too far. You storm over to were he is sat grab the cigarette out of his hand and put it out on the ash tray ‘fucking listen to me you dick!’

‘What the fuck!’ he shouts standing up and getting in your face ‘don’t ignore me when I am talking to you I told you to not hurt her, are you really that desperate to get your dick wet you had to sleep with the one person I said not to!’ You look him up and down with disgust.

He clenches his jaw rage filling his veins at the way you are speaking to him. No one else dares to and you best believe you are putting him in his place. He gives you a little shove ‘do not talk to me like that, I will do what I want she was the one fucking begging for it.’

You shake your head glaring at him ‘you’re disgusting.’

‘Yeah and little Molly fucking loved…’

‘Argghhh’ you want to punch the smug prick but you opt for your wand instead. You have always been to impulsive and prone to anger so you don’t even have time to think before you are trying to fire a hex his way. Before the words can leave your mouth your wand goes flying out your hand. Mattheo as always keeping a close eye on the situation had said ‘expelliarmus’ without you hearing, damn him and his quidditch reflexes.

‘Fucking control your girl.’ He adds in snidely only making you more angry. ‘Excuse me I don’t fucking need controlling maybe you need to stop being such a filthy manwhore…’ you push him back.

‘All right love that’s enough’ you feel his arms around your waist pulling you back even though you fight him. He pulls you to face him ‘sit down’ he nods head to the couch but you just glare at him. ‘Fine I’ll sit you down’ he plops down onto the couch pulling you onto his lap, his arms around your waist in a death grip.

‘Are you not going to tell him I’m not doing anything wrong.’

Theo looks at you smirking at the fact Mattheo tried to put you in your place ‘Mattheo I’m going to kill him let me go.’

‘Love calm down and you stop antagonising her you prick.’ Theo just gives an innocent smile ‘hey I’m not doing anything was just trying to smoke in peace before I got attacked.’

‘Can you blame me you know it’s the one thing I asked him not to do she’s been heartbroken all week.’

Mattheo nods at you stroking your cheek ‘I know it’s not worth getting angry over you two need to stop arguing.’ He stares deep into your eyes holding you there for a second until you feel yourself relaxing. Your anger dissipates more at his touch and you breathe in getting more comfy on his lap. ‘Good girl’ he says tucking your hair behind your ear.

‘Listen mate did you really have to fuck her out of everyone she did beg you…’

‘I didn’t know she would get so attached you warned her yourself not my fault she is stupid and didn’t listen.’

You try to stand up and charge over to him but you can’t move with your boyfriend’s strength holding you to his chest. Theo just chuckles at this again. He has always known how quick to anger you are and he just loves winding you up. ‘Matt don’t you dare fucking defend him he’s horrible!’

‘Theo’ Mattheo says sternly. He just looks over sighing holding his hands up in defeat not wanting to upset his best friend. ‘All right all right I’m sorry I fucked her can you blame me though I did try and stay away she was practically begging me!’

‘You can apologise to her as well.’

‘No fucking way.’

You look at your boyfriend crossing your arms knowing he will find a way to force Theo to. He just raises his brows at him and Theo huffs ‘For fucks sake, what am I meant to say I’m sorry you like me?’

‘No you say I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way I shouldn’t have led you on and you deserve better anyway because she fucking does I could kill you for making her feel like shit when she deserves the world.’

He sighs ‘listen I could have never gave her what she wanted anyway it was for the best.’

‘Just tell her that then you don’t have to be such a dick about everything and do me a favour and stop going after girls you know will only end up obsessed with you do you need an ego boost that bad?’

He rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek trying to hold back another snarky comment. ‘Fine where is she.’

‘In her common room the last time I seen her.’

‘You want me to go all the way to the Hufflepuff rooms?’

‘Yes I do I don’t want her upset any longer.’

He bounces his leg up and down for a moment ‘Ugh fine’ he storms off out of your common room to find her and you breathe out a breathe of relief.

Your boyfriend slowly lets go of you ‘your not a safety hazard are you anymore love’ he chuckles and you send a sharp glare his way. ‘Why do you always defend him I’m not the one that needs controlling it’s his mouth!’

‘I know but you are both in the wrong I’ve told you that you need to control your temper and listen to me.’

‘Well he deserved what I was about to do to him.’

‘Yeah and what was that?’

‘Iwasgoingtogivehimpigears.’

‘What was that?’

You sigh ‘I was going to give him pig ears’ you mutter.

His jaw drops but a laugh escapes his lips despite himself ‘you’re fucking crazy.’

‘Well he shouldn’t piss me off.’

‘You can’t just go round hexing people love do you want to get expelled?’

‘Stop trying to tell me what to do I’m sick of him telling you to control me what am I a dog?’

‘Y/N’ he warns you but you stand up storming to your room. You know it’s unfair to direct your anger at him but there’s nothing you hate more than being told what to do. You just need some space to breathe and try to calm down. He gives you a few minutes and you sit biting your nails the worst habit you could have.

He eventually makes his way to your room slowly shutting the door and walking over to where you are sat. He tilts your chin up to him. ‘You done yet?’

Despite you and Mattheo both being the most impulsive, anger prone people you both know exactly how to calm the other down. No matter how much you try to push him away he can always put you in your place, bringing you back down from the choking feeling of rage.

You clench your jaw looking away still being too stubborn. ‘Stop acting like you are on his side.’

‘your my girl and he’s my best friend I’m not siding with either of you I told him he was being a dick but you can’t act like that’

You look back at him and he crouches down between your legs hands running up and down your thighs. ‘Am I the one that done it? No so you can drop your attitude right now and stop taking it out on me.’

You breathe in knowing he is right but you can’t admit defeat just yet. You just cross your arms and he rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek. ‘You going to make me get rid of that attitude then?’

‘Fucking brat’ he says as you don’t answer pushing you roughly down on the bed ‘when I tell you to sit down and shut up you fucking listen to me.’

You go to give him a snarky retort but he leans over squeezing your neck ‘you think that’s wise?’ Your mouth snaps shut seeing the look in his eyes. ‘Now are you going to be a good girl and stop being a bitch to me.’

‘Yes.’ You grit out. ‘What was that love?’

‘I said yes.’ You say your tone still being bitchy ‘mhmm not good enough you’re still speaking to me like shit apologise.’

Your jaw drops in disbelief ‘me apologise what the fuck Mattheo it was him…!’

‘You are acting like a fucking toddler apologise for not controlling yourself and clearly not doing what I say.’

You cross your arms ignoring him, your stubbornness always being your worst trait. He looks at you darkly ‘suit yourself.’

He rags of your nickers and skirt ‘act tough all you want we both know I’m in control here it’s about time you acted like it.’

Anticipation runs through your body and a dark part of you just loves seeing him like this, you love being put in your place despite all your protests that you hate being told what to do. ‘You’re going to do exactly what I say understand?’

‘Yes’ you breathe out nearly moaning just off his words. ‘I’m going to do exactly what I fucking please with you and you’re going to take it yeah?’ You nod your head at him. ‘This will teach you right for being such a brat.’

He usually teases you, starting off slow taking his sweet time eating you out. However you can tell this isn’t about his own pleasure or yours it’s a punishment. He dives onto your clit straight away biting and sucking harshly. The pressure is too much and you gasp your back arching ‘Matt!’ You try to pull away or pull his head back but he wraps his arms around your thighs holding them in place ‘Shut the fuck up I don’t want to hear another word.’ He mutters still continuing his attack.

Despite how overstimulating it is after a while of pressure building you feel yourself coming close to an orgasm you tangle your hands in his hair riding his tongue as he continues to eat you out. He must sense it as well because just it was about to wash over you he pulls away wiping his mouth. You gasp ‘Matt what the fuck…’

He climbs over grabbing your throat again ‘I thought I said not another word?’

You let out a half whimper half moan and nod your head. ‘Sorry baby I was so close.’ He chuckles darkly ‘I know and it’s your own fault for disobeying me you’re not finishing until I say so.’

You want to cry, you want to go back ten minutes and change your actions just so he can let you finish. ‘Complain one more time and I’ll stop all together.’ He remains hovering over you eyes locked on yours as he slowly pumps one finger in and out of you. It’s torture and you buck your hips needing more. You want to cry and beg him but you know it will only make it worse if you speak so you take his teasing and bite your lip as hard as you can.

He eventually pulls out all together stripping his clothes off until his dick springs out. He spreads your legs wide teasing your entrance. ‘Look how wet you are I bet you love this don’t you being put in your place.’

‘Don’t worry darling there’s going to be no attitude left in you once I’m done.’ He finally puts himself inside you but he has no mercy. Instantly his pounding in and out your cunt. The pain and pleasure is disorienting and your legs instantly try to close. He growls and pulls them open again ‘open your fucking legs’ you do as he says sobbing as he continues slamming his hips into yours ‘that’s a good girl spread them nice and wide for me.’

He was right he is going to do exactly what he wants to you and all you can do is take it. Your body goes limp, you stop fighting and let the intensity of the feeling take over you. This gives him more room to get even closer to you driving deeper then you thought possible. ‘That’s it take my dick.’ You don’t even try to hold back your moans as the pain starts morphing into pleasure.

‘Apologise now.’

You barely hear him lost in a world of your own until he stops causing you to whimper again grabbing him but he just pins your hands above your head. ‘You want to cum?’ You nod your head frantically ‘Apologise.’

‘I’m sorry Matt.’

‘Mhm’ he says starting to drive back into you ‘what for?’

‘For-for’ you moan as he keeps hitting the spot ‘Matt!’ You scream out trying to convey that you aren’t in the position to be listing our apologies.

‘Come on love spit out’ he just chuckles taunting you. ‘I’m sorry for being a brat and not listening!’

‘Who do you belong to?’

‘You’

‘So you are going to listen to me from now on or the punishment will be a lot worse then this I’ve let you off easy.’

You nod your head just wanting to cum. ‘I’ll be good now Matt… I’m getting close.’

‘Go on them baby cum.’ wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer and slams his hips in and out with a pace you didn’t even think was possible. You are a blabbering mess as you finally finish and tears fill your eyes at you finally being able to release. Matt finishes a couple of minutes later pulling out and you don’t even give him a second before clinging onto him.

‘There’s my girl’ he presses a kiss to your forehead seeing you back relaxed in your usual soft state with him. Who knew it just took him pounding into you to release all that anger.

‘I’m sorry Matt’ you feel tears running down your face being overwhelmed with the emotions running through you. ‘I just get so angry and take it out on you but I love you.’

‘I know baby you took me so well though you were so good.’ He wipes away a few of your tears smiling at you. ‘You have to ignore him though okay and listen to me when I tell you to calm down.’ You nod your head knowing if there is anyone in this earth that has the potential to tame your rage it’s only going to be him.

#harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #fanfic #slytherin boys smut #theo nott #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #smut #theodore nott

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lovecla · 9 hours ago

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EAT YOU LIKE A PREY | luke hughes.

nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, single chapter:

— pair: luke hughes x fmc (mila)

— synopsis: after finding out that her friend, the shy, cute luke hughes has a crush on her, mila decides that she will do anything to make him confess his feelings for her out loud. but what do people say about biting more than you can chew?

— word count: 4.3k

— chapter warnings: lowkey mean softdom!luke, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, size kink and degradation if you dig deep, p in v, fingering, squirting (not super detailed tho), edging, pet names, drinking (just a shot but,) dacryphilia.

from me to you: happy halloween, my loves 🤍 i have a few things to say today so buckle up. 1st of all, thank u so much for 400 followers and 10k likes! this means so much to me, and it’s not about the numbers but about people liking what i write— something that not even i do sometimes. 2nd, thank u all for all the compliments on my smut writing heheh i’m really trying to improve my skills so whenever u guys compliment me i’m like ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა so thank u again. 3rd and last, this is just a single chapter but TM(HTMHC) chapter 5 is already in the making 🤍 this is a lot different from what i’m used to write but i hope it’s still good? lmk what u think 🐰

𖧷

LUKE HUGHES was the sweetest, most adorable guy you have ever met.

Falling for him wasn’t anything out of this world, you were just another person to fall in love with his wholesome personality, and even though you had certain advantages over the other girls— because you knew him personally— you never really did anything.

When Jack told you that Luke had a crush on you— yesterday, literally—, the first thought that came to your mind was: “How?”

He always acted sweet and shy around you, besides treating you with utmost respect and affection. He takes care of you whenever you need, he knows your favorite drinks and your favorite TV shows, knows that when you’re bored you like to watch Disney Channel’s cringe ass shows just to laugh at the actors’ lines.

So him, having a crush on you, wasn’t at all that much of a surprise.

The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it, though? Yeah. That was a big, unexpected surprise.

Now it was Thursday, and while you got ready in your room, and waited for your best friend, Suzy, to pick you up, you thought of ways of making Luke want to confess to you.

You wouldn’t be the one doing it first, no. You had too much pride for that, and with every reason. You were gorgeous, you didn’t need anyone to tell you that. You could say that you’re too much of a princess and you don’t like to run after boys, but in reality, it was just that all of the men you had relations with were just a bunch of assholes.

They wanted you to be the first to make a move, they wanted you to decide where you would have dinner, or what movie you would watch. And that just doesn’t work for you, at least not anymore. You want them to work for getting you, not the other way around.

But with Luke, things were different. You can’t just know that Luke Hughes has a crush on you and not do anything. So you would have to be smart, and make him want to tell you how he feels, without asking him to.

Is this some way of gaslighting?, you ask yourself, applying some more blush to your face, I don’t know. But it has to be done, I guess.

Suzy didn’t take long to get to your house, and you got inside her car, complementing her Snow White costume. Now, you’re even more glad that you spent hours trying to choose the perfect costume for Mercer’s party. Usually, you’d go for something that showed less skin and was more scary than slutty, but something told you that this year you needed a change; and if that change was shortening your skirt and wearing a corset that squeeze your tits and push them up higher, then so be it.

𖧷

“SOMEONE SHOULD’VE told me that Dawson was planning on throwing his Halloween party at a fucking haunted mansion.”

You laugh, getting out of the car and feeling the cold breeze hit your skin, the sight of the tall, dark house in front of you making you shiver.

The party was happening inside a huge mansion that looks like it had been abandoned for years even though you know it’s all just play pretend. The front of it is highly decorated with skeletons, coffins, trash and signs that read:

“YOUR FINAL STOP,” and “WELCOME TO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.”

You thought it was all super funny, while Suzy whined beside you, and held your arm like her life depended on it. Entering the house after showing your ID and giving your name to the security guard at the front door, you saw that the interior is just as decorated as the outside, if not more.

“How much do you think Dawson spent on this?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Suzy started rambling about how he probably spent a lot of money and how there were thousands of people inside the mansion and how you were never going to find Jack or Nico or anyone for that matter because everyone were wearing costumes and makeup and—

“It’ll be fine,” you cut her off, shouting over the loud music. “I mean, are there hundreds of people here? Yes. Will we be able to find them? Very unlikely. But it’s fine, right?”

“I guess?” She cocks her head, her curls going everywhere. “Can we grab something to drink, though? You know I need my daily dose of beer…”

“You’re crazy. But yeah, we can.”

Moving through the sea of bodies, you greeted so many people that your head was starting to get tired. You didn’t even know all of them properly, but since Jack, Quinn and Luke knew so many people, and you were always with them, people said “hi” to you anyway.

Finding the drink section had been like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert, and while Suzy grabbed a can of beer, you had a shot of vodka before grabbing a non-alcoholic drink, wanting to be very aware of your actions through the night.

You got back to walking, listening to Suzy’s long complaints about how much time you spent talking with people she didn’t know and how she wanted to dance.

“Fuck, Mila, this is Drake!” She shouts, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the side, where a bunch of people were dancing.

“I was talking to Elliot, you know,” you shout, laughing.

“I don’t care, baby, this fucking song makes me want to go crazy and make out with you!” Suzy throws her arms up, jumping.

“Baby, that’s the alcohol speaking.” You smile, giving up and moving with the beat.

You need to get done, done, done, done at work, come over

We just need to slow the motion

Don't give that away to no one

Long distance, I need you

You danced with Suzy, not letting your mind think of Luke or anything else. Moving your hips was way easier when you didn’t have to worry about anything.

When I see potential I just gotta see it through

If you had a twin, I would still choose you

I don't wanna rush into it, if it's too soon

But I know you need to get done, done, done, done

Suzy’s hands caressed your body, as she goes to the floor, making you smile as she runs her hands through your bare legs, mouthing the lyrics to the song, singing Drake’s verse with a flirty tone. She got up and you turned around, laughing as you grind your ass on her, placing your hands on your knees and moving your hips while she held your waist, playfully.

I spilled all my emotions tonight, I'm sorry

Rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'

How many more shots until you're rollin'?

While you danced, and while Suzy sang to you and hugged you tight, you felt a weird sensation in your chest. You were constantly getting goosebumps, and the left side of your neck burned. But no matter how much you looked around, you couldn’t find anything weird.

You knew so many people there, you could see Nico, Cole, Matt; and yeah, some of the guys were watching you and Suzy dance but that’s just normal, expected behavior from men.

Until you saw him.

There, standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and holding a typical American red cup, wearing a full black outfit and.

Was that a ghostface mask?

You couldn’t be sure of who was behind the mask, but for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off him— and it looked like neither could he. While you ground on Suzy and danced with her, you made eye contact with the mask, feeling the hair on your arm going up; the hotness that before only covered the left side of your neck, was now running down your body, making you feel warm all over.

Which is weird, so weird.

Suddenly, the lights are off, and now everyone’s screaming with excitement and exhilaration, making you jump slightly, trying to find Suzy’s body. Once you do, you shout at her— or at least at what you hope is her ear.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” She yells back, and you can tell that she’s having a lot of fun for someone who was just complaining about how scary the house looked. “This is so fun!”

“It is, yeah,” you reply, as they turn the lights back on, the music somehow louder and the people even more animated.

“We need to dance more and then,” she gets closer, biting her lips. “I’ll find someone to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

You laughed before moving your body with the next song again, dancing for what felt like hours, but not as thoughtless as you were before, no. Now all you could think of was the man that stood in the corner of the room and that now wasn’t there anymore, vanished as soon as the lights were on again.

Even if you had already looked around the entire room and you were one hundred percent sure that that man wasn’t there anymore, you could feel his presence around you, making your skin crawl with need.

I’m fucked up. Probably.

𖧷

YOU DON’T know where Suzy is.

Sometime between dancing and drinking, she found someone and disappeared like she had never been here in the first place.

You were tired, and you wanted to go back home, but, unfortunately, Suzy was your ride, so you’d have to wait until she’s done to go back to your apartment.

Of course, you could always call a taxi, or even one of the people you knew, or maybe try to call Jack or even Luke—

Luke. You hadn’t thought about him since you arrived at the party, too worried about having fun to even think of doing anything else.

But he’s not here anyway, you find yourself pouting, standing in the middle of the huge, fancy bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror. At least I don’t think so.

But Jack had told you that he would be there, and Jack could be many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. So, Luke probably is here, just hiding in a corner, like he usually did, always the shy boy.

Corner. Man. Black outfit. Ghostface.

Right, you take a deep breath. I’ll try to find him. Maybe I’ll manage to kiss him before leaving.

The thought of kissing Luke motivated you to get past the ocean of people, looking for curly hair and thick thighs. It didn’t help that you didn’t know what he was wearing or who he was with, but you were determined.

You walked the entire first floor, feeling your legs burn with how many steps you had already taken, especially after wearing high heels for so many hours. Luke definitely wasn’t there, and you were starting to feel frustrated.

You went up the stairs, regretting almost immediately. Dawson didn’t just decorate the first floor and the outside of the mansion, but the second floor as well. And if you thought the first floor was bad, this was even worse.

It was empty, it looked worse than the fucking Haunted House at Disneyland, and it was creepy as fuck. You started walking down the hallway, looking around while wrapping your arms around your middle, listening to the muffled sounds from downstairs.

Why isn’t anyone up here?

You walk past closed doors, until you stop in front of the only open one. Curious, you get inside the room, finding out that it was some kind of office: a big, dark wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, with an expensive looking chair behind it, and tons of books decorating the bookshelves against the walls.

A couch decorated the corner, and so did a lamp and a coffee table. You were just about to leave and go back to the party when you saw it— there, laying on the couch, the mask from before.

You hold in a gasp, feeling the left side of your neck burning again.

He’s here, he’s here. He’s here and he knows I’m here too.

“Took you long enough, bunny.”

You let out a scream, turning around to face the same man from before, who was now standing right behind you.

“L-Luke,” breathing fast, you mumble his name. “God, you scared me.”

“Sorry. Not my intention.”

He walks inside the room, sitting beside the mask— his mask.

“It… it was you.” You whisper, eyeing his clothes. The exact same outfit the man who watched you dance with Suzy and made you feel hot all over was wearing.

“Me?” He cocks his head, like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

“You,” you nod. “Downstairs. When I was dancing with Suzy.”

He stays quiet, not saying anything to confirm nor deny.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been looking for you for a while now.” You ask, confused.

“You looked like you were having so much fun,” there’s some kind of sarcasm in his tone, but you can’t really tell why. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun, that’s all.”

Usually, you’d just play around and tell him something funny. But you remembered what Jack said, and you also remembered that you had a plan. Make Luke Hughes confess his feelings for you.

Smiling and walking further inside the bedroom, you start your plan.

“You know you could never ruin my fun,” you say. “I missed you.”

He smirks, spreading his thighs on the couch.

“Yeah?” You nod. “I missed you too. You look cute with your little bunny outfit.”

You give him a little twirl, placing your hands on your hips. “D’you like it? I also think it looks great.”

He hums, before getting up, standing in front of you, his 6’2” figure making you feel small, even though you were 5’4” yourself.

“Why were you looking for me, Mila?”

His tone is so different from what you’re used to. He doesn’t sound sweet and adorable anymore, and for some reason, it has you intrigued. His eyes, looking darker with so little lighting in the room, staring down at you.

“I just wanted to see you. ‘Been a while, no?” Sweetening your voice to the max, you blink twice. “Perhaps we could, I don’t know, have some fun?”

His smile only widens at that, and just when you thought you were about to get what you want, his next words make you freeze.

“Do you think I’m dumb?”

You frown at his words, gulping.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper.

“Bunny, bunny,” he clicks his tongue, stepping closer to you. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I’m not doing anything—”

“I know Jack talked to you,” he whispers. “He isn’t exactly subtle. And I’ve seen you with boys before. You use those pretty, sweet eyes to make them fall for you, do whatever you want, beg for just a little bite. Am I wrong?”

You bite your lips, holding the hem of your skirt, looking for some kind of support. Luke’s breathy voice makes all of your tiredness leave your body.

“I asked you a question, cutie.”

“No,” you whisper. “You’re not wrong, Luke.”

The smile he gives you is brighter than the moon shining in the sky.

“I know I’m not, baby,” he gets closer, placing his large hand on your waist, on top of your corset. “So, if you want to have some fun with me,” he continues, using the same words you used not even five minutes ago. “It will have to be the way I want it to be, right?”

You nod with your head, scared that he would find out your underwear is slowly getting wetter and wetter.

He gives you a forehead kiss before stepping back, walking towards the door, letting you wonder if he was just being silly and was in fact leaving the room. Which he doesn’t, just closes the door and walks back at you, eyeing you like a wolf would look at a bunny.

Luke kissed you as if he was hungry, thirsty for something he could only get if he stuck your lips together. His hands, warm and large, encircled your waist and pushed you until your back hit the large bookshelf that decorated the wall of the office.

“Fuck,” Luke moans against your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

You wanted to tell him that you had too, but you didn’t even have time; Luke kissed you again, making you stand on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, messing up the curls that decorated his head.

His mouth moved against yours, his lips sweet and soft, different from the way he kissed you: bruising and desperate, holding you so close that you feared, for a second, that the two of you would become one.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he warns, his green eyes, now a darker shade, looking into yours and showing all the impure thoughts he was having. “I’m gonna fuck you hard against that table, Mila, and I swear to God I won’t stop. So, if you don’t want that, tell me now and I’ll take you home.”

“No,” you say, desperately and shamefully wet. “I need you.”

“I know you do,” he says, his voice full of malice. His hands roam your body, touching only the top of your breasts, not lingering on them for more than a minute.

Then, Luke’s hands find the middle of your legs, and you close your eyes, embarrassed that he would now know how turned on you were.

You can hear Luke’s ragged breathing as he pulls the wet fabric of your panties up, making you moan as the fabric touches your clit, splitting your two outer labia.

“You’re so wet, bunny,” He murmurs against your skin, playing with the thin and—now—soaked fabric of your panties. “I bet I don’t even have to prep you before slamming my dick into you with how sloppy you probably are.”

You moan loudly, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Luke—”

Your speech is cut off when he shoves your panties to the side and thrusts two fingers inside you, thrusting them with urgency and need.

“I knew it,” he chuckles. “So. Fucking. Loose.”

You grip his arm, feeling wetter than you had ever felt in your life. Luke had always been sweet and loving, and you loved that face of his. But this? This is so much better.

Two of his fingers were moving in and out quickly, while his thumb was touching your clit quickly, making you see stars. The wet sounds filled the room and made you close your eyes in shame.

The weight of Luke's body on yours was comfortable and overwhelming at the same time, the height difference only making you feel even more like prey that had just been captured.

“Luke, fuck.”

“It’s a shame that a cute bunny like you has such a dirty mouth,” he makes a tsc sound with his tongue, not once stopping moving his fingers. “Did no one teach you manners?”

You shake your head, moaning loudly and forgetting that the door wasn’t locked, and that there was a party going on downstairs, with hundreds of people who at any moment could open the door and see the obscenity happening in front of them.

“I’m gonna come, Luke, please, I will—”

Tears immediately form in your eyes when Luke suddenly removes his fingers from inside you. “What? Why did you stop?” You sob.

“Because I wanted to.” He simply says, kissing your cheek, the sweetness of his act contrasting with the harshness of his words.

He comes closer again, running both hands behind your thighs, picking you up with ease. Then, he walks towards the table in the middle of the room, stopping in front of it and placing you on the floor gently.

He kisses you again, biting your lips right after.

“Turn around, cutie,” he smiles, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, making you sigh.

Luke is big. Like, bigger than any of the guys you’ve been with before, probably thicker too.

“What?” He smirks. “Did the little bunny bite off more than she can chew?”

Gulping, you shake your head. “Y-you’re… big.”

“Mhm,” he shamelessly grabs his cock, stroking the head a few times, spreading the precum all over his length, as you watch with awe, his hand size matching his dick. “Think you can take it?”

Even though your brain screamed for you to run and hide, your the unstoppable throbbing between your legs was too hard to ignore.

“Yes, but… even if I can’t,” you tilt your head up, staring at his lustful eyes. “You’ll make me, right?”

“Smart, smart bunny.”

He kisses you again before turning your body around, placing your hands on the table and lifting your skirt. You can feel him removing your panties as he spreads your legs wide with his feet.

He runs his cock over your lips for a few seconds, the wet sounds echoing off the walls of the room, and when he finally enters, it’s like everything you’ve been searching for finally makes sense.

“Holy fuck, Mila,” he groans, resting his torso against your back.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling his entire length out of you and putting it back in, thrusting hard and precisely. Your hands grip the wood beneath your fingers tightly, and your eyes meet the back of your head.

You can feel the tears decorating your face, as Luke grips your waist with an incredible force and pushes his cock hard inside you, moaning loudly.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he says, and you bite your lips, holding back a loud moan. “You’re getting my dick so wet.”

“Luke.”

You didn’t care about anything anymore. All you wanted was to cum, and preferably on his fingers.

He seemed to have heard your thoughts, as it didn't take him long to support one of your legs on the table, entering even deeper inside you, hitting places no one had ever hit before. Then, moving his fingers over your engorged clit, he rubbed it mercilessly, your orgasm building faster, since he edged you not even ten minutes ago.

“Luke,” you sob, calling out his name. “I’m gonna come.”

“Are you going to make a mess?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Then hold it,” he says, as he applies even more pressure on your sensitive nub, slamming his dick deeper onto your g-spot.

“I can’t, I need to—”

“Baby, you’re not the one in charge here,” his voice is soft, gentle and calming— it didn't stop your tears, though. “If you’re not gonna make a mess, then why should I bother letting you come anyway?”

“Please, Luke, please,” you hiccup, feeling some pieces of the wood get under your nails with how hard you were scratching the table.

“Make a mess, Mila. That’s the only way you’re coming tonight.”

You’re dizzy. Your head is empty and you only need to let Luke ruin you, and everything you believe. When you finally reach your peak, you come, wetting his fingers, your thighs and the table, but none of that is enough for the curly haired boy behind you.

He keeps rubbing you, biting your neck, fucking you into pure oblivion, overwhelming you to the max. And when you feel himself pulling away, you shake your head, crying louder and clenching your hole around his dick.

He hisses. “Mila.”

“No,” you cry. “Inside— ah, please.”

“You’ll drive me insane,” he jokes, but there isn't a hint of playfulness in his tone. He keeps slamming inside you, until he finally comes, painting your insides white with his release.

It’s dirty, raw and human. It’s oddly comforting and overwhelming at the same time; it’s maddening.

People have been put in mental institutions for feeling much less than you right now.

“Mila.”

Luke’s voice is far, and as you rest your forehead against the cold wood of the table, you can feel him pulling away from you.

“Bunny?”

You feel his hand on your hair, and you can feel his presence everywhere. Wiping your cheeks, cleaning your thighs with his shirt, putting your underwear back on, pulling your skirt down. You can feel his warm, burning body behind you as he gets you up and rests your back against his toned abs, kissing your neck gently.

“Hey,” he whispers, and you can tell he’s trying so hard not to freak you out. “Mila, baby.”

“‘Gimme a minute,” you whisper, smelling his perfume, a mix of sandalwood and patchouli.

He lets out a quiet laugh, caressing your thigh with the same hands that held you so strongly not even five minutes ago.

“Do you want to sit?”

“I don’t think I can move my legs right now,” You chuckle, and he hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up again, walking you to the couch, laying down with you on top of him. “Feels nice.”

“I know,” he hums back. “Listen, I’m so—”

“Don��t you dare say you’re sorry,” you ask, closing your eyes. “I wanted this.”

“I wasn’t going to apologize for fucking you,” he laughs, and you feel his chest moving under you. “I was going to apologize for not telling you sooner.”

“Telling me what?”

“That I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I guess I was just scared.”

Now he sounded like the boy you knew.

“Same. I like you too much to screw things up.” You confess, feeling your cheeks burn.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

You snuggle closer to his body, ignoring the wet clothes and the fact that there was a party happening downstairs, and that Suzy was probably looking for you.

But it was fine. You could deal with her tomorrow.

𖧷

#luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #hockey #lh43

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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago

Note

I would love if you can do one reader x Nicholas. Sisters best friend. The readers sister was friends with Nicholas bc she was influencer. Nicholas wanted to ask you out but your sister disapprove,because he was known as player. No smut please and thank you !

warnings— player!nicholas, slight heartbreak, angst, slight fluff.

a/n— no smut so i’m assuming you want angst maybe a bit of fluff, enjoy i hope i met your expectations <3

One afternoon, you went over to your sister’s apartment after she invited you to help her plan an influencer party she was hosting. As you approached her door, you overheard voices coming from inside. You stopped, recognizing that she was talking to Nicholas. They’d been best friends for a long time, especially since she’d started making a name for herself online and he became a famous actor, and they’d been by each other’s side for years as they navigated their journey. Your heart skipped a beat hearing his voice—you’d had a crush on him for months, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps, not wanting to complicate things. But now, it was all too real.

“Look, you can’t date her,” your sister said, her tone low but insistent. “I don’t want you to ask her out, or even think about it.”

You heard a pause, and then his response. “I’d never hurt her. She’s different.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, as if he’d been hoping to get your sister’s blessing.

Your sister sighed, clearly skeptical. “But that’s the problem. You’re all over dating apps lately, and don’t even get me started on what I’ve heard about you and your last girlfriend. People are saying you cheated. My sister deserves someone who’s stable and serious, not, whatever it is you’re doing.” Her tone held a sharp edge.

You lingered outside the door, a mixture of embarrassment and hurt welling up inside. It stung to hear her talk about him like that, but there was part of you that knew she was probably right. Yet there was another part of you that wanted to believe he was telling the truth, that he wouldn’t hurt you, that he really did want to be with you.

Maybe you were naive or just hopeful. Or blinded by the strong feelings you had for Nicholas all these months, especially since his rise to fame, it hurt you to see him out and about with your sister’s influencer friends and other women— his costars.

Eventually, he left, looking defeated, and your sister’s words stayed with you, reminding you of the risks. Still, the lingering desire was there; you couldn’t simply ignore the spark you’d felt for so long. The idea of being with him felt right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your sister’s warning, not openly at least.

The night of the influencer party, you caught sight of him in the crowd, looking as charming as ever. Your stomach twisted when you saw him talking to another girl, who looked just as captivated by him. You watched as they laughed, getting closer, until eventually, he led her away from the crowd and down the hall. You felt a pang of hurt. The crush, the dreams, all of it seemed so foolish now. Your sister had been right; he really was the player she’d warned you about.

Later, when he reappeared, you tried to act unfazed, but he noticed you looking his way. He approached, guilt evident in his expression, and you didn’t hold back. “I saw you with her,” you said, crossing your arms, not even bothering to hide your disappointment.

He paused, seemingly struggling with what to say. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “I was just, trying to get over you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

You felt a surge of frustration and hurt. “Trying to get over me by being with someone else? That doesn’t change anything,” you said, shaking your head. “I wanted to believe you, but my sister was right about you.”

As you walked away, you felt the weight of closure settle in. Maybe things could have been different, but he’d shown you who he was, and you were finally ready to let him go.

The rest of the night, you tried your best to enjoy yourself at the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, determined not to let him ruin your night. Yet, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him standing by himself, drink in hand, looking unusually contemplative. For once, he wasn’t mingling with other girls or putting on a show, instead, he seemed lost in thought, a hint of defeat on his face. Maybe he’d finally realized that this reputation he’d built for himself wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought. You could almost feel the shift in him, as though he was reconsidering everything and beginning to question if this player lifestyle was really worth losing someone like you.

At the end of the night, you and your sister were winding down back at her place, getting ready to stay over after the party. While everyone else was settling in, he found a quiet moment to approach you. He looked tired, yet determined, and there was an apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, reaching out like he wanted to hug you. “I know I messed up. I want you to know that it wasn’t just, casual for me. I’d never want to hurt you like this.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms. “You made your choice,” you replied, a touch of sadness in your voice. “If you really wanted me, you’d have fought for me, done everything to prove to my sister that you’re serious. You can’t just say sorry now and expect it to change things.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I messed up, and I don’t know if I can fix it, but, I want to try. Maybe not just for you, but for myself, too.”

Without another word, you turned away, retreating to your sister’s room. You crawled into bed beside her, feeling the weight of it all start to lift. She wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry things turned out this way,” she murmured, her voice soft with understanding.

“It’s fine,” you replied, managing a small smile. “It’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll change, maybe he won’t. But I know I deserve better.”

Your sister nodded, squeezing your hand. “I think he can change, but it’s going to take time, a long time,” she said, and you nodded, knowing she was probably right.

The next morning, as everyone was preparing to leave, he found you one last time. This time, there was a sense of quiet resolution in his eyes. He hugged you gently, murmuring, “I’ll walk to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes. I’ll do whatever I need to, to win her approval and show you I mean it.”

You pulled back, still guarded. “We’ll see,” you replied, giving him a small nod before leaving with your sister.

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foryoupeko · 18 hours ago

Text

(Depressing rant, I mention Twitter drama and DR3 hate)

Y’all lucky I found that fuyuhiko post I just reblogged bc lord I was spiraling.

Twitter been making it real tough being in the DR fandom. I was thinking about leaving TBH.

I already cant go in the Fuyuhiko tag on tumblr without finding someone who hates me for shipping incest (I’m talking about kuzu/peko, it’s not btw)

Every Peko stan I find hates me. The ones on Twitter thinks I endorse child grooming and the ones on Reddit thinks I’m homophobic

I expressed on Twitter that reading too many “Butch Lesbian Fuyuhiko is the only correct interpretation” gives me gender dysphoria. I’m a transmasc enby who was forced to go to an all girl school. So it’s tough reading about a character I relate to heavily is only likable as a girl. Somehow that turned a lot of kuzu/peko shippers on Twitter against me. I saw some of them make fun of me but I thought that was fair to a certain extent. I’m a biromantic asexual, not being gay enough for the LGBTQA community shouldn’t be new to me.

Last week was just really bad bc I said I didn’t like Chisa. I admitted it was for petty reasons and I only saw two episodes of despair arc. This was in 2017, it was too confusing to watch DR3 without SDR2 knowledge and the anime wasn’t newcomer friendly. Then a popular dr3 account made fun of me and their followers dog piled me. I went down a rabbit hole of trying to block everyone harrsssing me but then I kept finding people who were calling me retarded and slurs. Then I found ppl screenshotting my old tweets just to make fun of me and kuzu/peko.

It’s not fun watching people make fun of your race, sexuality, age, interests, all because I said “DR3 isn’t newcomer friendly”. None of them even disagreed with me, they just called me stupid for not thinking I needed to watch SDR2 before watching “The End of HPA”.

I’m just glad I have nice people like Cosmo, Twinkle, and Neuro who makes me feel like I’m not just a complete blight in this fandom

And reading that Fuyuhiko post made me realize that I don’t do anything in this fandom for validation. I really should accept i can’t please everyone and to doesn’t matter if the whole fandom hates me.

In closing, I’m not gonna acknowledge DR3 on this blog for a while. But I’m not leaving anytime soon. My opinion is never meant to hurt anyone. When I say “block me if you don’t like my content”, this is not saying I don’t respect your opinion. I’m saying “block me because I can’t take another person hate following me just to make fun of me”

#sorry for dragging Twitter drama here #I just need ppl know #I already know ppl hate me #so just cool it already #but if I say that on Twitter #those assholes are just #gonna make fun of me again

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canary-curse-57 · 1 day ago

Text

At long last, I would like to present you all with a 2000+ word ramble about

WHY I THINK JIMMY SOLIDARITYGAMING COULD WIN THE LIFE SERIES

This WILL be long, this WILL be rambling, and I WON’T always get info correct, but I’m very passionate about the fact that Jimmy really is a good player, but happens to be an even better content creator (I’ll explain what I mean by this later!)

To start, I will analyze every death of his (although I will be excluding many from Limited Life for time reasons) because I believe that most of them can be categorized as some mix of Bad Luck, Accident, and/or Silly Decision. Then, in a different section, I’ll focus mainly on the Silly Decision deaths/explain why I don’t think he will win even if he could! I’ll also add in a TLDR section at the very end to try and summarize the big points I made. Anyways, let’s get into it!

3RD LIFE:

First death - Dare To Flare - Silly Decision

Ah, Jimmy’s first death. This is one of the Silliest Decisions of all, but it also demonstrates a characteristic of Jimmy’s playstyle that we see very frequently throughout the rest of the series: when presented with a high-risk high-reward situation, he almost always attempts the situation, even if the chance of success is negligible. There was never really that much of a chance to win Dare To Flare without cheating, and others had already died trying, but he still gave it a shot!

Second death - TNT Minecart - Accident/Silly Decision (I can't find yellow so I guess orange will do,,)

Our first multi-category death! To me, this one ultimately feels more like an accident than anything else, due to Jimmy not knowing how exactly TNT minecarts worked at the time, but I also have to qualify it as partly a silly decision because Scott did tell him not to touch it.

Final death - Arrow - Bad Luck

This is honestly one of the more unlucky deaths for Jimmy across the whole entire life series! Ultimately, being unable to get down the ladder properly is what did him in, and I honestly believe that Jimmy might’ve been able to avoid dying first had he just not gotten unlucky with the timing of the shot/getting down the ladder. Oh, how different things could’ve possibly been,,,,

LAST LIFE:

Before I analyze the deaths for this series, I want to talk about why, to me, this is Jimmy’s best season ever in terms of results!! He was one of 5 people to start the season off with 2 lives, but unlike three of the others, he never gained another life (shoutout Ren, the other one who never gained another life!! I think this was his best season so far too!!!). Sure, he tried stealing one from Martyn, but he didn’t get to keep that one! Every other person (again, except for Ren!) that started yellow died more than 2 times over the course of the series, but not Jimmy!!! He also didn’t have his 1st death until the 6th session!! 13 other players had already died at least once before he did!! He also went to risky places where other people died (the Nether/a bastion where Mumbo died!!) and survived!! So while he had two rough deaths in back to back sessions and still went out first, this still remains his best season in my eyes, and it also is a great representation of the fact that he’s still a good Minecraft player!! He can survive really well when he minimizes Silly Decisions/doesn’t have to deal with bad luck, but minimizing Silly Decisions won’t be a frequent thing for him (more on that later) which is why I think that he could win but probably won’t.

First death - Explosion - Accident/Bad Luck

While digging the dirt that set off the trap could add a Silly Decision category to this, I won’t be adding it because really, who would expect a random piece of dirt blocking an entrance to be trapped? (Not me, that’s for sure - I probably would’ve done the same thing) Honestly though, I feel like if this was a different type of death, Jimmy might not have gone out first. The explosion absolutely obliterating all of his stuff makes life much more difficult, and definitely impacted his season ending when it did.

Final death - Fall/Grian - Silly Decision/Accident

The main reason that I categorize this one as a Silly Decision is because technically, Jimmy started it. Out of everyone on the server, Grian feels like the most likely to retaliate against a red, even if all they did was punch him, so it definitely wasn’t a good idea to instigate here. I also qualify it as an Accident because he says it (specifically falling off the edge of the building) was (*insert clip from Evil Anvil song here*).

DOUBLE LIFE:

Before I start this section, I have something devastating to admit; I’ve never actually watched Double Life (I know, I know!! I’ve been meaning to for so long but just haven’t gotten around to it,,,,) I did go in and watch his deaths, so I at least know how they went down, but everything I know about the rest of this season is from the fandom.

First death - Soulmate - UNCATEGORIZABLE

Now, I know you could technically qualify this as a Bad Luck death, but I really really don’t think it fits at all!! Essentially every person in Double Life died because their soulmate died at some point, so saying that Jimmy just happened to have the Bad Luck to be paired with Tango doesn’t feel right. This death was totally and completely out of his hands, so it becomes the only one to truly not fit into any category.

Second death - Falling/Hit By Arrow - Silly Decision/Bad Luck

Genuinely how did that arrow manage to hit Jimmy?? Bad Luck for him for sure, but ultimately standing as far over the edge as he was when people are firing up at you is a biiit of a Silly Decision. There’s also even more Bad Luck factored in when it comes to the timing of the whole thing - him and Tango just happened to be enchanting with Scar and Grian when the whole server decided to go after them! Jimmy wasn’t really even the main target here!

Final death - Enderman - Accident/Bad Luck

Ah yes, the Enderman death. I know I’ve said this multiple times already (and I’m sure I’ll say it many more), but this has gotta be one of Jimmy’s most unlucky deaths ever. With the combination of being low on food (so he can’t heal), the shield being about to break, and the tree he hides under not properly blocking the enderman, this was a recipe for disaster from the moment he accidentally looked into its eyes. Definitely a death that’s almost impossible to avoid.

LIMITED LIFE:

While I won’t be going through each and every death Jimmy had during this season (since Oh Boy there were a lot more than 3), I’ll focus on 3 that I want to point to that feel very very important to me!

Digging straight down with Joel - Silly Decision (Doing It For The Bit)

What’s this? A subcategory? Well yes, yes it is! This is a subcategory that we really only see in Limited Life, since people could die much more in that series due to the mechanic. So while this was still a Silly Decision, it was one made for fun and for The Bit! I’ll go into more depth as to why later, but this death is the ultimate example of why Jimmy probably won’t ever actually win a Life Series; he is in it 1000% for the fun!

Falling into trap because Grian pushed a button - Accident/Bad Luck

This is one of those deaths that is just so unlucky for Jimmy! Of course Grian didn’t mean to kill him, making it an Accident, but it really just feels like such Bad Luck overall! He honestly had a lot of these deaths the closer he got to the end of Limited Life; another one that comes to mind is the pufferfish death that happened while he was leaving the Nosy Neighbors’ base. These types of deaths are unfortunately completely unavoidable because they are almost completely unpredictable.

Final death - Falling - Accident/Bad Luck

This death is clearly an Accident, but it’s also an example of Bad Luck because of the placement of the minecart/the fact that he was shifting but seemingly un-shifted at the last second. Really though, this death feels like the world just making sure he died, since he should’ve been out with Etho’s boogie kill.

SECRET LIFE:

First death - Drowned/Trident - Bad Luck

I’ll be honest, I had to go back and watch this death- but it really was another case of Jimmy just having the worst luck with this game! His health was already SO low (and sure, I could technically qualify this one as a Silly Decision in terms of him deciding to go outside when it was dark out while being so low on hearts, but it doesn’t feel quite right for some reason), & to have a trident drowned just decide to spawn in that area is awful luck!

Second death - Ender Dragon - Bad Luck/Silly Decision

Ah, the Ender Dragon death. Yet another example of a high-risk potentially-high-reward situation that Jimmy went into despite a low chance of success,,, personally I think that if he avoided the End, his second death would’ve come much later & his chances of making it even longer would’ve increased drastically.

Final death - Warden - Silly Decision/Bad Luck

While this death definitely has Bad Luck as a secondary factor, Silly Decision is the main one here by a MILE. Deciding to help fight/stay in the area of a Warden and a Wither while being a red life with just over one row of hearts remaining?? One of the Silliest Decisions of all! Anyways, this death also has a Bad Luck component to it because of the Warden deciding to focus on him instead of Mumbo even though they were both really close to it & also with some of the long distance shots from the Warden actually hitting.

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

Now, I know that was a lot of rambling, but there’s a really big thing about these deaths that made me want to categorize them; very few of them have anything to do with pvp fighting! Most of them are environmental deaths (deaths to mobs/fall damage) or deaths indirectly caused by another player (traps that Jimmy himself had to trigger) instead of ones directly caused by a player!

Of course, every player in the life series has had environmental/indirectly caused deaths, but the winners/the people who place really high? They have more deaths directly caused by a player than anything else!

Take someone like Impulse, who consistently has a very high placement in the life series, but hasn’t won one (yet!!). A vast amount of his deaths are kills directly caused by other players! Same for most of the winners!! (Scar is the outlier here, although he only died due to direct kills by other players in the season he won, sooooo)

So, here’s what I’m getting at: if Jimmy can cut down on his environmental deaths, and avoid triggering traps/aggravating other players, I think he could survive much longer than he has so far! He would go from someone who dies without others needing to have much of an input, to someone that people would have to intentionally try to kill because he’s one of the final greens/yellows! We already know from Last Life that he can go a TON of episodes without dying, so if we combine that ability with more than two starting lives, then I think we have a recipe for a potential winner on our hands!!

However. Despite my belief that Jimmy is a much better player than anyone gives him credit for, I also don’t think that he will win a life series. And this is gonna get a little over-analyze-y, but I think that he won’t win because of who he is as a person and as a content creator.

He’s always willing to take risks for friends, do something for the bit (as seen by his lava death with Joel in Limited Life), and generally put himself in risky situations. He knows what makes a good video, but he also just genuinely is having fun with his friends! I think Jimmy could win a life series if he took it really really seriously, and put a ton of time and focus into staying alive and making it far, but I’m not sure that would be very fun for him. He seems like the kind of person who is just in it for a good time. And I’m not saying that he doesn’t want to win, or doesn’t take the series seriously at all - I think he definitely does, based on his reaction to his final death at the end of Double Life & Limited Life - but he’s not gonna go out of his way to win or do the ‘smart thing’ when he can just keep enjoying the series.

(Eugh, that felt a little too personality-analyzing/parasocial and weird for me, but I do think it’s true.)

ANYWAYS, that’s about it!

So TLDR: Lots of Jimmy’s deaths aren’t directly caused by players, and if he can avoid those types of deaths, he could survive long enough to have a real shot at winning! He also is much better at being able to survive a long time than we give him credit for, as we see in Last Life. However, while he still takes the life series seriously, he’s ultimately in it for the fun, making it less likely that he pulls off a win.

Thanks so much for reading, and feel free to ask questions/share your own thoughts!!

#jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #life series #trafficblr #traffic life #traffic series #this is bananas guys idk how I've managed to write all this #canary curse #jimmy solidarity gaming #tagging like crazy because I need at least one (1) person to see this

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ask-the-koopa-family · 2 days ago

Text

Heres a little story between Roy and Wendy !!

Hope you like it !

Wendy is alone, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. Her gaze is fixed on the horizon, distant and thoughtful. Roy arrives, hands in his pockets, observing his sister with a stern but concerned expression.

Roy:

Gruffly but not aggressive

"So, what's your problem, Wendy? You've been acting weird for days. What are you waiting for to tell us what's going on?"

Wendy doesn’t immediately respond. She continues staring at the horizon as if she didn’t hear him.

Roy:

More insistent, stepping closer

"Hey, I’m talking to you. What's going on? I can't help you if you don't tell me anything."

Wendy grits her teeth, her eyes hardening, but she stays silent. Roy sighs and crosses his arms, mimicking her stance.

Roy:

Trying to soften his tone

"I know you, Wendy. When you pretend to ignore people, it means something happened."

Wendy:

Finally, in a trembling voice

"It's ridiculous, Roy... You wouldn't understand."

Roy:

Frustrated but worried

"Try me. I may not be the smartest, but I’m your brother. I can't just leave you like this."

Wendy lowers her head, biting her lip before speaking.

Wendy:

Softly, almost ashamed

"Some people said... that I’m just a spoiled little princess, incapable of doing anything on my own."

Roy narrows his eyes, furious at the thought of someone saying that to his sister.

Roy:

Gravely

"Who the shell said that?"

Wendy:

Fighting to stay composed

"It doesn’t matter. Maybe they're right… I spend all my time worrying about how I look, about being perfect... but am I worth anything without that?"

Roy stands taller, clenching his fists.

Roy:

"Are you serious right now? You're gonna let a bunch of idiots make you doubt yourself? You’ve always been the toughest out of all of us. Who cares what those losers say? You’ve proven way more than they ever will."

Wendy:

Finally turning to him, vulnerable

"And what if I am just a façade, Roy? Just an image, nothing more?"

Roy growls, clearly uncomfortable with his sister's vulnerability. But he steps closer, standing right in front of her.

Roy:

With raw sincerity

"I don’t care what you do or what you look like. It’s you that we respect. Not just your crown or your makeup. You’re Wendy O. Koopa. The people who know you, know exactly who you are."

Wendy, surprised by the softness behind his words, slightly lets down her guard.

Wendy:

"Are you sure about that?"

Roy:

With a sly smile

"Maybe I’m just a tough guy, but I know my sister better than anyone."

Wendy cracks a smile, more genuine this time. Suddenly, without warning, she steps forward and wraps her arms around Roy in a hug. Roy stiffens, clearly uncomfortable.

Roy:

Grumbling

"Uh… Wendy, you know I’m not a hugger, right?"

Wendy squeezes tighter, not letting go. Her voice is soft but firm.

Wendy:

"I don’t care. I needed this."

Roy stands there for a moment, stiff and awkward, before finally letting out a deep sigh. He slowly raises his arms and hugs her back, though it’s clear he’s doing it just for her sake.

Roy:

Muttering

"Fine. But if you ever tell anyone, I’ll deny it."

Wendy pulls back slightly, still holding onto him, but her gaze softens, and she looks down for a moment, hesitant.

Wendy:

Softly

"Roy... do you think... Mom would be proud of us?"

Roy freezes for a second, clearly caught off guard by the question. He looks away, biting his lip before sighing.

Roy:

Quietly

"She'd be proud, Wendy. Of you, of me... of all of us."

Wendy:

Still uncertain

"But what if we're not doing enough? What if we're just... not living up to her?"

Roy turns back to her, his voice firm but more gentle than before.

Roy:

"Listen, no one’s perfect. But we’re still here, aren’t we? We're still fighting. She'd be proud of that. Proud of you."

Wendy’s eyes fill with emotion, but she manages to hold it back, giving Roy a small, thankful nod.

Wendy:

"Thanks, Roy."

Roy:

With a slight grin

"Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get all mushy on me again."

Wendy cracks a smile, more genuine this time. She finally lets go of him.

Wendy:

"Your secret’s safe with me, tough guy."

Roy smirks, shaking his head, but there's a softness in his eyes.

---

Despite his gruff demeanor, Roy managed to reach Wendy, reminding her that she’s much more than what others see. And though he’s not one for hugs, he hugged her back because, sometimes, family means stepping out of your comfort zone.

Art/story are mine dont copy/repost

#story

#roykoopa

#wendykoopa

#koopalings

#supermariobros

#drawing #tablet #story #roy koopa #wendy koopa #koopalings

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jekinabox · 2 days ago

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some rambles on my takes on Curly from Mouthwashing

I understand that a lot of people see Curly’s reaction to Anya telling him about her SA and what he did after as him ignoring it for Jimmy’s sake- and maybe that’s true, the point could very well be that people (especially those close to the abuser, especially men) will just set that kind of thing aside because the abuser “wouldn’t do that” or “will be better” or whatever, especially because Swansea ends up doing the same thing when Anya tells him, as well as the consistent theming of responsibility and trying to fix things.

But I think that maybe there’s more to it? If you don’t, feel free to look away, this is just my thoughts and take. But I think If the story is about SA and the consequences of not rooting the people out, I don’t understand what Diasuke’s role in it could be, so that just isn’t the moral of the story that I see. Of course, if this is how you see the story, that’s ok! People can have different views on media, and art is as much about people’s different responses to it as it is about what the creators meant.

Onto my little ramblings about the guy!

1- I think it’s very probable that Curly’s been manipulated by Jimmy, and for a long time. They’re “best friends,” and Curly believes Jimmy “won’t try that bullshit with me” even though he clearly does. Even at the birthday party, Jimmy is uncaring to his “best friend,” and during the confrontation near the cockpit, Jimmy outright twists what Curly’s said in the past. (Not to mention what he does to Curly afterward, but that doesn’t exactly count since it’s afterward.) I also wouldn’t be surprised if Jimmy helped Curly out of some situation in the past due to his savior complex and Curly now feels like he owes Jimmy something. It’d be easy for him to overlook Jimmy’s smaller problems if he feels he owes Jimmy something, especially if it’s something bigger, and he seems more of the “deal with it” kind of person anyways, so he’d obviously toss any grievances aside since he thinks everyone needs multiple chances. At first, Jimmy probably unsettled him. But he got used to it, just like his job. He deals with it for the last day, then another, then another.

2- Curly seems legitimately concerned when Anya tells him about everything, at least when he gets confirmation. We don’t see much after the she asks him about the locks on the doors, and we don’t see how much he actually learns, and thus no clue as to how bad he believes the situation may be (Harassment is nothing to scoff at, but if he just believes someone’s being a creep or annoying her, he’s obviously going to try to learn more and deescalate before anything else.) We also never see how much or what they say when she asks for the gun, but what we know is that Curly is freaking out when he thinks she has it, and actually believes it at first to be that she wants to kill herself due to the recent termination of their jobs. He’s first confused, then after her few words of explanation says he’ll talk to Jimmy. We never see an actual talk, but he learns definitively of what happened only “1 day before the crash,” and it takes time to sort through emotions, plans, and decisions, let alone when someone you thought was good did something like that and if you realize that they were a shitty person all along. Curly also then needs to decide what they’re going to do with Jimmy (they can’t lock him in the cockpit or medical because they need those, nor the hold because he would obviously mess up whatever they’re shipping as a hissy fit against them, and considering you get pay docked for complaining, using the cryopod or the gun would probably make this whole deal worthless for practically everyone.) Even if he did decide to just get rid of Jimmy, he’s not going to tell anyone that in case Jimmy finds out, and especially not Anya, since she seems forgiving enough and in a bad enough spot he has no clue what she may try to do if he tells her “I’m going to go kill Jimmy.”

3- Inaction and not taking responsibility doesn’t feel like Curly’s issue. Curly has the responsibility of everything on the ship, even baking a cake, and even when told not to tell his crew about the loss of their jobs, he still does. He even takes roles that aren’t his, like doing Jimmy’s psych evaluation when he sees Anya’s uncomfortable. This is why he and Jimmy are the two characters we play as, and are seen as opposites and each other’s foils. Jimmy’s whole thing is unreliable narration. By the end of the game, he’s convinced himself Curly crashed the ship and he’s the better man for leaving Curly alive after what he “did.” Jimmy’s an aggressive man who uses people for just what they can give him, and he causes problems for the express purpose of trying to fix him so people worship him, but messes up even with all the time in the world to “fix” things. Curly’s the one blamed, but he’s a genuine guy who tried his best and gave people the benefit of the doubt until he couldn’t anymore, but didn’t have the time to fix anything because Jimmy broke that chance.

4- My main bit is over, but another piece of his psychology- Curly probably hates himself, considering how Jimmy talks about him seeming like he’s at the edge of a bridge with cinderblocks on his feet, and if he hates himself, a way he may try to cope is by insisting everyone isn’t tied to their worst moments! Just like how he talks about how pain is a symbol one’s alive, which sounds like another coping mechanism. Jimmy isn’t the only one who hopes it hurts.

5- And Curly was right, most of the time, about how bad things don’t define people. Swansea’s rude and abrasive at times, but a pretty good man in a bad life. Diasuke was unplanned for the journey, but he’s a good intern who’s trying his best. Anya may have only completed the Pony Express medical course, but she keeps Curly alive for four months, even despite his quadruple amputations and missing skin and the complete lack of a lot of medical equipment that she could’ve used. The unfortunate thing is- his kind nature let bad things in, and it was so slow and manipulative he didn’t even necessarily know, consciously, how bad it was, until Jimmy crashed the ship, got everyone killed, and fed him his own leg. 99.9% indeed.

#tw sa mention #tw manipulation #Tw abuse #Mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #captain curly #I had to ramble about his psychology #It’s been taunting me since I decided to cosplay him for halloween #I’m brunette and I don’t have a wig so I’m praying the bandages keep people from thinking I’m Jimmy #Idk I guess I just felt like no one was really looking at the possibility that CURLY PROBABLY GOT MANIPULATED TOO??!!?#Like please like me know if it’s confirmed that the story is about SA like everyone says but I just see some holes from a story-making #Standpoint if that’s what it’s all about

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diangelodork · 2 days ago

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HEY FOLKS! here’s DBDA nightly analysis #10 :D

i’ve been writing about such sad shit lately so tonight’s gonna be sweet!

i’m gonna be discussing E5 (no, wait, please don’t go, i promise it’s not angsty) and how it’s the biggest and best edwin and crystal friendship episode :D (see, told ya!)

i’m gonna be moving as chronologically as i can:

first, i just think it’s sweet to see the expression on crystal’s face when she realizes that edwin agrees on the case :)) edwin looks at her so playfully like he’s trying to be annoyed but you can see the small grin on his face

tbh, i feel like a lot of the tension is lifted after charles confirms that he doesn’t really hate that he’s dead because that was a huge stressor for edwin. once charles says that he wouldn’t want to be dead with anyone else, he stops seeing crystal as a threat to his friendship with charles. he’s beginning to realize that charles can be close with her and remain edwin’s best friend. this, in turn, shows him that it’s okay to connect with her too.

he’s really not very snippy with her in this episode and that’s totally new for their relationship. he was a total prick to her until really this episode. i truly think it’s the big turning point for them.

he’s much more receptive to her idea of going in to talk to richie alone than he would’ve been in the past. it’s almost odd how he doesn’t roll his eyes or say something snippy with the context of how he’s been with her before this episode.

edwin was really affected by the secret gay suicide pact comment and charles’ jump to correct it, which you can see in his expression.

he looks very lost for most of this episode, which makes sense because it’s the case where they have to communicate with the living most often, specifically, modern day teens. he has no clue about any of this and she does. he’s really reliant on her this episode. technically, they both are when she interacts with the living, but even moreso for him and in this moment.

i also appreciate crystal calling out richie’s gay joke so immediately and forcefully. edwin looks incredibly touched when she says this line. i’ve said it before somewhere in my mess of posts, but this is probably the first time he’s ever heard queerness stood up for so strongly.

she calls richie a pussy for making fun of queer people and edwin’s face really shows us how new that is for him to hear. i think it really hits him in this moment how good it is to have such a brilliant and genuine person on his side and he develops a new warmth for her here.

he reads her so well in the following moments, when they’re fucking with ritchie. he puts out his lighter with nothing but a tilt of her head in his direction, knowing just what to do.

the bit with the scissors is also him reacting to her so fucking well. again, she simply nods in his direction and he’s pulling off some creepy ass shit making those scissors walk and it works so perfectly with her threat. they’re playing off of each other so much better this episode (as characters. the actors already did a fantastic job of working off of each other when they were constantly conflicting).

he doesn’t insult her when summoning shelby, either. he throws the slightest of jabs (though, i feel it’s more honesty than anything else) toward charles, but doesn’t comment on the fact that she should go other than saying that she’s living. she also looks rather amused at his comment toward charles in this moment.

when talking to charles, she backs edwin up in his claim that charles is lacking subtlety. this is also new because the both of them tend to agree with charles whenever the other doesn’t, but edwin’s not even here to hear her stand by his comment.

crystal has 100% corrected his usage of the word “hysteria” from E2 and that leads me to believe that there was an offscreen convo where he must’ve been receptive to her explanation and that means a lot. theres also a moment in episode three where he tells niko that he’s wearing the aunt cindy costume so that she doesn’t look like she’s “hysterical” and talking to herself. this, to me, adds even more depth to the fact that he’s receptive to her presumed correction of his usage of that term offscreen.

(something i just feel like mentioning, edwin looks so much more empathetic in this moment with shelby than he has when discussing a ghost’s trauma at any other point in this series and crystal keeps looking over at him.)

crystal makes a point to include edwin’s feelings when discussing how affected they both are about charles’ (justified) outburst with the night nurse.

i also really appreciate how little he voices his opinion after the matter, during crystal and charles’ fight. i think it says a lot that he’s not just jumping in to support charles like usual.

edwin very calmly and neutrally tells the two of them that they’re both very emotionally involved in this case and that they need to put that shit aside until after the case is done.

he speaks about the fact that maren’s mention of drugs gives more weight to shelby’s claims. which is, again, interesting considering how strongly opposed to the idea charles initially was.

he points out how shady maren is being and i believe this is primarily due to the fact that he’s worried for crystal.

charles and edwin come to the realization about maren’s possession of the phones at about the same time. while charles is trying to verbally piece it together, edwin is already visibly panicked because he’s already deciphered the situation. his first instinct is to whisper “crystal,” before running out to get her. he is so worried about her in this moment and it just makes me recall the way he said, with complete deadpan, “if she had died last night, i’d have no problem with her being here,” in E1 vs. now, where he’s so consumed with her wellbeing and survival.

it’s also reminiscent of when both charles and edwin ran in at the beginning of this episode when hearing her scream. he visibly cares more about her now than he used to, despite trying to hide it.

he looks so worried the entire time she’s refusing the gin. his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s looking at maren so intently.

she looks at him very knowingly when he says the “sometimes, when you admit something to yourself, you can no longer live with it as a secret,” line. she looks near sympathetic, in my opinion. i think she’s much more aware of edwin’s romantic feelings for charles than either of them are.

another moment that i really like with them outside of E5 is how focused she is on going into hell for him.

i think that E5 is where she really began to regard him as a friend and she is undoubtedly an incredibly loyal friend. she’s immediately prepared to go into hell for him once charles says he’s going in.

“then i’m coming too,” she says without missing a beat. when charles refuses to let her, she’s pissed and starts yelling at him for it. she tells charles about all the times they were both there for her and how she wants to be there for edwin. “god- edwin is my friend too, whether he likes it or not,” she says.

when he finally does get back from hell, he tells her that it was foolish to confront david without them and she tells him to his face that she found out that her friend got dragged to hell and that she “had to try and save him.”

finally, i think it’s really sweet when she hugs him right after he says she’s officially a part of the dead boy detective agency in E8. it’s really instinctual for her because she cares about him so much and she’s so overwhelmed with her joy about finally being formally accepted by him, even if he tells her a handshake would suffice.

i think they still have a long way to go before edwin is comfortable with her in the same way he is with charles and niko, but this truly is the episode in which he regards her as more than competition for charles’ attention and care and more as an individual that he can view as a friend.

in conclusion, i love them, your honor.

#erebus psychoanalyzes things nightly!#i love psychoanalyzing everything <3 #dead boy detectives #dbda #save dead boy detectives #renew dead boy detectives #revive dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #i live for crystal and edwin friendship #edwin and crystal #crystal palace #edwin payne #save dbda #savedeadboydetectives #we will save this show

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sunonyoreface · 1 day ago

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He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 23

Word count: 2686

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, death, use of weapons, use of a knife, graphic depictions of violence, blood, military setting.

They keep him locked away in complete and utter darkness. Not a single sound penetrates the two-foot-thick cement walls. Anything he hears is a fabrication of his mind. An audio hallucination caused by the psychological effects of the deprivation of his senses. I’m sure that’s not the only thing he imagines as his chilled bones rattle against each other and his joints stiffen from the cold. So when Ghost cracks open the vault-like door and flicks on the lights, I don’t doubt my father thinks he’s seeing things. Maybe that I’m not real or that I’m visiting him from the dead or that I’ve come for revenge. All of these could be true.

The frigid air penetrates through my long sleeves. It’s just warm enough in here to avoid hypothermia. It’s like 141 is refrigerating him, preserving him until it’s time to transport him back to their main base. That’s where the real fun will begin. In theory, at least.

Ghost keeps his word and leaves the room only after sharing the smallest nod with me. He trusts me. It’s not his choice to make. It’s mine.

I think I subconsciously knew what had to happen long before I could admit such an idea to myself.

All I’ve ever wanted since this began was for the hurting to stop. Not just the pain inflicted on me, but on every soul involved. I hated the idea of people suffering because of me. Even if they hurt me and even if they hurt others; I didn’t see the point in furthering the cycle.

But that’s just it. It’s a cycle that won’t stop until someone interrupts it. 141 thinks that’s what they’re doing, but they’re just as much a part of it as the Ultranationalists. I’d never tell Ghost that, but I don’t see any other way you can put it.

They won’t accomplish anything by locking him away and torturing him for days on end until he gives them some outdated information on my uncle that’ll just send them on another goose chase. The only thing they’ll accomplish is causing more pain.

141’s solution isn’t permanent enough.

“Y/n? Darling?” My father’s voice is weak. “Is that really you?”

For a moment I think he might cry. He looks broken. Genuinely broken. He looks like I’ve felt ever since I found out about who he is. All this makes me wonder how much his reaction is genuine.

“Don’t call me that anymore,” I respond and it’s enough to tell him that, yes, it really is me. And no, I’m not here to help. I take a step away from the locked entrance into the claustrophobic room.

I wouldn’t doubt these rooms are designed to be small for psychological reasons. The base isn’t lacking space by any means. Some psychologists at some point determined that people are easier to break when they’re caged up like animals.

“Don’t act like that darling,” his tone remains on the verge of cracking. “Can we talk? I want to know you’re okay.”

He’s lying. Something about the squint around his eyes isn’t right. Or maybe I want him to be guilty. Maybe I just want to feel justified. What would Ghost think about his body language?

It looks like it takes a significant amount of effort for him to rise his head. The once gentle, yet strong man I knew has since withered. I want to pity him. Some part of me even wants to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. To cut him loose and let him take me back in time.

The stronger part of me won’t let that happen.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” I tell him. My voice doesn’t let on how nervous I am. The stress of the situation doesn’t seem to sink in. That’ll happen later.

“Look,” he admits. “I need your help. They’re going to kill me. Then you. We have to do something.”

Suddenly it’s we. Not me. Not I. Not your mother and I. No, she’s in New York. All he cares about is himself. I imagine Ghost standing beside me and striking him for lying. We.

“How many deaths are you responsible for?” I don’t bother entertaining his nuances. I feel uncharacteristically calm right now as I slowly approach him. My hands don’t shake or sweat. My mouth isn’t dry. My heart beats steadily. I am in complete control.

The switch blade weighs like iron in my back pocket.

“What are you talking about?” his mask starts to slip away. I need him to tell me. I can’t do this if he doesn’t admit guilt.

“The shootings: refugee centers, churches, homeless shelters. I saw videos, you know.”

“If you saw videos, what does my answer matter?”

“I want to hear you say it,” my voice is even. I almost sound unbothered by what I’m asking him to admit like I don’t care all that much. “Take ownership of your actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he tries to change the subject. For a moment I think he’s trying to make me feel stupid. Then I register something else in his voice. Something fearful and hesitant. What is he scared of? “This isn’t a mistake you want to make.”

“You’re ignoring me. Admit it. Admit what you did to those people. Admit what you did to me. To Mom,” The tips of my boots are just inches away from his chained feet. The air between us is charged with resentment.

“Look at what they’ve done to you, y/n,” maybe it wasn’t fear I sensed earlier. Maybe the emotion sneaking out of his chest was something entirely different. Because if I’m not mistaken now, he almost sounds disgusted. “You’re almost unrecognizable,” The flare of his nostrils confirms it. “Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you right now.”

I feel a dull twisting sensation in my chest. Like his cold hands have wrapped around my lungs and squeezed them. Breathing feels impossible as the thick muscle twists between his bloody fingers.

My heart pumps faster and molten blood races to my neck and cheeks. My calm composure is slipping and fast.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” the words snag through bared teeth. How dare he try to guilt me. I haven’t done anything wrong. The only reason I’m here is because of him. It’s all because of him.

“Nothing about me’s changed, darling. Your mother’s always supported me. You would too if you knew where the world was heading.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’re looking at it wrong, y/n. Not everything is about making the world better. But our job, our family, will make it more secure. Those people were a threat,” he says matter-of-factly. A threat to what, exactly? They were innocent. They were children.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’re doing this for the greater good. There is no world where mass killings make things better,” I snarl.

“We work for what we want. We take things into our own hands. This little crew over here, 141,” he says with a measurable amount of distaste. “Is using you. Even now, y/n,” He says this like he knows. Like it’s the complete truth and to even think otherwise is utterly mad. “If you think you’re here on your own free will. You’re wrong.”

I blink. His absolute certainty is maddening. Never could I have imagined him to be so disconnected from reality. He truly is a stranger.

“I know why you’re really here, Little Bird, doing their dirty work like a good little whore,” he seethes. There’s a controlled sense of chaos to him that taunts me. I could pull the switchblade on him. I should. Just get it over with for god’s sake.

I close the minimal space between us. Only inches away yet the distance feels like miles.

“I’m not here on their business,” I say between my teeth. As I lean over him, it’s the first time in forever I feel like I am in control. “This all started because of you and I’ll be damn-“

Suddenly the tables turn swiftly and dangerously. He leaps from the chair and his hands are wrapped around my throat in a vice like grip before I can even process what’s just happened. My arms flail and it feels like slow motion as we fall through the air with him on top of me. How the hell did he get out of his restraints?

My head hits the cement hard and the sound of bone hitting rock echoes off the walls. Not just one, but two men are now strangling me and I struggle to make out which one is real.

“This is all your fault,” spit covers my face as he speaks. Redness runs up his throat to his cheeks as his eyes bulge from exertion. My hands desperately grasp at his arms to no avail. My ears ring as they search the floor for something, anything. Then I feel the tiny piece of metal, still in my back pocket.

Ghost’s training kicks in fast.

My brain barely regiseters the object in my hands as I thrust it toward him as quickly as possible while he’s still destracted. My vision is spotting as his grip seems to tighten even stronger. I repeat the desperate action several times more until the blade is lodged in his lower stomach and I finally manage to drag it across diagonally, completely bathing us in blood.

Only then, does he falter. The man’s hands reach for the wound as he crumples to the side and I take the chance to crawl towards the corner of the room furthest from him. I can’t feel anything but the hot, tacky substance that has fully saturated my clothes. My chest quickly rises and falls as my lungs fight to breathe, but for the life of me it doesn’t feel like any air is making it to them. Panic clouds my vision and my sight turns to static. Everything sounds distorted, like I’m underwater. For a moment I think that is exactly what happened and must be why I feel like I’m drowning.

Red emergency lights flash and an alarm blares in the background. In thirty seconds an armed team of 141’s soldiers will barge through the doors to address the security breach. When they see my father’s slumped body and the growing pool of blood around the bottom of his chair, they’ll look to Ghost for answers first, then they’ll look at me. There’s no hiding what I’ve done.

“Y/n, you’re hyperventilating,” his clear, calm voice breaks through the surface. My eyes flicker up to meet his and my whole attention focuses in on him. Simon. I don’t know where he came from or if he’s real, but right now he’s the only person that can save me. “Deep breaths sweetheart, we don’t have long before they’re here,” his gloved hands cup my bloodied cheeks. I almost don’t notice his skull mask. It’s not the scariest thing in the room anymore. I am.

I nod and Simon continues, “breathe with me y/n. Ready?” he searches my face before deeply breathing in, “and out,” he says through a deep exhale. “Keep breathing. You’re doing good, but I need you to listen very carefully about what is going to happen next,” I nod again and push through another wave of anxiety.

“A team of men is going to detain you and you’ll be brought to the med center. Once you’re cleared Price will have you locked in your room. You won’t get to see me again, but I’ll be watching, okay? You’ll stay there for a few days while the higher-ups have meetings, then eventually discharge you and put you under protective services,” Ghost’s thumb gently rubs back and forth, spreading blood across my cheek. I finally come to terms with what he’s saying. I won’t be able to see him again. They’ll have assumed he had something to do with this. Otherwise, how’d I get the knife? How’d I get through security? They’ll know it was him and they’ll punish him for it.

“But you-” My voice cracks.

“I’ll be alright y/n,” Simon is so calm that I can’t help but belive him.

I want to lean into his embrace, to feel his arms fully encompass my shaking frame and fully disappear into him. Does he mean it when he says I won’t get to see him again? My already clenched heart twists. How am I supposed to just accept that? There has to be something we can do.

I catch the silhouette of my father’s body from the corner of my eye and feel my breathing start to lose control again. I did that. I killed him. Even if it was technically self-defence, my intentions were already set upon deciding to visit him. He almost did me a favour by attacking me.

I’d be stupid to think Ghost and I could have a future after I’ve committed such a heinous crime.

In the distance I hear quickly approaching footsteps as a crew of men, armed and ready, sprint down the hall towards our direction.

“Simon, I-” my voice drifts off. There’s so much I need to tell him, but I’m at a loss. Under the mask, his eyes are calm. He knows. He always has.

“I know y/n,” his voice is low with remorse. The air is still. The alarm blares in the background and our faces are illuminated by the flashing red. My last ounce of hope is suspended by a delicate thread in the space between us. “Me too,” Simon’s brows furrow as he looks me over one sorrowful last time. His shoulders heave as he prepares himself for what he has to do next.

Ghost shifts back as he rises to his full height. The automatic riffle that is often clipped to his hip is taken into both hands and aimed directly at my heart.

“Simon?” my voice trembles. He isn’t there.

“Toss the weapon to the side and put your hands behind your back,” Ghost commands. He doesn’t have to yell or threaten me. I defeatedly do exactly as he says.

The sounds of the soldiers grow louder. Their feet loudly echo through the cement halls. The rattle of their equipment can be heard over the alarm as the leader of the crew yells something indiscernible.

Six more weapons are aimed at my chest as they storm the room. Five of the faceless, towering figures line the wall, completely surrounding me. The last one approaches my father, drops his weapon, removes his gloves, presses two fingers to my father’s carotid artery, and checks for a pulse. Thirty silent seconds pass, and nothing.

He is finally gone.

All their attention returns to me. Ghost remains in the background as one of the new soldiers approaches with a pair of cuffs dangling from his hands. He doesn’t say anything as he closes the gap. The metal is cold around my wrists as the cuffs tighten and click into place.

I fight every urge to look at Ghost. All I want is the comfort of his eyes, to know everything will be all right. I can’t risk it, my every action is being monitored. Even the wrong kind of eye contact can be incriminating. How badly will they punish him? My stomach twists at the thought.

The masked man yanks me to my feet. My knees almost buckle with the unexpected pressure. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I nearly fall. I barely have time to adjust before the familiar black cloth bag is tugged over my head.

Darkness.

I’m reminded of how I was brought to 141 in nearly the same state. It feels like so much has changed and yet nothing is different. My whole life was burned to the ground, yet for them, this is just another day. I am merely a small blip on their radar, almost small enough to disregard completely, but not quite.

I hope I never see them again.

#simon riley #cod ghost #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #he knows #cod

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hheaven-sentt · 1 day ago

Text

blood and bone (II)

summary: you want to open him up like the bodies you're used to, and he wants to keep himself at an arm's length | leon kennedy x gn!reader

word count: 5k

warnings: gore, violence, language, panic attacks, child death, a bit of cringe, angst if you squint, death and dying, yearning and pining, probably incorrect medical happenings (again, everyone say thank you google)

notes: i thought i was done after this one but there's more i promise. i have written closer to 15k now, so be ready | ao3

one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s almost two weeks before you see Leon again. He left your apartment sometime before you woke up that night, probably escaping before it could get awkward. You pretend that you haven’t thought about it almost every second since, and he pretends it never happened. Both of you seem content with that.

“Hey, when you get a chance, can you see if Leon’s found anything about the mystery virus?” Rebecca asks one morning, spinning in her chair to look at you. You narrow your eyes in confusion.

“Why can’t you do it?” you ask. She smiles at you like she knows something you don’t.

“Don’t pretend like I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding each other,” she says, grinning. “One second he’s like your personal guard dog, and the next, you’re pretending he doesn’t exist,”

“He has his own job to attend to,” you say by way of explanation. Rebecca narrows her eyes at you. “He’s not my guard dog,”

“Just see if he’ll send us whatever he’s found,” she says. “He’ll be on site tomorrow,”

“Why?”

“Probably using it as an excuse to make sure you’re still breathing,” she teases. You hate the way your face heats up at the comment.

“I’m sure he has better things to do than check on me,” you say, but you’re not as confident in that anymore. Whatever he was doing that night, work related or otherwise, was pushed aside to make sure you were okay. The entire interaction gnaws at your stomach.

Easier that way, he had said. What did that even mean? How could it be easier to pretend to dislike someone? You always found it easier to be on people’s good side, not make them assume you hate them. The thought makes you frown.

Sure enough, you catch Leon in the hallway chatting to someone the next day. He looks good, comfortable. Whether you intend to or not, you fix your hair a bit before approaching.

“Got a second?” you ask, interrupting the conversation. The woman looks at you with a narrowed glare, but you keep your focus on Leon. He glances between you and the woman before nodding.

He follows you to your office, where he shuts the door behind him. You can’t tell why that makes you nervous. It isn’t often that you’re alone with Leon, and the last time you were, you felt far too giddy about it.

“Rebecca wanted me to ask if you’ve found anything on our mystery virus,” you say, wringing your hands together. “I’m sure you would’ve sent it to us already if you had,”

He shrugs. “A few leads here and there. I’ve sent most of it your way,”

You frown, your eyebrows bunching together. “Then why would she..?”

Oh. Curse Rebecca and her cunning nature. Your frown deepens. Leon seems to put the pieces together too, given the way he’s looking at you.

“Sorry to waste your time, then,” you say, looking at your shoes. “I’m sure your conversation with that woman was far more riveting,”

The words come out clipped even though you didn’t mean for them to. Your tone confuses you, like your brain is operating on its own accord.

“We were just chatting,” Leon says, taking a step forward. Your heart leaps into your throat. “Am I not allowed to do that?”

He’s smiling when you look up at him. It’s lopsided and teasing, and it makes your heart rate tick up.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you please,” you say, tone betraying you once again. So what if he pretends like you don’t exist, but then talks and laughs with a woman you’ve never seen before like they’re old friends? It has nothing to do with you.

“Are you…jealous?” he asks. The word comes out of his mouth like he’s mocking you, but you’re not sure he is. You scowl.

“No,” you say, though you’re unsure of how true that is. “Just apologizing for stealing you away for nothing,”

He’s full on grinning now. It makes your cheeks heat up and your insides churn. You hate whatever sickness he’s given you. Maybe you’ll call in sick tomorrow, just to be sure you don’t have a mystery virus of your own.

“I wouldn’t say it was nothing,” he says. “No harm in speaking to each other,”

You think there’s a lot of harm in speaking to him. Something’s changed about you when you’re around him. You’re unable to form coherent thoughts, unable to speak, and unable to act like he doesn’t affect you. You despise it, and despise him for making you this way. Maybe you caught a bug, a cold or something. That would explain away your symptoms.

“No, there’s not,” you say. “I have some work to do, but you’re welcome to wait around for Rebecca. I’m sure she’d have better questions for you,”

He nods, and takes a seat on top of a desk. He folds his legs under him. Your fingers twitch with the urge to reach out to him, but you refrain, and return to your work.

Leon makes it much harder to focus. He’s not even doing anything objectively annoying, unless you count his existence as annoying. Though you might; it’s definitely starting to feel that way. You can’t get through half a report without cutting a glance at him. Every now and then, he picks up a knick knack that’s made its home on your desk, inspects it thoroughly, and then returns it to its place. He does this several times, like he’s trying to dissect your brain without speaking to you. At one point, he picks up a picture of your family.

“Am I allowed to ask, or is that off limits?” he says, looking up at you for the first time since he sat down. You blink at him.

“I haven’t seen them in a few years,” you say. “They live in Oregon,”

He hums, inspecting the picture further. “You have a sister,”

“She’s two years younger than me,” you say, turning your chair to face him. “She’s got this big house and a husband, two kids and one on the way last I heard,”

“And where do they think you are?” he asks. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“They think I’m in Nicaragua right now, doing research on medicinal plants,” you say. There’s a distinct pain in your chest that radiates outwards towards your limbs. “I don’t have cell service there, so I haven’t spoken to them in almost a year,”

Leon frowns, setting the picture back down on your desk. “I’m sorry. That must be hard,”

You nod. “It is,” you say. “But it’s something we all have to do. It’s important to keep them at an arm’s length,”

“I know,” he says. “That doesn’t make it easier,”

“No, it doesn’t,”

The silence returns, but it’s strangely more comfortable. An itch blooms across your skin as you watch Leon. There’s something different about him, has been since you returned home. Sometimes, you find yourself thinking about the way his arms felt around you, and you almost wish he would do it again. For some reason, you think he would if you asked. It’s a working theory, one that has yet to be tested, but you’re nothing if not dedicated to science.

“I lost my parents when I was young,” he says, voice quiet even if you’re the only two in the room. “It’s not something I think about anymore, but I know how hard that could be,”

You feel like your heart freezes in your chest. Leon just told you something about himself, something that has no bearing on his wellbeing or the situation at hand. He’s being open, honest. You want to fling your arms around him and kiss him senseless.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead, your last bit of decorum holding you with two hands. “That must have been hard for you,”

He shrugs. “It was. But you learn to live with it,”

You nod. He’s watching you carefully, an emotion present on his face that you can’t discern. There’s a tension in the air, one that makes you nervous. You really want to reach out to him. You wonder about the way his skin might feel against yours. He’s all calloused palms, rough edges, and stunningly beautiful features. You didn’t even know people could be made this beautiful.

Rebecca cuts through the tension with her entrance. “Good, you’re both here,”

You blink away the interaction, hoping that it didn’t look as intense as it felt. “You need both of us?”

“Not really,” she says. “But it certainly makes my life easier,”

Rebecca bustles through the room, spreading a few pictures out on the desk in front of you. They’re all of ugly, mangled bodies. You wish she would’ve warned you before forcing you to look at them. All the bodies look more or less the same, and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if it weren’t for a few defining features on each of them. They look eerily similar to the one you dissected a few weeks ago. Missing fingers, toes, noses, jaws. Skin simply falling off their bones and collecting into a sinewy pool beneath them. It makes your stomach churn.

“These are all bodies collected at different sites,” Rebecca says. “See how they’re all in more or less the same condition? We think this might be our mystery virus,”

You nod, inspecting the pictures a bit closer. Leon looms over you to see, too, invading your space. You’re almost never this close to him, and when you are, he definitely doesn’t smell this good. You wrinkle your nose.

“Do we happen to have samples?” you ask, keeping your focus on the images. “I’d really like to cross examine them,”

“Way ahead of you,” Rebecca says. “They’re in the lab right now,”

You hum.

“When and where are these from?” Leon asks, turning the picture in front of you more towards him.

Rebecca moves in between you. “This one is from a few days ago, found only a few miles out from where you guys were. This one is from about a week before that, and it was found about a day’s walk out,”

You furrow your brows as you take in her information. Those two are definitely from the same site, and one could’ve wandered off.

“And this one?” you ask, pointing to the decidedly grosser one of the three.

“That’s just the thing,” Rebecca says. “This one was found here,”

“Here?” you ask, spinning to face her. “Like, here here?”

She shakes her head. “It was found out in New York. Still too close for comfort, though,”

You nod, taking a closer look at the picture.

“What are you thinking?” Leon asks in a hushed voice. You hate the way it crawls across your skin.

“I’m thinking that we need to take a trip to New York,” you say, locking your gaze with him. He grins at you like you’re sharing a secret. You feel your heart hammer in your ears.

“I’ll give Hunnigan a call,” he says, keeping his eyes on you. You finally return his grin.

With that, he’s up and out of the room quickly, bustling past Rebecca, who turns her gaze to follow him out of the room.

“What was that?” she asks, pinning you with a look. You shrug.

“Just excited about a lead,” you say, though you know there’s more to it. You try your best not to let it show on your face.

You return to your reports as best you can. Your brain is still swimming with the prospect of traveling to New York. Before, you’d been out in the middle of Iowa, but now you’re much closer. Although you feel like you’re onto something finally, the thought of it being on this side of the Mississippi frightens you. You try to shake the nerves. Rebecca keeps a watchful eye on you as you hammer through as many reports as you can. You’re certain she can feel your giddiness rolling off you in waves.

Leon wants to go with you. For the first time since you met him, he doesn’t seem completely disgusted with the idea of working with you. It makes you smile.

“I know you don’t have a lovesick grin on your face right now,” Rebecca says, bringing you back to the real world. You wipe the smile from your face.

“I don’t have a lovesick anything,” you say, cheeks growing warm. “The only sick I am is sick of you,”

Rebecca laughs, full and wide, and you know she’s just teasing. It makes you feel like a child. You remember how you felt in grade school when you’d liked one of the boys in your class. He was funny and smart, and he never made you feel outcasted by your interests. Obviously nothing came of it; you’ve always been timid and reserved. But you remember those feelings fondly. They’re akin to what you feel now.

The thought is sobering.

“Oh my God,” you say aloud, mostly to yourself. Rebecca eyes you as you turn to face her. “I have a fucking crush on Leon Kennedy,”

Rebecca sets her mouth into a line, attempting in earnest to withhold a laugh. “I could’ve told you that,”

You put your face in your hands to save yourself the shame of bearing your burning cheeks. You can even feel the spark of heat in the tips of your ears. Suddenly, you feel pathetic, weak.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumble. You’re not even sure Rebecca can hear you through the muffling of your hands. “I might just have to quit. Run away and start a new life. Fake my death,”

This time, Rebecca does laugh. She stands and puts her hands on your shoulders, and says, “There’s no need to do all that,”

“What other option is there?”

“Everyone has a little workplace crush,” she says, giving your shoulders a squeeze. “It happens to the best of us,”

You fold your arms on your desk and plop your head into the middle of them. You can’t bear to look Rebecca in the eye right now. “I hate this,”

With a pat, she says, “You’ll grow to love it,”

You’re back in the building two days later, bag slung over your shoulders as you wait on the helipad for Leon. You’re bouncing on your heels and shifting your weight between your feet as you anxiously await his arrival. You haven’t seen him since your little revelation, and the thought of spending who knows how much time alone with him is making you nervous. You smooth a hand over your hair.

You’re an adult, act like one, you think, gnawing on your lower lip. This is your worst nightmare. Whatever hell awaits you in New York is nothing compared to the churning of your stomach now.

Leon bursts through the door to the roof, jogging to meet you at the helicopter. “Sorry, I was running a bit behind,”

“You’re lucky we didn’t leave without you,” you quip, the corners of your mouth turning upward slightly.

“Good luck with that,” he says.

It’s only a few minutes until you’re up in the air. You’re hyper aware of the way your shoulder brushes his every few seconds with each jostle of the vehicle. You’re also aware of your breathing. Is it too fast? Too slow? Are you inhaling often enough? You feel like you’re pretending to be a person and this is your first day on the job. You wish you could go back to the cold indifference of before.

It’s almost two hours later when you finally touch down. In that time, you could’ve watched a movie and maybe started another one. Instead, you spent the time holding your breath and giving clipped responses whenever Leon asked if you were okay. The nerves are definitely getting to you. You feel your eye twitch.

You’re at another makeshift pop-up site. There’s a few tents scattered around, a lone porta-potty that makes you cringe, and a group of people awaiting your arrival.

“Listen,” Leon says, hand circling your elbow to keep you rooted in place. “I know you’re used to doing the grunt work, but you’re our star player right now. They’re going to want to talk to you,”

You frown. “Can’t you do it for me?”

Leon grins at you. “I don’t have that brain of yours,”

With a sigh, you nod. He releases your arm, and you sling your bag over your shoulder. The group contains four men and one woman, all of which look equally as intimidating. You feel out of place. These people are former cops, ex-military, and trained to shoot with their eyes closed. You just happened to know how to stitch people closed and read too much about medicine in your free time. The playing field was anything but level, and you were the one going uphill.

You approach them carefully, paying attention to how they react to you. They don’t move much, save for their eyes watching the way you shift on the balls of your feet as you come to stand in front of them.

“Glad you could make it,” the woman says. “We’ve been falling over ourselves trying to figure this out. We hope you can help us,”

You nod. “I intend to,”

There’s not much conversation after that. They lead you to a small tent that’s been set up. Your own workstation. You’ve never had one like this before. Usually, you pick a spot that’s been unclaimed until your arrival, and you only ever use it for injuries. Now, though, you were going to do real work. It almost excited you.

“I’m sure it’s probably different from what you’re used to,” the woman says, having followed you into the tent. You turn to consider her.

“Not really, honestly,” you say, shrugging. “It is nice to have my own space, though,”

She smiles. “We’ve been told you’re not usually ahead on cases, so I hope you know what you’re doing,”

You tilt your chin up a bit higher when you say, “I’m more than capable of handling it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have accepted my help,”

The woman nods, then leaves you to your devices. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She’s right, you’re not used to being a frontrunner on cases, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t figure it out. You shake the interaction from your bones as you begin setting up.

When Leon finds you later, he seems tired. You feel grateful that he did, in fact, do most of the talking, but you’re sure he’s exhausted from it. He settles down into a chair that’s been left askew in your set up process.

“I’d like to try to find one,” you say, not knowing how else to broach the subject. When you turn to look at him, Leon’s eyes are so wide that you’re worried they’ll fall out of his skull.

“No way,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s too dangerous,”

“I need to see how they operate,” you say. “We’ll never learn anything by studying their remains,”

He frowns. “You’ve learned a lot so far,”

“Not enough,” you huff, wringing your hands together. “I need to know what they do, what they eat, how long they live. I’ll never get that from a corpse,”

Leon grumbles, mulling the idea over in his brain. “There’s a thousand ways for this to go wrong,”

You smile. “You won’t let it,”

Leon comes to collect you the next morning. You’re clad in a pair of boots, an old pair of jeans, and a loose fitting t-shirt. You hope it’s good enough for whatever awaits you. Leon looks less than pleased to be bringing you along. He hasn’t given up his sour mood from the night before. You try to ignore it and the way it makes you feel.

You walk for most of the journey. You’re tailing behind Leon as he scouts the area, watching for anything that moves with ill intent. You’re not sure why. There’s nothing more than rabbits and deer where you are. It isn’t until you happen upon the ruins of what was once a small city that you begin to feel anxious. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but there’s definitely no going back now.

Buildings crumble around you. You can smell the smoke of fires that you can’t see, and the rotten stench of bodies isn’t making it any better. What was once asphalt is now gravel beneath your feet. It crunches under your weight with each step. It’s dystopian. There’s not a single sign of life, not even the chirp of a bird, for miles. Something lurches in your stomach.

You follow Leon towards the city’s center. There isn’t much happening, but there’s an air of apprehension. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. You gnaw on your bottom lip.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement. Leon sees it too, reaching around to push you further behind him. It’s a person, with jerky and inconsistent movements, hobbling along the broken road. Your breath catches in your throat. Leon ushers you behind a piece of broken concrete, giving you the perfect view of your subject.

It’s covered in blood. You’re not sure of its origin, but you don’t think you want to find out. It’s in a similar condition to the bodies you’ve seen: missing fingers and nose, a jaw that’s clinging to cheek, and skin seems to just roll off the muscle with each staggering step.

“I need to get closer,” you whisper. Leon looks like you’ve just told him you’re going to shoot yourself.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “You’re lucky we’re as close as we are,”

“I need to see it,” you say. Whatever pleading look is in your eye somehow works. You see some of the tension ease off of him. “Just..cover me, or whatever,”

With a curt nod, he shuffles back a step. You begin your crawl towards the creature. If it notices your movement, it doesn’t react. It continues its stumbling trek to whatever destination. You rise a bit as you approach, and this time, it turns towards you. You almost gasp, but manage to keep it within your lungs. It doesn’t have any eyes, just gaping, bloody holes where eyes should be. It’s wearing the pieces of a tattered dress. You hold your breath as it turns what should be its nose towards the sky like a dog. There’s a scent in the air that it catches. It moves with more ferocity in the direction of whatever it smells.

You turn back to Leon, who beckons you with his hand. You move to follow the creature. You wish you didn’t once you see what it’s after. The mangled corpse of a child stares up at you, unblinking. Her arms are twisted above her head, half eaten. She’s missing so much of herself. Your eyes turn watery as you turn and vomit on the concrete below you.

In your sputtering, you don’t notice the creature has now turned its sights on you. It approaches much quicker than you’ve seen it move, and you scurry backwards until your back connects with a piece of fallen debris. Your heart hammers in your chest as you try to collect your breathing. You hope it can’t hear your racing pulse or the quickness of your breath. Blood roars in your ears as it draws nearer, emitting a sound so inhuman that it makes you want to vomit again.

Two loud pops, and it collapses on top of your legs. In a panic, you kick it away, curling in on yourself once it’s been removed. You claw at your hair, breathing so quickly now that you’re sure you’ll pass out.

Leon’s in front of you seconds later, scanning you for injuries. You can’t breathe. You can’t do anything but stare at the creature and remember the corpse of that girl.

“Stop,” Leon says, pulling your hair free of your rigid fingers. “Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,”

You can’t even speak. You need something to grab. You grip onto Leon’s forearms with all your might. You’re definitely going to black out.

“You’re not going to black out,” he says, voice too calm for what you’re feeling and thinking. “That would be a real pain in my ass,”

Your breathing finally begins to slow, a pain in your chest radiating out towards your limbs. You look Leon in the eyes for the first time, and you feel instantly calmer. He’s here, he kept you safe, he’s helping you now.

“That’s right,” he says, voice low enough to be secretive. “I’m here. I’m here,”

You nod, mouth feeling dry. You’re babbling, thoughts coming out in words that you don’t even recognize. Your racing thoughts begin to slow. You blink hard a few times, trying to refocus. You can’t stop thinking about that creature.

“Eyes,” you say, voice hoarse like you’ve been screaming. Maybe you have.

“Eyes?”

“It didn’t have any eyes,” you say. Leon’s brow furrows in confusion. “Leon, it didn’t have any eyes,”

“Okay?” he says.

“Soft tissue,” you mumble, thinking. “The infection goes for soft tissues first,”

At this, Leon breaks out into a grin. “Good thing this trip wasn’t for nothing,”

“Bring it back with us,” you say, beginning to stand. Leon helps you to your feet. You don’t take your eyes off the collapsed body near you. “It was going to eat. It needs fuel. Not for the body, though. For the virus,”

Leon drags the body behind him. You’re not too concerned. It’s already so tattered and torn that any additional damage won’t matter much. It’s just too fresh to lose.

You arrive back at your site and lead Leon into your tent. He sets the body up on a table as you pull on a pair of gloves. You’re covered in dirt, so you’re not sure why you bother, but the thought of rooting around in the body with no additional layer makes you sick to your stomach. You get to work quickly, searching the body.

“I can’t believe I didn’t look for this earlier,” you mumble. Leon watches you carefully, like you’ll break at any moment.

“Look for what?” he asks. His voice is delicate and sweet. If it weren’t for the anxiety clenching your heart and the circumstances, you would kiss him.

“The stomach,” you say, cracking a few ribs. The sound is gentle, and the bones give way with little force.

You find the stomach after peeling back a few layers of muscle that have been reduced to almost nothing. It’s so thin and flimsy that you’re not even sure you could touch it without it disintegrating in your fingers. The innermost layers have been completely eaten away. The sight makes you giddy. A laugh bubbles up in your throat and a smile cracks across your dry lips.

The virus goes for soft tissues first. It eats them away. This explains the missing fingers and toes. It explains the jaws clinging onto life. Connective tissues are being corroded, which is causing the skin to slough off the bodies in pools.

“Oh my God,” you laugh, grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt. “Oh my God!”

Leon looks at you like you’re crazy, which you can’t blame him for. You’re clutching a half decomposed stomach in your hand and laughing like someone just told you the funniest joke. You’re certain you look crazy.

“I sure hope you figured something out,” Leon says, a teasing tone etched into the words. You laugh again.

“I think I did,” you say. “Let me close this up, and then I’ll fill you in,”

You make quick work of the clean up. You shuffle into a new pair of clothes after wiping the dirt from your skin as best you can. You find Leon, clean and comfortable, sitting in a chair in your tent. Your skin sizzles under his gaze, and you try to remember the events of the day. They’re tinged pink by his presence.

“Gonna tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours?” he asks, smiling slightly at you. “Or do I have to guess?”

You roll your eyes, sitting across from him. “I was getting there,”

You pull a few files out of a box from under the work table. You dig through them for a minute before handing them to Leon.

“What are these?” he asks, looking at you through his lashes. You grin, feeling giddy from your knowledge and his stare.

“Our virus,” you say, breathless.

Leon furrows his brows and begins flipping through the files. When he’s finished reading, he looks up at you, grinning like you’ve told him the greatest news in the world. He stands, rereading the file and pacing. You stand, too, mostly because you can’t sit anymore.

“You’re a genius,” he says, softly, sweetly. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“I knew I’d seen something like this before,” you say, voice a bit far off. “It’s been modified somehow, but that’s our virus,”

Leon discards the file on top of a cabinet. There’s a tension in the room now, one that makes you feel a bit smaller. You’re drunk on his praise. You want him to think you’re smart and funny and kind. And you want him to tell you so.

He approaches you quietly, soft steps entering your orbit. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Thank you,” you say. “For earlier,”

“Don’t thank me,” he returns, studying you. “But don’t ever do that to me again,”

Your cheeks heat up. You wonder, for a moment, if he’s going to kiss you. You want him to. You really want him to. You think you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything. Gently, far more gentle than you’ve ever beheld, he takes one of your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. You fight the urge to look away from him.

“Please don’t ever do that to me again,” he says. His voice is so soft, like he’s sharing a secret with you. Maybe he is.

“I’ll try not to,” you say, equally as quiet.

For a moment, there is nothing else around you. No stark white tent, no decaying corpses, no danger. Just him. He smells like cedar and smoke. His skin is so smooth up close, so perfectly crafted. His delicate features are so beautiful; soft lips, dimpled chin, round cheekbones.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but hesitates. Instead, he gives your hand a squeeze and takes a step away from you. You feel a stutter in your heartbeat.

Easier that way.

Easier at an arm’s length.

You’re not sure you want easy anymore.

#m writes #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #my fics #x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

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greenorangevioletgrass · 8 hours ago

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shorn the sheep (a.d. x t.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x tashi donaldson

Summary: the origin story of Art's shorn sheep haircut.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: just family fluff really, art is a puppy but whats new, pre-canon (or in between canon timelines ig)

Notes: my first arttashi fic! Life is crazy but I was inspired enough to write this in two sittings sooooo enjoy! please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Art Donaldson likes routines.

He eats the same breakfast every morning –eight eggs and a bowl of oatmeal. Takes the same shower stall in the locker room and does the same pre-match routine down to which shoe he puts on first. He has had the same team behind him for most of his career, from coaches and physios to his lawyers and publicists. He generally goes to the same guy for his haircut too, but he’s in Tokyo for the Japan Open. And while his outgrown curls are starting to piss him off, flying his barber halfway across the world just seems excessive.

Although… looking in the mirror now, he can’t help but wonder if he should’ve done that instead.

Maybe it’s the language barrier (which is more of Art’s fault for his general lack of knowledge in hair-related terms, because the hairdresser speaks English just fine), but what he asked for was definitely not what he got. Then again, maybe he wasn’t being super clear on what he means by ‘tidying it up a little.’

So with a polite straight-lined smile, Art nods and pays and ducks out into the busy Tokyo street. Out of courtesy (or so he convinces himself), he waits until he turns the corner to put his hoodie up over his head.

Ever the drama queen, he only takes it off when he enters the hotel suite, finding his wife sitting on the dining table.

“They fucked up my hair.”

Tashi looks up from her laptop, and the first thing she notices isn’t even the hair. It’s the same pout, same tone she normally sees in Lily at bedtime, which only makes her chortle.

“Goddammit…” Art groans. Is it even worse than he thinks? He pulls the hood back up and tugs at the string until the fabric scrunches around his face.

He turns around towards the bedroom, but Tashi stops him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. She loosens the tight strings on the hood, so she can see his new hair properly. Her French manicured nails cards through the short locks, scratching his scalp the way she knows he likes. Her eyebrows furrow in focus as she scrutinizes the length and texture in relation to his face.

“It looks fine to me,” she eventually decides, pushing the top part to the side towards his natural part.

“No it’s not. It’s too fucking short.” Art huffs, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

Tashi hums, feeling the buzzed ends on the nape of his neck. She’s never felt it this short on him—she’s been there through it all; the mop when he was younger, the swoopy Prince Charming look he had just before this, and even that one year where he grew his hair out past his shoulders. She can definitely say that she doesn’t hate this one. “It’s just shorter, is all.”

“Makes my ears look even bigger than they already are,” he murmurs into the skin of her shoulder, his annoyance dissipating into sulking petulance in the comfort of her scent and general embrace.

“Maybe it’ll make you more aerodynamic, Dumbo.” Tashi fiddles his earlobe playfully.

He bites at her shoulder in gentle warning, earning a little laugh from her. “That’s not funny.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it.” She grins and shrugs. “Art—”

“Come on, this is serious.”

Tashi laughs incredulously. “What is?”

“I’m playing in my Uniqlo gear for the first time tomorrow, and the only thing people are gonna talk about is my hair.”

“I sure fucking hope they’re gonna talk about your game more than your new hair or clothes.”

There’s always a very subtle shift whenever Tashi is talking in coach mode. It doesn’t happen often, but it ticks her off whenever his attention strays off of what’s important. But Art pulls his head up and shoots her an unamused, almost defiant glare. He’s not having it.

He’s been trying not to stress out about it, but his new endorsement deal with Uniqlo is so well-covered (and for good reason—he signed a ten-year deal worth $30 million.) and wearing the brand for the first time on their home ground is a big deal. She knows that.

Art will gladly say it as often as he needs to (and he feels like he doesn’t say it often enough), but he loves Tashi. Her beauty is a no-brainer, but above all, he loves her tenacity and efficiency in her work. It’s why he listens to her, and it’s why he’s been playing better than ever since she joined his side.

Tashi sighs a little, realizing that maybe he doesn’t need a coach right now. “And look, it fits into the clean-cut, preppy aesthetics you got. I don’t see how this can be bad press for Uniqlo, either.”

She does so much for him —eats, lives, and breathes him— and sometimes he feels bad for asking. But he eats, lives, and breathes her just as much as she does, and he craves her constantly. Her firm chides, her sharp wit, her soft side, her fury… Most of the time, he needs a combination of at least two of them, even though he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Can we like… not make this about work?”

He doesn’t need to. She knows.

Tashi softens, rubbing his arms up and down as he pulls her closer. “Baby… it looks good on you.”

Art rolls his eyes skeptically. He can’t help but feel like she needs to say that now.

“It really does! What do you want me to say?” She chuckles, nuzzling his face with her nose. “Hey. You know I’ll be the first one to tell you if it looks stupid, right?”

Art sighs. Tashi has never been very generous with compliments, and he actually likes that about her. She knows how to really make it count. “I know, but—”

“But it doesn’t. You actually look really good. And I… I like that I can see you better this way.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have hair flopping over your eyes like a sheepdog anymore.”

Art gives her a playful smack in the butt, but at least he’s smiling now. And despite pushing him physically and mentally for a living, Tashi likes making him smile.

“But you like it?”

Her hand returns to his head, getting the hang of caressing it. “Baby, it’s your hair.”

Art relaxes into her touch. He’s gone beyond seeking validation, and has fully entered clingy territory at this time. “Yeah, but you’re gonna be looking at it all the time,” he pouts dramatically. “I don’t want you to hate it.”

“I already told you. I like it.” Tashi cups his face, her thumb drawing faint circles on his cheek. The hair is cropped short enough that it doesn’t even curl anymore on the crown. But the patch of brown in his blue eyes is out in plain sight. The line of his nose is knife-sharp, and she can’t help but remember how it parts her thighs right open. “I like looking at your face like this.”

Art’s mouth quirks to the right. He likes coaxing sweet nothings out of her like no other. “So you just like my face?”

Tashi bites the inside of her left cheek. “I do. I like your face.”

Art pulls her into a sweet kiss, and Tashi happily meets him halfway. He wonders if the butterflies would ever cease one day, but until then, he’s gonna relish in it entirely. Wholeheartedly. Selfishly.

Until…

“Daddy, you’re back!” the unmistakable squeal of their 2-year-old cuts through the quiet, followed by the pitter-patter of her little feet.

Art reluctantly lets go of his wife in exchange for their daughter, throwing the former a fond, knowing look. “Hey, Lilybug!” He scoops her tiny frame up into his arms and peppers kisses all over her cute face.

Lily giggles, arms flailing and pushing him around until Art lets up. It’s only then that the little girl manages a good look at him. She gasps. “Daddy, your hair!”

Art’s heart stops. He never thought a toddler’s opinion would mean so much to him, but he plasters a faux-oblivious look for her. “What about my hair, baby?”

“It’s so… little!”

Tashi chuckles. And so does Art, although he does so in surprise. Of all the adjectives in the English language (that they’ve taught Lily anyway), he didn’t expect it to be little. But in a way, he’s glad. It takes the edge off a little.

“Do you like it, though?” Art turns his head side-to-side and lets Lily assess him, and his heart stutters a little.

Lily has a habit of picking up Tashi’s brutal honesty. Truth be told, she is the spitting image of her mother. She tilts her head the same way, sports the same thoughtful pout too. He may have been off the hook with Tashi, but it would be stupid to have his confidence crushed by the miniature version of her.

Eventually, though, Lily grins and nods. Art breathes out a sigh of relief, while Tashi looks at him like, see?

Lily puts her tiny hands on Art’s cheeks the same way her mother does, fingers flicking on her father’s earlobes. She giggles again. “Daddy looks like my sippy cup.”

Tashi laughs out loud this time. Art is not amused.

But he’ll take it. He scowls playfully and makes a face, pretending to be the sippy cup in question, eliciting more laughter from his girls.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x tashi donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers fic #tashi donaldson #ava writes #eeeee my first ship fic in AGES!!!!

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cherrybomb107 · 1 day ago

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I see people saying that Silco ultimately had Zaun’s best interests at heart, but I disagree. I think HE definitely thinks that, but at the end of the day, actions speak louder than words. Silco didn’t act like a revolutionary. He acted like a wannabe Piltie who disguised his rhetoric with vague plans of rebellion and monologues 😭😭😭

Disclaimer: I love Silco! He’s one of my favorite characters in Arcane and I think he was a fabulous villain. Not quite THE big bad(that title is reserved for the institution of Piltover and its apathy and downright callousness towards the Undercity) but he was definitely a villain at the end of the day. No amount of “nuance” or “character complexity” is gonna erase that

Let’s start with the obvious: the fact that he fully planned on killing Powder before she launched herself into his arms and he realized how similar they were. I’m sorry, but in my mind, no one who’s willing to kill children is a revolutionary. Sorry. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️Only reason why he didn’t is because he saw himself in her. If he truly believed in revolution, he could’ve done youth outreach programs to get young people involved in protests, and given them classes on what to do/how to prepare for when the enforcers show up to shut them down. That’s a real thing that’s been done before btw. I know Arcane is fiction, but it deals with politics that mirror our real world struggles. If Silco actually backed up his claims of wanting freedom for Zaun, he’d do things like this.

To continue this, the creation of Shimmer. Silco claims it’s needed in order to give Zaunites the strength they need to fight back against Piltover. Which, again, I’m sure he believes that, but come on. Creating a monopoly on a highly addictive drug that permanently disfigures its users when they take too much is not the way to go about it. Modeling the capitalist system of Piltover is ultimately not going to help. Shimmer does make people feel empowered, yes. But that empowered feeling doesn’t last long, and when you come down from your high, all you want is more, more, more. So where does that leave you?

It leads you to living out on the streets, willing to do anything for your next hit. That’s what happened to Huck, and we don’t even know how many others. Silco never once expressed concern for the wellbeing of the addicts that he created! What kind of revolutionary would toss his own people to the side when they’re no longer useful to him?

Speaking of the drugs, why does he have children working in his factories? Now, child labor is a very complex issue. I’m from the States, so we’re generally (or we claim to be anyway) against child labor. In other countries however, children not only work, but they protest and fight for their right to work. They take pride in their work. So I don’t want to debate the morality of child labor. I wanted to bring it up for the sake of the argument. Let’s say that child labor is a cultural norm in the Undercity. That brings me back to my original question: why does Silco have kids working in his factories? Child labor isn’t the issue; it’s the kind of labor they’re doing and the level of danger they could be in. What kinds of things are the kids that work in Silco’s factories responsible for? Do they get equal pay to their adult counterparts? Worker’s comp if something happens/they get injured on the job? Are there even protections in place so that there are little to no injuries? These are questions which we can’t even begin to answer, because Silco never brings it up!

He never talks about the ways in which he sets out to improve not just the lives of child laborers in Zaun, their adult counterparts, or people in Zaun, period! He only ever talks about “the nation of Zaun” in the abstract. Never once does he sit down and ask himself if this is the best way to go about it. I’m pro revolution. I absolutely believe that the people of Zaun have the right to fight back against their oppressors. But, with the way Silco was acting, he functionally became another oppressor.

Let’s say he was able to make a deal with Jayce and secure the Undercity’s freedom without having to sacrifice Jinx. What would that even look like? What does Silco know about running a government? How would he address the population of Shimmer addicts he manufactured? You can’t just get rid of/stop the production of Shimmer and leave those people without support! It’s true that the air was cleaner under Silco’s reign. But “cleaner” is the operative word. Doesn’t mean it was completely clean. And if people in Zaun didn’t even have clean air, who’s to say they had access to clean water and good food? Did Silco ever do anything to address those issues or did he, along with the rest of the chembarons, acquire enough capital to tell working class and underprivileged Zaunites “fuck you, I got mine”?

To summarize, Silco SAYS he wants freedom from Piltover’s oppression. He SAYS he wants to give his people the power to fight back. But actions speak louder than words. I can’t think of a single action that Silco took that benefited anyone outside of him and those closest to him. Realistically speaking he would have been a terrible leader for Zaun, and it all would’ve fallen apart when he died/was killed for his lack of leadership skills. It was only a matter of time imo.

Did he ever truly want to remove the boot from the Undercity’s neck? Or did he just want to be the one wearing it? I’m leaning towards the latter. But maybe that’s just me.

#arcane #silco #arcane silco #silco did not have the undercity’ s best interests at heart #i will die on this hill #he definitely thought he was doing the right thing #but that doesn’t mean he actually was doing the right thing #it wouldn’t have ended well anyway because silco was reactionary not revolutionary #he never prioritized the people of zaun #just the nation of zaun as an abstract concept #a far off dream #i was rambling tbh #arcane meta

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fatimabb · 2 days ago

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two - does this count

just us - oikawa x reader x atsumu uni! au

all you can do is hope that one day, the stars will align’’ leaving the love of your life left you in shambles, and the world kept spinning. while the world kept spinning, one door closed and another had opened. though, that first door wasn’t quite shut.

word count - 1.2k

Man it sucks seeing him like this.

Tooru, with another girl. You with Atsumu. Everything looks really bad right now.

And the cherry on top, he doesn’t even glance at you. Not even a little peek.

Your heart clenches, this is so embarrassing. Seeing the man you’re so obviously in love with, talking to a beautiful woman. You feel jealous, you feel heartbroken, and most of all: you feel guilty.

And while you witness his whole interaction, Atsumu is staring at you. He’s very confused. He follows your line of sight and tracks it straight to Oikawa.

“Hey, um.. Ms. tutor? Are ya lookin’ at Oikawa?” he asks, “Yer like a a fan girl or somethin’?” he sighs rubbing the back of his head.

His words wake you from your thoughts. Now you feel bad, you just completely ignored him and now you look like an idiot.

“Oh no!” you reply, “I was looking at something else sorry.” you sigh.

One thing about Atsumu is he can read people like a book. Seems pretty helpful in both volleyball and in the real world. “Hey, I’m honestly super desperate to study so, let’s get outta here?..” he says winking.

You smile lightly at his words. “Yeah totally, I didn’t drive here though, so we would have to take your car.” you say.

“Yeah, it’s right there.” he says pointing to a nice white truck as he presses a button on his car keys. The lights flash to signal it’s on.

And that’s when, Tooru glances slightly. And that when he finally notices you with another guy, and that guy is Atsumu Miya. His brows furrow and he blurs out the girl in front of him.

In retrospect, it did look like you broke up with Tooru to get with someone else but, it also looked like Tooru was trying to rebound within the week of your breakup. Both you and Tooru knew that.

So, as you and Atsumu get into the car, Tooru stares at you with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

You prop yourself into the passenger seat, feeling an awkward tension between you and him. You don’t know anything about this boy, just that he’s “intellectually challenged” and he plays volleyball.

“So, was that yer ex boyfriend or somethin’?” Atsumu asks as he situates himself in your car.

You look at him with an awkward smile. “Oh, yeah. We broke up a few days ago..” you say quietly, “How could you tell?”

“Oh I’m just really good at reading people.” he says with a small smile. “Sorry to hear about that.”

“Thanks, let’s get off this topic though. Where should we go to study?” you ask trying to lighten the mood.

“We can go to my place? If yer comfortable with that.” he says as he puts his seatbelt on.

“Fine by me.” you say, as he starts the car. The lights in the car turn on and you hear the engine turning on.

Atsumu puts the car in reverse and places his hand behind your leather seat, looking behind to see where he’s pulling out of the parking lot.

You won’t deny it. Atsumu is really hot. His confident grin, tousled blond hair, athletic build, and a magnetic charm. He was known well around the for.. getting around. So, maybe going to his place might insinuate something.

Once you got to his place, the mood shifted.

It was supposed to be harmless, productive—nothing more. But as you sit on the edge of his couch, flipping through notes you can barely focus on, it feels like there’s something heavier in the air.

Atsumu daze lingers across from you, the relaxed smile he always wears still on his lips, but his glance flickers toward you every so often, like he’s waiting for something.

A question hangs between you both, one neither of you have spoken aloud.

“Yer awfully quiet,” he says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is soft, uncharacteristically so, and it catches you off guard.

You glance up, meeting his gaze. “Just distracted,” you murmur, though you know it’s more than that. You’ve been distracted for days, maybe weeks.

The memory of Oikawa lingers in your mind—his familiar smile, the unresolved words that still tug at your heart.

Atsumu watches you closely, the way you chew at the inside of your lip, the way your fingers clutch the notebook too tightly.

“Is it ‘bout Oikawa” he says, more of a statement than a question.

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locking with yours. “Because I know what it looks like when someone’s carryin’ too much,” he says, his tone soft but firm. “And I don’t like seein’ that.”

You blink, surprised by the depth in his words. Atsumu—loud, confident, brash Atsumu—wasn’t usually one for quiet moments like these. Yet here he is, watching you with more care than you expected, more patience than you thought he was capable of.

“It’s not that simple, Atsumu,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “He… Oikawa, I mean, he was everything. And then, suddenly, he wasn’t. I just don’t know if I can move on.”

Atsumu’s expression softens, his eyes holding a gentleness you’re not used to seeing. “Ya don’t have to move on right away,” he says, shifting to sit beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his presence. “But… ya gotta stop lettin’ him hold ya back. He’s not here. I am.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, cutting through the fog of confusion and hurt that’s been clouding your mind for months. He’s right. Oikawa isn’t here, hasn’t been since the breakup.

You feel the tears well up, and before you can stop them, one slips down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Atsumu interrupts, his voice gentle. He reaches out, his hand hesitating for a moment before settling on your shoulder. “It’s okay. Ya don’t have to apologize for feelin’ stuff.”

You look at him, really look at him, and see the sincerity in his expression. He’s not trying to push you, not trying to be something you’re not ready for. He’s just… there. And that’s enough.

“You make it sound so easy,” you murmur, your voice cracking slightly.

“It’s not easy,” he admits, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s worth it.”

For a long moment, you sit in silence, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hanging between you.

“Ya don’t have to have it all figured out,” he says softly, leaning back and giving you space but keeping his presence close. “Just… let me be here for ya, okay?”

You nod, feeling something shift inside you. It’s not a full release—Oikawa’s still there, still part of you—but it’s a start. And maybe, just maybe, Atsumu’s right. Maybe you don’t have to carry it all on your own anymore.

“So does this count as a study session?” he says trying to lighten the mood with a cheeky smile.

You laugh while fixing yourself. “Sure.”

#haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu #miya astumu #oikawa tooru #atsumu x reader #oikawa x reader #anime

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iknowher · 1 day ago

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　　𝜗℘　🍹　‚ 　𝐊ISS 𝐌E﹗

　𓍢🌴　sum.　𓂃　what happens when your boss get pregnant, and you're forced to take care of her office in sweet ol' paris? 　𓍢🍍　cw.　𓂃　no smut but does have sexual undertones. reader gets called pet names quite often.. and described as female. emily in paris spoilers (not major) 　𓍢🌊　wc.　𓂃　~2.5k ⠀ ۪ ⠀✿　my note！　so.. this is heavily inspired by emily in paris 'cus i honestly think it's a good series imo

you lived in a suburban area, somewhere in nagoya. you also heard stories about paris— that it was the city of love. the longer you think about it, the more you get nauseous. it started with one phone call. you quickly hurried to it as it started ringing an obnoxious loud tone. you grabbed the phone rapidly, curious on who it was. with a swipe of your finger to the right, you picked up. you still recognized that voice— it was your boss. ‘’hey!’’ she said in a cheery manner, the audio was quite glitchy the more she spoke and some parts weren’t even audible— it wasn’t strange, she lived in central tokyo.

‘’hi? is there anything?’’ you asked in a polite manner, wondering why she was calling at 1 am. you were in the bathroom, getting ready to go to bed peacefully. ‘’yeah— sooo.. i’m pregnant.’’ ‘’HUH? what? when? how—’’ she interrupts you in the middle of your rambling by letting out a chuckle. ‘’silly. that doesn’t matter. but what does matter is i’m going on preg’ leave.’’ she thinks for a moment, ‘’ah… also, i need you to take care of my office in paris..’’ she trails off, not sure if you were going to be happy about it— you didn’t really have a choice. your eyes light up, it was like a kid getting invited to disneyland— but this was much better than disneyland. this was PARIS. the city of looooove. your crowded thoughts quickly disappear when she says, ‘’remember, it’s for 6 months. and it’s no vacation, you still gotta work.’’ you frown, knowing that you’d still have to be forced to partake in boring ass projects. ‘’sounds good. when?’’

‘’tomorrow.’’ your heart basically drops, seriously? tomorrow? dammit— now you’d have to worry about packing in, instead of sleeping like normal. and is it even that good? you’d probably have to learn french, the culture.. everything that comes along with it. wait— hold on. how could you forget? you also had a boyfriend here, in japan. and you’d somehow have to beg him to come to paris with you— but he’s basically a workaholic! you hang up on your bosswithout realizing it, you were frantically calling nanami. ‘’hello, darling?’’ he says in a puzzled tone to the phone’s speaker. ‘’oh. yeah, hi nanami— something supa’ important.’’ you weren’t sure how you’d tell him, i mean… it’s such a big responsibility for you, and for him.. you didn’t even know where he’d work at. maybe the office you were at? maybe he doesn’t even like working there. you were so clueless, but you just decided to say it straight-up. ‘’i’m going to paris. tomorrow. you’re coming with me!’’ you hadn’t realized it yet, but you were begging him. ‘’what..?’’ he stammers, confused what you were talking about it. ‘’honey— you know i can’t come to paris. and definitely not tomorrow.’’ ‘’nanami. this is no vacation— i’m going there for 6 months. for work. my (former) boss is going on pregnancy leave, and i have to take care of her office in paris.’’ you try to explain, not sugarcoating anything.

‘’sorry, i can’t do it.’’ he said in a stern manner, a huge contrast to your behavior. your heart double-dropped. what is this feeling? heartbreak? probably. ‘’and. i don’t wanna do long distance…’’ you furrow your eyebrows, was he.. breaking up with you? instead of responding, you hung up.

who cares? you’d had bigger issues anyway. right?? like packing in for, for paris! oh no.. you were one minor inconvenience away from a full-blown breakdown. you hurried to grab a stable suitcase. let’s not talk about the metallic hello kitty pattern on it. you were sure people were gonna comment on it, but whatever. confidence is key! (damn, you can recite positivity quotes like a song in your head— but that’s not gonna help anything)

you waddled to the closet, to shove as much as you can in your suitcase. are you sure that’s not a bit overboard..? you knew deep down you’d probably be forced to pay a mandatory fee for your fatass luggage. you put other basic amenities in, till your case couldn’t even be shut. is this overpackeritis? if so, you were probably diagnosed with it. you had to take some (a lot) of items, even your most memorable ones! like your hello kitty hairbrush. oh god. we’re not a hello kitty girl, right? even though it’s only been, what, 10 minutes? you felt your hands cramp up from carrying that heavy suitcase to one room to another. it’s good that you finished packing in. you walked— no, jumped on your bed before falling fast asleep. wow, that’s one sure way to get over a breakup… by sleeping it off! ring.. ring.. ring.. you heard your doorbell go off like 5 times. ‘’madam! mademoiselle! you are going to miss your flight!’’ the male.. and presumably french taxi driver shouts from the door. you rubbed your eyes, before quickly heading downstairs with your suitcase in hand. shit! you were still wearing your horrid statement shirt.. and batman pyjama pants? people were gonna think you weren’t good in the head. oh, whatever— you overslept, so now you have to go through the consequences of not being able to dress into something more appropriate. you open the door, awkwardly hiding your questionable fashion choices away from the taxi driver. ‘’hey.. um.’’ you smiled, and the second he turned around, you made sure to step out of the door. (and wow! you now magically have your phone in your hand and passport in the other.) you made sure to lock the door before catching up with the taxi driver. you weren’t sure if that was a weird glance from him.. you stepped in the car, it was probably a toyota. the interior was all-black, but it was still somewhat clean. sure, some dust particles in the crevices, however it was much better than the other cars you were in. (like nanami’s one— maybe that’s a bit too petty...) as soon as you put on your seatbelt, the person starts driving.. a bit too fast. sir, it’s a 25 mph street…! you don’t say anything, just hoping that he wouldn’t drive a kid over. he probably has a driver’s license (you hope), so it doesn’t matter. you look outside the window, before realizing you weren’t gonna see your house anymore for.. 6 months.

hmm.. before even realizing it— you were already at the nagoya chubu airport. ‘’have a good day, madam.’’ the taxi driver smiles faintly before heading off. you turn around, never having realized the sheer size of an airport. and even though it was still early, there were loads of people. tons of commotions in every part of the air terminal. you honestly felt overwhelmed, but you powered through and found the lane you needed to be at. LANE 6, TIME: 06:30 (or 5:30 am for the americans…) fast forward to when you finally arrive in paris. wait, not yet, you were still at the paris charles de gaulle airport. you were getting picked up by someone. he had beefy arms, you swear a vein would pop if he tried flexing it. he also had huge tits, i mean a huge chest. before you could stare any longer, he looked down at you. sure, he was attractive, but also damn intimidating..! ‘’what are ya starin’ at?’’ he lets out a scoff. ‘’hurry up and get in the car.’’ he opens the car door for you, hey, atleast that was polite. you nod, hurriedly getting in the BMW car. it was significantly less clean, some cigarette packs scattered throughout, a lot of dust.. and even a cobweb in the corner. you felt a lump grow in your throat, but you still wanted to know some information about him. ‘’wha.. what’s your name?’’

‘’toji. toji zenin.’’ he clenches the steering wheel. you recognize that last name! it being a somewhat well-known clan in japan. ‘’ah.. why are you in paris then?’’ he lets out a scoff, turning his head around and getting a good look at your face. ‘’cus’ i’m a broke ass bitch.’’ he points to the cigarette pack. ‘’pass me that.’’ he says in a non-polite way. you hesitate, wanting to be petty— but you didn’t wanna get clapped by him (but he definitely could in the bedroom). you give him the cigarettes, there were only 2 left in the red packaging. ‘’and the lighter, idiot.’’ you pass him the rusty lighter, you just saw from the amount of leftover cigarettes in the car that he must’ve been a heavy chainsmoker. he opens the window, lighting up the cig’. ‘’what’s your name, darlin?’’ he looks in the rearview mirror of the car to see the nervous look on your face, letting out a chuckle before shifting his attention to the road in front of him. ‘’um.. just call me whatever.’’ he raises an eyebrow, ‘’anything..? mmm.. so i can call you a whore. got it.’’ he says in an annoyingly sarcastic manner. you let out an inner-scoff. that’s not what i meant…! you say to yourself seriously? whore? you bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to answer. ‘’it was a joke, cutie. don’t take it seriously.’’ he says, putting the attention on the look of your face. he throws the cigarette out of the slightly open window before taking up the speed by a few notches. you soon arrive at the apartment your boss assigned to you. it was located near the office. ‘’ey, what’s your number?’’ you hesitate, not wanting to give your number to a random taxi driver and certainly not someone who nearly called you a whore— but ah.. he was certainly a fine guy… soo, whatever. you speak up, ‘’um.. it’s xxx-xxx-xxx.’’ you notice him writing it down on a small piece of paper. ‘’got it. have a fine day, darlin.’’ he slyly smirks before you open the car door and hurriedly go to your apartment door. it was on floor 4.. you think. you carry the luggage inside just to notice.. there’s no fuckin’ elevator?!

you’d have to carry this up 4 floors… you walk upstairs for what seems like an eternity. you try to open the door, before you hear someone stepping up to the door— huh? wasn’t this your apartment. the door creaks open to a blue-eyed male with frosty white hair. ‘’mmm? who’s this?’’ he keeps the door open by leaning his arm against it. ‘’i.. believe this is my apartment?’’ he looks confused for a moment. ‘’ah… on which floor are you supposed to go?’’ ‘’floor.. 4?’’ his smirk turns into a full blown smile. ‘’silly ass. in france, the first floor for you is the ground floor for us. so you have to go up one floor.’’

you let out a huff that was a bit too audible, because he quickly notices the luggage behind you. ‘’you want me to help you carry that? i assume you’re from japan?’’ he looks you up and down, nearly letting out a laugh when he notices what you’re wearing. you furrow your eyebrows, ‘’yea, how do you know?’’ he puts his hands in his pockets. ‘’pfft.. oh, nothing— you totally don’t have a sanrio suitcase. don’t worry, i’m from japan too.’’ you hesitate, he didn’t look remotely japanese— not to be stereotypical or anything, but he had white hair and horrifying blue eyes. traits that aren’t normal in japan.. or really, anywhere else. ‘’why are you looking like that? i really am~’’ he nudges your shoulder as he carries your suitcase upstairs. ‘’why are you in france, anyway?’’ he shrugs, ‘’cause japan got too boring.’’ eh.. too boring? he wasn’t here for work or anything.. but just ‘cause he felt like it? ‘’how rich are you?’’ i mean, he lived in central paris— the capital of france, usually apartments don’t come too cheap. you both walk up to the apartment you should’ve been at. ‘’rich enough to buy a mansion in every country.’’ a grin appears on his face. ‘’even that may be an understatement.’’ your eyes widen, an understatement? you could hardly even afford to live in nagoya. his comment didn’t even make that much sense, if he can buy a mansion in every country— why would he live in a small apartment then? you open the door, noticing that the apartment is largely already decorated by who you assume was your former boss. ‘’i did jujutsu for decades. basically since i was born.’’ he adds onto his sentence. he walks in your apartment with you. ‘’wow, not bad. it’s hard to buy houses like this in paris. i’m speaking from experience, they don’t like tourists in france.’’ he looks around. you hurry to the closed curtain, before opening it to reveal a view nearby the eiffel tower. your jaw literally dropped. you frantically grabbed your phone out of your pocket to take a dozen pictures of the magnificent view. your boss must’ve bribed someone to buy this apartment— because you could’ve only dreamed about being able to see the eiffel tower so close. you noticed your instagram username.. me.in.nagoya but now you changed it to me.in.paris. you turned around, not having noticed it till now.. but damn, whoever this man was, he was undoubtedly the most charming person you’ve seen.. ‘’my name’s gojo.’’ he looks at you in a way that makes you clench your thighs together. his grin drops in a confused stare. ‘’is there something, princess?’’ he asks. ‘’nothing.. but..’’ you tug his shirt, giving him a clear and bold sign on what you wanted. his eyes glanced up and down, raising an eyebrow. ‘’ah.. i dunno~ we just met!’’ he said in a teasing manner, but you knew he was somewhat serious. ‘’pleaseeee?’’ safe to say your begging did not help. you walked up to the office with a ridiculous suit, even though french people may be fashionable.. you really stood out (in a bad way). you noticed people looking at you in a questionable manner. you hurried to your personal cubicle that was in the corner of the huge building. a woman with a brown bob walked up to you, her look was so serious— and even intimidating. ‘’madam? as-tu besoin de quelque chose?’’ what? you didn’t understand even a bit of french, sure, maybe oui and bonjour but other than that you were clueless. the look on your face said everything. ‘’ah.. no french? pas un autre touriste stupide…’’ stupide? sure, you didn’t know french, but stupide probably meant stupid. and touriste.. tourist.. wait, she was basically calling you a stupid tourist. tumblr isn't letting me write more than this.

ㅤ﹏ㅤ🌸ㅤwork belongs to @ iknowher,, do not plagiarize my works！ ˡᵐᵏ ⁱᶠ ⁱ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ²

#jujutsu #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #divider by anitalenia #iknowher

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