#I probably sound a bit harsh when I talked about what I wanted the show to do
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yami268 · 16 days ago
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Top 5 fav storm hawks characters? (BUT you can't use Snipe XD)
Very Well. Challenge Accepted.
Carver
What solidified Carver as a favorite for me was the episode ‘Second Chances’. While I did assume the twist, I like how they presented him as cunning and charismatic. He pretty much had everyone almost believe that Aerrow was under mind control. The other thing is that his reason for it was him being petty that he got beaten. I figured he has a hero complex and I would’ve loved it if he was in the show more as a morally grey/anti-villain who just wants to beat Aerrow.
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Cyclonis
One of the popular characters that I like for the same reasons as well: good design, interesting personality, and story potential. She’s also intriguing as you’re trying to find a balance between “She’s a villain and needs to be stop” or “She needs a blacket and cocoa”. If the show had been more developed and gave more thought to the world-building, I think it could have shown more of her character, especially on how she was thinking she was reclaiming a false legacy.
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Scabulous
Not gonna lie, I am a sucker for sky pirates. So seeing Scabulous and the Murk Raiders was a definite highlight for me. I’ve always imagined them to be like zombies or mutants. I wished they had more appearances than they did. They are certainly fun to watch.
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Aerrow
Aerrow’s the typical teen hero, but I can I like him. He has the vibe down and dual-wielding is awesome. If there’s one complaint about him, I wish he was shown more fallible. He could do well with learning lessons like, “Not everyone on your side is going to hold the same standards as you do” or “Those who could be considered good aren’t really.” *Has long list of examples*
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Suzi Lu
I like this pupper. She’s a good Canadian pupper.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months ago
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {3}
Summary: Charles is beginning to see the cracks in your facade and it only leads to more questions than answers in his quest to get to know you. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents, flashback to Jules WC: 2.1k
One || Two || Three || Four
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Ten Years Ago The nurses greeted you by name as you walked into the ICU ward with a book in your hands and your school backpack slung over one shoulder. For the last six months you had visited your friend twice a week and learned the names of all the staff while you sat at his side. 
“I have the new, unreleased, Jack Reacher,” you said as you took your seat between the bed and the window. The only other sounds in the room were the quiet whoosh of the ventilator and the rhythmic beat of the heart monitor. “Father knows the Editor at Bantam Press.”
You dumped your bag on the floor and opened the novel. The action thriller wasn’t something you would choose yourself but Jules had liked the series so you read it aloud. The neurologists seemed to think it could help him and the psychiatrists seemed to think it could help you.
“Moving a guy as big as Keever wasn’t easy,” you began the story. Time slipped away as you turned each page and you were so engrossed in the words that you didn’t notice your phone vibrating in your bag. You were late to your piano lesson, but more importantly someone else was arriving for his weekly visit.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles snapped as he breezed into the room and crossed his arms. 
“Same as you, visiting,” you murmured as you packed your bag up, leaving the novel on the table that had a vase of fresh flowers. You touched Jules’ hand with a silent farewell and kept your eyes low as you made your escape. 
You were almost to the door when an arm blocked your way. “Don’t come back again,” Charles growled. 
Your fists clenched at your sides as you dared to lift your head and meet his glare. “He is my friend too.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re just a stupid little girl. He avoids you because he finds you annoying.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I know he wouldn’t want you here.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded because he was probably right. That was the last time you visited Jules, and the first time you truly hated Charles. 
“That was harsh,” Lorenzo stated as you passed by on your way out of the room. 
Charles waited for the door to close before he asked his eldest brother, “Were they friends?”
Lorenzo chewed his lip and shrugged. “They weren’t friends,” he admitted and Charles turned his back with a scoff as he made his way to Jules, missing the quiet confession tacked on to the end, “They were closer than that.” 
You had been so furious when you left the hospital that you smashed your fist into a wall in the car park where your driver was waiting. 
“Phew, that’s quite the punch you pack, little lady,” a stranger had chuckled between the drags he took on his cigarette. “With a bit of training you could do some serious damage.”
You looked at the blood running over your knuckles but you were numb to the pain. “I like damage,” you commented quietly. “Do you know any trainers?”
Present Day Charles drove along the scenic coastal road towards Saint Tropez rather than the faster highways. He lowered the windows and donned a pair of sunglasses as the breeze whipped his dark hair back. Everything about his ostentatious image screamed old money until he smiled and it was too carefree. Old money didn’t show such emotion, your mother said it was uncouth to feel anything except superiority. Those weren’t her exact words but it was the gist of the conversation.
“You frown too much,” he commented as he handed you his phone. 
“I hardly have anything to smile about.”
“For starters, we escaped that - whatever that was, because it certainly wasn’t charitable. And now you are in control of the music. I think that is enough for a little smile.”
You tossed his phone back on his lap and turned your attention back to the waves breaking against the rocks. “I don’t listen to music.”
“Everyone listens to music.” 
He fiddled with the stereo and the slow melodic beginning to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filled the car. Each note sent echoes of pain shooting through your fingertips and you closed your hands as they began to shake. Your knuckles throbbed with the memory of sitting before your mother and reciting the classical greats you had been made to learn. You were constantly showcased to her friends, placed on a pedestal to flaunt skills that had no real purpose other than to illustrate the other families' mediocrities.
Until you made a mistake. 
You flinched as the allegretto movement began and your hands snapped close to your chest as you felt the piano lid come slamming down on them again. It was like falling in a dream and startling as you woke up. Charles was watching carefully as you found yourself back in the leather seat and not the velvet bench.
“Turn it off.”
He hit a button on his steering wheel and silence descended in the small space. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” 
Charles thankfully let it go and concentrated on driving to Monaco. You didn’t even bother to argue with him when he passed around the outskirts of Nice without stopping, you had found a small distraction by making shapes out of the clouds. It was only when he slowed to drive through the signature winding street that passed the casino that you looked down at your chiffon gown and frowned. “I am overdressed, even for this place.”
“You can wear something of mine.”
“No thanks,” you said, quickly shutting down the offer with a shake of your head. You grabbed your phone from your clutch and sent a quick message to Arthur. “I have some spare clothes at your brother’s place, we can just pick them up.”
Charles’ brow lifted. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to stay in this dress all afternoon?”
“No, why do you have clothes at Arthur’s?”
“For when I stay there, obviously. Do you think I stay in a hotel here?” You rolled your eyes. “No, wait, you probably thought ‘Daddy bought me a penthouse’.”
He had the good sense to look guilty but it also confirmed your suspicion. 
You knew the small city almost as well as Nice and found your bearings as he made his way to Arthur’s apartment complex. It wasn’t far from Charles’ but you had never been there, Arthur had just pointed it out on one of the many outings into the city. 
“You have a key too?” Charles asked as you unlocked Arthur’s door instead of knocking.
“You’re starting to sound a little jealous now.” The door swung open and Arthur waved as you shot past the sofa he was relaxing on and ducked into his bedroom to change into a pair of leggings and one of his old Prema shirts.
“Who’s jealous?” he asked as you flopped down beside him and used his thighs as a pillow. 
You draped a hand over your forehead and sighed dramatically. “Your brother is madly in love with me, but he can’t get over how close we are, Tur. There may be a duel at dawn, ready your pistols and kiss your mother in case it is the last time.”
“You really need a nap don’t you,” Arthur teased. His fingers carefully plucked the bobby pins from your hair and Charles watched on silently as the haunted look that had been in your eyes the entire ride faded away. “Dare I ask why you are here? You didn’t kidnap her did you?”
“I’d probably be floating facedown in the riviera if I tried that,” Charles replied with an indignant snort. “She voluntarily got into my car.”
“Ah, that’s progress, I suppose.”
“It was the lesser of two evils,” you corrected as you closed your eyes. The late night was beginning to catch up with you and a yawn cracked your jaw before a soft blanket fell over you. “Mm, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” 
Your brain hadn’t realised Arthur’s hands were still busy and the voice came from the blanket box where Charles had stood. Rather than question the goodwill, it was easier to pretend he hadn’t been nice because it was starting to really confuse you. 
“Did your genius brother tell you his plan?” you asked as you shifted around until you were comfy and looked up at your best friend. 
“He may have mentioned it on the drive home last night,” Arthur said. “Honestly, it was all he talked about.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.” Arthur turned his attention back to you. “Are you actually considering it?”
You barked a laugh that was a big enough ‘no’ but followed it up with, “Absolutely not. It wouldn’t even work anyway.”
“Why not?” Charles asked, taking a seat in the armchair opposite.
“No offence, but what do you bring to the table? Outside of F1 your name doesn’t mean anything.”
Growing up in Monaco where one in three people were millionaires, Charles wasn’t blind to reality, he knew first hand how elitist the ‘old money’ families were. “So why marry Jules?” 
You heard the pain that one question held and sighed as you sat up, woefully abandoning the idea of sleep. Charles didn’t like how the question made him sound petulant, or that he was somehow a better choice than Jules was - he didn’t think that at all, he just couldn’t understand why the plan wouldn’t work.
“It wasn’t about Jules. You forget that while he raced under the French flag the Bianchi’s came from Milan. The Italian market is one Father wants to break into.” You got up and went to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of Prosecco from the fridge. It was a little flat after being open a few days and you swirled the drink around, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. “Father’s five year plan was for Jules to win a championship with Ferrari, cementing the name back into Italian households, and then train his new son-in-law to join the family business.” 
The silence was heavy but Charles eventually recovered from staring out the window deep in thought. “Did Jules know this?”
“He knew enough.”
“What does that even mean?”
“He knew he was important enough to blackmail my father, kind of ballsy if you ask me, but it worked. Jules threatened to quit racing if he revoked the funding for your driving academy.” You drank down the Prosecco in a few unladylike gulps before refilling it as the bitterness in your belly grew. “Must have been nice to have someone fight all your battles.”
“I’m trying to help you now, but you’re being stubborn,” Charles said as he crossed the room and took the bottle away. “I don’t understand why.”
“You don’t understand? Maybe it’s because you treated me like shit for years and I can’t trust you.”
“I thought Jules didn’t like you, I figured it had to be for a good reason.”
“No, you figured you could judge me without even trying to get to know me. That’s pretty fucking shitty, but you know what? I’ve come to expect it from everyone. The only person that’s ever treated me like a fucking human being is sitting right there.”
Charles followed the angry point of your finger to his brother and sighed. “I can’t change the past, okay, but I am trying to make up for it now. Please, just let me help you, it’s the least I can do - for you and for Jules. It’s just a job.”
You crossed your arms and tipped your chin back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I would even protect you? I could let you get mobbed and point them in the right direction.”
Charles smiled and you realised you were no longer impervious to the fact he was quite handsome but it was his words that shocked you more. “Because I believe you’re better than that.”
“That might be your biggest mistake.”
Charles held his hand out. “We will have to test it and see. Deal?”
You looked at Arthur and so much hope filled his face it was impossible to stomach the idea of watching it fall away. So, you shook Charles’ hand and swore you heard Jules’ laugh in the seagulls' cries. Yeah, he would probably be laughing, he always laughed when you made a mistake. 
“There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn,” Jules would say.
You only wondered just how bad this latest lesson in the school of hard-knocks would be.
Part Four.
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ja3mln · 1 year ago
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part one & three
cw: popular guy!jm, jealous!jm, smut, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cum eating (f), dirty talk, slutshaming, a bit of fluff, jm is whipped for reader
words: 1.5k
a/n: wanted to write a second part since yall liked the first one! thinking abt writing a third one with fluff only but idk😖 enjoy!
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jaemin definitely has a crush on you. he doesn't know how it happens but one thing he knows, it's that it's driving him crazy. of course, he crushed on girls before but one of his hook ups? never. he couldn't help but start acting differently towards you once he realized that his feelings for you start growing. he would walk you home after classes when he have the occasion to (and will end up fucking you in your apartment), he would make sure to send you a text to ask you if you ate today because he knows that you sometimes skip meals to go to the library and study, he even starts sending you good morning texts and good night texts. for you, it was just him being friendly because after all, spending time with jaemin besides the sex was nice.
today jaemin was throwing a party and the first thing he did was invite you. he found himself excitedly looking for you in the crowded rooms but when he finally spotted you, he didn't except for you to be with a random guy, probably a date because of the way you were laughing and touching his arm. he tried so hard to fight the jealousy that was filling his body. it's not like you both are exclusive, or officially together. you were just fucking, having friendly dates from time to time, just what friends with benefits normally do. then why jaemin was feeling so angry seeing you with another guy? he literally have all the girls at his feet but he wanted you more than anything. the first thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to grab you and fuck you in front of this guy. show him that only his cock can make you feel good. he quickly told himself to get his shit together and just joined his group of friends. he couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he really tried but he couldn't even have a conversation because he was too distracted, just the thought of you having fun with another guy won't leave his mind. he just couldn't take it anymore. once you were finally alone, he didn't hesitate to approach you.
"oh, hey jaemin!", just seeing your soft smile made jaemin's heart skipped a beat. he was just so whipped for you. "who's that guy?", he says with a monotone voice because he didn't want to sound too harsh. "my date...?" you reply a bit surprised by his question and mostly the dark look in his eyes. he gets closer to you, and your back end up on the wall as you look up at him. "i don't like that.", jaemin says with an hesitant voice, like he's scared that you'll never want to see him ever again if he reacts that way. in fact, you like the fact that jaemin is jealous. it's not like you didn't develop a small crush for him, it was too hard not to when jaemin was this caring and funny (and also a really good fuck). "you do?", a smirk appears on your lips and jaemin try to not show how surprised and relieved he is. maybe it was the few drunks that you had that made you so confident. one of his hands slides behind your neck so he can get a closer look at your face. "you know that i'm the only one who can make you feel good." and that was true. you never had better than him but it was hard to admit it. jaemin doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you close so he can put his lips on yours.
that's how you both start making out in the corner of the crowded room. you totally forgot about your date, your attention was now completely on jaemin. his grip on your neck gets tighter and his body gets closer to you until you can feel his growing boner on your core. you could already feel yourself getting wet. "should we give him a show, sweetheart ? show him who you belong to.", your heart skips a beat because of how possessive jaemin was getting. he waits for your approval because, of course, he won't do anything you don't want to. you never really had public sex, in front of people even if you both like fucking in public places. as soon as you nod, his lips found yours to share a messy kiss, full of desire for each other. one of his hands starts caressing your tights, dangerously getting closer to your pussy. jaemin breaks the kiss to put his lips on your neck, sucking on it to leave marks while his hand starts ghosting your clit through your panties. "fuck, you're already so wet... you such a dirty slut. you love the attention don't you?", he whispers while looking at you deeply in the eyes and you suddenly feel shy, your cheeks heating up and not finding the words to answer. jaemin feels his heart soften for a moment, he just couldn't fight the way you make him feel. he chuckles slightly before pulling your panties to the side, his lips going back to your neck. you look around you for a second, seeing some of the people looking at you but when your eyes fall on your date who's watching you with a confuse look, you feel your cheeks getting warmer. he just went to grab a drink for you and now you're here, making out with another guy. it's not just a random guy it's jaemin but still, you feel a bit ashame and try to look at him with sorry eyes but when you feel jaemin's fingers slide in your pussy, your eyes shut down and your mouth open to let a soft moan, making jaemin smirk against your neck and his mouth travels your neck to go to your ear. "he's looking right? poor guy. you didn't even hesitate to offer your pussy to me, what a shame", he whispers and not only his words but also his hot breath against your skin makes your pussy throbs. his fingers starts moving in you and he grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to keep your head straight and your eyes open, "i want you to look at him while you desperately fuck yourself on my fingers like a bitch", and you just obey because it's jaemin (and because it kind of turns you on). you meet your date's eyes again, this time he has start a conversation with some random guys but his eyes were still on you and you find yourself getting wetter. jaemin's eyes were still on your face, he didn't want to miss any of your reactions. his moves were getting faster, following your hips. "just like that, baby", he says while the grip on your face gets tighter and he groans at how wet you are.
he loves the fact that people were watching (especially your date) and seeing how good he was making you feel. you feel your legs getting weaker and jaemin notices immediately how you're starting to shake. you try your best to keep your voice down, even if the music was loud enough to cover it. jaemin's fingers keeps fucking you as you start grabbing his arm so you don't fall. "gonna cum jaem...", your hips follows jaemin's hand and you look at him. you immediately see the tenderness in his look and you feel your heartbeats getting faster just by the way he's looking at you. jaemin didn't take off his eyes one second off your face, he just couldn't. you finally reach your orgasm, moaning his name and totally forgetting all the people around you. jaemin hold you so you don't fall because of the intense orgasm you're having. he takes off his fingers to bring it to his mouth, licking it without his eyes leaving yours. "i'm so glad to have this pussy just for me, you taste so fucking good", he smirks when he sees your cheeks heating up again and his lips finds yours for a sweet but intense kiss. you accidentally make an eye contact with your date (that you totally forgot) and straighten yourself immediately, pulling your dress down and giving jaemin a serious look. "fuck jaemin... that was so embarrassing! he's still looking at me...", you say, feeling way more ashame than you were when jaemin had his fingers in you. "he is? maybe i should fuck you in front of him so he will understand?", he playfully raises his eyebrows and you gently slap him on the arm, trying to hid your face in his neck. "shut up!", he can't even fight a smile, holding you closer. that's when he realized that it was too late. jaemin was falling for you.
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cloudrunnerscinnamon · 5 months ago
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An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)
The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...
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gif is not mine (found it on google)
"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"
„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 
Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 
It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 
„Oh, House and me?“
„(Y/N) and me?“ 
„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 
„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 
Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 
„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 
„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 
„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 
House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 
„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.
„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 
„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 
„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 
„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.
„(Y/N)?“  
Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 
„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 
„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.
Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 
„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 
„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 
„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 
„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 
„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 
Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 
„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 
Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.
The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 
„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 
„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 
„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 
„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 
„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 
"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.
„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 
„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.
„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.
„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 
„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 
The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 
„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.
„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 
„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 
„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 
„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.
„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 
„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 
„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 
„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  
„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.
„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 
„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 
Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 
But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 
„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.
„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.
„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.
„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 
„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.
„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 
„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.
„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.
„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“
Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.
„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.
„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 
„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 
„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 
„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.
„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.
„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.
„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 
„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 
„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 
You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 
„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.
„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“
You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 
After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 
„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.
 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?
„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 
„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 
„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 
„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 
After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.
„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.
„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  
„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 
„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 
„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.
„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.
„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.
„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 
„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.
„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.
„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 
„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 
„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.
„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 
„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.
„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 
„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.
„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.
„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.
„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 
„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 
„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“
You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 
„Okay, Greg.“ 
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icedbeverageenjoyer · 6 months ago
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🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺
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🖤📺Mr. Puzzles' Fluff Alphabet!! 📺🖤
Hey guys!!! The moment I saw snakes-writing-corner's fluff alphabet I couldn't focus on any of my other stuff until I've made one on my own! It's surprisingly easier than the oneshots I'm used to-- but on with the fluff!!!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He is incredibly affectionate and always wants to pamper you with kisses and compliments! Though he only shows it when the cameras stop rolling and he's sure you two are alone.
His love language is words of affirmation, since there is no better way to express his love than saying it directly! You would think he'd eventually run out of things to compliment, but his vocabulary is vast and colourful, making you blush every time. He is also multilingual, so sometimes he'll sweettalk you in a different language only to fluster you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?) 
Since you are his partner (and thus, his only friend), you're already his best friend! But if you weren't dating he'd probably be just as chaotic. He will call you in the middle of the night and ask you for input on his scripts, oftentimes his voice doesn't get picked up clearly and you just hear garbled static with the occasional manic laughter.
Sometimes he'll just skip the phone entirely, break into your house, and put on a movie so you two could watch. If the sound of a door being kicked to the ground or the smell of perfectly cooked popcorn doesn't wake you up, him manhandling you and throwing you at the couch (not on, at) is sure to do the trick!
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He is not used to people touching him or vice versa. The only times in the puzzlevision arc where he touched someone were when he was threatening Mario or fighting the crew, so he only makes physical contact when nessesary.
The closest thing to cuddling he would do is sit next to you and press his screen against your temple. It's not exactly a kiss, but more like him resting his head on you after a long day.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?) 
If you were to live in his studio together he would give you your own room and personalize it to your needs! He doesn't need to clean much since he almost never leaves his office unless it is to either pester the Smg4 crew or hang out with you.
If you two live at your place he'd be a little bit more organized and take on all the cooking. He has been the host for a few MasterChef-like shows, so he knows how to make a nice three course meal when you both eventually get tired of takeout. His specialty is breakfast, mainly pancakes, and he takes great pride in it!
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 
He would never allow himself to break up with you, and if you were to break up with him, he simply won't let you. Every time you'd try to explain that you're leaving him he'd either talk over you or just cover his antenna and pretend he's not listening, all the while still doing romantic gestures for you as if nothing happened. He is naturally stubborn and refuses to take any form of rejection.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) 
Almost immediately. He would throw a big, sappy wedding and show up in either the cleanest, most stylish sleek suit on the market or the biggest, most beautiful poofy dress ever made.
He'd record the whole thing in five different angles to get every detail on film, but he won't release it to the public. This special day will be for his eyes only.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Incredibly gentle! He doesn't touch you often, but when he does, his fingers are featherlight, and the cozy warmth of his old screen pressed against your face is always comforting.
He could get a little harsh sometimes and say things he really wasn't supposed to, but he always comes back and apologizes when things go too far.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)
He is not used to them at all. Usually if anyone else were to hug him he'd kick them off immediately, but he's more patient when it comes to you.
He feels safe enough around you to let you get closer, but he'll be frozen stiff the entire time, not entirely comfortable with the pressure on his skin just yet. Still, every time you back away he'd insist he doesn't mind, and he means it, he appreciates every form your love comes in. And if you're ever upset, he'll wrap his lanky arms around you and just keep them there until you're feeling better.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 
In the early stages of your relationship he wouldn't actually see you as a love interest, but pretend to be interested so you'll fall for him and be there in case you were ever useful.
Soon, however, he found himself actually catching feeling for you. And after some inner turmoil, he finally confesses for real! After that, he would say 'i love you' in almost every conversation. At first he copied what he saw on television, he'd recreate every dramatic gesture and cheezy date, but it would always leave him frustrated for whatever reason.
It wasn't until you pointed out that he was acting instead of actually having fun that he started to slip out of his show host persona. Now his use of 'I love you' is much more sparse, but every time he says it, you know he means it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) 
Extremely. He is agressively passive-aggressive and if he sees anyone even looking at you in a way he doesn't like he'd immediately be onto them. He'd start off polite at first, basically telling them 'get out or I will throw you out' without saying it, but if they still don't get the hint he will grab them by the scruff of the neck and drag them out.
He would come back to you with a muffin from the snack cart and lead you away to show you his progress on filming the upcoming movie. You're not listening though, neither are you eating, the faint smell of gunpowder coming off of him immediately stumping your appetite.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
His kisses are him pressing his screen against your face. He doesn't have lips, but his gentle electronic warmth is enough to linger on your skin. He loves kissing your face and hands, having them securely in his hold as he peppers you with kisses. He also likes it when you kiss back, especially around the wires on his wrists and neck, as it is one of the few places where he can still feel touch.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 
He's not really a kids guy. On one hand most of his shows are aimed towoards a younger audience, and he wants to introduce kiddos to the wonders of TV! On the other...he can't handle the loud crying and sticky fingers.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
At the morning you will wake up to the smell of freshly made breakfast before you feel him pulling the covers off of you and dragging you to the kitchen. He'd talk about his plans for the day while you're still waking up and grazing on your toast. 
He would then head to the studio, but not before kissing you and saying goodbye like a working husband going out for a long day at the office.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) 
Due to his upgrades and mostly electronic nature he doesn't need to sleep. Usually when you go to bed he stays up in his office, pouring his heart out on a script he'd likely end up tossing. Sometimes when he's lonely he'd quietly sneak in your room and lay down next to you, his screen facing you on a blank, staticy channel.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 
He doesn't mind sharing his 'tragic backstory' with others, seeing it as just another selling point of his persona, but you seem to be the only one to take it seriously. The irreversible effects of long-term isolation had warped him into a charecature of what he loved most.
You try to make him see just how horrible his situation is so he can start to heal and develop a real personality, but it seams near impossible to get through to him. You can't fix something that dead and gone.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 
Patience is not a virtue Puzzles acknowledges. The second something goes off scrip he will freak out and immediately focus all of his resources on fixing it. He craves control and if something doesn't go his way he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. When he is sulking in his office even the smallest little thing can set him off. 
Luckily, he seemed to have mellowed out after his defeat. When he gets worked up, instead of exploding and taking it out on the closest thing to him (he still misses his favorite remote), he simply let's out a long, tired sigh and goes back to work. Progress, you'd like to believe!
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 
He has a very advanced database that he's already explained to you in detail, but you still can't grasp how it works exactly. What you could somehow get was that ever since his face surgeryupgrade, he has been able to record and play back everything he's seen in vivid detail.
He has special folders of where he stores information and one of them is entirely dedicated to you. Every single interaction or passing glimpse is recorded, and sometimes when you're away for a while he likes to play them back and just listen to you talk.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 
Probably when he realized you were more important to him than everyone else. It was before you guys started dating. He was in the office repairing his hand after a loose prop fell on him, but he couldn't lock the mechanism in place with just one arm.
It wasn't until you walked in and offered to help that he finally let you touch him, albeit only his non-feeling, motionless palm. When he was done he muttered a quiet 'thanks' and began readjusting the fiberglass plates.<
"No problem, that's what friends are for, after all."
That was when it really sunk in. You guys really were acting just like friends. And it wasn't a staged act or anything, it was all just natural interactions. He had to rationalize it in his brain for quite a bit after that. Were you really friends, or was that just a passing remark? No, you actually meant it. Would he consider you for a friend to begin with...yes.
And so it was official. The day he gained his first friend.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?) 
He has never felt the need to hire bodyguards, since his pointer finger alone is considered a highly lethal weapon, not only that, but he has complete control over the studio. So if anyone ever tried to break in, he'll just snap his fingers and have a heavy piano prop crush them.
That being said, he is your personal guard dog and will absolutely snap someone out of existence if he feels you are being threatened. 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 
Puzzles is a tryhard in every way the word could be interpreted. When he figured out there's more to a relationship than surface level romantic cliches, he began to put more thought into what he gifts or what dates he takes you on, wanting them to be just perfect for you! 
Just like the shows he directs, most of them are hit or miss, but he puts his soul into every single thing he does for you, and you'll always treasure that!
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
His smoking and temper. He's a chain smoker, having one every odd day on good weeks, and blowing through a pack on particularly rough ones. 
For his temper, he usually has a specific set of rules before blowing up. First - try nicely. If that doesn't work, try again, but a bit more sternly. If that doesn't work, try again, but this time make it a clear, threatening warning. And if that doesn't work either, just brainwash them into complying.
You have gone through most of those stages at least a few times, but not the last one. At least, not that you remember. Maybe he figured taking control wasn't worth the trouble, or he was so frustrated that he didn't want to deal with you anymore, but you did notice his patience has been improving, especially when it came to you. Maybe all those therapy sessions you dragged him kicking and screaming to were working!
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Looking as nice as possible is a must, especially if it is to impress you! He obsessively fixes his puffy arm sleeves to fold just right, and if there's something wrong with his current outfit like a stain he hasn't noticed or a crease that won't go away he will just replace the entire outfit with a new, completely identical one. </p>
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Yes. No matter at what stage of the healing journey he's in, you will always be a big part of his world. If you go, he loses his partner, his best friend, his co-director, and everyone he's ever loved. He'd be left alone, as he always was, with his TV. . .And for the first time in forever, he'd grow to hate it.
X = Xtra (Random HC) 
While it was his lifelong dream to work in the creative field of television, Mr. Puzzles is not a creative person. He's more of a businessman than a director, creating several successful tech companies for the sole purpose of funding the studio, despite the low ratings. 
Low ratings which are caused by his complete inability to be original, pulling plot points from other established classics and writing them in with his own, stiff, awkward style of storytelling.
He speaks every language ever shown on TV, is fully able to perform invasive surgery without any risks, knows the copyright laws so well, he might as well be a lawyer, had a hand in engineering and programing his body, and has definitely done some less than legal things to get where he is today in the industry. And yet the thing that stumps him is actually being creative.
Y = You (How would they talk about you?)
Your relationship with him is one of the very few things he wishes to keep in his 'private life', so he doesn't talk about you often, mostly just quickly mentioning you when he explains his absence. "Ah, so sorry for depriving you all of my presence, my lovely partner wanted to watch 'Food fight' for the first time and I simply HAD to intervene!"
". . .who invited y-"
"ANYWAYS back to the show!-"
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) 
He has a powered down mode when he recharges. Before going in that mode he'll go to your room and lay down army style on your bed, but by the time you come home you'll see him  sprawled out on your bed, one foot on the pillow, the other dangling from the edge, with his screen displaying the puzzlevision logo bouncing off the four walls of his monitor.
Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!!! 💕💗💞
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holllandtrash · 1 year ago
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gone | daniel ricciardo
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)
I just know You're not gone You can't be gone
The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.
word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff
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“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team. 
So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone. 
And you both knew the answer to that one. 
That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference. 
“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”
“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”
The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media. 
When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.
“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”
He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”
Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.
Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.
He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time. 
Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well. 
You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago. 
“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.
The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.
Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”
You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”
You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.
“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”
You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”
You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.
“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”
“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.
“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.
“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction. 
For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.
But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.
You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you. 
“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”
“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.
But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you. 
It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.
You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.
Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.
Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at. 
You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.
“And Y/N, onto you-”
You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.
“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”
You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”
Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”
You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.
But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.
“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.
Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”
You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.
But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”
Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”
You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up. 
You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room. 
Unfortunately, so did Daniel.
He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”
Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”
Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”
You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”
It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.
The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.
What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap. 
But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage. 
“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”
Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2. 
You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.
Serves him right, you thought. 
God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind. 
Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.
Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.
“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening. 
Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him. 
“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him. 
“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time. 
“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”
“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”
“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”
You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it. 
Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart. 
“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”
You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.
Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.
The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.
Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1. 
Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.
Of course he didn’t, though. 
Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud. 
That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.
You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.
But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri. 
You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades. 
When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season. 
Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel. 
Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.
It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done. 
Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel. 
You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were. 
Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case. 
And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do. 
You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.
The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.
You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire. 
You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you. 
Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him. 
But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.
“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset. 
“Plan F.”
Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.
“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.
“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”
From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position. 
Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight. 
Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind. 
You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come. 
You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust. 
You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors. 
He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.
Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.
Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.
You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme. 
You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.
The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.
There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.
It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications. 
You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.
It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.
Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.
The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.
But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours. 
This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.
Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?
Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 
The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to. 
You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you. 
That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.
Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt. 
You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with. 
“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.
“I need to,” you answered. 
“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service. 
It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.
Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you. 
The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol. 
He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.
Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver. 
You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.
“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners. 
“Get what?”
You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved. 
Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.
“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought. 
When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.
“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”
You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete. 
You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel. 
Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.
It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.
When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.
But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it. 
You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.
Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap. 
Why did he follow you?
This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver. 
The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was. 
You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.
But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case. 
You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.
Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything. 
“Checo’s gone after this year.”
You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”
“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”
You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024. 
But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened. 
And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?
You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”
“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”
The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face. 
But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue. 
“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out. 
The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together. 
Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.
You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?
“You’re not mad?” He asked.
The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.
“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible. 
“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid. 
“Enraged,” you said.
“Enraged,” he repeated.
“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you. 
You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.
You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around. 
“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”
“I want to talk.”
“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”
There it was.
“I knew you were mad.”
“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”
You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.
“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage. 
“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.
“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”
You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.
But he didn’t go anywhere. 
And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.
“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.
“No, but I loved you.” 
You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.
“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”
All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”
“We could have had both.”
Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1. 
Clearly not.
“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you. 
Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.
“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.
It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.
He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.
And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior. 
The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024. 
The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.
And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.
His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.
No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium. 
You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.
People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.
You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.
Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence. 
This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.
But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.
You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.
You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.
How could the world move on if you hadn’t?
Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.
You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.
He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.
You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.
Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night. 
At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone. 
Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back. 
You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.
There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore. 
You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.
“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”
You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.
“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”
Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”
You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”
Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you. 
Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove. 
That was a move you had to live with. 
“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this. 
“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”
We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.
Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall. 
“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded. 
You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.
“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”
You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.
You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore. 
And you couldn’t hold onto it either.
As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.
You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.
You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.
Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.
Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship. 
But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.
You had to look away.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him. 
Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
You were supposed to be in love. 
And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan. 
But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.
You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.
__________________
is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?
taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora
for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions
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shall-we-die · 1 year ago
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{Mornings}
How are mornings spent with them?
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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Bungo Stray Dogs}࿐
↬[Warnings]•⊰ {None}࿐
☰[Main list]•⊰ ─────┈┈{0004}┈─╮
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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐
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↬|Atsushi|
• Oh he's so dramatic... (Even though he hugs you all night and rubs his head against you, or he might purrs like a big cat.)
• Because of the rules of the orphanage, he has a habit of waking up early in the morning, but the first thing he does when he sees you next to him is to blush and cover his mouth with his hands so that you don't hear him gasp.
• Then he puts his hand on his heart, because he feels that it beats very strongly and you might wake up from its sound!
• He stays in the same position for a long time and cannot even move.
• After he calms down, he finally finds the courage to sit up.
• He's still staring at you though, hoping you don't wake up.
• After shyly walking away from you, he quietly goes to the bathroom and then waters his favorite flowers.
• He tries to prepare breakfast and waits for a while for you to wake up and eat together.
• If you're still asleep, he'll probably have a hard time letting himself get close to you again.
• Then he tries to call you very shyly.
• He whispers your name very softly and after a while he touches your cheek with his finger.
• He greets you softly after you wake up.
• Of course, after you kiss his cheek, and say good morning to him, his heart starts beating fast again...
• One of his favorite things to do in the morning is to talk to you.
• He likes to ask you about what you dreamed and tell you that he slept very well because you were with him.
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↬|Akutagawa|
• Most likely, he only slept for a few hours last night and had constant nightmares.
• He's also an early riser... 'cause he can't sleep anyway...
• He barely opens his eyes, even though he still can't see clearly or think straight, sure enough the first thing he does is put his finger under your nose to make sure you're breathing.
• After his anxiety subsides, he takes a deep breath and tries to blink to see more clearly.
• He also covers his mouth with his hand to control his coughing and not wake you up suddenly.
• He may stare at the ceiling for a long time. After that, he looks at you.
• He doesn't want you to be bothered by his cold hands, so he just caresses your face very gently with his finger. He gently brushes your hair away from your face.
• He doesn't like much physical contact, so the fact that he's lying next to you on a same bed is a huge achievement for you to show off and be proud of...
• In the past, he would just lie in bed and wait for the sun to fully rise and the alarm clock to ring, so that he could wake up and go about his missions. But now... instead of just staring at the ceiling or reluctantly eating, he can look at you.
• Of course, before the alarm clock rings, he gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen to prepare your favorite tea or coffee. That's why you never see his sleeping face.
• Like I said, he doesn't like much physical contact, but if you hug him from behind and kiss his cheek and say good morning, he'll appreciate it.
• However, he complains to you and asks you to wash your hands and face and brush your teeth as soon as possible.
• Is your hair long? So combing and styling your hair is his new responsibility. He might be a little harsh, but boys who have younger sisters definitely know how to braid hair. so... just trust him and be patient and don't scream... please.
• He might also nag about how much shedding your long hair is. Of course, he won't be upset at all if he notices a strand of your hair on his coat during a dangerous mission, for sure he won't even remove it from his coat.
• Well, living with the hound of mafia is a bit tough, you can't expect him to take you to work or school/university.
• Sometimes you have to live without him for a week, and sometimes he has to leave the house very early in the morning before you wake up.
• Most of the time, though, you leave the house early, while he nags behind you and insists that you to be careful, don't forget anything, and be sure to call him after you reach your destination.
• and Weekends? Well, Rashomon throws you out of bed by pulling the blanket, then the hard day of cleaning begins, which begins with a double bath...
• (You're not supposed to do anything but wash yourself in the bathroom, yeah... In fact, you are there by his side so that his thoughts are at ease when he closes his eyes and washes his hair.)
• Then you can decide what movie to watch, or invite Gin to go to the amusement park together.
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↬|Dazai|
• There are several different ways for starting your morning with Dazai.
• One way is when he's mumbling and flirting with you in his sleep. He hugs you tightly and doesn't let you get out of bed.
• In the end, it makes you arrive late to work for the thousandth time in a week.
• The second way is that he wakes up earlier than you because of a nightmare, although he tries not to wake you up at all.
• He stares at you and strokes your hair.
• Of course, after making sure you've rested enough, he'll start teasing you.
• He tickles you and asks you to wake up because he is 'hungry' and wants you to make him breakfast.
• Finally, you have to throw the pillow in his face to shut him up.
• And the third way is that you wake up with his screams, you run around the house sleepily to find the source of the screams and finally...
• You find him getting himself into trouble again with a failed suicide attempt.
• Anyway, you wake up and have a long and busy day ahead of you.
• First you have to make breakfast for him so that he stops talking continuously.
• He may act like a child, but he really loves watching you. While you are wearing his shirt without pants and with a messy hair, you prepare breakfast for him.
• He likes to hug you from behind and rest his chin on your head.
• After breakfast, he will most likely asks to have a romantic double suicide with you, but when you reject him, he will lie back on the bed with a sad face and wait for you to take a shower...
• And most likely he will fall asleep again and you will have to try for a long time to wake him up.
• In any case, you will be late for work and hearing Kunikida's reminders will become a routine for you.
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↬|Chuuya|
• One of the usual routines is that he's been drunk all night and now in the morning he won't even wake up to the ear-splitting sound of the alarm, so you wake up the sleeping beauty with a kiss.
• What an honor you have received, he's drowned in his dreams and you can do whatever you like to him.
• However, when you're busy watching his face, he suddenly hugs you and you roll on the bed.
• And a long time for your cuddling-routine in the morning, enjoying each other's warmth and company for awhile before you jump into the day.
• after your cuddle time, you'll get out of bed for a shower and he would stay there...in bed...thinking about you untilI he falls back a sleep. When you come back, he's still laying in bed, so you jump on top of him to wake him up again...
• After you cuddle and kiss each other passionately (again), you talk a bit, have deep conversation about each other's days and what are the plan for today.
• To be honest, it's the greatest gift in the world for him. Having you by his side... Like you're the one and only person in this word he can trust with his heart, you make everything feel right for him.
• Let this wonderful man cook for you. Maybe at this moment, the eggs in the frying pan and Chuuya, who is standing shirtless and wearing an apron in front of the stove, are competing to be the hottest meal in the kitchen. (He's surely the winner)
• This man was born to be a great husband. I mean... a great husband will hug you and carry you to your desired destination as he walks through the roofs of buildings... right?
• Of course, you're not always the first to wake up. Sometimes he can also be an early riser.
• However, he can't be as romantic as usual.
• This time you'll see a little boy who plays with your hair, tickles you and repeatedly makes you sneeze by waving his hair in front of your nose. You may even feel a fly on your face in a dream and slap yourself.
• I must add that he is filming you with his camera. And those films are never going to be deleted.
• Sometimes when he goes on a mission and can't be with you at night, you should expect to find yourself overwhelmed by your favorite bouquets in the morning.
• While he's standing in front of your bed and looking at you with a big grin. (You miss me, don't you?)... you can read that in his eyes.
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↬|Tetchou|
• He's the type who wakes up early in the morning and wakes you up by force. I must say that if you're a sleep-lover (like me), waking up next to him will be the worst part of your life together.
• Although it's not like he treats you strictly, you are his lover, not a soldier...
• So he just grabs your shoulder and leads you to the bathroom. Without saying anything, he combs your hair and splashes cold water on your face.
• If you still resist waking up, he doesn't say anything, while your eyes are closed and you barely stand on your feet, he holds your chin with one hand and brushes your teeth with the other...
• I must say, this will be your daily routine! You can't escape this!... sorry
• Then you have to look at the strange foods he eats for breakfast.
• And you even go for a daily walk together, and if he feels that you are not physically active enough, you should also attend his *special* classes.
• Don't worry, he's trying to be nice to you.
• It's not that he wants to hurt you, he just wants you to be at your best.
• Surely he enjoys seeing you every moment, even though he doesn't talk much.
• He loves your sleepy face while you wait for him to brush your teeth. And even when you try to do difficult sport movements.
• But some days... for example, weekends... he also likes to stay in bed more. He will be surprised by this new habit... Anyway, it's not like you only have to be an influential person, he will also make changes in his life because of you...
• He is always the first one to wake up, and hugs you tightly. One of his favorite things is to hug you from behind and kiss the back of your neck while brushing your hair away.
• Another routine of yours is to spend several hours doing his hair. Surely this is his favorite time. When you put your hand in his hair...
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↬|Jouno|
• Well, he probably spent the whole night listening to your breathing and heartbeat. And he wakes up at 4 in the morning and starts his training.
• Unlike Tetchou, he doesn't want to wake you up (by force) at all.
• Instead, he does his own things... He will to take a shower and prepare breakfast by making the least noise.
• He'll wait for you to wake up, but don't think you're allowed to sleep until the noon...
• He may not talk to you much about the details of his work, but in general he likes to spend his morning talking with you.
• As you rub your sleepy eyes and sit behind the breakfast table, nagging about having to go to a class you don't like today; He just slowly pours you tea and shakes his head.
• Then he sits behind the table and asks you to read the newspaper for him, or turn on the TV and listen to the latest news.
• Usually the mornings are very calm with him, because he's not a noisy person and he doesn't like to spend his morning listening to a lot of noises.
• (He listens enough at night to all kinds of sounds you make.)
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↬|Fyodor|
• God never sleeps.
• So sorry for you, it's impossible to see his sleeping face.
• However, the main reason for all his strange behavior is because he doesn't care much about his health.
• You sleep in bed alone and wake up alone most of the time.
• You have to work on his habits for some time to improve them.
• For example, force him to eat or sleep on time and rest.
• After a while, he will slowly crawl into bed next to you in the middle of the night and in the morning you will find him next to you.
• He has a cold body, so in the morning when he hugs you, you wake up because of the cold.
• And of course he is awake and staring directly into your eyes.
• It's not that he's cold and serious all the time, he's definitely trying to be a little nicer to you. So you can expect a kind kiss on your forehead.
• He'll hug you tightly and not want to get out of bed. He likes the warmth of your body.
• He certainly can't eat a lot of food, so the best thing is to prepare this simple breakfast for him with a glass of hot coffee and some cookies and enjoy it together.
• I also don't think he enjoys morning baths. His body is still cold and tired and he doesn't want to take off his clothes.
• Maybe he will even ask you to forget about your work and sit on his lap and hug him for a long time.
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↬|Nikolai|
• I really can't imagine him lying on the bed let alone sleeping...
• Anyway, he is one of the characters that you are never going to see his face in sleep.
• He likes watching the sunrise. And you know what he likes more than that? staring at your face...
• One of his daily goals is to be the first thing you see when you wake up.
• He looks at you with a very, very big smile and prepares to say good morning to you and tell you how beautiful you are even with that messy hair.
• He likes a lot of physical contact, so you have to force him out of the bathroom to get some privacy.
• Breakfast?... Well, one thought I don't like is that he finds something to eat from his coat.
• So if you don't like this idea either, you have to start cooking something for yourself.
• I feel like if he goes to the kitchen, you will go to the hospital.
• I'm not sure, but I feel like he hasn't brush his hair in a long time, so combing his hair is a good idea. He may try to change the subject at first, but you can easily satisfy him to sit and let you brush his hair.
• Once he feels your fingers in his hair, you become his personal hairdresser and you have to comb and braid his hair every morning.
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↬|Sigma|
• He usually likes to be the small spoon. While he rubs his head on your neck and chest and expects you to caress his head.
• Surely, when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is his smile, even if he is sleepy, he has a smile on his face.
• He's very fond of physical contact and unlike our shy tiger boy, he's an honest cat who's very serious about what he wants from you.
• For example, he wants you to hug him tighter and kiss his face or stay longer in bed together.
• You eventually have to get out of bed though, because he shouldn't be late running his beloved casino. So while you tidy up and brush your teeth, he tries to prepare a breakfast.
• Maybe he didn't care about his own food before, but now he has to worry about meals because of you.
• While eating breakfast, he explains the list of things that you have to do and asks you for your opinion about the things that he likes to do.
• He will certainly spend some of his time to choosing your clothes; This is one of his favorite things to do for you.
• And until you go about your business, he keeps coming towards you and asking you to kiss him.
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moon-buggg · 28 days ago
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Has Y/N ever gotten genuinely upset/frustrated/angry at HH!Sun and/or Moon?
In general? Yeah of course, the boys are a bit of an acquired taste at the best of times and they both show affection in... strange ways. It takes some getting used to, and even then conflict is inevitable in any relationship. Sometimes you just aren't in the mood to get jumpscared and they aren't... always the best on picking up on that, for example. As for something more specific....
"Again again, we neeed to do it again!"
"Sun," you struggle to form the words, "we've been at this for ages. Can't we take a break?" You don't bother trying to tell him that you don't need to run through the script again, that you could recite it backwards at this point- that's a loosing battle.
The boss had issued a new routine- a seasonal script to really celebrate Halloween had been his sell- and the two of you had been practising for so long your throat is on fire. You're exhausted. You really don't have another 'from the top!' in you.
"No no no!! It's not good enough!" he shouts, spindly hands grasping at his rays. At first it was hard not to flinch away from his exaggerated movements, but you're more than used to them by now. You know your Sun, and he's always so, so careful with you.
Today, however, it seems his perfectionism has gotten the better of him.
"Sun," you say, more harshly than you maybe meant, "I'm not a robot, I need a break."
"NOO!!" his sudden shout makes you jump. "We can't stop! It's not perfect! We can't stop until it's perfect! If we do something- something-" Sun is all jittering movement, harsh and frantic. It's hard to be too sympathetic. 
"What! What will happen?" You're tired. You're thirsty. You are not in the fucking mood. It's uncharitable, you know that, and you'll probably feel awful about it but you still shout at him.
He stills at your outburst. "...I can't tell you."
You sigh, and slowly raise your hands to your head. "Of course not."
Sun... stops... for a minute. The silence would be suspicious if you couldn't hear him shifting his weight from foot to foot. You don't look up at him, letting the silence hang heavy between the two you. You don't lower your hands when you finally go to speak.
"Sun. I'm not going to improve like this," you're careful with your words, keeping your tone nice and even. You can't stop some of your exhaustion from bleeding in. "If you want me to do better I gotta take a break." You know he's precious about his scenes, you want everything to go smoothly too, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. You pull your face out of your hands and Sun seems to stop and actually, finally, really look at you.
It's always a little hard to tell what they're thinking, but now, staring at Sun's blank, frozen smile, you truly have no clue. He's gone stock still, and looks bizarre without the movement. Utterly devoid of any of his usual tells.
It... doesn't make you feel great.
"It's not about you," he says, almost whispers- quietly. A hurried sound not explicitly meant for you to hear. It's baffling enough for the burning annoyance to simmer down. But not disappear.
"What? Is it about you then?" his silence is answer enough. "You're not gonna forget your lines, Sun." He can't, not with the script directly uploaded into that big head of his. Maybe, in the future, you would chalk your confusion up to exhaustion, but you honestly have no idea what he's talking about.
Sun doesn't answer, but finally moves. Giant metal arms wrap around his torso. He makes a frustrated groan. He doesn't tell you what he's really worried about. Doesn't tell you about the slowly accumulating small glitches, or how he's worried one might happen with his hands around you. "Your shifted ended 7 minutes ago," he does say, eventually. Choosing this moment to disappear off set and notifying Moon not to try and goad you into staying. He does not respond to the questioning message Moon sends back.
All while leaving you to find your own way out, utterly confused and mad and worried.
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caeunot · 10 months ago
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hii first of all i love your writing and im so glad i came across your fics 🖤 i was wondering if you could maybe write a johnnie x fem reader, enemies to lovers fic? or something along the lines of johnnie and fem reader always bullying each other a bit only to realise they've been crushing on each other the whole time?
johnnie guilbert x reader
enemies to lovers 18+
➷ you hated his guts, everything about him irritated you and made your skin crawl. you are friends with jake and you absolutely love him to bits so you spending time with him normally equals to you having to be around johnnie. these feelings aren't without reason though, your not the type of girl to hate on others very easily.
it happened a few years back, when your own youtube career recently jumpstarted and you started spending time with other similar youtubers near you. this is how you originally met johnnie, even before jake. you were first invited to a party hosted by some popular la youtuber at the time and you obviously took the invite since you knew this would not only help you make more friends in the industry but to also promote yourself!
you were greeting everyone and taking many pictures as the night went on, fully using this opportunity to the best of your ability. as it hit 12 you decided to look around and scope out the last person you want to introduce yourself to before you head home. you saw a short-ish guy with deep red emo hair swooped to the side with harsh makeup around his eyes and you were immediately intriged. you preferred a more grunge look yourself so seeing someone with such familiar fashion made you feel at ease.
"hey im y/n!" you say, introducing yourself. "do I know you?" he says coldly as he turns to see who was speaking to him. "no but everyone will soon the way my channel is going" you say with some sass so you can counter his rudeness. "you have way too much confidence" he says with a smirk. "so I've been told".
"what's your name?" you ask, "my names johnnie, johnnie guilbert". "well nice to meet you johnnie" you say with a smile. "what do you do for a living? if I can ask", " I make youtube videos and I also make some music on the side!" he says. you two talk for a little longer before you check the time seeing its quite past what you had planned. "hey it was great meeting you! I don't want to stay too long so I think I should get going!"
as you say goodbye and walk away you feel him grab you by your wrist, you turn around. "wait don't go yet, your the most interesting person I've spoken to today and I don't want to go home just yet" you bite your lip, "fine, how about I just walk you to your car then". he rolls his eyes, "is that all? anyways I don't even have a car, I came with uber"
"wait why did you take an uber?", you say confused, "do I really have to say". "yes", " okay, I can't drive.. happy?" you scrunch up your face, you don't feel comfortable letting him go home with an uber this time of night. "I don't mind giving you a lift! then you can talk to me during the ride all you want"
you walked him to your car and he got in on the passenger seat, let me just say that convincing him to let you take him home was harder than you imagined, but you could see in his face he appreciated it.
"why are you doing this again?" he asks as you start driving. "because I'm a nice person and I don't trust ubers". he nods, "I like your piercings" he says, observing your face in the dim lighting. "thanks!" you say as you stick out your tongue, showing your snake eyes. "oh shit I've never seen that in person before, it looks great". you blush slightly, "it was pretty painful and it's hard to upkeep but I don't regret it at all".
he brushes his hands through his hair, probably anxious from the small talk. "this might sound weird but, do you have a girlfriend" you ask. "I don't, why?", "it's because I figured that if u did she would be the one driving u home from a party, so I was just curious". "haven't had one in years", he says leaning back. "really? your really hot so I'd imagine girls would be all over you".
he laughs, "maybe in the past but not anymore, my sense of fashion and my lack of confidence kinda makes getting a girlfriend hard" he says, opening up to you effortlessly. "I think emo guys are hot" you turn and look at him.
"what are you implying?" he says, giving a lewd grin. "that if I had the choice to either have sex with you or not have sex with you that I would". you notice him squirm slightly in his seat. "if you mean that, pull over" he says
you do as he says and you climb into the back seat. you crawl into his lap and find yourself grabbing and pulling on anything you can find as you feel his tounge slip deep into your mouth, tasting the alcohol he had ingested that night. you wish you could recall the rest but you were much drunker than you thought you were and ended up slightly blacking out.
the moral of the story is that you gave him your number, and he never came back after that. not a call, not even a single text. you never ever hooked up with guys, this was your first time. and you hate how knowing a guy for just one hour could make you feel such strong feelings towards him, for johnnies case those feelings were a mix of lust and disgust.
back to current times, you ended up meeting jake a year later and that's when you saw johnnie again for the first time since that night. but instead of apologizing or at least being honest he instead found himself ignoring you. this frustrated you the most, you despise a man who cannot own up to his actions, let alone not even acknowledging them. every time you found yourself around him you felt your blood boil and you just wanted to give him a peice of your mind, but you can't.
you can't since it's been 5 months since and neither of you have said anything at all, 5 months of pure pretend. jake noticed your dislike towards his roommate but he didn't want to get involved in any issues that didn't require him, which you appreciated greatly.
after a lot of convincing, jake did eventually get the both of you to film a video together with him. it was one of those food rating videos and the goal was to order one type of food for everyone, jake said that I will do the drinks, johnnie the main and jake the desert. you were dreading this.
and you have been dreading this day for the past month since jake started bringing it up. you couldn't even handle being in the same room as him for a few minutes let alone a whole video.
"let's plan what we will order now so that we don't have to think to hard tomorrow!' jake says as you sat down on the couch next to him and opposite from johnnie. "I already know what I'm making you guys eat", "let it be actual food and not just chicken nuggets please" jake says jokingly. "knowing johnnie he will probably poison mine" you say with a scoff. a few minutes later jake started getting a call from someone and had to leave, aka leaving you alone with johnnie.
"why would you say that?" johnnie said to you the moment jake left the room. "say what?", "say that I'd poison your food, it's rude". you laugh from the pure nerve this guy has. "don't fuck with me, don't act like your the victim here". "says the one starting unnecessary shit". " I'm not starting anything, you started and I'm just continuing". the tension in the room was cut as jake walks back in, "sorry guys that was my studio, anyways where were we!" he looks between the two of you and johnnie gets up and leaves, saying he's not feeling well.
that evening you sat down in the passengers seat of jakes car, you breathe in and out meditatively to calm your nerves. "okay everything is orderd we just gotta wait for the food!" jake says climbing into his seat of the car and started prepping for the recording. you fiddle with your rings and move around your hair for a solid 12 minutes before johnnie got in the car with the food in hand.
the video started off fine, you didn't laugh at his jokes and he didn't laugh at yours. you two didn't even make eye contact, that was untill it was jakes turn. "okay guys for johnnie I got him a really massive chocolate chip cookie because hes a basic bitch and I got y/n a gummy lunchable because she's never had one" you laugh since the idea for having gummy pizza seems so obscure. "jake that's so wrong you know I love lunchables". jake turns to you as if implying you should give him a piece.
"I rather not" you say softly, but not soft enough to where johnnie couldn't hear you, "it's literally just a lunchable what's your problem". " I never said I had a problem, it's not my fault you don't have manners and can't ask for something yourself". "I literally just said that I love lunchables, stop starting shit were recording".
jake turns around to face the both of you, "what the fuck guys, what's your problem", you look at johnnie, "ask him". " you guys are acting like fucking toddlers either tell me what happened or just sort your issues alone, like now" he says as he gets out of his car, "there's no point in keeping on filming so let's just go inside okay".
you go inside and sit down and you feel as if your in the third grade getting detention from your angry teacher Mr Webber. "so.. what happend, you two have been like this since the moment you met and I don't understand, y/n, johnnie,I love you both so much but I can't handle this bad energy", you stay quiet and so does johnnie. "okay if you guys are going to be like that I'm going to my room, just please sort something out because I promised our fans we were doing a collab". he says walking off into his room.
you bite the inside of your mouth and look around, not able to handle the awkward silence. "johnnie I just have to ask you one question, why?" he makes an upset face, "what do you mean 'why'", " you know what I mean" you say in almost a defeated tone. you stand up and walk towards where he is sitting, "I mean why didn't you text me back, why did you ghost me" he looks away. "don't be a coward please, im tired of our crap". upon hearing this he stands up.
"fine okay, I'm a fucking coward. I was too scared to message you back because I was drunk and you were drunk and I knew for a fact that nothing would happen between us because I mean look at you, your gorgeous and I know if we somehow started something in the future I would feel so guilty that we hooked up the night we met, I've only ever had sex with two people y/n!! that's you and my ex and I feel guilty for it every day because sleeping with random people is not me!!"
your feel as if your in shock, almost frozen in place. you brush your hand through your hair about to say something but nothing comes out. "I never met to hurt you at all I just, I'm stupid I'm fucking st-" you cut him off by putting your lips on his, he doesn't push you away and instead takes his arms and grabs onto you tight while pushing you against the nearest wall. "I sware I'm not usually like this" he says, breaking the kiss,"you just.. do something to me"
'fuck' you mutter as you grab onto his hair as the kiss becomes more and more passionate. he takes his hands off the wall and starts to remove your baby tee, exposing your lacy black bra. as he did this you hear something behind you and look to see jake, his mouth dropped right to the floor. johnnie immediately stood in front of you to cover your exposed skin and when he heard jake walk away he helped you put your shirt back on. "I'm so sorry" he says with the most guilty look on his face.
"shh don't be it's okay!" you say holding his face and giving him a soft kiss, "I definitely overreacted to everything because of how much I liked you, it hurt me so much that someone I felt so strongly about could shove me aside like you did". " I haven't gone a day without regretting what I did" he says. you felt so relieved that this issue between you two was finally sorted out.
"what now?" you ask, indentifying the elephant in the room. "its my turn to say sorry I shouldnt have kissed you like that it was impulsive and careless of me".
"y/n". " yes?", you ask completely confused. "I've never met someone I've wanted more then you in this moment, I want you and all of you" he says walking towards you and holding your waist, "let's not torture each other as we have, please" you smile "I'm all yours".
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moodymisty · 2 months ago
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I’m not exactly a writer by any means, and this isn’t a request, I just need someone to hear me out on this before I go insane. Space Marine 2 related but I don’t think it’s got spoilers, and I’ll keep it very vague. This idea has been rotting in my head for the entire time I’ve played the game and I feel like imma explode
Setting: Space Marine 2 timeline
Imagine you’re Titus’ personal serf, or at the very least you’re tasked with cleaning and caring for that sector of Astartes rooms (with other serfs of course - at first). Titus used to be a captain so I don’t think he’d be unaccustomed to it, but you happen to be one of the first people to show him genuine kindness, even if at first it’s a bit out of fear of him. I’ll be real tho he’s got this Aura™️ about him that makes me think once he’s interacted with you the first time, you realize he’s actually not an…overly-zealous Space Marine on the verge of throwing you out the door, or spewing insults your way on how your lack of efficiency offends him AND the Emperor.
You’re probably still prepping his room or doing final rounds, and he returns from the first mission and finds you there. After deeply apologizing for the lack of urgency on your tasks, deep bow and voice near shaking, he dismisses it with a wave and says none necessary, with no demeaning sneers or stabbing glares you’re used to receiving, no threats of reprimand or orders to leave his sight.
In a bit of a shock, you dare to glance up to him ever so slightly, to see who this surprisingly calm & somewhat tired-sounding Astartes is, and boom eye contact. You have a “oh no he’s HOT” moment, but also can’t help but notice how…tired his eyes look. Maybe tired isn’t the right word. But anyways you bow one more time and hurriedly make your way out to your other duties. You can’t help but think about him tho. Uh fast forward, you probably bump into him a couple more times, and each time a few more words are exchanged between you two. You obviously have no idea who he actually is - no idea what he’s been through or what he’s been accused of. He’s just a new marine on the ship you serve. But you can’t help but feel he’s got the weight of some great world on his shoulders. The look in his eyes. The tone at which he says some things. Guarded, almost. However, he doesn’t seem to be as on edge when speaking with you, or annoyed with the small talks. So, you feel encouraged to keep these talks happening.
In Titus’ view, you’re just a mere serf, and I think that gives him some reprieve — talking to someone who doesn’t know. No suspicion. No prying questions (or digging more). Just casual small exchanges between two humans, even if one is a genetically engineered demi-god. And it’s…nice. Like he breath a little, even just for a second, without worrying about what is stressing him out.
Eventually when he comes back from another mission, perhaps a more..taxing mission, you decide to have balls of adamantium and bring him some kind of drink that you and your fellow serfs enjoy now & then as a way to help ease themselves to sleep (I imagine it’s just some kind of hot tea…I love hot tea. In some Giant Astartes size cup). Obviously you KNOW Astartes don’t need this. They literally have to eat space mush bags of protein just to keep up with the demand of their bodies. (And I’m not 100% on the lore but I think they can still consume regular food??)
you just want to show a little bit of kindness to someone in what is a very, very harsh world, and Astartes are, beneath all that augmented muscle and training, humans. Titus seems more so than the others. He showed you that rare kindness from the first interaction. So, maybe you can return a little more kindness to him, since you doubt it’s hardly something he encounters anywhere else.
Anyway I’ll try to wrap up this idea oops I don’t mean to go on a tangent anyway this small gesture turns into you both becoming closer. There’s nights you just stay with him, no talking. You know it won’t help. And you know he can’t/wont say what this great burden on his shoulders is. You just want him to know you’re there for him. Maybe you stroke his hair gently to soothe him to his scheduled very small amount of rest. Maybe he does just want some casual company, someone whose conversations are as easy and light as breathing air. eventually becoming something he looks forward to when on missions, someone to think of when especially beaten down by enemies, his one place of solace he’s had in many. many. years. and yeah uh eventually yall smooch smooch and progresses to full on you gettin dicked down and now you’re both in this relationship you can’t put a label on exactly but you can’t imagine being with anyone but him and vice versa. I can imagine Titus also being a bit thrown off from these feelings (Astartes brainwashing crashed.exe), but he doesn’t…dislike it. And the further the relationship progresses the more he allows himself to feel them. Leading to the dicking down of a lifetime. They’re both letting themselves be a little selfish. Something/someone that’s theirs and theirs alone. Just this once.
or something like that. that’s just a bare bones outline and can be altered as anyone sees fit. but this is my little version.
sorry for the novel.
- 😈🐈‍⬛
God I would do fucking unspeakable things for Titus, let me clean his quarters all day, and then when he gets back I can spend time on my back worship the Emperor with him ❤️
I love the idea of Titus falling for someone that doesn’t know about his past or even better simply doesn’t care. He just wants to move on.
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loudclan-clangen · 9 months ago
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Hey there!
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Checking out Loudclan? That's great! Thanks so much!
Loudclan was originally planned to be drawn as I played the game like most other clangen blogs... Then I got frustrated about how slow it was moving and played ahead. Just a little bit, nothing to worry about, only about 1000 moons. So this blog should be running for A WHILE. I also take pretty big liberties with the designs and events. I think it's more interesting that way! Also it's been several real life months since I started playing and some things I just... forgot. Or lost. Either way, it's fun to stretch my creative skills.
As for the mechanics of the blog:
General Content Warnings Include:
Death, Animal Death, (Cat Death specifically), Death in Childbirth, Violence, Murder, Illness, Gore, Grooming, Abuse, Bad Parenting, Cheating, Affairs, Drama, Cursing, Language, Dirty Jokes, ECT. (if i missed something please let me know)
Start Here
Allegiances
Lore
Discord
RedBubble
Updates are not going to be on a consistent schedule... ever. I'm a college student. I just don't have the time or energy.
The style is going to vary wildly. It's been years since I've consistently drawn cats and I wasn't ever really happy with the way I did it back then anyway. Come along for the ride with me! I'm just as surprised by what my hands create as you guys!
Overview:
Loudclan is set in a fictional location that is based on South Central Alaska. A group of rogues fled up the mountains to get away from the deep snows of the valleys at the beginning of a particularly harsh winter. The clan follows three "Leaders" in the form of the Leader, the Lead Healer, and the Lead Mediator. These leaders will each pass their position on to their oldest heir, the closest related member of their direct family. Issues regarding what happens when two cats have similar claims have yet to be sorted out by the clan, and may never be fully decided... *insert mysterious foreshadowing sounds*
If you are interested in more of a deep dive into the lore check out this post: Lore, or anything tagged #loudclanlore .
Asks are welcome! I will do my best to answer them quickly and efficiently! I am happy to talk about characters, art, process, gameplay, pretty much anything. (I probably won't be showing sprites though, just because I've played ahead so far and a not insignificant amount of them are just... gone. Lost to the ether. Sacrificed so that my laptop could keep running the game.) All asks are tagged #loudclanasks .
Also fanart/writing/edits are more than welcome! You guys are so cool and talented and I am honored that you would want to make something based on my dumb little pixel cats. Referencing or imitating my style/designs/layout is absolutely allowed, just make sure to mention me so I don't miss them! All fan contributions are tagged #loudclanfan .
I will never complain about anyone "blowing up my notifications" or spam liking. I think it's so neat to see people go through the blog liking as they go. Don't worry about it. I enjoy seeing you enjoy my work!
A little bit about me, you can call me "D"! I use any pronouns, I'm pretty ambivalent about them but the majority of people use she/her for me and I'm fine with that. I'm 20, I live most of the time in Alaska and part time on a ranch in Texas and I'm working on my BA in Elementary Education. I started reading Warriors in 2nd Grade and stopped in 6th Grade but the brain worms never die. If you know me in real life no you don't: It took me all of high school to kill the furry allegations I'm not going through that again. Oh, and my main blog is @restinginpiecesofpizza but warning, there's spoilers for Owlstar's family tree for like 8 generations posted on there.
If you think Loudclan's cool and want to help me out consider checking out my RedBubble!
Anyway, thanks for checking out my blog! I hope you enjoy!
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chronicbeans · 2 years ago
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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 9)
Our sister is a bit of an upsetti spaghetti rn but she's trying her best.
TW: Mentions of Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Idol Worshipping, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery
🎥 You knock on Angela's door, calling out "Angela... Can I talk to you? If you are too upset right now, I understand... But I am very concerned about something Henry said to me earlier..." Through the door, you hear her shout "Fine! But if you have that creepy puppet with you, leave it outside my room! Its eyes seem to stare into my soul... I can't see how you can stand working with it."
🎥 You step inside, seeing the muted brown walls of her room. Paintings of forests and corner side diners fill the walls, all of which were made by her deceased husband. She hasn't really been able to let him go, which you understand. They were very close. You sit on her bed, next to her. She's curled herself up into a ball, almost like she is trying to protect herself from danger.
🎥"I'm guessing the diary contains a lot of stuff about... him, right? You never really get this upset unless it has to do with Henry's dad. Last time I saw you like this was when the frame to one of his paintings cracked from falling off the wall." You watch as she nods. She sniffles her nose, before looking at you "Yeah. The page it was opened to was... well, the day he died. It was about the accident. I don't know why Henry would want to read about that! I have been trying to hide the specific details from him. He knows his dad passed away, but not how. I wrote about how in that entry... I just feel like he shouldn't know that much until he is a little older and can understand it a bit more, you know?"
🎥 You nod, trying to stay as comforting as possible. You don't really know how to help people out in situations like these, but you try your best. Right now, though, there is a pressing matter at hand. So, you quietly say "I understand... I know now is probably not the best time, but I feel like I have to ask this. Did you tell Henry about my job? Possibly about the letters I have been getting? You know, the ones from..." You trail off as she slowly shakes her head. "No, I haven't. I gave up on telling him the truth about that stupid puppet show after you kept stopping me. The letters shouldn't even be mentioned to him, in my opinion. A little kid shouldn't be burdened with the knowledge that a family member is being harassed and stalked! Why do you ask? Did he say something about it?"
🎥 You nod, before explaining what he said to you about Wally. About how Wally, according to Henry, spoke to him about you being a puppeteer and said things similar to the letters you have been getting. You finish it off by saying "I know it might sound a bit crazy, but look... I'm desperate for answers here. What if it's the puppet that's after me? You didn't tell Henry about any of that and I certainly didn't. I don't know, I might just be going crazy..."
🎥 Angela holds her hand up to stop you. Once you are quiet, she takes a shakey breath, then says "I HATE puppets... If you are right, this is something right outta my worst nightmare. I'm just going to roll with what you said, though, because it does seem very shady." She then looks down at her lap, before continuing "I mean, I do feel like I was a little harsh on Henry. He has never done anything like going through my room or reading my diary, before. It just doesn't seem like him to do that sorta thing. I should go say sorry. I'll talk to you in a little bit."
🎥 With that, Angela stands and leaves the room. You decide to go, too, and check on Wally. However, when you check where you left him, you find that he isn't there. A chill rushes up your spine as you walk around the house, searching for him. Eventually, however, you hear a little yelping noise, before some thumping by the kitchen. It sounds a bit like something falling...
🎥 You rush over, seeing that the basement door by the backdoor of the house is wide open. In the darkness of the basement, you hear a little "scuttle, scuttle" noise against the concrete floor. You flick on the lights and, at the bottom of the stairs, you see Wally lying flat on his face.
🎥 You slowly step downstairs, keeping your eyes locked on the puppet, before you find yourself at the bottom of the stairs. Angela and Henry are both still upstairs. You can tell because Henry is very loud when he is upset, so you can hear him crying from all the way down in the basement. So, someone must've brought Wally here, or if he IS alive, he must've walked down here on his own... Or fell... He does look like he fell down the stairs. His legs are all twisted, along with his arms...
🎥 You grab him, a bit harsher than you did the last few times you have grabbed him. Then, you march upstairs and place him on the couch. Then, you wrap him up in a blanket, tightly, as you say "Now, I don't know what is going on here... But you keep moving. Maybe that will help..." Then, you tie a knot tightly in the blanket, intending for it to keep him still. You don't have high hopes that it will, but at least it is something.
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cinnam0roll143 · 7 months ago
Note
can you make a oneshot where eunhyuk has a crush on the reader but has no balls to tell them, until some guy shows up and he got jealous, so he ends up confessing his feelings 😭🙏���
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I’m back!!~ Finally! I’m so happy to start writing again and I hope you guys enjoy!! XOXO
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Unknown Feelings
Eunhyuk POV:
_______________________________________________________________
Dear insert reader ,
 This may be shocking news for you but, I like you, I like you so much it’s like my heart will explode when I don’t see you for a long time. The way your hair dances with the wind, Your laugh is my favorite sound, The way your eyes glimmer like the moon, The way your skin feels so soft and delicate
________________________________________________________________ 
I crumble the paper and throw it away in the trash can filled with many other failed attempts at writing a letter to reader, “Aish! I don’t know what to do anymore..” as I bang my fist on the table a picture of me and reader falls on my notebook I have been writing on. ”reader, why are you torturing me like this..” Next Day.. reader POV “reader, come on! We’re gonna be late!” Su-ae, my bestfriend shouts as I get ready, ”Hold on! I’m almost ready!” putting on my shoes and quickly styling my hair. ”I’m here! Let’s go!” I exclaim.
 As we arrive at school I see my friend Eunhyuk across from us, ”Enhyuk!” I shout and wave, receiving a wave ”What’s wrong with him?” Su-ae asks, ”What do you mean?”. ”He just suddenly started walking a bit faster..” Su-ae says suspiciously, ”It’s probably nothing, maybe he’s just running late.” I shrug.
In our classroom, I guess you could say it’s a bit noisy.. and messy. ”Hey! reader, I heard that a boy from another section likes you!” one of my classmates say, ”Stop saying such nonsense! I don’t even interact with any of the students!” I shout, ”Haha! Maybe, they’re admiring from afar” They continued teasing me about this guy, when I see Eunhyuk looking at me weirdly. ”Just stop it already! Do you want to die!? Don’t drag reader into your nonsense stuff!” Su-ae shouts. As Su-ae scolds the boys the bell finally rings. ”Finally! If we were stuck in that classroom for another minute I would’ve punched the boys right there!” I laugh, ”Don’t be too harsh to them Su-ae!” I continue laughing
Suddenly someone approaches us, ”Hey reader.. Can I talk to you?”, ”Hm? Who are you?” I ask. ”I’m insert name, a student from the classroom beside you.” ”Ahh, Okay..” I said as he led me to a nearby hallway. But, unbeknownst to them, another person was listening.
”So.. What do you want..?” I asked, ”Well uhm.. I just wanted to say that I like you a lot.” He says. ”Oh..” I said, shocked by the sudden confession. ”I’m sorry but I can’t reciprocate the feeling.. I don’t really know you that much and uhm.. I already like another person. Is it alright if we can still be friends?” ”Of course, that’s fine with me! I totally get it.” He reassured me. But.. Eunhyuk POV As I saw a random boy and reader go somewhere, I secretly followed them. I immediately hid behind a wall when I saw them stop and talk. ”So.. What do you want..?” reader asked, ”Well uhm.. I just wanted to say that I like you a lot.” He said. ”Oh..” was the last thing I heard reader said, when I immediately left and went back to our classroom.
While I was dozing off on my chair, I heard reader and su-ae talking. ”Did he actually confess to you? Straight up?”, ”Yeah.. But-” I stopped listening and put on my earphones while we waited for our teacher.
Should I confess?
You should! I know she likes you back
Stupid, Somebody already confessed to her, she probably likes somebody else.
You should’ve confessed earlier! If you weren’t such a shy boy, maybe you would’ve confessed first! ”Stop!” I woke up from my nap, realizing that it’s already 4:03, meaning it’s time to go home.. Confess…
Confess
Confess! I immediately grabbed my bag and started to look for.. Reader. ”reader!” I shouted,
Looks like there’s no backing out now.
reader POV “reader!” I heard someone shout my name while me and Su-ae were leaving school, ”Oh? Isn’t that Eunhyuk?” Su-ae checked behind us and turned to me, ”You should go talk to him, I’ll get going!” Su-ae suddenly exclaimed. ”O-okay?” I answered. ”Eunhyuk, is there something wrong?” I asked. ”reader, there’s something you need to know..” ”What is it Eunhyuk?” I waited patiently. ”I-”
”I.”
”I like you.”
My eyes suddenly went wide and stepped back due to the sudden confession. ”Wh-what..? Eunhyuk..”. ”I know you already like someone else, and I know that it’s wrong to confess, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.”
”I like you too. Eunhyuk” Eunhyuk POV ”I like you too. Eunhyuk” I immediately felt surprised and happy at the same time. ”Really? You mean that reader?” ”Of course I do, I’ve been waiting for you..” She smiled. ”Is it okay if I.. hug you?” I asked, ”Of course..”
We hugged for a solid minute when somebody suddenly took a picture of us. ”Yah! I’m gonna cry, you two are so cute..”, We see Su-ae holding her phone on one hand and doing a fake gesture of wiping tears on her other hand. ”Well congrats to you two! Now I'm the best friend who’s single..” Su-ae fake sobs and sniffles while walking away..
I smile and look at reader
Told you she likes you, stupid!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yay!! Finally, I can totally relate to Su-ae being the single one out of a duo.. *sobs*
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strangemaleswaps · 1 year ago
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Strange Cop Dad Swap
I made my way to the kitchen, expecting some good alcohol since Brittney was rich. Holy shit! There was a huge variety of everything! Now THIS is what I expected at a college party! Who fucking cared if I wasn't even in college yet, or old enough to drink? This shit is crazy!
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"What would you like my good sir?" asked some random guy at the table. I didn't think he was an actual bartender, since he was wearing normal clothes. Probably just some weirdo.
"Oh I dunn-" I didn't even finish my sentence when he put something into a shaker and poured it into a red plastic cup. He then handed it to me. Well, I guess if I'm at a college party, I gotta act like a college party guy. I chugged it all down in a second. Suddenly my throat burned like hell.
"Fuck man, one step at a time! Save the chugging for cheap beer. These drinks are classier." He poured me another. "This time baby steps my man."
I was kinda mad, but accepted the drink anyway. I walked back into the living room where people were on the dance floor. I saw my buddy Trent dancing with yet another random girl he just met. I swear that dude solely exists to break hearts.
"Hey! Garrett! Did you get the drinks?
"I got one. If you want one, go get it yourself."
"Ah fuck you! But seriously though aren't you scared your dad's gonna show up? I mean he IS a cop around here."
"Probably not. I'm sure there's lots of parties going on right now. What are the chances that he'd come to this one?” I noticed someone started talking to Brittney. It must've been bad because she widened her eyes and turned the music off. With the new silence in the room, we could hear the blaring police sirens outside.
"Shit who called the cops?" Someone said. The door opened and none other than my stupid dad appeared. His ugly bald head reflected the multicolored lights and he looked around at everyone, while I tried to hide myself behind the crowd. Beside him was the sheriff, Marty. My dad may have been good friends with Marty but he didn’t have to bring the fucking sheriff for something as simple as this.
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"Allright allright, party's over. Nobody's getting arrested as long as you cooperate." Everyone started walking out the door and I was exposed. My dad widened his eyes when he noticed me.
"Garrett?! What the fuck are you doing? You know better than that!" He just HAD to start the lecture NOW out of all times, embarrassing me in front of everyone.
"What? I can't come to a party now?"
"Don't try excuses on me! I saw that cup in your hand. What? You expect me to believe that's water? Get in the car. Everybody else move it!” We both started walking outside while Marty stayed to lead the others.
Inside the police car, we were silent for a while until he blew up on me once again.
"I can't believe you were fucking underage drinking! Do you have any idea how irresponsible you are?! You're in your senior year of high school. Do you really think that’s going to be a good habit when you go to college?! You're grounded until graduation. I don't care how harsh that sounds. Graduation you hear?” I knew that nothing I said would change anything so I kept my mouth shut the rest of the car ride. 
Back at home, we said nothing to each other as I walked up to my room and slammed the door. About an hour went by and I heard a knock, followed by my dad coming in.
"Hey."
"Go away."
"I just wanted to say that I overreacted a bit back there. It made me so angry seeing the type of person you might’ve ended up as." He was fumbling with his wedding ring. I don't know why he keeps it on anyway. I never knew my mom, and it's clear my dad is divorced so why does he wear a damn wedding ring? He needs to find a girlfriend or something!
“You have no idea how stressful it is! Why can’t I go to some little party just to unwind?”
“I was young once too! I just don’t want you to go down a bad path. You have so much more to learn. This isn’t a good habit to form when you go to college.” It was then that I blew up on him.
“Hey at least I am going to college! Unlike a certain dumbass cop…” His eyes widened and I saw nothing but pure anger on his face,
"I was going to shorten your grounding sentence, but after that attitude not anymore!" He then slammed the door once again.
Trent texted me a bit later, asking if I was going to be able to go to Brittney’s homecoming party. Shit! I forgot about that! There was no way I was going to miss it so we devised a plan for me to sneak out.
The night arrived and I had my plan all set. Trent was going to call the cops on some other party to lure my dad away. When he leaves, Trent will come and pick me up and it's party time! I was in my room pretending to be bored, when right on schedule, my dad came in.
"I got another dumbass party to shut down so stay here, and don't even think about leaving this room. You're still grounded." He had a serious look in his eye.
"Sure sure. I'll be good," I said sarcastically. I looked out the window and as soon as his car was out of sight, I texted Trent. Within minutes he arrived. I quickly got dressed and he picked me up.
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"Dude, you're either the bravest guy ever, or the stupidest."
"Hey, I won't stay too long. Just enough to see what it's like really. And then I'll be back in my room before he comes home."
The house was easily twice as packed as the last party, it was incredible. Brittney came down the stairs and approached me with a confused look on her face.
"Hey, wait I thought you were grounded or something. Aren't you afraid your dad is gonna come back? He better not."
"Nah, relax. He's doing some other stupid police work. I won't stay too long anyway."
"Allright, if you say so."
I went to the kitchen, like last time, to find an even bigger variety of drinks! Nobody else was in there so I thought I'd experiment myself this time. I picked up the shaker and started pouring drinks, even though I didn't know what the hell they were. But I didn't care! I'm just glad I was able to sneak away from my dad. I tried the drink and…well it was actually awful. Oh well. I headed to the dance floor and started showing off my moves. I could hear everyone cheering me on until I felt a bit faint. The last thing I remembered was falling over and a couple people looking at me concerned.
When I opened my eyes, I was outside in the dark. What happened? Was I that drunk and they kicked me out? I felt pretty normal though. I walked back up to the door. When I closed it, a draft flew in, which was especially cold on my head for some reason. I let out a deep breath and when I turned around, everyone was staring at me. But it wasn't the type of confused stare I expected; it was a terrified stare. The music stopped and it felt like they were staring into my soul.
"Uh, I'm ok now.” My voice sounded really weird. There was an awkward silence until someone shouted in the back.
"Well party's over…AGAIN!" As everyone started walking out, I noticed Brittney was yelling at someone on the floor.
"Nah, fuck you Garrett. You're not allowed here again. Get up!" Weird coincidence that there was a guy with the same name as me on the dance floor too. As the crowd cleared, I felt a chill down my back as I found “Garrett” looked exactly like me! He seemed to be unconscious. When I approached him and Brittney, she looked up at me…which was weird because we were the same height. Did she get shorter or something?
"Oh uh, he didn't get beat up or anything bad. Just had a few drinks I guess." She spoke so compliantly, unlike the normal way she gives me attitude with every sentence. I noticed the guy on the floor was wearing my clothes too. He didn't just look like me, he WAS me! Was he a clone or something? What's going on? A breeze came through the still-opened door and hit my head again. Why is it so cold up there? I touched the back of my head, and felt a smooth spot. What the fuck? I searched around for my hair…for ANY hair! But all I could find was a smooth bald head. It couldn't be…I looked down at myself and found I was wearing a police officer's uniform, complete with the badge and full utility belt. Brittney stared at me, concerned.
"Is uh everything all right, officer?" No no! Don't call me that!
"I uh, can I use your bathroom?"
"Uh yeah, it's up the stairs and to the left."
As I made my way up and through the hallway, I stared down at my hands, noticing eerily similar things - a wedding ring and a watch that looked exactly like the one my dad wore. I opened the bathroom door and quickly locked it. I gazed into the mirror to find my fears had come true. I turned into my dad!
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I grabbed my cheeks and tried pinching them, to make sure it wasn't all a prank and I was just wearing a mask, but nope. I could feel it all. It was real. Fuck! I saw how smooth and shiny my head was; I knew he shaved his head every morning, but I didn't realize how smooth doing that actually made it. It's like a fuckin bowling ball. I hate this! I had long hair before and now it's just all gone! It was freezing up there! I hated cops, so it was really uncomfortable wearing an officer's uniform too.
"Hey are you ok in there?" It was Brittney. I faked a flush and washed my hands.
"Is Garrett still asleep?" It felt weird referring to myself in the 3rd person.
"Yeah he won't wake up."
"I'll just carry him to the car."
Brittany walked to the kitchen, probably to clean up the alcohol before I saw the amount of it. When I got to the living room, I found Marty standing there. He looked up when he approached me and pointed at me. 
“Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?” Shit. Does he know?! 
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“I’m sorry I-” He turned his fake frown into a smile.
“Don’t be. Sometimes we just can’t let anything else come before our duty. Even me.” He leaned over to kiss me. What?! What’s going on? “I guess we’ll have to reschedule that date to some other time.”
A date? Does this mean the whole time, my dad was gay? And for Marty? Was the whole wedding ring thing a facade? Marty actually had one too so maybe they both did it to prevent a scandal within the police department or something? I snapped back to reality when I noticed Marty was still waiting for an answer.
“Uh yeah, sure. Of course!”
“Good! Let me know!” He rubbed my bald head. It was then that I started getting hard …my dad's cock was getting hard. Marty wasn’t my type though! But suddenly the thought of him was making me feel good. Is this because I'm in my dad's body or because he's flirting with me? 
I picked up..myself..off the dance floor and put him over my shoulder. I walked over to my dad's police car, and reached into my pocket for the keys to open it. I placed…myself inside, buckled him in, took my phone out of his pocket, and sat down in the driver's seat. I always hated my dad and hated cops in general but it felt pretty awesome actually sitting in the driver's seat of a police car. Like one of those movies where they have to steal one to save the world or something. The flashing lights were still on, but luckily I knew how to turn them off. I pressed the button and began driving home.
When I got home, I picked up my body once again, and carried him. It didn't really occur to me earlier, but if I'm in my dad's body, does this mean he's in my body? Fuck, I can't stand the thought of my dad going around embarrassing me in front of everyone! But he still hadn't woken up yet. What if whatever magical spell made us swap was keeping him asleep? But if he does wake up I need somewhere to put him at least. I walked upstairs and towards his room, and placed him on his own bed. I guess that'll do. I went over to my own room and plopped onto my bed, the pillow feeling extra comfy touching my bare head. I rubbed it again, actually kinda enjoying how it felt. Even though the body belongs to my dad, I'm still borrowing it right now. So I guess I have the freedom to touch myself anywhere. Not that I would want to go…down there. That's my dad's cock, gross! But I'm gonna need to jerk off eventually; I'm already feeling kinda horny now…but why? The thought of Marty crossed my mind and I suddenly was imagining him naked. Shit, not this again. He kinda was cute though, in like a lame cop kinda way. Man, I honestly wanna fuck him now.
At this point my cock was getting so stiff that I could barely take it. I started stripping, taking the heavy utility belt off first. Each garment came off until I was just in my dad's boxers.
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I can't believe I was about to do this. I felt around my new dad bod, then peeled the underwear down to see my dad's cock. It was actually pretty big, maybe like 10 inches or so! So nasty…but I had to focus on the thought of Marty to stay hard. I took the underwear off so I was fully nude, laid down on my bed and started jerking it. I imagined Marty cornering me against the wall, kissing me until he grabbed my cock. He then got down on his knees and started sucking it until…I was pulled out of my fantasy and came. The white load shot all over my bed, much further than I could ever do in my body! After the climax wore off, I realized how gross it was that my dad's cum was all over my bed. But it felt so good! Actually, I have no clue how long I'm gonna be like this, or how long my dad is going to stay asleep so I could definitely take over his life for a bit. I'm not grounded anymore! Even better, I guess I'm a cop now so I have power and authority! I took my dad's phone - I mean MY phone - and called up Marty.
"Hey Marty, I have an idea…”
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theanimeroom · 1 year ago
Note
I have been thinking on a 3some with nagireo PLEASE, I AM BEGGINGGG, an as their first time, they go to excited and addicted to it and reader liking the fact of them been so needy
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
okay okay hear me out hear me out… let’s talk about professional soccer player!nagireo shall we?
the last thing you had expected after meeting the pair was for either of them to take an interest in you. you were an avid fan of nagi and reo, constantly coming to watch their team play, getting the closest seats you could in order to watch the white and purple haired men do what the do best. there were even a few times when you’d brought posters to their games, their names written in pretty lettering as you cheered them on.
you’d probably never know that reo had noticed you long ago, bringing the pretty fan with too much time on their hands to nagi’s attention after noticing that it was your second time attending their games in a row. he’d smile in your direction whenever he saw you in the stands, always making sure to show off a little more than usual for his favorite admirer.
when reo and nagi finally got the chance to meet you up close and personal, the purple haired man didn’t waste a second in his pursuits. he sweet talked you with nagi by his side, compliments being thrown your way leaving your face warm. he thought you were so cute, but you were even cuter when you were laying under either one of the men with your eyes screwed shut, needy moans leaving your parted lips were every caress of their fingers against your skin.
“isn’t she just the cutest thing?” reo asks, turning his head to peer at nagi, who’s bored expression perked up when you cried out and thrashed on the bed, reo’s nails dragging swiftly over your perk nipple. had it not been for the large tent pushing against the fabric of nagi’s sweats, you would’ve thought he was completely uninterested in you, but you knew that wasn’t the case when you would lock eyes with him, his pupils dilated to the point where he looked like nothing more than a rabid animal.
his nod was firm and you couldn’t help the way your body ached for him, for them both, your hands reaching out to urge the white haired man closer. “please,” you didn’t care how helpless the request sounded coming from you, not when the two men with you made you feel this good. reo snickered to himself when you extended your arm, repeatedly balling your hand into little pleading fists towards his best friend. looking behind him with a smirk lacing his expression. “you heard her, nagi. why don’t you come over here and play with her a little?”
the taller male stalked over to you, a slender fingertip dancing across your neck, trailing a bit lower to where reo was still pinching and teasing at your nipples. he’d been watching his friend toy with your body, so he knew the reaction he would get when his hand replaced reo’s thumb and index finger squeezing around your nipple, pulling it towards himself with a harsh tug. you cried out once more, back arching into his grip. when your eyes peeled themselves a open after being screwed shut from pleasure, nagi was looking at you with something akin to demented curiosity.
“i want to hear you make more noise,” he drawled, releasing the bud in favor of cupping your heat, palm grinding down against your clit until you were grinding your hips back down against him, desperate pleas and cries leaving your mouth as he requested. “hmm, so pretty. want to hear more.”
it was almost like he was talking to himself, but you couldn’t focus on a word he was saying when the feeling of his hand dragging across your most sensitive spots left your ears ringing and body sweaty. for a moment, you’d even forgotten about reo, who was watching nagi play with your sopping wet cunt, yet still teasing you mercilessly.
broken “please’s” and “more’s” escaped you, and although nagi had all but tuned out what you were saying, only hearing your increasingly higher pitched moans, reo was counting every time the words left your mouth, remembering them later for how many orgasms he owed you after nagi decided to let him have a little more fun with you.
a breath of relief left you when nagi removed his hand, your lips shiny and sticky with your arousal for them.
“fuck,” reo moaned, gripping his own erection through his sweatpants. nagi swiped a finger through your slick, watching the string that left him connected to where you needed them most. a small hum left his mouth, not wasting a second before sinking the digit into you. your mouth fell open at the sudden intrusion, a moan prepped and ready on your lips. before you could muster a sound there was a tug on your hair, head snapping back as your eyes searched for the source of your sudden pain.
your eyes were met by reo’s, who was smirking at you with visage of desire all over him. the look he was wearing worried you, you hadn’t seen him look quite this feral before, but it left your cunt squeezing around nagi’s finger. your wrecked expression was enough to make the purple haired man crack, his bottom lip jutting out in faux concern. “awe baby, you sound so cute when you’re begging for our cocks, do you want it that bad?”
when you nodded vigorously, reo smiled to himself. “then what do you say you take us both, hm? think you can do that for us?”
your eyes widened at his request. you’d been with them both before, but taking both of their cocks at the same time? it only took a wicked grin from reo at your bewildered expression for you realize that this was going to be a long night.
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guiltyasdave · 1 year ago
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just think of the fun things we could do
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a little extra from the dress series universe, takes place before the main story
paring: Dave York x f!reader
a/n: The plot brain isn’t braining, but the horny brain certainly is. I wrote this on my phone in one night and read it over once, don’t judge it too hard.
word count: ~1.2k
summary: “That wasn’t a good girl thing to do though. Sending me that fucking picture when you know damn well where I am right now.” “I’m sorry, sir,” you whisper and hear him scoff. “No, you’re not.”
warnings/tags: explicit smut (18+ only!), able-bodied reader, phone sex, praise kink, degradation kink, sir kink, masturbation (m & f), dirty talk, Dave being a menace as usual, dom/sub dynamics, idiots in love, a tiny bit of fluff
dividers by @/saradika <3
find my full masterlist here!
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Desperate, are we?
Your phone lights up on the bedside table beside you, illuminating your dark bedroom. You grab for it quicker than you’d like to admit, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harsh glow of the display.
You had been trying to go to sleep, trying to accept that he wasn’t going to reply to the photo that you had sent him earlier. The photo of your own reflection in your bedroom mirror, wearing nothing but the lingerie that you had bought today while picturing him tearing it off your body.
You had debated if you could to send it to him, but had ultimately decided that Dave wasn’t someone who left his phone lying around and that it should be safe. He had never said that you weren’t allowed to text him, even though he was usually the one to initiate contact first.
When he didn’t reply, you reasoned with yourself that he was probably just busy, that it wasn’t a rejection. But you missed him, you had been missing him since he kissed you goodbye the day before and left your apartment to return to his real life. You wished that you didn’t, that you couldn’t still feel the whisper of his rough touch on your hips, where bruises were forming now, and the press of his lips against yours before he muttered “be good” and pulled your apartment door closed behind him.
But you do miss him and you can still feel him, which had you tossing and turning in your bed and checking your phone far too often, as if you’d somehow missed a notification.
Until now. You stare at the tiny letters on your screen, already biting your lip in nervous anticipation, when another text comes through.
Are you still up?
You hastily type back a Yes, not sure what to expect, when your phone starts ringing in your hand. “Hey,” you breathe, after quickly accepting the call.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
The sound of his deep voice, even through the phone’s speaker, fills you with want immediately.
“Did you touch yourself?”
He skips all pleasantries, his tone stern and in control, just how you know him. Just how you like him.
“No, I was- I was waiting for you.”
“Good girl,” he coos and the rumble of his voice goes straight to your pussy, already aching for him. “That wasn’t a good girl thing to do though. Sending me that fucking picture when you know damn well where I am right now.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you whisper and hear him scoff.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” you admit and his responding chuckle makes you smile.
“So what did you want, huh? I fucked you all weekend and that insatiable pussy still can’t get enough?” The tone in his voice makes you shudder; this is more than you had hoped for when sending him that photo. Your fingertips slide under your sleep shirt on their own accord and you stay silent for a moment too long. Dave clicks his tongue impatiently.
“I expect an answer when I’m talking to you. It’s been one day and you’ve already forgotten all your manners, it seems like.”
You take a deep, shuddering breath. Two minutes of talking to him and you already feel like you’re melting.
“I wanted to show you. I-I bought this today, thinking about you. Just wanted you to see.”
Dave groans softly and you feel yourself clenching around nothing at the sound. “You did? Looking like a good little slut, and all just for me, isn’t that right doll?”
“Yes, sir,” you breathe and he clicks his tongue again. “Say it.”
You simultaneously love and hate when he does this and you squirm the way you always do, but the will to please him wins out, the way it always does. Your quiet “I wanted to look like a slut for you,” makes him chuckle again and you feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your cheeks.
“I know you did. The next time I see you, you’re gonna wear that while I fuck that greedy pussy until you can’t walk right for days, how’s that sound? Maybe then you’ll be satisfied.” You rub your thighs together at his words, smearing the wetness between your legs across your skin and a whine slips from your throat.
“Please,” you whimper. You fingers are edging closer to where you’re dripping, desperate for just a small touch, “Sir, can I please…”
You can hear Dave’s grin through the speaker. “You want to play with yourself? Want to come?”
You hear the rustling of sheets on his side as you breathe out a “Yes, please sir”, desperate for his permission.
It’s silent for a moment like he’s contemplating. “Okay, fine. One finger, nice and slow, sweetheart.” You whine again, your pointer finger dipping down between your folds, swirling through the slick there and moving up to your clit to circle it slowly.
You’re already so worked up that the simple touch makes you gasp, which earns you another groan from Dave. “Always so fucking wet,” he growls, “so eager for everything I give you, so fucking easy�� Fuck yourself with it, go on.”
You obediently thrust your finger inside of your slick heat, but it’s not enough, not when you’re used to the way he’s touching you. “I need more, please,” you plead with him, noting how wrecked you already sound.
“Two then, but that’s enough you greedy little thing. You come like this or not at all, are we clear?” he tells you sternly.
You try to replicate the way Dave fingers you, the rough touch of his thick fingers, the way he fills you up. You curl your fingers, but you can’t reach those spots so deep inside of you the way he does, another desperate whine escaping you.
You’re so close but can’t get all the way there, when his own breaths grow louder, mixed with deep groans, and the thought that he’s touching himself to the sounds that you’re making, has probably been doing that the entire time, is enough to finally bring you to the edge.
“Can I come, please sir?” you pant, your thumb rubbing over your clit in quick circles, imagining his more calloused fingertips.
He leaves you dangling for a few more seconds before he roughly commands, “Come for me. Right now.”
You let go, a loud moan filling your dark bedroom as your walls spasm around empty air, more wetness seeping out of you and your body shuddering as you come down from your high.
Judging from his panting breaths, he came right along with you and you’re hit with another wave of longing for him, to be close to him. You roll over onto your side, still holding your phone close to you as you both listen to each other’s breathing slowly evening out.
“I liked this,” you smile and he hums in agreement. You resist the sudden urge to tell him that you miss him, that you want to feel his arms around you and his breath on your neck as you fall asleep. “Good night, Dave,” you mutter instead.
“Good night, sweetheart,” his voice sounds through the speaker. You almost miss the way he quietly adds, “You look beautiful,” and you half assume that you’ve misheard him, but he ends the call before you can ask.
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