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alexiroflife · 2 days
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"first day"
fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off
Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door
to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of
WC: 1,701
Warning(s): none
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"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.
His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"
"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."
"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.
"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."
"Not at all, actually," you agree.
Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"
"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."
"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.
"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.
"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."
"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.
"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."
"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."
"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.
"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."
Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.
"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"
"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."
"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"
"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."
"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.
"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.
"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.
"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.
"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.
"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.
"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."
"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."
"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."
Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"
"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."
The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."
"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."
Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.
"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."
The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"
"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."
"But-"
"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.
"Yes, ma'am."
Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"
"We done, now?"
"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."
Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.
Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.
He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."
You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."
"I know. I will," he nods.
"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."
"I won't."
"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."
"I'll try."
You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.
"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.
"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"
"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."
"Please do."
Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."
"Don't speed, Toji."
"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.
"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.
"See ya, doll."
"Bye, mum."
The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.
You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.
You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.
Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.
"Yep."
Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.
Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."
"I'm gonna cry."
The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"
"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."
"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."
"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."
"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."
"You're being for real?"
"Of course I am."
You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."
"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"
"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."
He smirks. "Will do, doll."
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orphicmeliora · 2 days
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Thinking about harbouring the most atrocious crush on him.
He's the dearest friend you've had since forever and you don't remember when or how this thing started but it hits you like a ton of bricks in the middle of the night, sitting on the kitchen counter and him making whatever shitty blend of coffee he's thought of. He's never been good at that.
Your gorgeous, gorgeous man.
Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. You chant in your head but it's a fruitless endeavor. Your foolish heart always mistakes his one act of kindness, one sweet smile, his gentle assurances, and the way he focuses his undivided attention on you, for something more. For something like... Love.
He does that for everyone! You tell your heart, but the stupid thing never listens to reason does it?
He looks at you, curiosity apparent in his eyes probably wondering what the hell is going on in your head and you realize you haven't said anything in the long while you've been admiring staring at him. And so you open your mouth to say something, God, anything at all. But then—
He tilts his head, his hair swaying with the motion and falling perfectly into place like dominoes, the action so endearing you have to catch your breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and clutch the counter in a death grip lest you do something idiotic like rush into his arms and melt in his embrace.
Gods above, how you'd love to do just that.
"Are you alright?" He asks, so kind even though you're acting quite pathetic. You're acting as if it's been 9 long years apart instead of the 9 hours you hadn't seen him. His mother really raised him to be a gentleman, you think. And a heartbreaker, you add a beat later. You can only imagine how you look to him, like a deer caught in headlights, hair, a tangled mess and—oh God you're wearing your ugliest pyjamas! You just wanted to dig a hole and lie in it for eternity.
Still he looks at you so affectionately.
He moves forward, each step feels like a hammer against your heart as he moves closer to you. You gasp, wide-eyed you look around vehemently for something to stop him. You're not prepared for this. You know the proximity, his scent engulfing your senses would turn you into a bigger fool.
But you find nothing and now he's standing so close, towering over you even with the added height of the kitchen counter. He's so ridiculously tall. He's perfect. He's within reach and your hands tremble. Every bone in your body wanted to assimilate into his.
"Why won't you look at me?" He can't be this oblivious. Surely, he must have suspected something, it's not like you're being subtle.
You breathe deeply to calm down but even that comfort is stolen from you as his scent surrounds you and diffuses into your blood and messes with your brain. As if his presence alone wasn't enough.
"Have I done something wrong? Is that why you're avoiding me?" His fingers graze your chin and you have to bite back the indecent sound you almost let out. He lifts your head and you feel the self-restraint snap inside you.
"Yes!" You yell in his face. Desperate now, you wanted to hide far, far away from him. Being around him was too dangerous. He was too dangerous.
"Oh," His tone is so despondent, your heart wrenches at the thought of him being sad because of you. His hand falls from your face and you mourn the loss, the grief buried for the time being for other important emotions. "Please tell me what I did so I can fix it right away. I can't stand the thought of you being mad at me."
You wanted to cry.
Your chest feels tight and heavy and you can't breathe properly. All you know is that you have to get out of here and now. So you say the first thought in your head then turned swiftly and ran like they were rats hot on your trail.
"Stop being so attractive!"
You know your mind will never let you live it down but you think screaming into a pillow might help.
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pparadiselost · 20 hours
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dressed to kill.
various (hinata shoyo, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, kuroo tetsurou) x fem reader haikyuu men and the lingerie/costumes they like to see on you. warning(s): nsfw dividers: cafekitsune. minors do not interact.
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HINATA SHOYO + BABYDOLLS
hinata shoyo is not a picky man. 
he’s a great boyfriend, someone who wants you to feel confident in your own skin and show off your own style. he always hypes you up no matter what you’re wearing, and the fact that he’s genuine about every compliment he gives you only adds to how much of a sweet lover he is.
but if there is one singular thing that he would get on his hands and knees to beg you to wear is nothing more than a babydoll lingerie dress.
something about them just has him going wild. it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, his usually quick brain fried into a horny hum of nothingness when he imagines you all dolled up in the sheer material. his rationale goes straight out the window and his cock takes the wheel, throbbing and aching and needing to get his hands all over your body as soon as possible.
maybe it’s how innocent it makes you look, the fabric flaring around your hips and covering the upper part of your thighs, leaving your bare legs to tease his imagination. maybe it’s how the upper half hugs your body so snugly, the thin cloth barely covering your tits and your nipples poking through if he stares hard enough. it’s really all in the balance, making your beauty shine while leaving just enough to have his imagination wandering. 
it’s almost embarrassing how often he’s jerked off to this fantasy. all of his characteristic sunny swagger is gone when he buys you your first dress and asks you to wear it, sounding more like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity rather than your energetic boyfriend. but it’s like a switch flips in his brain the very second you agree, and without a chance for you to reconsider, he throws you down in bed.
he shoves his face right in between your legs, and his mouth goes straight to where he’s been itching to be throughout this whole ordeal. the translucent material of your lingerie drapes over his head like a veil as he presses hungry kisses to your pussy. he swirls the broad of his tongue over your pulsing hole, loving the way you suck in a sharp breath and shudder. he’s going to make sure to do you right, to fuck you right, for indulging him so well.
“fuck- you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he laughs against your cunt, sounding like a man starved. he might as well be, with how messily he’s eating you out. he smacks his lips, the wet sound of your juices coating his tongue and lips echoing throughout your shared bedroom. “shit- you’re fucking perfect… my pretty girl, being so good for me.”
you unconsciously clench your thighs around his head when he sucks on your clit. heat shoots all throughout your belly, and you’re sure you’re going to ruin the sheets with how much your pussy’s leaking. he takes turns toying with your puffy clit and teasing the outline of your hole until you’re begging incoherently for him to just do something to you already. your pussy can’t take being teased like this.
“fuck me! please fuck me, shoyo-,” you’re almost sobbing, the hem of your babydoll scrunched up in shoyo’s hands as he grips at your thighs to keep them pried apart. it leaves your exposed cunt at his complete mercy, and even thinking about that fact on its own has your walls throbbing and clenching painfully on itself. “anything- your tongue, fingers, cock- anything! please- need you inside me so bad, sho…”
“don’t worry.” he presses a quick kiss to your clit, the shaky moan you reward with him like honey to his ears. “i’ll get there. but fuck… you look so pretty… i want to take my time with you.”
you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping you, his calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh. but everything about him is so arousing, and you’re equally as drunk off of him as he is to you. shoyo thinks he’s died and gone to whatever version of heaven there might be. placebo effect be damned, he swears on his life that your pussy tastes so much sweeter whenever he eats you out while you’re wearing your dress.
“got yourself all pretty for me, didn’t you? you knew that i would like this, that i’d want to fuck you senseless after seeing you in it. was that your plan from the start?” hinata asks breathlessly. he swallows back more of your slick, and his cock keens inside of his pants, his tip sticky and swollen and wanting literally any form of attention. but he can push that aside for now. now, he wants to enjoy the sight laid out before him, of your already fucked out face and your body covered in the delicate lace and sheer fabric he’s dreamt of, legs spread out the way he likes it and pussy drooling for no one but him. 
knowing that you put this on for him, that you dressed up for him, that you wanted to look good for him makes his dick so hard that it hurts. he promises to himself that he’s going to buy out some poor lingerie store’s entire stock just to see you in different colors and materials, and he’s going to fuck your brains out in each and every single one of them until you’re sick of even the letter ‘b’ in babydoll. 
“gonna make you cum on my tongue, yeah? love making you fall apart on my mouth,” he breathes against your cunt. he chuckles when he can feel you clenching up around his tongue, flicking at your hole and making your toes curl. “gonna fuck you on my cock after that then, doll. that sound good to you? gonna make you cum and squirt so you know just how badly all of this gets to me.”
this is going to become a bad habit of his, more addictive than anything else he could imagine, only making his obsession with everything that has to do with you so much worse.
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KAGEYAMA TOBIO + ANYTHING WITH WHITE LACE
as much as kageyama tobio hates to admit it, he undeniably has a bit of a romantic streak. his love for volleyball, his dedication to bettering himself, his constant search for the one that continues to challenge him to unseen heights: it all points to the unending ache in his heart that searches for someone to be by his side.
only a part of that desire gets quenched when he falls for you. you were his first, and he’s determined to make you his last. it’s only logical, in his mind, that seeing you in white is enough to awaken something like a sleeper agent inside of him. it makes you think of the day you’ll be decked from head to toe in a beautiful white dress and a lacy white veil, and he’ll stare at you as if he’s falling in love all over again, barely holding back his tears as he waits for you to meet him at the altar.
it’s not his fault that he wants to make that dream a reality so badly. you can feel the way kageyama stiffens and struggles to meet your eyes whenever you wear white around him, be it anything from a simple pajama t-shirt to something more formal. it drives him wild, and it makes him want to eat you up, to pin you down and drink up the sight of you in that pretty color, to let whatever restraint left inside of him go completely.
it takes him a surprisingly long time for him to actually bring the idea of lingerie to you. it becomes a bit of a guilty secret of his. he buys all sorts of pretty, lacy white bras, crotchless panties, and matching sets, only to get shy and hide it away in his closet. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but he wonders if he’s ramping things up too quickly, if his love might become smothering to you.
but if anything, you’re worse than he is. you’re more than happy to don whatever piece he sheepishly offers up to you, and seeing you baring yourself up to him in the lingerie he could only fantasize about makes his throat close up. blood rushes to his cock, hardening almost too quickly for him to process, and his dick feels like it’s about to explode. he whines when you press up against him and coo something sweetly towards him. your hands rub against the bulge in his pants as you press your clothed tits against his chest, his cock twitches painfully when he notices the way the lace trim moves with the plush flesh.
it’s bad. he begs you to ride him, to take his cock so he can see your entire body covered in the lacy material that mimics bridalwear so temptingly. he likes hooking his fingers around the waistline of your panties just to feel the lace ride against his skin.
“so pretty- looks so good on you-,” he slurs as you buck your hips. you grin down at him, loving how fucked out and pussy drunk he looks, the way he cries out whenever you slide down his length and let his cock breach your tight hole. “gonna cum just from staring at you… fuck, you’re so fucking tight…!”
“do you like how i look?” you reach for his wrists, and kageyama feels like he’s going to die when you glide his large, calloused palms over the curve of your hips. he gropes at your figure, moaning loudly when he can feel the white fabric moving underneath his knuckles. you smile down at him, and you make sure to bounce your tits in his face to give your boyfriend a good show. “you wanted me to wear this for you, didn’t you?”
he nods frantically. his balls are straining against your ass, and your pussy won’t quit clenching up around him. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t think you would take his thinly veiled fetish and turn it immediately against him. “you look good- look so, so good- wanna cum inside you…”
“yeah?” you repeat. you drag his hands up to your breasts, the white lace barely covering your hardened nipples. you groan his name when he touches you, his fingers pinching at your nipples and desperately squeezing at your tits. “you wanna cum inside of me while i’m wearing this? is that why you’re so hard right now? your cock’s so hard inside of me, tobio… feels so good when i ride it.”
he clenches his eyes shut at your praise, and satisfaction stirs deep inside of you when his cock twitches in your pussy. you speed up your pace a little bit, and his moans grow high-pitched, his hands gripping onto your chest to ground himself to no avail. heat blooms all over his body, and he can’t hold on much longer. your body feels too good. your pussy’s melting his dick, squeezing him into utter submission. knowing that you’re more than willing to let his lovesick fantasies play out makes him want to fuck his cock so deep and hard into you, to stuff his cum all up into your womb until it leaks out of you and drips down your thighs into a sticky mess.  
you click your tongue down at him. “eyes open, tobio. you’re the one that wanted to see me in this lingerie… don’t tell me that you’re chickening out now.”
“don’t- don’t tease me-,” he pants, the ragged edge in his voice has the arousal in your gut churning. he glares up at you, and the hunger and barely concealed restraint in his eyes are almost palpable. 
his hands drop from your chest down to your hips. he drags your hips up his swollen length and then forces you all the way down, snapping his hips up so that his whole, thick cock plows its way into you. red, hot electric pleasure shoots up your spine, and he manages to rip a strangled cry of his name out of you.
“is this what you wanted?” kageyama hisses. “i can play this game with you. don’t blame me if i end up knocking you up after all of this.” 
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TSUKISHIMA KEI + MAID COSTUMES
despite his uptight, holier-than-thou attitude he displays at times, tsukishima kei can’t deny the simpler pleasures of seeing his pretty girlfriend dressed up in a frilly maid costume with a short, short skirt. he is just a man, at the end of the day, and something about coming home after a long shift at the museum to see you greet him in the cute costume with your hair and makeup all done for him makes his body flush. 
you’re so eager to shower him with attention, to help him unwind, to call him “sir” and “master kei” in that singsong voice of yours, and you prancing around in front of him and accidentally flashing him your dainty panties whenever the skirt bounces up too high is only the beginning.
part of him wants to shove the tiny skirt up to your waist and bending you over on the nearest surface to fuck you out on his cock, hearing you choke out his name just so he can shove his fingers into your mouth and scold you about not using the proper honorifics with him. another part of him wants to take his time with you, to feel you shudder as he slowly drags his lithe fingers up your thighs, unwrapping you like his own personal present, and making you suck him off while still fully dressed all so he can cum on your costume and hear you squeal about the mess he’s making. 
it’s not like he’s pressed for time now that he’s done with work. there’s no need to pick between the two equally tempting options when he can just do both with you.
“what a messy maid i’ve got here… you’re drooling all over me. can’t take it?” a big hand tugs at your hair, surprisingly gentle despite the harsh edge to his words. you’re struggling to fit more of tsukishima’s long cock into your mouth without using your hands, tied behind your back with a white bow that matches the rest of the decorations on your maid costume. 
you swallow around him. your mouth feels so full with his length, his girth already making you struggle to wrap your lips around him fully. you like it though, you like testing your limits like this, the warm tightness of your mouth and throat serving to pleasure tsukishima the best you can. after all, a maid’s job is to live for whatever her master wants, isn’t it?
you gag slightly on his dick when tsukishima tries to push you down a bit deeper. saliva dots the edges of your lips and coats his throbbing length. you mimic the motion of sex the best you can, bobbing your head up and down as much of him as you can possibly take. you flutter your eyelashes up at him sweetly, despite the fact that you’re blowing him off and looking more like a pornstar than you are a truly innocent maid. but it’s you, and that’s what matters more than anything else to tsukishima. 
“there’s a good girl…,” he coos down at you, and the loose smirk hanging off of his lips makes your pussy throb. it’s always hard to tell when he’s genuinely praising you versus when he’s only pretending to, but it turns you on so badly to know that he’s the one in control of everything. you slobber shamelessly around him as you daydream about how good it would feel to take his thick cock inside of your pussy. he would stretch you out so good, and just the thought of cumming and creaming on his dick makes you drool that much harder around him, like a dog to a bone.
he keeps twitching and pulsing inside of your mouth, and you know he’s close from how he’s gripping your hair and his low groans. you want it. you want him to cum inside of your mouth, and you want to swallow it all. but he has other plans in mind, and despite how expertly you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and moan at the salty taste of his pre-cum spreading all over the inside of your cheeks and in the back of your throat, tsukishima refuses to give you the satisfaction of the heady taste of his semen flooding your mouth. 
he yanks himself out of your mouth, and you whine, your throat and mouth deprived of him. you stick your tongue out, feeling like a kid with their toy stolen away, and you wiggle your hips unconsciously, arousal dripping from between your thighs and surely making a mess out of your thin panties. 
“ah, ah, not so quick,” the blond laughs down at you breathlessly. you watch with deprived and enchanted eyes as he finishes himself off, denying yourself even the pleasure of drinking his cum, and you let out a pathetic whimper when he cums on you instead. his hot cum burns your skin, hot and sticky and heavy, and it goes all over your face, your skimpily clothed chest, into your hair, and enough to flood your senses. 
you lick at your lips, the salty taste not quite enough to satisfy you completely. you need more, you want all of it inside your pussy, you’re not going to be happy with being teased and having your prize dangled in front of your eyes tantalizingly. tsukishima knows this, and he knows that a good maid should never get all needy in front of her master.
he grips your face as you try to wipe and collect his cum to lick off of your fingers. you look like a disaster, your costume now askew and his cum staining so much of your body. 
“did you actually think you deserve my cum, sweetheart?” he asks, eyes narrowing slightly into a dark sneer. you barely suppress a shudder as his cock slowly hardens again, and it might just be your imagination but it looks thicker, longer, harder than it was mere minutes ago. he smiles mockingly at you as if he can detect your anticipation mixed with fear. “my messy maid… if you want it that badly, you’re going to have to work a little bit harder for it.”
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KUROO TETSUROU + PLAYBOY BUNNY
kuroo tetsurou wasn’t always the silver-tongued, handsome man he is today. people always laugh when he recounts his younger days, especially when he was nothing more than a nerdy high schooler with horrible bedhead, an affinity for chemistry, and an incessant love for his school’s volleyball team. he doesn’t have too much trouble garnering attention nowadays, but there was a point in his life when all he had to quell his own confusing teenager hormones was a pile of trusty playboy magazines stashed discreetly underneath his bed. 
it makes his cheeks prickle with embarrassment to think too long about the scantily dressed women in all of the pictures and pin-ups, worn out after years of use, but he’d be lying if he said seeing the models dressed up in the signature bunny custom didn’t do something to his adolescent mind. even though it’s so lewd, there’s something classy about the way the costume accentuates the figure and leaves just enough covered for the imagination.
it’s no wonder that that became his first pick when the idea of dressing up for him came up. and god, the sight of you shyly approaching him in the same costume that became such a staple in his heart makes him want to eat you up whole. nothing you do can cover yourself from his hawk-like eyes, and seeing you squirm and trying to hide under your hands or arms makes him want to turn you into a mess where you can’t hide any part of yourself from him.
“mmm… it fits you perfectly, doll,” a low voice rasps from behind you. kuroo’s thick thighs make the perfect seat for you, and your stomach does a flip when you can feel the tent in his pants rubbing up against your ass. the leather of the costume’s main piece does wonders to your body. they push up your tits perfectly, and that coupled with a pair of sensual black stockings, red bottom heels (which kuroo generously paid for which earned him a long lecture from you after you saw the price tag), and the cutest little bunny tail on your ass makes you the vision of a wet dream come true. 
he grips your hips, big hands feeling up the curves of your waist and ass. he rocks you back and forth on his bulge, and you’re rewarded with a groan from somewhere deep in his throat when he feels the electric sparks of having his favorite girl grinding against his erection. you pick up the rhythm, rocking your hips against him, the act so desperate and so carnal despite the layers of clothing between the two of you.
“you have- hah- no fucking clue how long i’ve imagined you like this-,” kuroo chuckles. his big palms go from your waist up to your chest, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his calloused fingers hover over your tits. goosebumps dot your skin as he starts to slowly grope your chest, earning you yet another provocative moan from him when he keeps rutting into the soft flesh of your ass.
you bite down on your bottom lip, grinding down on him to stimulate your clit. it feels good, the dull blooms of pleasure doing wonders for the heat creeping all over your body. the idea of cumming untouched like this makes your head spin, and you want it more than anything else. you want your hole to become a leaking, cock-hungry mess all from dressing up in a lewd bunny costume for kuroo and from humping into each other like animals in heat. you know it’s going to make being fucked out his cock eventually feel that much better. 
“please, tetsu-,” you whine, your nails digging into his forearms. your voice is high strung and strained, whiny and girly just the way he likes it best. “wanna cum- wanna cum for you… you feel so big already… wanna take your cock inside me too…!”
“yeah? you want that too? keep talking like that, and i’ll fucking lose it for real…,” he grunts. you yelp when he bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth marking up your unmarked skin and the sudden sting has your cunt clenching up painfully. the thrums of arousal thrashing in your core are all your mind can grip onto, and the shape of kuroo’s cock straining against his pants and grinding into your swollen clit makes your whole body feel weak.
you’re glad kuroo’s enjoying this so much, that he can prop your body up the way he wants you to. he’s so strong even in the midst of this sex-induced haze, and knowing that he has nothing but this kind of insane desire for you makes you feel almost giddy. it’s nice; it’s powerful to know that you have this effect on him. 
“gonna cum for me, bunny? while you’re all dressed up and pretty in my lap?” kuroo laughs. you nod, the faux ears atop your head threatening to go askew. his hands massage at your chest, every part of your body egging him on constantly. he kisses over the bite marks he left on you, the switch between loving appreciation and starved lust telling you everything you need to know about how this whole thing with him is going to end.
it’s a no-brainer that he thinks you look absolutely ravishing in his favorite outfit, but he swears that the costume is gonna look even better when it’s all crumpled on the floor, your naked body bared all for him. you’re going to look so cute, so innocent, and so adorable bouncing in his lap as he pinches your nipples from behind, that teasing tone of his pushing you towards an unending series of orgasms. kuroo can’t wait to feel you fall apart in his arms, to feel your helpless pussy fucked out on his cock. 
“that’s my girl,” he praises you, voice hushed and sultry. “my pretty, obedient bunny. cum all you want. gonna make sure that’s all you do for the next little while…”
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mysticheathenn · 2 days
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Messages From Your Mental Prison
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is about your mental health and the state of how you view the world and everything that is going on in your life. This could be about your depression, Anxiety, or even suicidal thoughts. Read with caution as this reading may have triggers.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
MasterList
Patreon Link
TW Ahead Read With Caution
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Pile l:
Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed), 9 of Swords, 4 of Swords (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), Justice
This reminds me of the TikTok clip of the voice screaming "It's not fair. It's not fair." reminding me of how many people have probably told you that you handle stress and everyday life so well but little do they know your mental state is literally one inconvenience away from having a mental breakdown. Stress and anxiety practically camp out in your mind on a daily basis pile l. You can't seem to escape it, it's all you have known for quite a while and you're tired. There is a saying that "There is no sleep for the wicked" Well in your case "There is no sleep for the poor or those who lack the resources to pull themselves up in their life." All you want in life is enough to pay your bills and a little extra for savings and be able to do something with your life like try a new hobby without feeling guilty for spending money that isn't on "important" things like survival. You probably have been in survival mode for quite some time now and wondering when will you see a breakthrough. You're tired of being tired. You're tired of practically playing Russian roulette with your bills of which one can you not pay for this month. One thing I will say pile l is even though things may seem bleak please don't give up, I sense things will get better financially for you. Sometimes in life you just need to find your footing for things to take off.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Seek out information that will help you out, A Journey either physical or mental, unsettled times. Need to plan ahead, Announcement, Get back to the basics.
Pile l your extra message oracles make me believe that you feel lost, maybe even stuck for some of you with no clue in the world of how to better your situation or go about life. You have the get back to the basics card which sticks out to me like a sore thumb letting the game know that I sense you may be the type who always tries to do those get-rich-and-quick schemes like drop shipping or anything else you see that pops up on your social media feed and it never works out for whatever reason. You want to know why....it's because you aren't supposed to be doing that. That's not your path to riches. You have the 8 of Pentacles and 10 of Cups card but it's reversed meaning you are meant to have emotional and financial fulfillment you just need to stop and get back to the basics. What basics mystic? What is it that has been drawing or calling you in? What is something you keep putting off or not doing because you believe based on society and family it won't make you any money? For most of you, this is what you need to be doing. For others of you, you will be going on a journey where you need to find this out. Figure out what feeds your soul that you would do for free and do that but add tax. You are meant to freelance and be your own boss, not working for other people. Overall this is a journey process for you pile l. You will deal with more hard times as you figure this out but remember this journey is temporary to where you want to be, so keep pushing. An answer if it hasn't already will come to you.
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Pile ll:
Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Hermit, Page of Swords (reversed), Queen of Cups, 10 of Wands, 10 of Swords (reversed)
When was the last time you nurtured yourself or spent time alone and really tried to heal and nurture yourself with positive thoughts pile ll. It's a never-ending cycle of you constantly bombarding yourself with cruel words that aren't true. This reminds me slightly of the reading I posted titled Mystery pt. ll. But overall this feeling of yours feels more so as if the world has its weight on your shoulders and you feel as if you are a burden to those around you. You may live at home, with roommates, or feel that you constantly are asking anyone and everyone around you for help as if you can't do anything for yourself and you're tired. You're ready to be able to be independent without having to rely on others. Maybe others have made you feel bad as well for asking for help when you are down on your luck to where you just feel crushed, stuck, unable to move in a direction because one way people will make you feel bad for your predicament and the other hand you will make yourself feel bad because you feel whatever this is you should be able to do by yourself but can't because life is tough right now. As I mentioned in pile l you need to get back to the basics. Get back to the basics of life and take things one step at a time. You are doing the best you can with what you have and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Position of authority, August, Someone you know is undependable and insincere, Slowly but surely getting ahead. Pay attention to your work, Good Fortune.
As mentioned your life while it maybe chaotic at the moment everything is a journey and slowly but surely things will get better and you will get ahead eventually. With the Position of authority I am seeing this in two ways some of you should pay attention to your work as there may be a position available for you in management where you can make more money this may happen around or sometime in August. If not within the company you work maybe this is an invitation to be your own boss or look elsewhere for higher positions especially if you have more than enough qualifications. For others of you, this position of authority is letting you know that you are the boss of your own life and have complete control of what goes on and who is in it. Never let people who claim to be friends or family make you feel bad for being on hard times. They aren't who they say they are and you should move accordingly with that information. Overall Good Fortune is in your cards by the end of this rough patch. You just need to focus and hone in on ways you can do more within your life with the resources of which you have. Again this could be moving up in the company or going elsewhere, where advancement is an option.
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Pile lll:
Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Star, The Sun, Ace of Pentacles (reversed), The Fool (reversed), Awakening
Pile lll, my babies, it's time to allow yourself to be seen by the world. It's time to stop hiding in the shadows allowing life to pass you by. You can't keep yourself in the mental prison of feelings of imposter syndrome, fear of judgment, etc. Life wants to give you financial blessings, especially with the Ace of Pentacles in Reversed but you are blocking them because you aren't doing what needs to be done. This could be you starting a YouTube channel, being a content creator on social media, writing a book or screenplay/ maybe even fanfiction for some of you, others this might just be you hiding from a promotion that you deeply desire but feel you lack experience, knowledge, etc. Whatever this is for you, you have to release the thoughts that plague your mind and go for the thing that puts you in front of everyone. Yes at first you may make mistakes or look cringe or whatever the issue may be but that's how everything is when you first jump deep into something. You make mistakes and people will talk...but you want to know something life moves on and the world doesn't end. Seriously do the thing, it's time. You will beat yourself up if others take the things that you want for yourself and you want to know something you have no one to blame but yourself because you decided to not do what needs to be done. Write the book. Film yourself. Apply for better jobs even if you think you are not qualified. Have you heard of the girl who applied to jobs she had no business doing and ended up getting hired making $100k a year...that could be you right now but you are stuck listening to self-doubt and the thoughts of what others will say. Storytime: I knew that I didn't want to continue working at whatever job I was working at back in 2015 so when my friend and I figured out that employers don't check a lot of your information we applied for positions that would pay us well and you want to know something the resume I lied on got me so far in life to where I was Assistant GM of hotels at one point. All because I believed I could do what others were doing in the hotel industry even without a lick of experience. Did I mess up in the beginning, yes. Did I care...no because I was doing more good than harm so no one really questioned if I lied or not. You have to take the jump. Do the thing.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Short Journey, Back to Basics, Work achievement & success, TIME TO ACT, Someone is extremely stubborn and unwilling to change, Protected from negative forces beyond your control, Solid foundation success with effort, waiting for news package or letter, A meeting with a strange could be important.
Pile lll do you see the amount of synchronicities in your oracle reading. Spirit is coming through loud and clear that you need to get out of your stubbornness and began acting on your dreams, goals, and desires. You are protected from anything that could try and take what this is away from you. Even with a solid foundation success with effort is telling you "Hey if you do the thing you will not fail because you are protected." Now this goes without saying that you won't deal with some challenges because that's life what it is saying is you will come out on top and the journey for you won't be a long one if you just do the effort that it takes. Spirit will do the rest if you just do what needs to be done.
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Pile lV:
Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Empress, Queen of Pentacles, 5 of Swords (reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 6 of Wands
You are victorious pile lV your only problem is that you don't believe you are worth a pot to piss in a lot of the time. Even with the Empress and Queen of Pentacles card here letting me know how nurturing, giving, empathetic, and even resourceful you are you don't see any good things about yourself. You remind me of people who speak negatively about themselves not knowing that their actions speak the opposite. You can't say you don't care but your actions speak another language. You can't put yourself down but then be upset when life mirrors your thoughts. Deep down you know how amazing you are and the many great things that you can do, but for some strange reason you recently for some of you while others of you this has been going on for a while where you constantly hold yourself to such a low standard and critic everything that you do. Why is that? Where did it begin? How can you remove this person or thing that made you feel this way? For some of you, this may have been a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) that made you feel self-critical of yourself because they felt something about themselves. You must remember that when people speak unkind things to you that it's a reflection of themselves and not you. You don't have to take what others think of you and run with it as if they are true because they are not. A scene that comes to mind is when the mom in Black Swan says "What happened to my little girl?" What happened to you that made you feel and think these thoughts to yourself and how can you get back to the Empress and Queen of Pentacle energy.
Extra Messages: Manifestation Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Empowerment, Strength
How can you today give yourself the love that you deserve? Is it a DIY spa day? A trip to a therapist or talk with a trusted friend? How can you show up for yourself in ways that you haven't before that will make you see the person you are? Have the strength and courage to stand up to anyone who makes you feel any less than what and who you are. For a few of you, you may be a part of the LBGTQ+ community and others around you have made you feel different, a "freak" or whatever insecurity that you question your existence. There is a quote by Elenor Roosevelt that says "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Please don't let assholes who were raised by baboons let you lower yourself or feel anything less than amazing, beautiful, and authentically you. Regardless of how you feel about yourself find something in your life, day, or something as small as a freckle on your face that you love and keep bringing more of that energy in for you and keep your head up. This feeling is only temporary, things will get better.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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trippinsorrows · 2 days
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looking through your eyes + three
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authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.
also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.
in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past
song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
words: 9k
Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.
Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.
It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired. 
There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.
When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.
But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase. 
And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.
But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.
It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.
It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.
Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.
Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.
Solo Sikoa 
All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion. 
Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything. 
But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.
She's grateful for that.
Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.
It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.
But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all. 
She’d just….cease to exist.
And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever. 
But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.
“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”
Talk….
Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her. 
“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”
Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.
And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?
But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….
It’s not worth it. 
Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.
“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”
For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”
She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”
Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done. 
At least since the murder of their mother. 
Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”
Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth. 
The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.
“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”
Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this. 
“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”
“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.
“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”
This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.
“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.
“Did you fuck him last night?”
It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.
And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.
So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does. 
“Y–yes.”
Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”
A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?
“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”
Easier said than done. Much easier said than done. 
It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”
She’s not.
She’s far from fine. 
————
The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.
It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.
Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.
But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space. 
Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.
She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability. 
Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.
Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess. 
She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”
“Who?”
His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer. 
“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”
Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”
Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped. 
He’s pissed. 
That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.
His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?” 
Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”
“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”
Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”
Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?
He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother. 
And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s. 
“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him. 
Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her. 
Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet. 
“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”
Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”
She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”
Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”
His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”
Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”
“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.
“What time do you get off today?”
Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”
“I’ll meet you then.”
He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.” 
And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.  
Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.
Or at all.
“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”
On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”
Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”
His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”
Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”
Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”
Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”
Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”
“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”
Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial. 
Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”
“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”
“I’ve got—”
“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”
Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”
Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience. 
There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary. 
And the day isn’t even halfway over. 
He needs an outlet.
Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message. 
Roman: Come over tonight. 
As expected, her reply comes almost right away. 
Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.
Samantha: See you then.
————
Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.
Usually both.
But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline. 
Roman Reigns.
Who also happens to be her husband.
Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people. 
The reality definitely hasn’t set in.
Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.
Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.
“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”
“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”
“No.”
She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.
And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.
Solana knows her father. She knows him very well. 
Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. 
That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.
If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves. 
The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.
She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.
And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.
She can’t give him that opportunity. 
Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”
“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”
“But—”
“Move.”
Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in. 
Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.
Her stomach drops. 
Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”
Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.
“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”
It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons. 
And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.
That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors. 
“I–I—”
“Is something wrong?”
Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger. 
“Where’s the room?” 
Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.
But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.
And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest. 
So why?
But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance. 
And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.
Until he enters said room. 
Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.
For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.
It….it hits too close to him.
Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.
Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts. 
There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?
Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.
Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning. 
Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located. 
That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.
“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”
“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”
“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”
To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper. 
And that’s exactly what happens. 
In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”
Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.
He’ll just get her another one. 
Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.
And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.
—--------
The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.
17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse. 
But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.
It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”
Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.
If only he cared about her objection. 
“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.
Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.
His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight. 
It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.
“Nia.”
“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”
It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”
“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”
It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.
This isn’t one of those times though. 
He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.” 
It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go. 
She has to learn to stand up for herself.
She needs to learn how to fight back.
Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”
Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”
Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”
“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.
Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”
“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”
While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”
“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”
Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”
“I know being too rough with her won’t.”
A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome. 
Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.” 
Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.
“Do I have a choice?”
Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”
Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face. 
Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”
He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.
Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”
She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”
Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.
So, he agrees, “fine.”
“Ayo, uce!”
Jesus Christ.
Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.
The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.
“Let us catch that ride with you.”
Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”
Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”
Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.
“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.
But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.
The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing. 
When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.” 
Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.
“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”
“What limit?”
Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"
“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”
Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”
“No.”
Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”
Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”
Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”
“Hell naw!”
The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really. 
“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”
Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.
“I’ll make it quick.”
Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable. 
As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.
Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store. 
It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.
He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is. 
It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”
She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”
Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked. 
It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary. 
“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”
“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”
“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.
Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Joe when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.
So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.
And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.
It’s not.
The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.
Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.
And she probably isn’t. 
————
Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more. 
He’s ignored them everytime. 
Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.
Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.
Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.
The same reason he invited her over tonight. 
Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.
The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight. 
Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.
She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.
In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.
Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.
Way too needy.
But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.
Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.
It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.
“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”
If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…” 
She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.
“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.
For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.
Yeah….just as he expected. 
Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”
“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”
Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”
“No…..”
He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”
“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone. 
It’s a permanent scar on the soul.
“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”
There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.
Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”
His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”
“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.
Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.
He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.
This may be more complicated than he realized. 
And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?”  His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”
Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all. 
Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”
She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him. 
“What did I sa—”
“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest. 
Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.
So much for a fucking distraction.
 —----- 
Roman finds her out back on the patio. 
He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone. 
And she is. 
She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day. 
He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.
The same way they used to haunt him. 
His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about. 
Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.
So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.
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vbecker10 · 2 days
Text
Language (Part 3)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.
Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?
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"Why are you standing so close to me?" he says finally looking up to see you reading over his shoulder.
You take a large step back and giggle nervously, "Sorry. I- Umm... Did you find anything useful?"
"Possibly," he says as he gets up. He holds the open book, his eyes still glued to the aged pages. After a moment, Loki looks up and smiles, hopefully. "Are you ready to try again?"
"I think so," you nod nervously and head back to the couch with Loki close behind you.
He sits next to you, his knee touching yours but neither of you shift away from the closeness. He places the open book on the coffee table and rereads the text again, his fingers trace the words as he mumbles to himself. You put your hand on his knee without thinking and he looks up at you, causing you to remove it quickly.
"Sorry," you say quietly, not sure exactly what you are apologizing for.
"Are you ready?" he asks, sensing your nervousness.
You nod, "Mmhmm." He looks at you questioningly and you add, "Yea, I'm ready."
He smiles confidently and your worries fade swiftly. This is going to work, you think as you close your eyes, listening to Loki read in an ancient, foreign language. When he finishes, he touches your shoulder lightly and you open your eyes. "Shall we see if it worked?" he asks, closing the book.
You smile and say, "I hope this fucking spell worked." You sit quietly, excitement spreading through your body when nothing happens. You laugh happily but when you look over at Loki, your heart suddenly sinks.
"Say that again," he says, his eyes on your lips.
You repeat each word slowly, again J.A.R.V.I.S remains silent but the prince doesn't share your initial enthusiasm. He reopens the book quickly and your heart begins to race. "What's wrong?" you ask. You look down at yourself, your mind filling with dozens of terrible possible outcomes.
"Look at me," he says, touching your cheek gently. "Can you understand me?" he asks.
"Yes," you answer. "Why the hell wouldn't I-"
"I want you to nod if you still understand what I am saying," he says and you fill with dread. You nod dramatically and he says, "Okay... that's a good start." His eyes return to the book as he finds the page he is looking for, you tap his shoulder to get his attention.
"Good start? What the hell is wrong with me Loki?" you ask him.
"You know what the Allspeak does, yes?" he asks and you again nod, your confusion growing. "I have no idea what you are saying, Y/N. I cannot understand you."
"What?!" you ask in shock as you stand quickly. "How is that even possible? You can speak every fucking language in the universe and you-"
"You do not seem to be speaking any known language in the nine realms," he explains and you stare at him in disbelief. "Just try to stay calm, please," he says, he stands and reaches for your wrists to keep you from flailing your hands as you talk quickly.
"Calm? How am I supposed to be calm?" you ask him but you know he can't answer your questions. "Someone with the fucking Allspeak can't figure out what I'm-"
"I will reverse it," he promises, trying to get you to focus on him.
He sits, gently pulling you with him and he looks at the book again, his fingers tracing the words. You watch him quietly, your body filling with panic at the thought that you may never be understood again. How do these spells keep going so wrong, you wonder.
"I know you are upset," he says, touching your knee lightly, "But please just bare with me a bit longer."
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Loki closes the book and runs his fingers over the cover slowly, his head lowered as he avoids looking at you. He gets up, picking up the book. The prince sighs deeply, "I think it would be for the best if we discontinue our search for the night." You can hear the defeat in his voice and you feel equally let down by the lack of progress.
"Yeah, before you do turn me into a frog," the joke slips out before you can stop it. Loki clenches his jaw in response and turns away from you. "I'm sorry, that wasn't funny," you tell him awkwardly. "I know you're only trying to help."
He shrugs his shoulder as he puts the book on the useless book pile.
"Umm... can I ask you one more favor?" you ask, checking your watch to see that it is almost 11PM.
"If it requires magic, I suggest you refrain from asking as I'm clearly not capable of performing a successful spell tonight," Loki says, his back still to you.
You sigh, regretting your failed attempt at the barely thought through joke. "It doesn't need any magic," you tell him and he nods, turning to face you again. "I was wondering if I could... um... would it be okay if I sleep here tonight?" you ask nervously.
He looks at you, his face full of confusion, "Why would you need to do that?"
"I live like an hour and a half from here," you explain. "Case agents like me don't live in the Tower, I have an apartment in north Jersey."
"Oh," he pauses and you bite your lip, hoping you haven't pushed the boundary of the very fragile friendship you are forming with the God. "Yes, I suppose that would be fine," he agrees.
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You turn over on the couch, blinking your eyes slowly, unsure what disturbed your light sleep. Sitting up, you see Loki sitting cross legged on the floor, an open book in his lap. A dim lamp sits on top of the stack so the rest of the room remains as dark as possible while he is still able to read.
"Loki, what are you still doing up?" you ask, rubbing your eyes. You check your watch, it's been a little over an hour since you had said goodnight to each other.
"I have not been able to sleep," he says quietly. "I did not mean to wake you, I am sorry."
"I don't think you did," you tell him, now fully awake. "I don't usually sleep well in new places." You get up from the couch and walk over to him. "How come you couldn't sleep?"
"I kept thinking there was something I was missing and I think I was right," he says, a hint of hope in his voice. "I found one more spell I think we should try... if you still trust me to do so," he looks up at you.
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Loki sits next to you and you shift closer to him, looking down at the book he is holding. The symbols on the yellowed page are completely unrecognizable to you but you follow Loki's finger as he reads. "If this does not work..." his eyes met yours, "I am afraid I will be out of spells to try," he sounds disappointed.
"I still appreciate you trying so hard tonight," you tell him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. He smiles a bit and you add, "Even if you still insist you only did this because you were bored."
The God of Mischief opens his mouth slowly to respond but shakes his head as he keeps the words from being spoken. Loki clears his throat and you can practically see the walls you've been gradually breaking down between you swiftly being rebuilt. He shifts on the couch, moving way from you slightly as he focuses his attention on the book.
"This spell is older than the others we have tried and it will require something the others did not," he says without looking at you a few moments later. "It will need to be sealed, if the seal holds the spell works. If the seal breaks, the spell fails."
"Okay..." you feel nervous again, somehow needing to seal the spell makes it seem much more powerful. "How do you seal a spell?"
"Traditionally, there are two options," he flicks his wrist and a small, thin bladed dagger appears in his palm. "With a bit of blood from the person the spell is being casted upon," you shake your head no quickly and he chuckles at your reaction. "Or with a kiss between the subject of the spell and the one casting it."
"Are you fucking serious?" you ask him, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S easily as you are too surprised by Loki's options to contain your reaction.
"Yes," he says, you can tell by his expression he didn't expect you to question him.
"This isn't just your trickster way of getting me to kiss you, is it?" you ask, half joking since you truly don't know anything about spellwork.
He smirks, his playful side reappearing, "If tricking you into kissing me was my goal, I would have suggested you test your theory when you implied that I do not know how to use my hands correctly."
You cringe and laugh nervously, remembering your embarrassment when you realized he had been listening to you. "You really do want to prove me wrong, huh?" you say, trying to sound sarcastic.
He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, "I am not sure what type of answer you are looking for."
"I'm not either," you mumble. You aren't sure now is the time to wonder what Loki feels for you so you quickly push down the growing feelings you have for him. "Can we just get this over with?"
"There is always the first option," his eyes drift towards the blade still sitting on the table.
"Ooh... how could I forget? So my choices are be stabbed or kiss you," you pretend to think over your options.
"It wouldn't be a stabbing, necessarily," he chuckles. "I just need a bit of blood, a small cut on your palm will work nicely."
You sigh and shake your head, "Okay." He smiles and flicks his wrist, sending away the dagger but at the same moment you hold your hand out, palm up. "I guess I'll chose getting 'not stabbed'." He looks at you, the shock evident on his face and you can't help but laugh. "Wow, you really did want to kiss me," you say and he shakes his head.
"I will admit, kissing you did seem the more enjoyable option," he says to your surprise, "But I am also quite fond of my daggers." He smirks and the weapon reappears.
"No, no, no," you cross your arms to hide your hands, "I was kidding." He chuckles and the dagger vanishes again. "This is the weirdest first kiss I've ever negotiated," you tell him.
"I can look for a third option to seal the spell if it would make you more comfortable. I have heard of using a small bit of hair as a substitute for blood but I will need to look into it more," he stands up, and you feel a bit struck by the fact that he won't force this on you. It relaxes you to know that joking aside, he is truly allowing it to be your choice.
You reach for his wrist and he sits next to you again. "That's not necessary," you tell him.
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He smiles and nods at your choice, his mood lifted as he appears more confident. Loki looks towards the open pages and skims the first few lines before he lifts his head and says, "Don't move once I start. I will let you know when it is time to seal the spell."
You nod give him a thumbs up and he sighs so you sit completely still.
He reads the foreign words quietly, his lips barely moving. A green glow surrounds his fingers, he waves them slightly towards you. The glow flows from his fingers to your throat and you feel a slight tingling spread from your neck up to your jaw, lips and tongue. You fight to stay perfectly still, unsure of the consequences if you move before he tells you to. The glow fades and he looks down to read again.
"Okay, all that is left is to seal the spell," he says, his eyes meeting yours.
You lean towards him nervously and close your eyes at the sensation of Loki's lips ghosting over yours as if he is trying to kiss you as lightly as possible. You gasp when you feel a literal spark pass from his lips to yours, quickly you assume that is the magic that seals the spell. Thinking it is over, you pull away slowly but Loki moves towards you, pressing his lips to yours harder. His hand cups your cheek softly, his fingers grazing your skin as they slide down your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Loki's other hand moves to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt tightly. His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they travel up the back of your neck and into your hair.
Without warning, Loki drops his hand and pulls away from you, breaking the kiss and all physical contact with you. "I think that should be more than enough to seal the spell," he says in a serious tone but you can see a small smile on his skilled lips. "Care to test it out?" he asks.
You take a deep breath, afraid of what will happen if the seal breaks and the spell fails. "Fuck," you swear quietly.
The room is silent and you take Loki's hand while you wait anxiously, he squeezes your hand in response. J.A.R.V.I.S activates and charges you for violating Steve's order. Loki pulls his hand slowly free from yours and looks down in defeat. "Damnit," you sigh and the program charges you a second time in just seconds.
"I am truly sorry, Y/N," he says closing the book. He tosses it on the ground near the stack of discarded books and sits back against the cushions. "I honestly thought I had figured it out. Maybe I am useless," he covers his face with his hands.
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lcriedlastnight · 17 hours
Note
Enemies to lovers
Lando locking reader and Oscar in a room because he can’t stand them and their attitude towards each other anymore. So he decides to lock them in a room so that they can confess their true feelings for each other
this is one of the best tropes ever. tysm anon, mwah!
tw: fem!reader, swears, idk lmk if you want me to add anything else.
w/c: 1.1k
lando had had enough. this was getting ridiculous now. you have been friends with lando since before he started in f1 and he’s been friends with oscar since his rookie year, maybe not as long as the two of you but he spends almost double the time he spends with you, with oscar and doing what he loves.
you despise the way oscar thinks that he can just come along with his pretty brown eyes and steal your best friend from you. no. not happening. not today, not ever.
oscar feels the same way about you too. the way you walk around like you own the place, even though you don’t even race. it frustrates him that everyone in the mclaren garage treats you like someone important, when all you are is lando’s friend. he was jealous. he wanted that treatment from them.
lando was fed up with it, to put it bluntly. all he wanted was for the two of you to get along. two of the people he loves spending time with the most, getting along with each other for once.
the curly haired boy just wanted you to get along. one day without an argument. the last time you had been together lando has seriously thought he was going to have to hold you back from slapping him in the face. in all the years he has known you he had never, ever seen this side of you. it scared him a little.
lando had decided to go to charles for help. the papaya fireproof standing out in ferrari motor home.
“what are you doing here?” charles had asked, arms clutching his puppy, leo. the dog sleeping peacefully in his arms.
“i need help with what to do with all the fights happening in my own garage!” lando admits, frustrated with the constant fighting.
charles nods his head, agreeing to whatever lando wanted already.
“so i need your help with executing my plan.” lando smiles mischievously, charles laughing as lando explains his plan.
a week later, the plan was set in place and lando was just waiting for the right time to set it in motion. you were stood talking with lando about the upcoming race. it was charles’ job to lead oscar to lando’s drivers room and lando’s to lead you there. lando’s big wonderful idea you ask? trap you both in a room until you kiss and make up. he didn’t want to toot his own horn but it was one of the best ideas he thinks he has ever had.
“shit, come with my to my drivers room, i’ve left my phone in my room.” lando says, his head twitching in the direction of said room. you give him a blank look. “you are literally holding your phone.” you deadpan.
“just come with me please.” lando whines like a child, and it works. mostly because you couldn’t be arsed with his complaining if you said no. you follow behind slightly skeptical about what lando was up to. once you get to the room you see charles waiting outside. this confuses you more.
“hello!” charles greets you cheerily. you smile back but it is mostly confusion.
“hi. what are you doing in here?” you ask but before charles can even utter the start of an excuse lando interrupts. his hands quick to push gently on your shoulders to force you into the room.
“what are you doing?” you ask lando. you don’t notice oscar sitting on the couch when you both hear the doors lock and lando’s evil giggle.
“you guys are going to stay in there until you make up. or fight to the death. either way there will be a solution. i’ll be back in a few hours.” lando explains fingers tapping softly on the door as he leaves.
shouts of “lando! come back here!” and “you better be fucking joking!”s coming from the room. oscar gives up way before you do at trying to get the little shit to come back. you slide down the door, resting your head on your knees, still calling for lando. oscar sits back down on the couch.
“give up he’s not coming back.” oscar tells you, defeated. you roll your eyes.
“don’t tell me what to do.” you sass back. this causes silence to fall between the two of you. you are so stubborn and refuse to give in. even though lando knows you better than you know yourself and he knows it. that’s why he’s done this, he knows you really do like oscar. you had just put your walls up. plus you don’t like getting the wrong impressions about people and you had told lando the first time after you had met oscar “he’s a proper dick.” and now you think that he is not a dick and you don’t want to think that.
you two are in there for hours before oscar finally clears his throat, a signal he wants your attention. your head flitting up to meet his eyes.
“i just want you to know that i do actually like you. i was just jealous of how many people liked you when i first joined in my rookie season.” oscar explains. your frown at his words.
“people do like you oscar, you don’t have to worry about that.” you tell him, wanting him to be sure that he is liked mclaren. oscar nods his head, coming down to sit next to you, facing you. not too close but not too far either.
“i know. but that doesn't even matter to me now.” he tells you and you feel like he is about to bare his soul to you and you decide to listen, lando was right about your feelings anyway.
“it doesn’t?” you ask. “what does then?”
oscar smiles a weak smile but it has a glimmer of hope shining through it. his hands raise, fingers inching to touch you. the brown eyed boy finally gets what he wants and rests his big hands on your cheeks.
“you liking me.” oscar confesses. “i want you to like me back.” well, you were right about him baring his soul.
you give him a pretty smile as you say “okay, well maybe i like you too. but don’t tell anyone.”
oscar laughs and it’s like music to your ears. you want to play it over and over again for the rest of your life. that is when oscar leans forward and brushes his lips against yours, so light - he was teasing.
“you’ll get a proper kiss once you convince lando to let us out.” oscar murmurs against your lips. you are jumping up from you space against the door and start banging on the door.
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vaaaaaiolet · 1 day
Text
“Tell me a story, please?�� you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket. A kiss is bestowed upon on your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. “This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”
Leon keeps his best tales under lock and key, and you crack one out of him on a particularly sleepless night. He thinks you might like this one.
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f / m, fluff sprinkled in with angst and emotional hurt, insomnia, grief + mourning, leon is a sweetheart he just loves you :(, he basically tells you a fairy tale before bed
word count: 1.6k // read on ao3
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a/n: um. norman fucking rockwell, baby. if you catch the lyrics from "How to disappear", i love you. i wrote this fic like i was possessed 😭 nothing was planned
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There aren’t any waves outside your landlocked bedroom window to lull you to sleep, but there is another ocean view you can think of. You turn to the other side of your pillow, biting your lip hopefully.
“Hi, sweetheart,” the view mumbles, ocean eyes groggy and losing the fight against sleep.
You’re in luck.
“Leon,” you whisper. 
“Mm.”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Don’t know why…you’re not tired,” he yawns, his blond lashes almost fluttering closed before snapping open at your wide-eyed expression, “when you’ve been running through my mind all day.”
You cram the comforter to your chin and flip to the other side of the bed with a groan. 
Leon chuckles, giving your shoulder a sleepy shake, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 
He’s not sorry. But you relent anyway. 
“Tell me a story,” you mumble as he tucks you back in.
You brush a strand of hair across his forehead to unveil those ocean eyes again. They’re faded and tired, yes, but they’ve also seen more of the world than you could ever dream of. The only good thing to come out of Leon’s mysterious missions to the ends of the earth is the treasure trove of stories he brings back with him, like a Cave of Wonders, filled with only the best for you to unlock. You don’t know anything about the outside of that cave – he stops telling the story if you ask – and you’re not in any position to argue as the clock ticks closer to morning.
“What’s the magic word?” he nudges.
Is he really going all open sesame on you too?
“Tell me a story, please?” you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket.  
A kiss is bestowed upon on your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. 
“This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”
“One thing you have to know before I start anything though, sweetheart, is that this girl was a spitfire. Completely unreasonable. She was the type to pack a grocery cart full of ice cream she swore was on discount only to have all of it be full price and melt in the checkout line.”
(“That was one time!”)
“Never said a thing about it being you, sweetheart, shh. You’re supposed to be trying to sleep. But either way, this girl couldn’t be you because she was a princess – a real pretty one at that. Sweet, smart and kind like little girls grow up wanting to be. She lived in a castle by the sea on an island in the middle of nowhere, and here’s what I heard about her on my last mission. You’ll like this one.
“Life on that island was as peaceful as you can get in a fairy tale. She had plenty of mermaids for friends and animals to keep her company, but you can’t help getting lonely after the years start passing by. The princess was stuck there, you see.”
(“How’d she get there to begin with?”)
“Uh-uh, you’re interrupting me.” Leon teases. “Story or no story?”
(“Story, please.”)
“Magic, alright? Say she got stolen away by some evil witch like Rapunzel did and her kidnapper drowned in the sea. I don’t know. But it didn’t really matter because that island became home after a while. A beautiful home, but lonely all the same. The mermaids all returned to their castle under the sea when the moon came up and the princess wished had somebody she could sleep next to when it got cold at night. 
“She was fond of stories too, like somebody else I know, and after all those years on that island, she’d read every book in the castle and longed for someone who could tell her something new. All she ever wished for on her birthday was a friend. ‘Just for a little bit’, she’d beg.”
Leon sucks in a careful breath.
“So one night, the ocean decided to send the princess a birthday present just like she asked. A magic tide deposited a little boat on the edge of her island, and when the princess woke up the next morning and looked outside her window, she saw something – or rather, somebody – slumped inside of that boat.”
(“And inside that boat was a prince?”)
“No prince. The princess made sure of it too, brave thing that she was, walking right up to the boat and taking a good look at who was sleeping inside of it. 
“The boy inside that boat was dead to the world with cuts on his face from fighting too hard. He gave the princess a good scare ‘cause he was so asleep she thought he was actually dead. When he woke up and asked ‘Who are you?’, she nearly punched him out of fright.”
(“You were right, I think I like her.”)
Leon laughs, bright and warm.
“But this boy was a real charmer, and the princess was kind, remember?”
(“Bummer.”) 
“She didn’t go around punching people out of nowhere. Especially not the first human she’d ever seen. Her curiosity got the best of her and she took the boy to her castle, where he told her he was a mercenary from a faraway kingdom. He’d been on his way to kill a rampaging sea monster when a mysterious wind blew his boat off course and right onto the princess’ island. 
“Over breakfast, the mercenary told her stories about monsters, jungles, fire-breathing dragons, stuff she’d only ever read about. She was entranced. The more he spoke, the more the princess wanted to see for herself even though she knew she couldn’t. She had to be smart about it.”
Leon swallows. He nestles the blanket around you a little tighter, like you’d slip out of his grasp, and continues.
“The boy was battered from the beating he took from his voyage, so the princess nursed him back to health. I told you she was stubborn, right? She wouldn’t take any of the gold or jewels he tried offering her from his travels. All she asked for was a new story each day he stayed with her. He agreed.
“The first week went by in a flash. The princess borrowed magic green herbs from her mermaid friends to heal the mercenary faster. The herbs made him strong enough to move mountains if he wanted to, so he pounded a couple to the ground outside her castle just to prove he could when she asked, and with the new space, the princess made him a place to stay. Turns out she was a great businesswoman; the boy spun tale after tale for her while she fixed a loneliness deep in his bones. Everything was perfect.”
(“Aww…”) 
“The boy stayed longer than he thought he would. His boat collected dust as that week turned into months. Those months grew into a year. The princess’ birthday rolled around again.”
(“Did they fall in love?”)
“They did, sweetheart.”
Leon chuckles softly.
“He ended up loving her a lot, and the princess loved him too, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not usually how it goes in fairy tales, is it? There’s a catch.”
You reach for Leon’s hand in the deep of the comforter, not remembering when he let go.
“Good sailors know not to mess with the ocean. It wasn’t too pleased with the princess keeping the boy to herself for more than just a little bit, not when he needed to get rid of that sea monster that had been killing millions of innocent people. So on the night of the princess’ birthday, the sea asked the boy to go back to being a mercenary. He needed to do his job and the princess wasn’t part of it.”
(“Tell me he stayed, Leon.”)
“Princess, I can’t-”
(“Make him stay.”)
And for the first time, Leon stutters because he never changes the story.
“A-Alright, so the boy stays. He tells the sea that he fell in love and can’t bear to leave the princess behind.”
(“And then?”)
“And then…and then he finds out he’s in over his head. The tide comes and goes, everything has to have a balance. He needed to go because he had to protect all those people, and he couldn’t do that by staying with the princess no matter how much he loved her, right?”
Lifting the blanket aside, Leon falls onto his back. You watch the ceiling fan blades spin in the dull sea-blue of his eyes. 
“The princess asked him to stay and he couldn’t say no to her. She meant well. She didn’t…she didn’t know. And they were happy together on that island until the boy’s decision caught up with him. The sea monster he was supposed to kill found their island one day, sweetheart.”
(“...Leon, no. That’s not supposed to happen.”)
“It’s how the story goes,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours.
You barely feel it; you taste saltwater in his kiss, feel it running down your face.
“But you changed it!” You’re crying, can’t find his hand. Where’d he go? He’s supposed to be here, you changed the stupid story, you have to make him stay. 
The ocean might not be outside your window, but you still see it behind glass as you prop yourself up on your elbows, heaving for breath only to find Leon’s framed picture sitting beside your pillow.
His eyes are so blue. Ghostly in the dark. 
You must have dropped it when sleep took you under. Your earbuds are still hooked up to a podcast in an earlier effort to bore yourself to sleep, but you don’t really want to hear about relaxing Zen gardens right now. Tugging everything out of your ears, your shaking finger opens the notes app. 
Right now, you’re in the mood for a story. A story with a happy ending where no one goes anywhere.
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psst, find more of my work here!
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!
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okay okay okay, hear me out:
simon has been living with the Prices’ for a while now , he’s still getting used to it but also, he’s kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop.
one night {enter sibling bar here} and Price/Nik are having a discussion and Price/Nik is like “hey kiddo, did you do that thing for me that’s like really really important?” And the sibling is like “oh crap, no I’m sorry I forgot!” And like you can see it on Price/Nik’s face that like yeah, it’s annoying but they will get over it, it was a mistake, but all Simon can see is red danger and when Price/Nik goes to lay a hand on siblings shoulder and reassure them it’s okay, Simon jumps into action and goes to protect their Simon, yelling to please not hit them ! Just trying to be a good brother :(((
thoughts???
(also please tell me if I bug you with these! I’ll stop if I’m annoying you!)
You aren't annoying me at all! I genuinely get so excited every time you send me asks like this, because I desperately love when people talk to me about my special interests.
This idea is just so RAAAAAAAAHHH!!! It's amazing and also fucking heartbreaking :,(
Which is why I wanted to make it into a short blurb! Maybe I'll add this as a oneshot or a future chapter!
Simon had been living with the Prices for three months now, and things had been going pretty well. There were still a couple bumps now and again, and plenty of adjusting still to do, but it was a hell of a lot better than living in the group home. One of his favorite things about leaving the home was the discovery of video games. Of course, he'd known what video games were, but he'd never played one before. When his siblings heard this, they were scandalized, and immediately made it their mission to introduce him to as many games as possible. It had been during one of their days dedicated to video games that Simon had found his obsession with Mario Cart.
And that was how he found himself where he was now: sitting in the living room, kicking Alex's ass in Mario Cart. He was so fixated on staying in the lead that he barely noticed that John had gotten back from running errands.
"Alex, can you come here?"
Now that caught Simon's attention. He would die before he ever admitted that he was pouting when the game was paused, but could you really blame him if he had been? They only had one more lap left.
He was content to wallow in self-pity until Alex came back, but since that didn't sound very entertaining, he decided eavesdropping was the next best thing.
"Did you need something, Dad?" Alex had made his way over to where John was crouched in the hall closet, rummaging around as if looking for something.
"Do you know where your spare prosthetic went? It's not in its usual spot."
A look of contemplation crossed Alex's face, and was just as quickly replaced with a terrified look of realization. Without saying anything, he dashed off in the direction of the back garden. He returned after just a moment with the aforementioned prosthetic leg.
Simon felt some second-had relief that the leg had been found, but his stomach dropped when he realized that it was covered in mud and rust from being left out overnight. He knew for a fact that it had been left outside, because he remembered seeing Alex leave it out there two days ago. Simon, Gaz, and Alex had been playing a game of footie, and Alex's leg had gotten covered in mud because of all the rain they'd been having. He left it leaning against the side of the house, saying he would clean it later, but he must've forgotten.
After Alex got done telling the same story, John sighed and ran a hand down his face. Most people would've been able to tell that the man was disappointed, maybe a little annoyed. But to Simon, he looked mad.
"I really am sorry, Dad. You told me to bring it inside, and I forgot." Alex was clearly upset about his mistake, but his younger brother was quickly becoming terrified.
The Prices had been nothing if not kind to each and every one of their children, but this was a big mistake. And Simon knew what happened when you made big mistakes.
John let out another sigh, and slowly raised his hand towards his eldest son. Simon's breath caught in his throat, and all he could see was a little boy with blond hair and tear-stained cheeks, cowering before a man with a raised fist.
He had to save him. He had to save his brother.
Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, Simon was off the couch and rushing to get in between the pair standing by the closet.
"Please, please, don't hit him!!! He didn't mean to!! Don't hit him dad, ple-ease!!" He was full on sobbing by now, his arms thrown out wide to shield Alex and his chest heaving so much it looked painful.
Whereas the two older Prices had looked upset before, they now wore twin expressions of horror. John knew he had probably done a poor job at hiding his annoyance upon seeing the ruined leg, but had it really looked like he was going to hit his son??? Just the thought made his stomach churn. But he realized quickly that this nauseous feeling would have to wait, because Simon was beginning to hyperventilate in front of him.
"Simon, lad, listen to me. You need to breathe. Just breathe with me."
"N-No!!! I-I won't let you hurt my brother!!! Not ever again!!!"
His poor boy.
"I'm not going to hurt him, Si. I would never lay a hand on you or any of your siblings. I'm not like that other man, Simon." There was the slightest spark of recognition in the boy's eyes, so he kept going.
"I was just going to touch Alex's shoulder, lad. I promise I'm not mad at anyone. I was a little sad, a little frustrated, but never mad. It's safe here, I swear."
"Dad would never hurt me, bub. I trust him." Simon whipped around to look at Alex, and, seeing how genuine he being, collapsed into his older brother's arms.
"You're gonna be alright, Simon. It might take a while, but everything's going to be alright."
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codename-adler · 3 days
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Oohhh a French speaking AFTG fan!
Can I ask what’s the general opinion on the Marseille accent? What do Canadians think of it? Is it fancy? Or rough?
ouhh what a question anon! i'm tagging @givemethedamnflowers so she can help me out too if u want to <3
also i don't speak for all Franco Canadians / Québécois. fiy. ya know.
as a Québécoise first and foremost (Canadian comes 2nd in how i view my identity), and as someone WHO HAS A MOREAU FROM MARSEILLES in my close family, i love the accent. to me it's somehow much less grating than the Parisian accent (not the international French accent, that one's ok) despite being much more pronounced and how do you say... quirky? not weird, but like it's definitely peculiar. special! i like it a lot. it also makes me love Jean Moreau even more because it adds character, an edge, another area of fondness. i personally think it's very easy to spot, but contrary to the north of France, it's easier to understand.
i would say the most northern accents are much rougher, more difficult to understand than Marseilles or Paris, also because of the disparity in colloquialisms and regional expressions. but i do love them so. Bourgogne?? Normandie?? oh how lovely. and then down down down down south, neighbor to Marseilles, l'Occitanie (a fave)!!! oh and la Corse!!! so so beautiful to me. music to my ears. maybe bc, as Québécoise, like i said, i feel a little kinship with those regions' accents, bc the Paris/Île-de-France spit upon our accents as shitty, ridiculous, "not real French" or generally make fun of us, like we're somehow less smart bc of the way we pronounce things and speak with our accent. in my experience! and trust me, i've had a lottttttt of 'em. so the little scene where Jean keeps being annoyed by Thea calling him 'Paris' when he's from Marseilles? ACCURATE & GOLDEN! made me smile.
that being said, as it has been discussed many many times in the fandom, characters like Neil, Kevin and Jean, and even Andrew and Nicky, have such wild backgrounds, with how much they move around geographically + their mixed heritage, that all of them must have unique accents you can't really pin down. Jean left Marseilles at 14, was homeschooled, then forced to learn Japanese then English, in West Virginia, from native Japanese speakers. he doesn't have the Marseilles slang, the refs; his French is stuck at that level and it can't progress, and he also probably loses a lot of it, breaking down over time. finding his words must be a a nightmare. imagine trying to translate a word that isn't even considered French nor translatable outside of Marseilles' region!!! also, how old were his parents? what generation of slang has he picked up by default? or was he, sadly, taught international French?
SO MANY QUESTIONS! UGH! aftg & languages, French specifically, give me a headache (and heartache) every time.
i would say, watch films and series! please! from every part of the Francophonie around the world! Belgium, Louisiana Cajun, Acadia, Québec, Marseilles, Niger... it's a beautiful language, despite his devastating shameful hand in colonization and racism. the way the people forced to learn and speak it to survive have all found ways to make it theirs in infinite ways that help the language evolve and become richer. French is as much theirs now, if not more. French is much more that than the Republic. French is not Paris.
thank you again anon for allowing me to go off on a tangent, and apologies if there are any mistakes, misinformation or harmful things. please let me know kindly and i'll own to it and correct anything that needs correcting!
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not-5-rats · 2 days
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This is gonna sound awful but I kinda hope somebody dies in Episode 9 (Gator Boys), ((this is focused more on Bodie, Timmy, Marco and Bug dying though))
IK IK, 'how could you say that!?!?' 'that would be heartbreaking :((((' THATS THE POINT!!!! THINK ABT IT! Think about how sad it would be, each of them for their own reasons
☆---------------☆
Bodie, Timmy, Lora and Rolden have a reason in common, they've all recently been reunited with their family in some way (even if Lora wasn't super pleased to see Timmy-). Sure Timmy and Bodie had found family, they had each other, but something about knowing some of their family was alive must have been such a sweet feelings (despite the circumstances). Now imagine if as soon as they got that family back it was taken away again. You finally found your family, some of which you thought were dead, you were getting to reknow those you lost, finally feeling like you have people you belong with..then you die. You loose it all.
☆---------------☆
Now let's focus on Bodie for a minute. Bodie, the first character we met in this series, the one that knew we were a Hunter yet risked his life to aid us, allowed us into his home, took care of us...oh where would we be without Bodie? If he died, the despair that would cause. He's a carer, the only thing he wants to do is help. Even when it would be beneficial to leave someone behind, he reufses. Such a kind soul, killed because he wanted to help those that mattered to him. It would be devastating, and the guilt that followed oh my.
Timmy spent so much of his time with Bodie, the two saw each other most days! Now they wouldn't spend another minute together. No more fishing, no more hanging out in the tree house, no more talking whilst Bodie made gumbo. They would never spend time together ever again. He would feel guilty because he was the one that got captured, he was the reason Bodie was there to begin with! If he had been more careful none of this would have happened...Bodie would still be here.
Obviously Rolden would also have some guilt, he'd feel bad for adding to the workload. Since they found him and felt they had to free him too, that would have made it harder for them to get out which could have caused Bodies death. Add that to the fact he just lost his brother for a second time and we can see Rolden would be having a pretty shit time.
☆---------------☆
We'll get back to Marco/Bug and their guilt later :3 for now let's discuss Timmy. Such a bright, adventurous youth, his whole life ahead of him. So much for him to do, he has so much potential, so much he could achieve...he could have done so much. Now he's gone. He won't achieve anything now. He had finally found out the truth, found out what he was, why he was different...but turns out it didn't matter. He didn't live long enough to fully appreciate this information.
Lore and Roldan would be crushed, they had worked so hard to get him out of here the first time then he was dragged back and killed. Tbh they would probably partially blame Bug for what happened, for their sons death, they were part of the reason he was brought back here, they undid all their hard work, all that work to keep their son safe undone by some Hunter...but as I said we'll talk about Bugs guilt later
The guilt wouldn't only affect Bug though think how Bodie would feel. He and Timmy had known each other for so long, they had such a brotherly bond (even if it turns out they were uncle & nephew), they were family...and family is meant to protect one another, yet Bodie failed to do that. He had tried to, but he failed nonetheless. He had lost his family...sure he had Rolden and Marco, but given the fact he was just reunited with Rolden and that Marco was away so much, Timmy was the closest family member he had. Now he was gone, forever.
☆---------------☆
(If someone else died/ his guilt)
Marco, a traveller, an explorer, a venturer. He already felt guilt, before all this mess, he already felt guilty for being away so much. He was never there, Bodie and Timmy barely ever saw him. He tried to visit them whenever he could, but there was so much he had to do, so many places he had to be. Yet even though be was barely around they still cared about him, they still saw him as family, just family they never really saw...and now they will never see him again.
He would feel awful, knowing that he should have spent more time with them when he could, he shoulde have done more then and he should have done more now. More to get them out of here, more to stop them from ending up here in the first place, more to stop them from dying. He could have done more, he should have done more. Now they were dead and be couldn't do anything to save them
(Now if he was dead)
He never stayed still, Marco was always going somewhere. Where he went? Half of the time nobody but Marco knew. He simply wasn't at the swamps. Now he would never visit the swamps again, he wouldn't go anywhere anymore. He was finally going to stay in one place...that place just happened to be 6ft underground.
Timmy couldn't believe what had happened, he couldn't believe that his carelessness had ended up causing his friends death. Sure they didnt see each other much, but he still meant alot to him, they were family! And now Marco was dead because Timmy was captured, he was captured and Marco felt a need to help get him (& everyone else) out. If he had just been more careful! If he had seen the trap, Marco would still be alive.
Timmy wasn't the only one that blamed himself, Bodie shared his grief. He worried about Marco when he was away, he never knew where he went to or when he would be back, he never knew if he was safe. He worried because he cared, he may not be around much but he still mattered, he was still family. Now he's dead. Bodie would feel guilty, mostly for the same reasons listed for if Timmy died. He was meant to protect people, to help those who needed it. But he hadn't helped, he failed to help his friend when he really needed him. Now he had to face the consequences of his 'negligence'.
☆---------------☆
(if someone else died/ their guilt)
No matter who dies, it's Bugs fault. The boys wouldn't have been there if Bug had stayed away to begin with and Rolden/ Lora are only involved in this because Bug had failed to stop the Hunters from taking Timmy. Even if they died it was their own fault, they had made a plan and that plan failed. They messed up. So no matter what happened, it was Bugs fault.
I don't think they could live with themself if they were the reason for any of the boys dying, especially Bodie. He had taken care of them, they were planning on hunting him down and he still helped them. Bodie originally planned om going to save Timmy on his own, but Bug insisted on tagging along...now he was dead, why couldn't they just back off, they had caused enough damage then, they've caused so much more damage now. Timmy and Marco, even if they didn't know of their past, welcomed a human into their lives. They didn't try to hurt then or shove them away even though it would have been fair to do so. They accepted Bug and now they were dead...how could Bug let this happen
To put it simply...if one of the boys didn't make it out of the arena, Bug would probably choose not to make it out alive either.
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juniperdugong · 9 hours
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Perfection Pt.2; Alive
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Pairing: mortician!mingyu x corpse!fem!reader
Genre: Mortician!au, Horror!au || Fluff, Crack, Romance, Angst
Warnings: Reader wears feminine clothing || Mentions of death and corpses (Nothing in-depth and nothing intended to disturb) || Mentions of suicide || Necro-romance, aka romantic attraction to a corpse. || Nudity || {Please let me know if there are other warnings you would like me to add}
WC: 4.7k
Songs that inspired this fic
A/N: This one was a doozy for me to write and by far the longest part in a fic I have ever made (even b4 this account lol) but I hope you like it! Please comment, like, and reblog if you do! Seriously, it encourages me so much to hear what you guys think. My biggest hope in posting this part is that it'll make me feel more confident in my writing since I've been in a slump ;-; Anyways my loves have a good weekend!! The taglist for this series is open and my requests are open as well!!
Teaser | Pt.1 | Pt.2
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A harsh slap to the face. Or rather, the cold smack of a linoleum floor. Your welcome greeting back into the world of the living. Your hands go to grasp anything they can hold onto on instinct but you find your muscles still tight and rigid. Processing such overstimulation is a task that not many would survive and even you at this moment are still reeling from the effects of, what was essentially, a lightning bolt shot into you. Too possessed by confusion to notice as strong but gentle hands grasp your shoulders guiding you to sit on the table you once laid.
"I've got you…" a firm and quiet voice attempts to assure.
Mingyu meets you with a stack of clothing, putting it down next to you. "Sorry, I was going to dress you before you woke up but I didn't want them to burn…nor did I think it would work at all." he says the second part in a hushed tone leaving you unsure if you should have heard it all.
You attempt to speak but your mouth feels sewn shut; Within a second of noticing your discomfort, he's at your side with an urgency that rivals EMS. Bringing his hands to your jaw, his expression grows serious as he gently relieves the pressure with a couple sways. His concentration makes your heart jump. He's so close and you can tell he takes this seriously; He takes you seriously. "Better?" he looks at you with concern.
"B-better." your mouth feels dry like it's filled with sand and gravel.
His face lights up as you speak. He stutters as he attempts to talk but resolves to holding your face in the palm of both his hands, holding you like a precious jewel. "It's worked…" It looks like he might just tear up but before anything threatens to spill he is picking up the stack of clothes once again and placing them in your lap. "You should get dressed, I didn't mean to have you indecent for this long."
He leads you to a corner of the room and grabs a foldable partition to cover you, even though he's already examined your body before. You can practically feel his excitement as multiple content sighs come from him from beyond the screen, the patter of his feet telling you that he's cleaning up all the things he had set in place before.
Once you're finished dressing yourself in…very fanciful(?) dress (what was meant to be put on you for your funeral viewing) you move the partition to find Mingyu standing underneath the skylight gazing at the night like a god. "Thank you," he whispers to it before you grab his attention.
"Ready?" he starts. "For?" "Right, I haven't told you anything yet. Forgive me." He leads you to sit on the rolling stool. "I have woken you because…" he sees the way you look up at him with doe-like eyes and anticipation, it makes him falter for a second before continuing. "…because I want to find love and well I was compelled by something unknown to me to believe that I might find that in you. I'm sorry for doing this without your permission, I didn't exactly have the means to ask." he doesn't meet your eyes when he says this. "But, if you don't want this, I won't force you. I've given you a second chance, I don't intend for you to be in my debt for it, however."
The way he speaks is so proper and refined compared to how you remember boys in life. His eyes barely meet yours as he waits for a response. Fearing the worst he begins to speak,
"You-" "I agree." your words strike him like arrows and poison his face with confusion. You continue, "I am not in your debt, I didn't ask for this umm-" he can sense you're searching for something. "Mingyu." he sees your discomfort in speaking and brings a bottle of water to hold before you. Waiting for you to finish. "-Mingyu. But since you've given me this chance." your memory flickers to the feelings of wanting someone, of loving someone, that you had before your death. "Why wouldn't I at least give it a try?" He looks up at you in astonishment but bites his tongue waiting for you to give more details. You take a sip of the water he's brought and it soothes your throat enough. "I think love is also something that I wanted in life but was never able to find. I don't remember feeling loved I mean. And I don't know if this will work out the way you imagine, I expect many complications because I can't hold out hope for the life of me. But that does not mean I can't try to fall in love…with you." for the first time he lets you hold his gaze. "Okay." Several seconds pass in silence as you both absorb everything. "What now?" "I had a plan…if you would like to go along with it." "Tell me-" "Of course!"
He goes on to tell you about what he had imagined. About taking you to either a shop to get more appropriate clothes, more comfortable ones; Or to his house to relax after something so-chaotic. In either case, he would defer to your wants and needs. He made sure that you knew that he was at your beck and call if you wanted him to be.
Without much deliberation you agree to go back to his home; It being far too late to consider if this is inappropriate, you were past that point the moment your lifeless eyes met his loving gaze.
Now you're in the front seat of his car, a silent drive, not even filled with music. You remember what it is to feel nervous now. The sweaty palms, the glances, the fidgeting, all of it comes back to you in this moment and you think What if this is wrong. Not once since you've been reanimated have you reflected on your choices or his but this silence gives you time to deliberate, albeit briefly.
You know how weird this all is, you've made peace with that. But the matter of love…that is your concern. To promise someone to try and fall in love with them? You barely know him. Although he is as handsome as it gets and obviously infatuated with you, you can't say that love can grow out of something as small as physical attraction. You've always thought of love as something much greater, maybe that is your failing but it is your opinion nonetheless. And now this conundrum has you-
Before you can finish your thoughts the door is opening and Mingyu is outstretching his hand to help you out. He leads you up to his home. A nice 2 story house, quite rare for a single man you think but you don't know how much money comes from the mortuary business. He fumbles with the keys before finally opening the door. Instantly, you are met with the same warm and inviting feeling you found when you first "met" Mingyu.
You would half expect that someone as clean and careful in the preparation room as Mingyu might live oppositely in his personal life but you are pleasantly surprised as the home you are in is as spic and span as can be. Cozy and clean. You're almost in wonderment at it but seeing how Mingyu comes in with ease and knowing makes you relax into the space as well. There is comfort in knowing that this home is his because he, himself, is comfortable to you. You don't know why that is but there is a sense of familiarity with Mingyu, maybe it's the same sort of feeling he felt when he looked at you for the first time.
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He brings you in and sits you down in the living room. The lights cast an orange glow over everything that brings a great deal of warmth, something your body lacks. He doesn't so much as speak and it leaves you to think. Being left alone with your thoughts is nothing new but you have so much more to think about now with this situation.
Mingyu busies himself in the kitchen that overlooks where you sit. Your back is turned to him so you don't notice how he stares at you, your every movement making him restless; It's as though he's waiting for you to approach him, to call for him. But you don't, too wracked by everything to move so much as an inch from where he left you.
He returns with some ramen for the both of you. Setting it on the coffee table and motioning for you to join him on the floor. You have a hard time sitting down and once again he's practically jumping up to help you. Even still his gaze is beyond you, looking far past and never truly meeting yours.
"I should've told you that you can turn the TV on, I'm sorry…"
"Please don't."
"Don't? What?"
"You keep apologizing. You apologized for bringing me back, you apologized for not having me dressed. You don't need to apologize for even smaller things than that, Mingyu." You take hold of his hand as you say the last sentence and turn your attention to the ramen. "Thank you for this."
"Of course. I'm sor-" You give him a look and a smirk before he continues. Giggles are exchanged and you both turn attention to the TV for a time before stealing glances back and forth at each other, much more focused on being next to each other than what the game show host is rambling on about.
Dinner finishes and Mingyu takes both your dishes back to the kitchen. He returns quickly and shows you to the bathroom, "You can wash up. I've left some towels and clothes for you to change into on the sink. I hope they fit. But please…take your time. Enjoy your bath.". His eyes plead with you like he isn't simply wishing for you to have a good bath but instead, he is asking you to do so. He leaves you to your business.
You relish the feeling of a warm bath drawn. It brings you to life a second time or it is what truly makes you come to life. Your skin reacts to the warmth and color crawls back onto you. The pinkish tones cover you and you notice how the gray disappears in place of it.
You're once again alone with your thoughts and it allows you to think about everything, every moment that you can remember since awakening. The morgue, the journey in the car to the mortuary, meeting Mingyu, and then formally meeting him. It oddly makes you feel a bit empty. You don't know how to feel. It's all so surreal and you have to wonder if this is simply the afterlife, a mirage painted by god to make you believe. But he keeps bringing you back to the present.
Mingyu. Sure his looks might make you think he is an angel of some kind but his heart is human, maybe the most human amongst everyone you knew in life. His gestures and words and well…his life just feels like he is someone. He is tangible and real. He grounds you. In the same way you might've wanted to in life. You feel as though he will call you back home if you were away too long. And it's strange but it's fantastic and it makes you feel something, he makes you feel here. You do not wander in his presence and that empty feeling fades when he is near.
And just when you are finding comfort in Mingyu and contextualizing it you finish your bath and put on the clothes he's prepared for you. Some shorts and a tank top. Plain in their colors but it does strike you as odd. Why did he have women's clothes if he was single? You hate to doubt him so early on, a mere hours after meeting. But it does make you wonder, the thought draws you out of your body, and doubt surfaces along with anxiety. You hate yourself for it honestly. Because you barely know him and yet you feel so deeply about some made-up mistrust. You can't stand it and before you take a second longer to think about it, Mingyu does as he has since you woke up. He brings you back down to earth.
A loud knock at the door, "Sorry-shit, I mean I'm sorry for-Never mind." His voice instantly brings a smile to your face and any meandering thoughts you have float away, you giggle at his stuttering. "I hope you enjoyed your bath- I mean if you're still in there I don't mind but I just wanted to let you know that I'll be waiting in the living room…if you want to talk a bit before bed." He endears you so completely and as he perks up to speak again you are opening the door.
You're met with a hushed "Ah" as you see him. The smile on your face is contagious, catching on him and allowing you to see his shining fangs that make him resemble a puppy. His hair is wet and you suppose in the time that you've been bathing he's had the time to take a shower and change. He's wearing loose pajama pants and a white t-shirt that, because of the light, shows off his muscular figure. You are captivated and he follows your eyes chuckling, "Umm the living room?" you nod and he takes your hand in his as if it is the most natural thing in the world, leading you back to the couch downstairs.
You both relax into a comfortable silence. A sigh comes from you which he follows and you both are snickering at the gestures. How beyond ridiculous this day has been and yet also so perfect. There is so much to say and so little words to convey the feelings and thoughts you have. But who could blame you? It isn't like this situation is any more simple than a normal relationship or friendship. All the more complicated by the condition of your body and soul. After all, a corpse - it is infeasible, by regular means, for something like this to happen.
"So-" "So." in succession you both speak earning mild laughter from each other. "You wanted to talk about…" you begin with the obvious. "Right, I just wanted to talk. Gives us some time to get to know one another. But, even now I can't seem to find the words..." "I can't either. I mean- I just don't know what to say or talk about." "That's okay. We can start with something simple." "Like?" "Like…a game of 21 questions?" you have to scoff at the idea simply because it's so…normal. In all this mess of things that have been peculiar and weird, Mingyu is asking for something normal. "Okay, you first then. Since it's you're idea." It takes him a while and you let it happen, feeling no need to fill the space with idle conversation. "You're favorite color?" It takes you by surprise just how simple his question is and even still you are unable to answer with certainty, "Hmm I don't know. What's yours?" "Mine? I asked you the question…" he smirks. "I know but I don't think I have one-" "C'mon, you don't remember having one or you don't think you ever did?" "I don't know. Maybe I never did…" you ponder for a moment, you really don't remember much about your life other than the feelings. He's a bit baffled by the revelation but he doesn't want to bombard you too early so he concedes to your answer. "I guess, we'll just have to find you a favorite color then! Right, your turn."
Now you take a moment to think. "What about me-" you gesture up and down on your body, "caught your eye first?" There is a smile on his lips, "Honestly…it was your lips. Most people I see in my prep room come in with cracked and dried lips but you came in and I don't know, it was different. Your lips looked like you could wake up at any moment and-" he stops himself from saying too much, his mind in battle with something as strange as an attraction to your body, "You looked alive and yet you weren't, it captivated me." he says to you earnestly. You didn't know how to respond to such honesty. So you just let it be, allowing the muffled noise of crickets and the rustling of leaves to fill the awkwardness. "My turn again. Hmm, since we're jumping into the fray, what do you think of me?" You look at him confused, "What do you mean?" "I mean, I've brought you back to life, you're in my home, and we've talked about things that I've never talked to anyone about. So, what do you think of me? Of this?" he motions towards everything in the room so you can assume he means the situation. "I can't really say. I mean I accepted your proposal but it's not like I had many other options, y'know?" "Right." "I can say that this is new for me though. Attempting something like this, I don't think I ever did it in life." "You never fell in love?" "I don't think so…I don't remember those feelings." Gloom overcomes Mingyu as he hears this. "But! I think that just means that I have all the more to gain from this experience, right?" you try to assure him. "Right…" he's still mulling over what you said but gathers himself, "Your turn" "Okay- well, let's get back to a lighter note, what's your favorite song right now?"
You guys go back and forth for a while exchanging different likes and dislikes. The room is now more cozy with the familiarity growing even more between you. It's down to the last 4 questions now, Mingyu hums with anticipation as you search your mind for something to ask.
"Ah! I got it! This is something I've been thinking about but I didn't know if I should ask you about it. If we're taking things seriously then I don't want things to start off with any regrets or things unsaid so I'll ask anyway." "Okay, shoot." "Where exactly did you get these clothes?" your hands wave over the pajamas he gave you. "Oh, those are my younger sisters. She left them here during her last visit." you visibly relax at the answer and he notices. Being a bit bold he reaches out to place his hand on yours, "Hey, I know we just met but I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, certainly not give you the clothes of some other person." You take him for his word and grasp his hand in yours, allowing your fingers to intertwine. The ease of the action doesn't seem to affect either of you, it's like your hands were made to be together. "Your turn, Mingyu." "Hm hm hm…I was gonna ask you this anyway but since I can't come up with a good question I'll ask it now; Where do you want to sleep?" your puzzled expression spurs more of an explanation out of him, "I don't know where you're most comfortable so it's really up to you. The couch is comfortable but it's lonely down here. I have a guest room I can set up for you, when my sister visits that's where she sleeps. Or I can give you my bed for the night, don't worry about me I can sleep almost anywhere so it's no big deal, more comfortable than the guest bed though in my opinion." You digest all your choices, "The guest room works. Any bed is better than a body bag-" you joke earning a smile from Mingyu and a squeeze of your hand in recognition. "Done, I'll get that ready for you once we finish the game." "The next question I have is a bit of a serious one…" your tone makes him sit up straight.
"What happens to me?" "What?" "I mean, I'm dead according to official records and you were supposed to prepare my body for a viewing. What happens to me now that I'm back? What happens to my viewing? To the people who might go to that?" "I don't- I don't know." now he's as concerned as you are, making it evident that he didn't think this far ahead. "You were scheduled for a quick viewing, nothing fancy. And we have until next week to figure stuff out-" Mingyu begins racking his brain until an idea hits him. "I- We can say that you asked to be cremated. You left it in your…note." Both of you sour at the mention of your suicide note. "Right but doesn't the coroner have that? Haven't they read it by now?" "Yes, I mean it's a big part of determining your cause of death. But if we can go in there-" "Mingyu. You are not suggesting…" "I am. If we can get into the morgue and find your belongings, all we'd have to do is swap out a sheet of paper." The fact that this is on the table at all is blowing your mind. It's so incredibly risky. Maybe even more risky than just saying he lost your body. But if it works it certainly would clean up your issue quite well. No one would question the wants of a dead person, would they? Mingyu waits expectantly for your approval and after a minute you give it to him. "Okay." "Okay?" "Okay, we can try this but…" you look at him, both of your hands now holding his as he stares back at you with his big brown eyes whose effect is akin to a siren song. "-but we have to plan this out carefully. The morgue is the one place where people might recognize me easily since, y'know, they've seen my dead body." you try to drill seriousness into your words. "Yeah yeah of course! We can plan it out as carefully as you want, y/n."
The day has been long and although the conversation is lively enough to keep you both going Mingyu recognizes that rest should come sooner rather than later. "-But I think we should reserve that for tomorrow. I need to start getting your room together." He begins to get up before you're grabbing at his wrist. This man has been waiting for you to call for him; To reach for him, you've got him sitting back down in an instant as all his attention focuses on you.
"You have the last question, Mingyu." "Oh- Oh I- Umm." your touch lingers on him like some sort of spell meant to leave him in delirium. "It's okay, we don't have to finish the game-" "Ahh no no no, we can finish it, it's just one question…should be super simple to come up with one question." he contemplates for a while before speaking up again, whatever's come to mind making him blush wildly. "You can say no to this!" Great start Kim Mingyu, "I know we just met and this is a very sudden request; And I want you to know that you can refuse it if you don't feel comfortable. But since we've talked about the nature of what this is-" he motions towards the both of you, "-Do you think it would be too soon to ask for a kiss?"
Your mind goes blank. A kiss? Now? Unsure of what to say or how to react you just look at him with a stunned expression. Mingyu takes your apprehension as a "Not right now", not wanting to push you any further than you're comfortable with. He moves to cup your cheek, "It's okay, it's too soon, I know. I'll go get your room ready.", with that he's up and walking up the stairs.
You're still in shock from the question. Out of everything he could've asked and everything that he has asked this is the question that stumps you. Your mind is working overtime to process it. A kiss. Is that what you wanted? He was right, it is too soon. But eventually, would you get to a point where you're ready for that step? The thought runs rampant in your mind and you find yourself imagining what a kiss with Mingyu might be like, while also slightly scrutinizing yourself for missing the chance of finding out.
Lost in your imagination you come back to reality as Mingyu is coming back downstairs. "It's ready." You follow him to the guest room; It's just a few feet away from his room and as he ushers you inside he lets you know that if you need anything at all he's a few steps away.
The room is as clean as the rest of the house and you find yourself wandering around it in search of more pieces of Mingyu's life. A vanity holds some skincare products that are lightly used, Mingyu's sisters you think. Tucked between the mirror and the wood frame that holds it are a few childhood photos of the 2 of them. You can't help but smile as you picture them playing. The dresser holds other clothes, some of them you can discern are his sisters but others seem to be men's clothing. The closet doesn't reveal much other than spare towels and blankets.
You retire to the bed after your snooping and it doesn't take long for dreams to seep into your mind.
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The dreams you have come to you more like visions. Recollections of the day spinning off into "what ifs-". What if you hadn't accepted Mingyu's proposal? Where would you be now, what would you be doing? If he hadn't woken you up at all? Would your soul be trapped in your body forever reaching for an afterlife and never finding one? And what if you had kissed him tonight? Would you still be here, sleeping alone in this empty room? Or would the night have somehow veered in a direction where he and you would be sleeping side by side? The night leaves you to meditate on the endless stream of questions and before long the sun rises.
Peaks of sunlight linger in the empty room but it isn't what wakes you. It's the loud footsteps that go up and down the stairs, the cacophony of different/unfamiliar voices, and the final straw, your door opens and a dolphin-like scream rings your ears.
Before you can open your eyes and see who it is they are running out of view but leaving the door swinging wide open. A man with glasses peaks his head in like a curious cat, immediately apologizing at the sight of you, "So sorry.". Promptly he closes the door leaving you reeling from the abrupt intrusion and unable to pinch together enough sense to realize the predicament you're in.
The door bursts open once again, and this time Mingyu rushes in. "I'm so sorry, they came in so suddenly. I told them not to come up-" "Who?" "My friends, it's okay, I yelled at them to go back downstairs. Are you alright?" he's hurriedly assessing your condition as if you were the one who screamed. "I'm fine…just shaken?" "Okay. Well, wash up, don't worry they won't bother you again and I'll tell them to leave." "You don't have to-" "I do though, they are so annoying" he huffs which elicits a laugh from you. He pats your shoulder before moving his hand towards your face, running his thumb over your jawline, admiring you for a few seconds. "I'll meet you in the living room?" "Yeah, I'll be trying to get those weirdo's out of here." he gets up and closes the door behind him as he leaves. You can hear a muffled yell that echoes through the halls as Mingyu scolds his friends.
Another day has come and you are absolutely alive.
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TAGLIST (open):@jjin-kun @mydolle-dd
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skzoologist · 16 hours
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Hidden flaws
word count: ~2.4k
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguments
summary: Nobody is perfect, and emotions help highlight those flaws.
a/n: I know this isn't the best I had written and most probably not what any of you expected, but I wanted to show that Bae has his flaws too, that he isn't all those wonderful things he shows to everyone. I hope you guys will still enjoy reading this drabble nonetheless.
Back to the masterlist
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Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!
!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!
!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!
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·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙
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·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙
A heavy sigh left his chest, his shoulders sagging in temporary relief as the hefty bag was gently thrown into the corner. The door let out a soft click as it closed shut behind his exhausted form, something that only hunched over more as he’d noticed how a certain few pairs of shoes were chaotically thrown in the way. He knew which pair belonged to who, of course he did, and that only heightened his frustrations as he had already asked them several times to not do this.
But no matter. He was way too tired to deal with this right now.
The place was fairly quiet, save for some gentle murmurs of far-away conversations and the occasional shouts of Felix and Jeongin, who were most probably playing some kind of video game against each other -if the cursing was anything to go by, that is-.
And so Bae simply stood there for the next few minutes, drinking in the quite rare moment of silence after a particularly hectic day of work, even though every muscle and tendon inside his body screamed for rest, to just lay down and not move for the next 12 hours. He listened to the passing vehicles down below, the gentle tip-tapping of the water droplets as they hit the windows, of the continuous shuffling of fabric from everyone’s rooms down the hallway.
With each familiar sound his shoulders relaxed, that deeply-etched line between his eyebrows becoming faded and less visible.
But of course, peace could never last long in that dorm, in the one the nine of them shared.
As Bae moved towards his room to rest, his arm dragging his bag behind on the floor, his shoulder was pushed away so violently he nearly tripped backwards, were it not for the wall to catch his stumbling form.
“Jesus christ, watch where you’re going. I nearly fell because of you.” - one of the youngest spat out, anger and frustration dripping from each word.
The tired idol could only watch Seungmin’s leaving form, all his attention stolen from the lack of honorifics and the form of someone else passing by as he immediately closed his eyes so tightly it looked painful. His lung filled to the brim with another intake of air, this one much more urgent than the last, trapped inside until his veins screamed for release and comfort.
It was fine.
He was fine.
After hauling his bag into his room, his eyes momentarily got caught on the clean, folded clothes he had asked someone to put away. But before he could even fully process that information he had heard shouting from the way he had just come from, the two participants of the heated argument painfully obvious. It wouldn’t have been hard to guess anyway, with the mood Seungmin had just been in.
Sure enough, it only took Bae a few steps to witness that exact member and Changbin looking ready to tear each others’ heads off, a sight rarer than ever.
While Seungmin had always been one to stay calm and jokingly teasing, it was even rarer to see Changbin so ready to fight another member. The gym enthusiast always had a heart of gold, exercising his frustrations out instead of throwing it at any of them.
Both of them were only growing more heated with each passing second, veins visibly jumping underneath their skin with fiery anger. Changbin’s fists were both clenched to the point Bae was sure the skin would break, while Seungmin was biting his lip to the point of drawing blood between each violent word he’d stabbed the shorter male with.
Naturally, this drew the attention of every else in the dorm, each pair of eyes wide in disbelief at what was happening. The sight caused them to freeze, unable to believe that out of everyone, these two were having an actual argument and not just a playful banter they always had instead.
But Bae had been there before them by a few minutes, having already witnessed it all, and thus he was able to force his body to move, to act, his hands pushing at the arguing duo’s chests firmly. Two pairs of vicious eyes zeroed in on his form, yet only one’s owner spoke up.
“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You can barely stand, for fuck’s sake! You come back late, you don’t know anything that happened, and yet you dare get between us? You always do this, playing the peacemaker in this group, as if you’re some kind of goody-two-shoes. You’re such a faker!”
It was silent after Seungmin’s words, the entire atmosphere turning chilly and dangerous. Changbin immediately backed down as if he was scorched, Bae’s hand now uselessly lifted in the air and staying completely still, until it returned to his side and clenched into a fist. Still, it was unable to fully conceal the swirling emotions residing deep within his chest, everything that had happened that day, that week, now desperately trying to spill to the top and consume him alive, injuring not only him in the process, but others as well.
A droplet of blood slithered down the cracks of his skin while nobody dared to move, the uttered words hanging in the air, letting their owner realise their meaning as they dug deeply into everyone’s skin like a vicious parasite.
“Seungmin-” “No, Chan. It’s okay. He’s right. In his eyes, I am what he just called me as.” “No, Bae-”
It all happened in an instant.
In one moment, Bae was standing between Seungmin and Changbin, Chan just far enough to not be able to prevent what was to come. Because in the next moment, Seungmin laid on the floor, dishevelled and panicked as Bae loomed above him, an unconcealed rage filling his once kind eyes. Bae’s chest burned with each intake, veins on the verge of bursting from the sudden added pressure and he was sure he would be chipping a tooth if he continued clenching his jaw as hard as he had been doing so far.
But he couldn’t stop himself anymore. It was all too much. All reason was thrown out the window after that comment, something that dug deeper than Seungmin would have ever thought it would.
He’d stepped on a lion’s tail, and now he had to face the consequences.
Bae’s chest heaved violently, his heart hidden inside thumping so fast it was a wonder how it had remained in its rightful place. That vicious, disgustingly familiar feeling gripped at his throat, nearly choking him to death if he didn’t let it out.
In a blink his arm moved to grip the younger’s hoodie better, shouting breaking out around him. The boy in his grip, locked underneath him, looked like a deer caught in headlights, his entire being shaken down to its core.
Bae hated that look. Hated whenever someone looked at him that way, those wide, fearful eyes haunting him in his nightmares relentlessly. He hated how Seungmin visibly shrank in on himself when one of his hands moved, a breath caught in his throat from the sheer fear, even though it wasn’t a movement fueled by violence. Bae hated how those eyes glistened, hated how that revolting feeling inside him writhed in delight at the sight, but out of everything, he hated the most how Seungmin thought he would actually hurt him.
He hated how even that wasn’t enough to cool himself off, the need to move around and destroy still resided inside besides that deep hurt, begging to take control.
So, with a silent exhale, he stood up and wordlessly went to the door, not answering anyone’s questions as only a silent click could be heard behind him.
He’d heard Chan explaining to the others what had happened as he was leaving, the older aussie being the person who had helped Bae keep his anger issues in check easier. Because as calm and collected as he could look, Bae was only a human with countless flaws. And this one, this one had to be his least favourite. He’d gotten better at controlling it over the years of being an idol, but he couldn’t get rid of it. At one point, this bubbling anger would always break onto the surface, burning everyone around him.
And he never failed to dread that moment.
That was how he always found himself in the gym, the punching bag taking all his frustrations and anger away slowly with each punch, his head feeling calmer and emptier. It was how he had gotten into regularly exercising, actually, the act being his much needed anchor.
Because even after all those words, all the days’ frustrations as he filmed countless scenes and practised certain moves over and over again, he would rather die than hurt one of the members, people who had become his family.
“Hey.”
Changbin’s soft voice was a sudden change, something that Bae wasn’t expecting and so his next punch missed, the bag hitting his body instead and causing him to nearly fall to the ground.
“Hey, hey, I gotcha. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.” - the younger male said, helping Bae gather his balance once more. “No, it’s okay.”
It was a bit awkward after that, none of them uttering a single word, merely shuffling in place or fixing their clothes. Bae of course knew why his dongsaeng was there, it couldn’t have been more obvious. Changbin’s eyes looked everywhere but at him, no matter how hard Bae had tried.
A heavy sigh left the younger’s lips, eyes finally meeting Bae’s with a heavy gaze, yet no words accompanied them.
A droplet of sweat glided down the taller’s skin as he closed his eyes, a silent sigh leaving his form.
“It’s okay. I heard Chan hyung explaining things after I left, and the younger ones had to know about it sooner or later.” - Bae said, his voice softer than he had hoped for. “But-” “No buts, Bin, it’s okay. And it wasn’t your fault either. I just… didn’t have the best day. I apologise, truly.” “You aren’t completely right, Hyung. Comeback season is on our necks and this time around, you have the most work put onto your shoulders. Every day you come back past midnight, looking like a zombie, and yet you keep doing chores around the dorm as well. You shouldn’t need to come back to such a scene on top of that, where two of us are fighting, especially when I know how you can be.”
Bae could merely blink down at his younger friend, not having expected that at all.
“Oh come on, say something, don’t just blink at me with those pretty eyes of yours!”
A faint red dusted Bae’s ears at those words, smacking Changbin’s shoulder in return.
“But what was that about anyway?” “You mean the argument? Oh, well… We just haven't really seen eye-to-eye with each others’ performances lately. I… I kept criticising every line he sang, and in return, he kept doing the same with my rap. It all bursted out when I mentioned how he should redo a few lines tomorrow.”
Bae didn’t need to say anything, he could see how Changbin had already reflected over his actions. Regret was clearly written on his face, a slight frown always sitting on his pouty lips. And those deep, dark eyes of his told entire tales of the same thing, and thus, Bae just stood beside him silently.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hyung! I know I fucked up, okay? I shouldn’t be this harsh on him, but I just. I just want him to do his very best, y’know? Because I know he can. He’s our main vocalist, and this track suits him so well.” - Changbin’s voice turned so tender near the end that it almost broke Bae’s heart, because he understood it all.
He also wanted the others to do their very best, to encourage them and help them become that new, best version of themselves. Everyone wanted that from the other, and sometimes that want turned into something hurtful, as regretful as it was.
“Anyway, come on, let’s go so we can both apologise to him, yeah? I would hate for him to go to sleep like this, to actually believe the stupid things I accidentally threw at him.”
With Bae’s silent nod the two were off, the short journey back to their dorms passing in silence. Both males were stressing over their apologies, which words to say that would earn them forgiveness. But deep down Bae feared that he wouldn’t ever be forgiven, his actions harsh and unlike him when his anger took the reins. He knew that all too well. After all, that was the reason why he always went to hide away at the gym at such times.
His stomach churned and rolled around with each step, and much too soon, they were at the door already. Neither of them reached for the handle, as they just stood there, hesitant.
Much too suddenly the door swung open, the person they had least expected standing on the other side, having expected them.
“Come in.” - he said, the two obediently following him into the living room.
It was clear Seungmin had been crying, the skin underneath his eyes scrubbed red and raw. Bae’s heart clenched at the sight, that deep-rooted self hatred only burying itself deeper into his chest. There was a lump growing inside his throat, and he knew that if he were to just stand there, he would be unable to say anything later.
“I’m sorry, Seungmin.” - he whispered out, his voice nearly breaking from hidden emotion.
He turned away to leave, that familiar burning appearing behind his eyes, but something held him back. A quick glance told him that it was Seungmin himself, his small hand peeking out from his sweater paws. A habit he only practised when he was feeling upset.
“No, Hyung, stay. Please.” - the boy whispered out, tugging at his sleeve once more with such desperation that Bae couldn’t deny, even as a stray tear rolled down his skin.
And so the three stayed in the living room over warm cups of tea and ramyeon, talking everything out. Although the damage had been done, scars could heal if looked after properly; and none of them were planning to leave.
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sl-vega · 2 days
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ʚɞ UPCOMING WORKS
↳ a list of all my upcoming bluelock fics this month! (i may add more) so let me know if you wanna be tagged in them, I won't tag anyone directly in this post due to tumblr's limitations, but i will take note of your user, i will still check if tagging you is possible and i will let you know if there are any issues with tagging you, also if you change your user right before one of the fics comes out, please let me know. everything here is first come first serve! (not that i think any of the taglists will get filled up)
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❀˖° SCARY? MY GOD YOU'RE DIVINE
╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo x [GN!] Reader
In which your boyfriend hates the way he looks due to his uncanny resemblance to some of their family members that they aren't exactly fond of, but you're here to assure them that they're perfect just the way they are.
(1/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597
ꨄ︎ FAKE THAT LOVE!
╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [FEM!] Reader, Shidou Ryusei x Sae Itoshi
rin's older brother is coming back from college just in time for the itoshi family's thanksgiving dinner, and with a boyfriend in tow, so naturally, like the spiteful little shit he is, he decides to get you to pretend to be his girlfriend to one up sae. (tldr; rin is petty, so he gets his friend that he may or may not have feelings for to be his fake girlfriend, and family shenanigans ensue
(1/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597
༘⋆✿ BOY CRAZY FOR A CRAZY BOY
╰┈➤ pairing: Shidou Ryusei x [FEM!] Reader
being rin's childhood best friend, you've naturally grown fond of his older brother, sae, a sentiment that you've carried far into your adulthood like the hopeless romantic you are (much to rin's dismay) so after practically begging the poor boy to set you up with his brother, he begrudgingly agrees. but what happens next when you arrive at sae's apartment, only to find his crazy roommate? and what happens when you start to fall for him instead?!
(0/30) taglist:
𝜗𝜚 FIRST DATE FOR THE SECOND TIME
╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [FEM!] Reader
after karasu accidentally ghosted you without explanation after leaving for bluelock for a few months, it's safe to say that you assumed he dumped you. but what's worse is that you suddenly see him on tv playing in the blue lock vs u-20 match. but suddenly, after traveling to shibuya to take your mind off of him, you happen to run into the same stupid crow that broke your heart again. but part of you wants to try again with him, so will ya' give him a chance?
(0/30) taglist:
✿-INEFFABLE BUREAUCRACY-✿
╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [GN!] Reader
campaigning season has come to an end, and with a heavy heart, you had to accept the fact that you lost the student council election to the ever so lovely rin itoshi, but during lunch, your former rival pulls you aside for a personal matter. now what ever could it be? (or in which two so-called "enemies" get over themselves and finally realize that they could be more than just rivals)
(1/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ CAFE CRUSHIN'
╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [BARISTA!] Reader
after the recent Blue Lock 11 VS Japan's U-20 game took the world by storm, a certain Karasu Tabito had caught your attention, not that you're expecting anything to come from your little crush, there's no way you'd actually meet him in person,....right? spoiler alert!: turns out that you do, and now you're face-to-face with your so-called celebrity crush, and your co-workers aren't helping that matter
(0/30) taglist:
32 notes · View notes
artdcnaldson · 2 days
Note
i have a quick additional thought for you to match my freak on that i need to add before i forget!!!
so lets say you lose a match, disaster, because it should have been an easy win. its not a super important match or anything, but you lost it because you lost focus and werent giving it your all. coach art cant have that, it makes him look bad when you lose. he tells you as much in the car ride home, at this point your living "in his guestroom" which is a lie you tell people so they dont find out you sleep in his bed every night.
when you get home he makes you sit on your knees at the foot of the bed, between his spread legs as he sits on the edge. its hard for him to punish you, not because he doesnt want to or because he thinks youre too precious, no thats not it at all. the issue is that youre such a fucking slut that you get off on pleasuring him in any way, it wouldnt matter if he fucked you and told you that you couldnt cum, you would be okey with that. or if he fucked your face until you're crying and begging for air, you'd even asked him to do that before. so how can he possibly punish you? the only thing he's found to work is to make you sit and watch as he pleasures himself, all without you. he makes you sit there, hands behind your back just for good measure, inches from his throbbing cock as he fucks his hand. refusing to let you touch him at all. its the only thing that makes you whine and beg him to stop, beg him to let you do it for him, plead that youd do anything to give him pleasure. all this while he degrades you, tells you everything you did wrong during the game, missed opportunities and bad shots, telling you how youre embarrassing him when you play like that, that youre tainting his legacy when you lose a match that you shouldve won in your sleep. he really would feel bad for his harsh words, if there wasnt a puddle of your arousal pooling on the floor right under your cunt. his heart would ache at the cruelty of his critique if you werent moaning and crying and begging him to please forgive you, you'll do anything to make it right again, you'll never play that badly ever again. you'll do anything to make him proud again
oh also he makes you repeat all the things you did wrong to really hammer it home, lol. when he's finally satisfied and feels like youve understood your lesson he lets you fuck yourself stupid on his cock, but he refuses to help you. he makes you do it all on your own, and if you cant then you just dont get to cum :)))
TIHIHIHIHIHIHI mean art makes me giggle and kick my feet. i luv him so much tihi. i would do anything for him, truly.
-🐞
YUMMMMMMMM
And it was a close match too, went all the way to a tie break and really could’ve gone either way, but he’s being especially mean about it because he knows you’ll want to make it up to him double until the next match.
There are pouty little tears in your eyes while you kneel between his strong, muscular thighs, as he jerks himself off right above your face, so close you can smell the heady musk of him and your mouth waters in a Pavlovian response.
And you can take him pointing out spots you fucked up— a shitty backhand that wound up with a ball in the net, a moment’s hesitation when you should’ve been running for a drop shot, a clumsy serve, bad footing. You can take it, easy, you’ve taken that critique from every other coach you’ve ever had.
But it’s painful to hear him say you’re tarnishing his legacy. That you were the one who promised you’d be his perfect little prodigy, and you’re losing simple fucking matches that you shouldve been able to do blindfolded. That it’s embarrassing to have your name attached to his.
And he gets off on it, the pathetic little whimpers that you make whenever he says something particularly mean. But it’s the pleasure he gets from it, the way his hand speeds up whenever your eyes get all watery, how your lip wobbles and you see his balls tense and draw up.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, your voice thick with desperation and arousal. “I’ll never make stupid mistakes again. I’ll practice harder, I’ll practice nonstop. I’ll do anything so you’ll forgive me. I’ll do whatever you tell me to, all so I can win titles for us.”
And there was the difference. His floundering, fail of a marriage to Tashi was hinged on winning for her. You wanted to win for yourself and for him. Maybe mostly to please him.
“I think you learned your lesson.” He sits against the headboard, nods at you expectantly, hesitant until he pulls you so your drippy, needy cunt is hovering just above his cock. You sink down slowly, a guttural, desperate moan escaping your lips.
You grind your hips slowly, enticingly, begging for his attention. “C’mon, you’ve gotta work for it. I’m not gonna help you. I can’t help you on the court, can I? You need to start doing things for yourself.”
Your muscles ache from the long, arduous match, but you do your best to push through the discomfort and ride him in earnest. Your thighs slap against his on each bounce, as you impale yourself on his dick.
You want him to take over, to touch you. To forgive you for failing so spectacularly. But he watches you, almost impassive. The only clues that you’re affecting him are in the moans that slip past his lips.
“I’m sorry, Art,” you whine as you settle for just grinding down against him. It feels so right, the pressure on your sweet spot, the brush of soft, downy curls against your clit. “F-fuck— I’ll be your perfect player, I promise. Bring you lots of trophies.”
Your pace quickens as you grind harder, moans slipping out uninhibited. “Never gonna disappoint you again, I promise. I’ll be so perfect for you. No more stupid mistakes.”
It’s adorable, the way you’re prostrating yourself before him. You need his forgiveness like you need to cum, maybe they hinge on each other. But he makes you work for it, keep fucking yourself on him, get really desperate.
Hot, frustrated tears streak your cheeks, your cunt squeezes around him. “Art, please please please please—“ he’s not even sure what you’re begging for.
You cum with a string of moans, clutching onto him desperately— your skin slick against his. He kisses your forehead, rubs your back soothingly as you sniffle and cry. “Do you forgive me? For embarrassing you today?”
He nods. “Mhmm. Just have to show me you’re more serious next time, okay?”
You nod quickly, happy to have a goal, something to aim for. More serious— more devoted. You could do that.
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ivykim · 3 days
Text
ENHYPEN PLAYS: LETHAL COMPANY
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MISSION START ▶️
the five members bow slightly to the camera, “hello ENGENEs! today, we are playing another game.” jungwon starts off.
“since everyone enjoyed us playing the backrooms and there were a lot of positive reactions. we decided to bring in a new game!” jake continues.
“since noona is joining us today, would you like to introduce the game?”
she claps once, “everyone! today we are playing a game called ‘Letal Company’. ooooo, is everyone excited?”
“I’ve never heard of this game before.” sunghoon says. ivy gasps.
“you’ve never heard of the game? it took the whole world by storm. maybe not Korea? I don’t know but I watched a bunch of people play this on YouTube!”
“foreigners?” heeseung tilts his head. ivy hums.
“yup! anyways, usually the game only allows 4 players at a time but! I added a few mods into the game to make it more fun. just teensy tiny ones.”
“oh, I don’t think engenes know this. we’re playing at the dorms instead because noona said that PC cafes don’t have this game. she paid for each game on our own computers.” jake explains.
[IVY proving how rich she is. FLEX💪🏻]
ivy rolls her eyes playfully, “I just want you guys to enjoy the game without any troubles.”
“and we are thankful for that noona.” jungwon smiles. ivy pats the younger male.
“my favourite.”
jake gasps, “you have favourites in enhypen?”
“now, jaeyun-”
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[please note that IVY has no favourite in ENHYPEN she loves them all equally]
“okay! everyone in on their computers now?” ivy turns to look at each of the boys on the discord call.
“yup, but how do we join the game?”
“i’ll send you guys invites just click on it.”
“okay.”
the 4 boys wait for ivy patiently. that is until jake storms into ivy’s room and starts to mess with her.
“yah! sim jaeyun, back to your room! just wait.” he starts poking ivy. “wait!”
“jake hyung!” jungwon yells from his room.
“ouh? it’s working, it’s working!” heeseung says as he loads into the game.
jake runs back into his room to attempt to join the game. once everyone loads into the game, ivy clicks the number 1 on her keyboard. her character starts dancing.
“what? how do you do that?” sunghoon says.
“why is the astronaut a better dancer than us??” jungwon adds.
“noona!! teach us.”
“hit 1 on the keyboard.” ivy says and so the 4 boys listened. they all yelled in excitement.
“YOIIIIII.” jungwon yells.
“can we make it do fever?” heeseung asks.
“no, now. the premise of the game since i’ve watched multiple gameplays.” ivy breathes in. “number 1, our main objective is to go on planets and collect scrap. number 2, we have a quota to reach.” her character points to the quota. “we have 3 days to collect enough scrap and then by the 3rd day, we need to sell it to the company.”
“who is the company?” jake asks.
“mmm, let’s say it’s BELIFT. we are selling our resources to BELIFT. then they will give us money and then we can either buy stuff to improve ourselves or challenge and go to bigger places that are harder than the simple ones.”
“ooo great analogy.” heeseung compliments.
“thank you.”
“what if we don’t reach the quota?”
“we get booted off like we’re on I-LAND.” ivy explains brutally. the boys gasp.
“not I-LAND.”
“exactly so we have to meet our quota, boys. you ready?”
“umm, yes?”
“great.” ivy pulls the lever. it loads them into the game. the spaceship flies down onto the planet and they land. the aircraft door opens.
“welcome to the land so far it’s normal so you don’t have to worry about anything yet. however, if the planet is eclipsed, it’s best if you stay quiet or the dogs will be out to murder you.” ivy explains further. none of the boys moved just yet. “come on, follow me. click right click to scan where the entrance of the place is by the way.”
the boys followed her.
“oh, there is a bridge, will it break-” just as jungwon says so, the bridge breaks and falls.
“am i too heavy?” jake says. ivy laughs.
“nah, if there are too many people walking on the bridge then it breaks. it’s old. don’t worry, jake. you’re not heavy. you can try to go by the emergency exit if you’d like.”
“but noona, i’m scared.” jake says.
“okay, then climb up here. you can walk over there and then come over. me, sunghoon and heeseung will wait at the entrance.”
“what about me, noona?” jungwon yells.
“there is a stable bridge to your left! you can walk over there and then come over to us!” ivy yells back. she turns to the other two. “you two, if you’re brave enough you can go in. we don’t have much time since the time is going by now. if you see the clock above us, we have to be back on the ship by midnight.”
“can we leave early?”
“yup, just as long as we get back on the ship by midnight with scrap.”
“this game is complicated.”
“for your first time, yes but if you play it a bunch of times. nah. you two can go in together, i’ll wait for jake and jungwon.”
and so, heeseung and sunghoon head inside first. not even a second later, they came back out just as jungwon and jake finally made it to the entrance.
“hey, umm vivi you didn’t explain to the both of us that it was scary in there.” heeseung says.
“this game is baby compared to the backrooms. you two don’t have to be so scared. come on.” ivy enters the building and the boys followed in. their voices were slightly altered when they entered the building. like they were in an abandoned building (which they were).
“okay, so you guys wanna split up or stay together.”
“won’t we get murdered quicker if we don’t stick together?” jake says.
“not exactly. you get killed either ways.” ivy says. “how about this. jungwon, heeseung and jake can stick together. me and hoon can look around. we’ll meet at the entrance.”
“but noona, you know the game than us.” jake pouts.
“oh don’t worry, jungwon would probably find a way. which by the way, if you find a stop sign or any sign you can use it as a weapon to kill the monsters.” ivy smiles. “good luck! hoon, let’s go.” both ivy and sunghoon went to the right side of the building.
“WHAT? MONSTERS???”
[ENHYPEN’s journey starts now]
ivy and sunghoon went down the stairs.
“i probably should’ve told them that we can’t hear them and they can’t hear us since we are far from each other.” ivy says. sunghoon’s character turns to ivy, he looks at the camera and deadpans.
“are you serious?”
“yeah, unless we have a walkie talkie but we need to buy that.”
they opened the door and spot a rubber ducky on the ground. “hoon, grab that. that’s scrap. how much is it? scan it.”
“the value is 40.”
“woah, that’s an expensive duck.”
“inflation.” sunghoon says simply. ivy snorts.
they heard a yippie from somewhere and sunghoon starts panicking.
“what? what’s that?”
“you met your first monster. it’s a hoarder bug. it normally doesn’t make that sound. i just put that mod to make it less scary.” ivy explains.
“so i can’t take their things?”
“nope. they’ll murder you so it’s best we ignore it and move on. unless you want to risk your life.”
“oh, no thank you.” sunghoon eyes the bug and starts dancing in front of it. “will they trade if i dance for them?”
“you can try.”
“do you speak KoHReAN.” sunghoon says in english while his character continues dancing. ivy laughs.
“i don’t think they do.” the bug continues to say ‘yippie!’. “oh, hoon. i see something huge that could give us big money!”
“what?” ivy points to the item in game.
“that. it’s an engine.”
“engene? we have to get it then. save our engene!”
“yes, save our engene.”
while ivy and hoon are saving engene. let’s see how jake, jungwon and heeseung are handling their experience.
[JAKE moves forward while covering his eyes shut]
“jake hyung, it’s not that scary. don’t worry.” jungwon says.
“mmm! it’s better than the backrooms.”
“okay…you better not be tricking me.” jake uncovers his eyes. just as he does so, they heard stomping.
“i think i might start cursing.” jake says.
heeseung notices something. scrap!
“yah yah, look. there is scrap over there! let’s grab it and then look for more.”
however none of them moved. both jake and heeseung looked over at jungwon expecting him to do it. “okay, fine. i’ll go there.” jungwon walks over and grabs the scrap. “guys, there is more over here! my inventory is full though. i need help.”
heeseung and jake went over to help. they collected the items.
“is that all?” they inspected the rooms and then they spot a monster, thumping and getting closer to them.
“what the hell is that.” jake says.
the monster turns to them and so their eyes widened. they quickly left and ran away. all three of them yelled out loud.
“NOONA!!!” jake yells.
back to ivy and sunghoon, their trip was decently peaceful. their inventories were almost full. then they hear a couple of footsteps. ivy knew which monster it was.
“hoon, let’s get out of here and meet up with the rest.”
“why? what’s wrong, noona?”
they came across a spider web. “that is what’s wrong.”
“spider-man?”
“no! it’s a spider and we don’t have any weapons! let’s go!!” ivy says. the pitter patter gets closer and so both ivy and sunghoon left quickly. they went back to the main entrance. jungwon, jake and heeseung made it to the entrance. their hearts raced quickly. just as they caught their breaths. a shadow dude comes into the space. jake yells and leaves the building. however, heeseung gets his neck snapped. jungwon’s jaw drops.
“HEESEUNG HYUNG!!” he was about to chase after the monster but ivy and sunghoon arrived.
“do not chase after that monster. he’ll kill you too!” ivy says. “grab heeseung’s stuff, we have to leave. where is jake?”
“outside.” they grabbed heeseung’s scrap and left the building. it was decently dark out, the sun was setting.
“we have to get back to the ship now.” ivy says. they made their way back to the ship.
[this felt like a thriller/horror movie]
they heard large stomping sounds.
“get in quickly.” ivy whispers. she enters the ship and drops her items. “everyone in?”
“yeah.” just as sunghoon says so, there was a growl.
“close the door.” ivy instructs. “the dogs are out.”
“DOGS??” jake says. there was a terrifying growl. ivy takes off the ship quickly. just as the dog was about to come in, jungwon shuts the door. “those were not dogs.”
“they are blind dogs so they react to sound. like i said before if we go on an eclipsed planet, the percentage will increase for monsters. that means those ‘dogs’ will have a higher percent to spawn on those planets.” ivy says.
“what was the loud stomping though?” sunghoon asks.
“giants. they’re just mainly blind but they can hear.”
“what about the thumping in the building…” jake nervously say.
“that monster spawned too??” ivy’s jaw drops. “okay, let’s debrief first. heeseung should come back since we’re safe and in the air now.”
[HEESEUNG spawns in]
“okay, tell me how your trip went and what happened to heeseung?”
“so basically, we heard some thumping but still went forward to grab some scrap. once we collected it, we saw what was making the noise.”
“the monster didn’t have any body. just a head and arms for legs. he also looks like a fish.” jake says.
“then we got scared and ran to the main entrance. once we arrived, we heard a weird scary sound like a growl and then a shadow man came up, jake hyung ran out but heeseung hyung got his neck snapped and the guy dragged his body.” jungwon explains.
“that’s the bracken by the way. he actually lurks behind you before attacking you. i think the editors can put up a video of it for ENGENEs while i show it to you guys.”
[IVY showed the video to the boys]
jake cowers in fear, “i don’t want to play anymore!”
“same!”
“wait guys, drop your things. let’s see how much we made. then maybe we can just land and get a little more than leave quickly. I can show you the company where we sell everything.” ivy says.
“how do we drop things?”
“press G.”
the boys dropped their things. “okay, right click to scan and we should see the total up amount.”
“is 340 enough?”
“more than enough. our first time is only 130. we crushed it.”
“ooo that means we can just play around on the second day.”
“yup!”
which is what the five of them did. ivy types into the computer. “let me see the moons.”
> 41 EXPERIMENTATION - Eclipsed
ivy’s jaw drops. she looks at the camera. “editors can you bleep this when i curse?”
“why? why? what’s wrong?” heeseung asks.
“guys, we are absolutely f-”
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[ARTIST PROTECTION]
“oh? why?” jungwon tilts his head.
“it’s eclipsed.” the aircraft lands and they instantly hear growling. the door opens and ivy crouches in game. she shuts the door.
“everyone keep quiet or whisper. i can tell you there is no way we are going to get out of this ship. we are screwed.” the boys too had crouched in game. jungwon looks over to the lever and just holds ‘e’. he pulls the lever and of they went.
“i think it was best.”
“definitely a good choice.” sunghoon says.
“so the company?” jake says.
“okay, one second.” ivy goes on the computer and types ‘71-Gordion’ (the company).
“what do you do in the computer anyways?”
“you can watch people on the monitor and see where we are. disable turrets, know where the monsters are, open and close doors, buy stuff and also see which moon is eclipsed or not or has bad weather.”
“woah, so this computer is like the main thing huh.” jake says.
“yup. anyways, who wants to pull the lever? i already set us to the company.” sunghoon pulls the lever.
they arrived at the company, it was dark and mysterious. ominous too. it sent shivers down jake’s spine.
“i got goosebumps. i don’t like this.”
“well, we are here. grab our stuff. maybe we can save some stuff. just enough for our quota.”
“can we keep the duck?” sunghoon asks.
“sure. just leave it inside the storage closet.” ivy opens the closet and sunghoon places the duck inside. “okay, for this part. everyone please silently walk up to the mysterious door and place the things on the counter.”
“what happens if you make noise?” heeseung asks.
“a monster will snatch you and kill you.”
“so let’s keep quiet.”
each of them placed their items onto the counter. “who wants to press the bell?”
“jake hyung.” jungwon points to jake.
jake sighs and presses the bell. he quickly runs away. the door opens and a hook snatches their items away.
“ewww what was that! why was there a hook taking our things away??” jake says.
“that’s the company.”
the money pops up and it shows that they reached their quota.
“we now have money and a new quota just dropped!” ivy says. she points to the new number.
“301?? oh god.”
“mmm, i think we played this game for at least 3 hours now.”
“yeah, it’s quite fun right? time flies by really fast in this game.” ivy says.
“maybe we can ask sunoo, jay and ni-ki to join us since noona added the mod for more people.” jungwon says.
“i don’t think jay would like this game very much. it’s too scary for him. he didn’t even want to play the backrooms with us.” jake says.
“well, did you enjoy ‘Lethal Company’?” ivy asks.
“we did, it’s quite fun.”
ivy turns to the camera. “well, ENGENEs i hope you enjoyed me, jungwon, jake, sunghoon and heeseung playing the game! be sure to also check out when these four played the backrooms! really fun to watch them play it. i wanna play it too but they only allow 4 players.”
“noona, me, sunghoon and heeseung hyung can play together.” jake smirks.
“oh? it’s a deal then!” ivy smirks. “anyways, ENGENEs thank you for watching this video! oh and comment down below if i should convince jay, sunoo and ni-ki to play along with us. maybe i’ll find a way to convince them.”
all of them waved to the camera and the video ends.
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