#also the person who commissioned this was such a sweetheart

[goblinbeetle]

[staryuee]

NOT SAYING “I LOVE YOU” BACK.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread pls don’t yell at me *sniffles*

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . [char] and you tend to say your i love yous pretty regularly, it’s become a subconscious routine for the both of you; what would happen if either one of you just suddenly didn’t respond?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . venti, diluc, xiao, tartaglia, kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^) drabbles vary in length significantly because…i’m a little unwell with astarion brainrot rn and i will not rest till i get to kiss my beautiful vampiric man — also i apologise for making some of these more angsty than intended…i couldn’t help myself haha

VENTI — 温迪

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ venti? of all people? not saying i love you to his beloved windblume whom he’d personally resurrect ancient gods for if they asked with that sweet, melodic voice of theirs?

ʚ the only viable reason for him not replying can most likely be bottled down to him being a brat. a spoiled one at that. you give him so much affection it’s a little scary sometimes to think someone just know all of his ins and out as if they held his heart within the palm of their hand meaninglessly. so how do you expect him to be satisfied with a mere phrase when he wants you so desperately?

“i’m leaving for a commission, i’ll be back in a few hours; love you, honey.” you said per routine, fixing your hair in the mirror that stood perfectly near the doorway under venti’s request (he likes seeing how his braids look after you do them in the morning).

what you expected was a reply, but certainly not the one that followed: “alright, bye bye~” venti tilted his head back as his body slinked on the couch, his eyes scanning yours upside down with that look on his face which suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.

“goodbye, venti, i love you.” you re-enunciate, arms crossing firmly over your chest pridefully to mirror venti’s stubbornness that fell immediately upon sight of your pretty face glancing over at his. oh, he really couldn’t resist you for too long.

“i’ll say it back if you stay with me today!” he giggled, teeth on full display as he grinned widely; fully aware you’d indulge him even if for only a little while.

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

“windblume…” venti sadly slumped his head on your shoulder, leaving enough space for his eyes to glance at the book in your hands as you continued to read despite his sulking.

“i accidentally packed my schedule full with a flurry of performances…i’m afraid i won’t be able to indulge in your cuddles all day like i wanted to,” he whined, kissing the side of your neck to compensate for the lack of affection he’s going to have to put up with.

really, if he could, he’d pretend all the strings on his lyre magically untuned themselves into havoc if it meant giving an excuse to be back in your warm hold. but as a god of the wind, and one who shared the passions of music no less, it was more or less his duty to share his w with the residents of mondstadt when asked so kindly.

“i promise i’ll return to you soon as i can! no quick stop at angel’s share this time either,” venti managed a chuckle despite the inner thumping of his heart at the mere prospect of returning home to you — an experience he never thought he’d fulfil in his lifetime. “i love you dearly, my darling, i’ll see you soon~”

he leaned over the back of the couch to help reach the side of your face, lips pursing into a fish-like pout as he awaited to hear those beloved words that were always followed by a rewarding kiss. yet you merely hummed in acknowledgement of his presence and his soon departure.

who do you think you are?

venti’s brows immediately knit down together in frustration. “windblume…i said, i love you,” he leaned closer, “sweetheart…come on, say it back!” he finally nuzzled his cheek against yours, trying to elicit some sort of response from you that didn’t border on full on ignoring him. usually that slight uplift of your lips would be enough, but with the additional context that he’d be away from you for so long, venti couldn’t cope with a mere smile!

feeling a little flicker of breeze behind you, goosebumps prickle your skin and a delicate shiver runs down your spine, the little gust of wind disappearing as quick as it came. venti hooked his fingers beneath your chin, delicately forcing your eyes to meet his. “won’t you tell your god you love him?”

those gorgeous and elaborate white wings of his flutter quietly, twitching in anticipation as he excitedly awaits for what he’s been dying to hear. you sigh, leaning towards him to press the most featherlight kiss on the side of his face. “i love you too, now go along already, you’re going to be late.”

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ you’ve probably, unfortunately, caught him at a relatively bad time if he had completely ignored your affections. after all, while not necessarily a really active recipient, diluc is more than happy to indulge your carefree “i love yous” and kisses.

ʚ there’s no way he’d ever intentionally ignore or not reply to an “i love you”, especially one that’s so sickly sweet to his ears

“i’m going to bed, luc,” you yawn, arms stretching far out in front of you as you push yourself away from the desk that was littered with several papers stacked on top of each other in various piles that were marked by different pen colours. “you better come join me soon, alright? i love you.”

diluc hums and nods his head, eyes sunken into his skull as his fingers continue flipping the pen within his hand in a sleepy dance as he just barely managed to focus on the words that seemed to squeeze together. none of yours even register in his mind as you sorrowfully close the office door to head to your usually shared bedroom.

it only takes a little while for his brain to catch up to his heart. so that’s why he felt it flutter…

diluc immediately packs away his things to the best of his drowsy ability, hanging up his coat that he honesty forgot he still had draped on himself before he burst into your bedroom rather dramatically. panting from having rushed himself, his arms propping himself up with both sides of the door way, diluc looks away all flushed.

“…i love you as well, i’m sorry for not saying it,” he sighs in comfort as you raise a brow at him, amused at just how quickly he managed to wrap thing ups purely out of guilt that he failed to reciprocate your intentions.

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

oh. well…you’ve must’ve had a reason, right?

you wouldn’t just leave right in the morning for a commission, tell him goodbye when he declared his love to you without you repeating the same routine back to him? right?

and yet, you did; and now diluc finds himself in the peculiar position of being overly worried. he has strength, power and stability beyond imagination, but without your affection as fuel, what use are those things?

staring back at the ticking clock continuously, the wet rag in hand helping him clean up some ink that spilled across his hands as a frustrated groan escaped him. what kind of man have you turned him into that he can’t even focus on important tasks merely because you didn’t say a few simple words?

maybe that’s where the problem lies. the words “i love you” always seemed simple to you, something that diluc can admit had found himself jealous of on occasion, so now that he’s absent from something so easy, it’s a little difficult to not overthink the possibilities that the phrase has become harder to swallow for you.

diluc nearly slams his head on his desk at such a thought. he can’t lose his mind over something so silly, it’s fine. you’re both fine.

taking another meandering glance at the clock, diluc’s chair scraped across the wood as he flung on his coat, brushing it clean as he sauntered downstairs with the most grumpy expression dawn winery has seen in a while.

“honey, why do you look so upset?” your sweet voice lured him back into sanity as diluc’s steps immediately calmed down, his eyes widening momentarily as you seemed to return much earlier than expected from your travels. shaking his head, diluc sighs, “it’s nothing, my love — let’s go out for dinner, is that all right?”

XIAO — 魈

not really a surprise, honestly.

xiao isn’t necessarily known for being a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky, super affectionate bunny and as much as he wishes he could just vocalise the song that plays in his heart whenever you meet his eyes, he’s unable to reciprocate your affections in a way that’s satisfactory.

you’ve grown to accept such a fact. xiao, on the other hand, hasn’t. it’s like a little itch for him that he can’t scratch but desperately wants to. doesn’t mean he won’t show his love in other more discreet ways.

there are the subtle things; like the way he ensures your favorite dish is always ready when you come over, how he lingers a bit longer during a goodbye hug almost as if he’s scared to let you go, or the times he’ll simply sit in comfortable silence with you (though, that is common), his presence a quiet yet powerful testament to his feelings.

sometimes, he leaves small tokens for you to find: a flower carefully placed on your doorstep, a hand-written note slipped into your bag that you can tell was written in a hurry due to how sloppy the handwriting looks, a charm he crafted himself hidden among your belongings that he specifically sought the guidance of zhongli from. it's in these gestures that his love for you shines through, even if the words remain unspoken.

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

there are times when xiao escapes his shell, and it’s in those quiet moments where you’re both completely alone without even the whistling of the wind to eavesdrop on you atop the comfortable slope of a mountain, that xiao verbally tells you how much he adores you. sometimes a little more poetically than intended, but he hopes his words pass through to you in the form of a flutter.

“…a vow as enduring as the sea and mountains,” xiao mumbled nervously, his hand awkwardly hovering over yours in hesitance before he sucked in a breath and decided to just give in and delicately interlock your fingers. watching as you tilted your head in confusion, xiao looked away and muttered again: “i meant that i love you.”

the silence and the little nod that followed, which was all meant as a little ploy to tease him for being so cute and flustered over a term you didn’t even need to hear on the regular, resulted in xiao’s chest to tighten anxiously. did you not feel the same way anymore? but then again, that devious smile of yours (which xiao could differentiate the style of pretty instinctively) made it certain there was a deeper meaning behind the quiet.

“it's alright," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you don't have to say anything. i just wanted you to know."

TARTAGLIA — 公子

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ petty petty petty, absolutely done out of pettiness and just being an overall ginger brat.

ʚ you forgot to say good morning immediately after you woke up? haha, what was your name again? aw, you walked passed him on your travels even though he deliberately came over to see you? guess he’s not paying for all your stuff today… (he will, just ask).

one morning, groggy and half-asleep, you stumbled out of bed, forgetting to meekly mumble your usual "good morning, my darling, i love you" as you got up for the day. it was a small and rather insignificant oversight, but not for childe.

later that day, as you wandered through the vibrant streets of fontaine, you spotted his unmistakable ginger hair approaching. waving and smiling at your beloved, expecting some sort of hyper response back, you awaited his towering presence with a hand on your hip. he walked right past you. full on. turning your head with furrowed brows and jaw hung low, you notice that little playful, shit-eating smirk on his lips.

a little confused, you called out to him, "ajax! come back here.”

he turned, feigning surprise despite clearly having seen you (and, unbeknownst to you, having been watching you for the past couple minutes as you checked out several vendors). "oh, it's you. i almost didn't recognize you."

rolling your eyes, you walked up to him. "seriously?” both of you stared at each other in scrutiny, tartaglia fighting back the urge to squeeze you within his arms and whine at you for your negligence while you fought the urge to pull him down by his sunlit strands to coax some sense out of him. “are you mad at me?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, eyes twinkling with mischief you recognised immediately. "hmm, who’s mad? i just forgot who you were for a moment." let’s not mention the fact he has your front, back and side silhouettes memorised to the point he could trace it with his eyes closed expertly.

when you both parted ways, tartaglia making up some excuse that he had to buy some souvenirs for his siblings despite you knowing full well he was just listening to your reprimand from a week ago that he needed respite from being brutalised repeatedly, you found yourself linking pieces of red yarn together internally.

oh he’s just such a little shit isn’t he?

the sun set and bedazzled the sky in golden red hues, you walked back to your shared accommodation and a hefty amount of apologetic snacks filling your bag. normally, when you opened the door, ajax would jump at you. it was obvious from the way he sat leaned back on the couch that he was biting back that urge too.

grinning, you approached him, feeling a mix of amusement and frustration. "you know i love you, right?"

he glanced at you, his expression softening for a moment, god he really missed you so much even if only parted for a few hours at most. "hmm, do you? because i don't recall hearing such a thing in the morning."

you laughed, shaking your head at his childishness. settling yourself next to him, arms encasing around his wounded torso, you muttered a little compromise: "alright, honey. tomorrow, first thing. i promise."

tartaglia finally relented, pulling you into a gentle embrace that led to him exhaling a breath he was holding (probably a subtle way to get his loud heart to stop beating so furiously). "good. i suppose i can forgive you this time.“

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ajax had disobeyed your orders again.

even when being repeatedly asked by friends and his own lover alike, he just couldn’t behave in a way that didn’t result in at the very least, a few scratches and bruises on his freckled skin. it irritated you to no end.

irritation, of course, led to frustration. i mean, when you have to regurgitate the same instructions to someone you adore to death, it becomes exhausting. you didn’t necessarily argue about it, you simply tuned off.

sitting in bed with a book cradled between your fingertips, a mellow tune humming in the background from your vinyl as you soaked in the fantasy you were thoroughly engaged in. none of those things could unfortunately deafen the whines from ajax as he cozied himself up next to you, a silent groan slipping past his lips as he incidentally tore at one of his bandages.

“kochanie…” his nose nuzzled against your clothes as he found himself laying on your warm thighs. “i already apologised for being a dumbass, i swear i love you and i’ll listen to you properly next time.”

he purses his lips into a pout as you ignore him and continue to scan your eyes over the ink. “come on, i love you, sweetheart.” he nudged you, pinching you as delicately as possible but enough to elicit a gasp from you as you finally glance over at him.

“and i love peace and quiet, so if you could, zip it.”

surely you don’t think that was a good enough response for someone as needy for attention as ajax?

“i’m so hurt…” he pitifully grumbled, arms crossing over his firm chest as he continued staring up at you with a gaze that meant “you are not getting out of this”.

“won’t even spare a small kiss for your wounded lover? a hug? a cuddle? even just a whisper of your voice? how am i meant to live—“ you hush childe’s antics by squishing his cheeks together, forcing a fish like pout to form with his lips.

“i love you too, you’re just annoying.”

he’d take that over you fully ignoring him any day.

K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ not possible, thank you next character.

ʚ the only possible way kazuha would ever not indulge your i love yous is when he’s away to a different nation and he sends you a response letter that takes weeks to come to your hands, or if that same letter somehow gets wet or ruined while in transit and his affections get dampened and smudged

ʚ otherwise? kazuha doesn’t see the point in stubborn behaviour. if there’s a problem, though there hardly ever is, he’s under the pretence a couple should talk about it with a clear mind before making a final decision or statement — or in this case, the retraction of affection.

ʚ you’re his map, with the treasure being your heart. why would he ever choose to not tell you he loves you when he gets the chance? you already lack sufficient time with another, and kazuha prefers using the time he does have with you to show you how much he adores you (whatever way that manifest as).

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

kazuha absolutely smothers you in his love. though that usually feels more like you’re resting within the comfort of a sandy beach as soft washes of waves tickle your skin. you’re never short of a supply of affection.

that’s why a devious idea popped into your head. what if you just didn’t reciprocate?

“my heart,” kazuha’s breathy voice popped the bubble that hung over your head. “you’ve been spaced out for a while now, do you need a kiss to help you refocus?” you had to stop yourself from jumping at the opportunity.

“uh, no it’s fine, you don’t have to,” the reply made kazuha raise an eyebrow quizzically. that’s certainly not something he expected to hear especially after not seeing you for a while; but, he’d respect your choice. it’s not like he’s desperate for something so simple, you could just genuinely not be interested.

“hm…alright then, beloved.” he smiled sincerely, head falling to rest on your shoulder as his hand gently rested on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles that mirrored the shape of the moon that cast a glow on you both. “i love you.”

he could’ve sworn he just said he loved you, so why did the winds bellow a response instead? coughing into his hand to clear his throat, thinking that perhaps you just didn’t hear him, he repeated: “i love you, songbird.”

met with silence again, kazuha simply stays quiet. he doesn’t need a reply, that’s not why he says sweet things to you like he’s writing a lyrical sonnet. he tells you he loves you because it helps write the song in his heart that beats whenever he’s near you in a much more coherent way.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ this man oozes with romantic appeal. even if he’s off voyaging to a whole other nation he’ll find a way to not only say i love you, but also to say his good morning and good nights (accompanied with poorly doodled attempts at kiss marks to make up for the lack of physical touch).

ʚ when he’s upset? gods no. he could be frustrated with you to the point he needs a break, and regardless he’ll leave the room with a reminder he loves you. he doesn’t need you getting second thoughts and therefore won’t ever plant them.

ʚ he’s too busy? so? thoma has two hands i’m sure he can handle giving you letters that are merely love notes while he cleans the abode (assuming you and ayato live together separately from where he works…you can imagine how much thoma despises this errand despite his loyalty).

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

“greetings, love,” ayato’s arms slid around your middle, chin coming to rest atop your shoulder as he hums a sweet tune as if he were a bird coming back home to his nest. a rather direct analogy, since that’s exactly the occurrence.

plagued with hours of paperwork and meetings with government issues and secret organisations that god forbid you or ayaka ever found out about, ayato has missed you gravely. if he didn’t know better he’d demand this sort of sin to be classified as a national crime with the sentence being told to stay home with your spouse all day (his literal dream).

now that he’s free for at least a little while, peace alas twinkling within his eyes as they close tightly to enjoy the silence as he clings onto you, ayato does feel like all the pain and ink he went through was totally worth it. if the price he had to pay for holding you oh so tightly is simply meaningless signatures on several documents, he’s willing to waste the entire supply of ink within inazuma — he wants this reward to last as long as possible, after all.

“mm, you smell divine, are you using the flower-scented perfume i sent you the other week? i love it,” he rambled, lips pressing against your nape as you busied yourself with some crocheting, ayato’s eyes opening only to focus on the way your deft hands moved so skilfully. he’d make a comment about how he wished those hands were on him instead, but he had a particular reputation to uphold — and lewd impatient man certainly wasn’t part of it.

“more importantly, sweetheart,” ayato cooed, beginning to trail kisses around your neck and any exposed skin he managed to find, “i love you. so, look at me won’t you?”

merely turning your head to plant a kiss to the side of his jaw in a way of compromise, you otherwise remained silent. “you know,” ayato smiled devilishly, his hand beginning to play with your hair soothingly. “i bought some stuff on my travels recently, a lot of things that are meant for you, of course.”

“i can’t wait to surprise you tonight during dinner.”

that was a threat. maybe not a direct one, but you could recognise the slyness in that man’s voice soon as he mentioned buying “stuff” — things that were definitely substitutes for poison (a little far fetched, but it’s best to assume whatever he conjures up will be the worst thing possible to save yourself the trip to a hospital bed).

“i love you too.” you appeased, and his face immediately lightened, arms returning around you as if finally satiated.

ayato huffs a stifled laugh, quelling your worries with a simple: “i’ll have the staff know you’d like your favourite dish prepared.”

ALHAITHAM — 艾尔海森

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ lowkey, it’s a bit of a 50/50 with him…?

ʚ sometimes, he just genuinely doesn’t hear you. whether it’s because he’s subconsciously disassociating, overstimulated from excessive noise (it’s pretty much canon that he’s autistic, you can’t give me a character that constantly wears headphones and only speaks when spoken to and expect me not to connect the dots) or simply because whatever’s playing in his ears was a little too loud and had managed to drown out your words — these specifics are never intended, and he’s more likely to reply back if you repeat yourself (or give him some time).

ʚ other times though, is simply him teasing you. remember that one scene at the end of the interdarshan festival where alhaitham said, “best things are told thrice” (or whatever the quote was), yeah he commits to that in this scenario too.

ʚ he’ll pretend he can’t hear you just so he can see the sweet frustration in your eyes as you mumble the words “i love you” through gritted teeth. he’ll smirk it off subtly and reciprocate…after a while of course. perhaps when you’re falling asleep on his chest once you’re finally cuddled in bed together, you’ll manage to catch his hushed whisper.

the world was intent on making alhaitham break down today. he woke up without you in bed with him this morning, meaning he couldn’t brush his teeth while next to you as he passed you things that you required to get ready to start the day. from that, none of the foods or snacks he liked were available and the only option were fruits or meals he didn’t like or he weren’t in the mood for.

already feeling irritated and grumpy, him nearly spilling a vase on the books he had perfectly stacked up to binge read as he bumped into the corner of the table could’ve made him bang his head brutally on the wall. this wouldn’t have been a problem if kaveh didn’t place something so fragile and wobbly on something that’s in the way.

alas, when he finally died down for the afternoon, book in hand, a melody passing by his ear as he tried to focus on breathing, all a sudden that irritation just slowly came creeping back. the words on the page squished together like some sort of cartoon from fontaine as they began to make no coherent sense even as he went over every line twice.

to make it worse? you had just come back home.

that sounds bad, but for alhaitham it was a travesty. now he wasn’t able to at the very least embrace you in greeting in fear he’d lash out at the sudden contact. noticing the scrunching of his brows and the way his jaw looked like he’d been clenching it subconsciously for hours, you smiled out of sympathy, knowing from experience that this was most definitely another case of the domino effect of bad shit happening.

“need me to leave you alone for a bit?” you asked as quietly as possible but in an octave he wouldn’t twitch at in frustration.

he shook his head. a little surprising, but you complied with his wish and sat down on the floor next to him as he laid back on the couch as if in an impromptu therapy session. alhaitham held out his hand for you and you gently but surely placed yours on top, a delicate reminder that he was free to express whatever was on his mind when the world finally felt a little more peaceful.

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

it’s not like alhaitham really says he loves you verbally, he prefers showing his love to you though actions. after all, actions speak louder than words — what’s the point of telling you he loves you if he doesn’t have the actions to back it up?

but for the sake of the scenario, let’s imagine alhaitham decides to spoil you with one his few vocal affirmations. his hands slowly running up and down the spine of your back, chest rising and falling in slow steady breaths as you burrow yourself into his side. alhaitham was reluctantly reading a romance book that you forcefully recommended him in hopes he’d learn a few things that would make you swoon (despite him doing plenty such things already).

“i love you.” he randomly blurts, his eyes clearly having scanned over the same phrase within the page he was on since he rather quickly skipped past it once your eyes caught glimpse of it. alhaitham is a confident, sometimes arrogant, man — nothing ever truly bothers him when in regards to the words or actions of other people unless they pose a threat to someone he loves.

however, in this case, your lack of words makes his brows scrunch down, bright teal eyes now scrutinising you as you clearly try to hide away a giggle. “don’t you think it’s a little rude to not reply to someone’s confession.” he asks in a monotone voice, attention returning to the words on the page that now seemed irrelevant.

“if you want me to be like the characters in your little romance stories, how about you also commit to that yourself?” a little harsh sounding, but when faced with alhaitham’s pettiness, this is probably the most lenient he’s ever been to anyone.

WANDERER — 流浪者

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ another one that’s not necessarily surprising.

ʚ he likes using the phrase to tease or slander you, if anything. case in point: “oh i love you alright, but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my blanket in the middle of the night.” or “i love you more when you keep completely silent."

“i’m convinced you don’t love me.” ah god, not another one of your little helpless spiels again. this sort of conversation starter would normally set of a warranted number of red flags. in this case, however, both of you understood it was more like the start of a theatrical display of your pettiness.

“right, and why’s that?” scara asked unamused, face not changing from his casual stoicism as he scanned over a possibly illegal book he snuck from the library (and if this conversation goes one way you might just tattle to auntie nahida).

“you slept on the couch yesterday even after i cooked your favourite dish and got you out of that lecture kusanali forced you to attend by pretending we had chores to do,” you list off your good deeds on your fingers, your body sinking next to his on the couch that seemed more like a partner in crime than just a piece of furniture.

scara rolled his eyes. licking the tip of his fingertip to turn the page on his book, he huffed a response absentmindedly: “i do love you, but you just keep pushing me off the bed because of my cooler temperature so i got annoyed — simple as.”

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

‘oh, so just fuck me i guess?’

it’s already so difficult for him to even admit how much he cares for you, so to have such a hefty phrase leave his lips and be left with silence? he’s a little more than pissed.

scara’s eyebrows crunched together, confusion written all over his face at the sudden change in your demeanor. you’re always the first to jump at the opportunity to coddle him soon as his sour lips turn sweet, so what’s with the sudden negativity? the hostile fire that once flickered in his eyes was now replaced by a mournful sadness, and scara couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at a stranger.

his chest tightened in a way that didn’t feel good, and he found himself swallowing thickly, eyes flicking downward to where your hands swirled an ice-filled glass. guilt nipped at scara’s conscience, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh.

“what did i fucking do wrong now?” he spits out.

scara tends to take even the slightest joke within your relationship as a direct threat or dig at him. not because he doesn’t trust you, not even because he thinks your relationship isn’t at a secure stage — but just because that’s all he knows. he doesn’t know how to respond to something lighthearted when all that he’s felt so far in his life is extremities.

“hm? what do you mean?” you ask, the teasing tone you took on dwindling upon the quick glance at how his bottom lip jutted out nervously. did everything have to be so irrevocably complicated?

scara shook his head, exhaling a small sigh before he just let the matter drop naturally. he didn’t have time for stuff like this. he’d like to think he knows you well enough to recognise when you’re simply teasing him, but that fact alone isn’t enough to make that ache in his heart go away.

he just needs a minute break. and perhaps for you to sneak into bed with him so you can cuddle him from behind.

LYNEY — 林尼

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

it’s a little difficult for lyney to say the words “i love you” to someone who’s not technically part of his family. he trusted and loved you easily, you cared for his siblings as if they were your own and even gave up your own pride to protect him; but something itching within him tells him he has no right to confess his true ardour.

lyney is nothing but a pawn with a jesters hat, using sleight of hand to remove the idea that he’s deceptive from your mind with a few whimsical flower tricks. it’s hard to allow himself to be so vulnerable and open when he knows full well that if his father found out, the disappointment would be greater than the reward.

when he’s coated in that black circus show getup, his smile broad and stance wide with confidence, he’ll reply pretty easily! after all, he had to please his audience. but, you’re not just a stranger in the crowd. you’re his beloved, someone he waits for before one of his grandeur shows as you press a kiss to his cheek as a lucky charm that he finds himself gently touching as he slowly enters the stage.

but when he’s merely lyney, a lonely kid from the house of hearth who trembles in the comfort of the dark, your mumble of: “i love you a lot, lyney,” makes him replywith a mere widened look as if a deer caught in headlights, his pale face blossoming into a rosey pink hue as he tugged down at the front of his hat to cover his eyes.

“me too.” sometimes that reply is easier and much safer for both his heart and yours than the actual words.

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

lyney adores how easily you find yourself saying such a phrase, even a little jealous at time at both the idea of how many people you’ve uttered it to and the fact he finds himself stumbling over his own consciousness at the idea of confessing his affections back.

he’s also a massive trickster! you pull silly and harmless pranks on each other constantly, from something dumb like switching out a singular chocolate chip cookie to a raisin one to see the astounded look on lyney’s face as he bites down to something a little more sweet like lyney throwing out roses to an audience that coincidentally create a heart.

this is certainly a much crueller prank than any of the above.

lyney was a little jumpy backstage, constantly pacing back and forth with a genuine smile on his face that you’ve rarely seen, his arms constantly stretching out in front of him as he played with the leather of his gloves tediously. lady furina was going to be watching him today, it was no wonder he wanted you to help out!

well, lynette did everything, but you’re here for something lyney said he absolutely couldn’t go without. his good luck kiss.

hearing the familiar sound of the staff shuffling around their props, lyney sauntered to you with a smile as his lips tucked behind his arms innocently. “ma moitié,” lyney hums in a chipper, melodic tune, content at simply seeing your face light up once your eyes meet his, “i’m confident in my abilities as a magician, but i think you have the answer to quelling any of my nerves. care to share some of your magic wit me?”

you grin and tilted your head off to the side, giving him an encouraging thumbs up and a much less motivating: “break leg, lyney, i believe in you.” as much as he wished to coax it out of you, he’d have to unfortunately settle for the way you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

yet, although he preformed flawlessly per usual, his execution even enthralling the ever critical furina who sat up in the crowd with a leg over her knee, you notice a slight hesitation in his movements, a brief moment of distraction that only you, who knows him so well, could catch. the show eventually concludes to thunderous applause, lyney and lynette taking their final bow as he nearly sprints off once the curtains draw closed.

backstage, as the crowd's cheers still echo faintly, lyney cautiously approaches you with a more serious expression. “[name],” he begins, his tone quieter, more introspective, “did I... do something wrong?”

who knew just the slight lower pitch of someone’s voice could make your heartstrings tug unceremoniously. you know it's time to end this silly prank. shaking your head, you take a step closer. “no, lyney. you were incredible, as always — lady furina seemed exceptionally impressed.” his breath catches in his throat — that’s not really what he wanted to hear. but before he could brush it all off, you interrupt his overthinking: “and... I love you too.”

his eyes widen in surprise, then soften with relief and warmth. “you really had me there,” he chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “you're quite the trickster yourself.”

you laugh, hugging him back tightly. “i learned from the best.”

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ for neuvillette it’s less about him not saying i love you, but just how convoluted and complicated he can make it seem.

ʚ whether it’s by using outdated poetry and reciting it to you without the knowledge that the terms used completely flew over your head because they’re so old, or doing something that to him is basically more intimate than physical touch like gifting you a piece of jewellery that’s imbedded with a stone most certainly toxic to humans (he got it out of a rift from khaenri’ah when it first emerged and kept it as a little token).

ʚ this man is a dragon, he’s older than the snowy mountains of dragonspine and the deadly primordial sea itself…you can’t blame him for being a little bit over the top and traditional with how he says he loves you.

ʚ it’s all courting tactics! isn’t this what you humans enjoy? no? …maybe he should ask lady furina if she has some plays from the romance genre she’d care to share, perhaps then he could learn a much more modern way of showing his affections.

ʚ he’ll say he loves you if you vocalise you’d just prefer that but…are you sure you don’t also want this embarrassingly cute cup he made to match his dragon form?

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

the more he thinks about it, the sadder he gets. and the sadder he gets, the rainier the heavens become. neuvillette’s pen shifted between several of his fingers as the paragraphs in front of him shifted and blurred continuously.

you didn’t reply to his i love you this morning. straight after waking up he mumbled the sweetest, “i love you,” directly into your ear with that rumbling voice of his, letting his affections linger on your skin as his nose snuggled itself safely against your neck.

and what did he get in response? a small giggle and a, “should we get ready?”

at first, he merely internalised it as a mere misstep on your part. perhaps you merely didn’t hear him, you had just woken up after all you must’ve been feeling a little groggy. that managed to ease his nerves just a little, but soon as you closed the door to his office without a chance for another i love you, he slumped into his seat with defeat.

you humans are tricky creatures and scarily good at making other overthink things that someone should be most confident on.

just the idea that he might’ve done something to upset you enough for you to not want to love him so dearly as you normally do makes the skies weep to match the mourning in his heart. you best come back this instant with your arms wide open unless you want fontaine to flood over.

he may be one of the strongest beings currently alive and awake in the land of teyvat, but his heart is rather fragile when it comes to you.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

much to the dismay of wriothesley, he rarely even gets to say he loves you. between managing the fortress of meropide and his countless responsibilities that range from being a guinea pig for sigewinne’s new test trials that she calls food to ridiculous requests from inmates, expressing his feelings often takes a backseat.

you, of course, understand his position, but it doesn't stop you from sending him love letters whenever you can. your letters are filled with warmth, affection, and little anecdotes about your day, hoping they bring a smile to his face during his busy hours — and they certainly do, he adores tracing your handwriting with the back of his gloved hand.

unfortunately, your letters piled up on his desk without being read. despite him desperately wanting to respond to every little i love you, he found himself way too preoccupied with other immediate matters that required his thorough attention. every time he’d open up his drawer to find a new pen to fill out a document with, he’d shamefully glance at the stack of unread papers that were littered with hearts.

each letter was one a piece of your heart — him stashing it away protectively would be a little romantic and rather ironic given his profession, but currently it felt more like he was actively giving you the sentence of a lifetime by withdrawing his affections.

no reply comes for days.

you understand that his duties are overwhelming, but a part of you yearns for some acknowledgment, a sign that your words are reaching him. however, wriothesley is determined to rectify this, he sat down at his desk after the first calm night in a while, pulls out a sheet of paper, and begins to write.

what you receive the next day isn’t necessarily anything grandiose or swooningly romantic — but it was enough; a large bouquet of your favourite roses with a special heart shaped note attached that when you latched it off simply read: “i love you too, sweetheart.”

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

alas, wriothesley finally managed to carve out a free day just for you. spending the day together ultimately meant either a completely lazy morning filled with sloppy kisses shared and your warm bodies all tangled within blankets, or a date where you bask in each other’s presence.

this time, you chose the latter. you needed a little bit of a pick me up and what better than having a romantic outing with your beloved? …where you simultaneously wished to entertain yourself with a bit of mischief. who could get away with teasing the mighty duke if not you?

a day of activities left you a little exhausted, which is why wriothesley decided to share the last few setting hours of the sun by sitting on a comfy blanket near an empty, secluded beach far from the usual hustle and bustle of fontaine.

"thank you for being so patient with me," wriothesley said, his voice low and sincere. "i know it's not easy, but you mean a lot to me."

you reached out and squeezed his hand. "aww, i understand, wrio. i’m honestly just happy we get to spend time together like this at all.”

bringing your interlocked hands up to his lips, his calloused and rough ones ridden with scars and marks that told stories of their own holding yours as if made of porcelain, he pressed a few gentle kisses to your knuckles as he mumbled a sincere: “i love you, [name].”

ah the very words you’ve been waiting to drawl from his lips. stifling a chuckle, you simply smiled and nodded, letting your hand wiggle away from his grasp as your focus drifted to stare at the crashing waves cleansing the shore.

wriothesley's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "did you hear me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. "i said, i love you."

you nodded again, keeping your expression neutral. “i heard you."

his confusion turned into amusement as both his brows raised in disappointment — were you seriously teasing him right now? wriothesley leaned in appetisingly close, searching your face for a clue for your intentions. "and?" he prompted.

swallowing down another fit of giggles, you titled your head at him all coyly, “and what?”

wriothesley puffed out a chuckle before his skilled hand quickly swooped beneath your knees and atop the small of your back to land you on his lap. “do you think you’re funny?” his muscular and scarred arms closed around your middle, keeping you firmly in place to face your trial.

“a little,” you muse before lifting yourself a little within his grasp, moving in to press a more than welcomed kiss on his cheek. “i love you too, wrio.”

“that’s what i thought.”

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

꒰ her not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ʚ arlecchino loves you, she really does. but unfortunately for you, you’re not the age of the orphaned children she protects and therefore she finds it useless to constantly reassure you of such a fact.

ʚ surely if you want her to prove how much she loves you, you’d be less childish with it and simply ask for a real heart to be displayed in a glass box? she’s kidding (perhaps), but given the nature of your dynamic, she’s sure you’ve said the words “i love you” in this relationship enough to cover her half of the bargain.

“arle, i love you,” you muse, buzzing around her desk like a never satiated mosquito. yet instead of sucking blood you merely made her wish she had the heart to plug her ears to silence your relentless affection spillage. she wouldn’t dare. but for the love of the tsaritsa won’t you be good and just sit on her lap and remain quiet?

“arlechinnoo…” another whine as you carefully sit yourself on her desk, her pen quickly brushing over lines, the ferocity at which she held it made the point look as if she was scabbing the paper.

“yes, bunny?” she looked off to the side at you, her expression holding an air of royalty that was most likely non existent in her blood, but definitely seemed present in the way she held herself. maybe it was just that natural posture of arrogance?

“i love you…won’t you love me back?”

“my dear,” she placed the pen down and got up, a sight that made the two informants that stood opposite of the room with their heads hung low nervously hunch into themselves. she sauntered to you and encased your body against the edge of the desk, hands on either side of you.

“you’re surely irritating our guests with your constant noise,” that crestfallen expression of yours was something she wished she could wipe, but that sinful, pyre of pride burned within her like vengeance, making her merely tap her hand over your cheek to refocus your forlorn attention.

soon as you tilted your head, her hot breathy whisper mumbled against your ear: “stay quiet and i’ll be sure to spoil you.”

꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

“i’ve been issued another task within fontaine, do keep yourself out of trouble even though i have little hope you’ll commit,” arlecchino teasingly mused as she nudged your hip with hers while fixing her coat. “i love you, dear — i’ll be sure to send you letters.”

arlecchino is eerily fond of the silence that came after deafening screams. the scarlet stickiness that spreads across her grim face in splatters making her instinctively lick off that sweet residue. but right now, the silence was just a testament to how good she’s been treating you.

if you think you can get away with a silly prank like this as she’s awaiting your response like a puppy begging for a bone, you must’ve forgotten who has the collar and who has the leash.

catching your chin between her thumb and forefinger, she tilts your face upwards to meet her intense stare, stern eyes blazing with naked hunger. "i asked you to not cause trouble while i’m gone, but you’ve already decided to start, have you?”

most people would crumble beneath her shimmering eyes that spoke volumes of violence, yet deeply within your own heart you know she’d carry you over mountains of skulls that crushed beneath her callous heels if it meant getting you across into fairyland.

“admit it - you crave me just as fiercely as i burn for you." she grins before flicking your forehead with her clawed fingertips. “don’t make me repeat myself or you won’t be getting any gifts from me when i return.”

that’s the real threat you were waiting for. leaving a featherlight goodbye kiss atop her lips, you smartly respond: “i love you too, and don’t forget my favourite cake!”

she rolls her eyes, finally letting you go. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[dearsnow]

TAKE A BITE

- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, ⚠️ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, I’M BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)

word count: 3,033

a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once 😚 i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope it’s satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3

“So…” Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, “because no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,” there’s a pointed glance at you, “I propose a challenge.”

Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. “What are you thinking?” She asks.

Kaiya’s manicured nail taps on the table. “We each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the bar— first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone that’s successful gets next week’s drinks paid for by the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes. She’s a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. “Are you sure you aren’t just doing this because you don’t want to pay for yourself?”

Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. “I would never! I just want what’s best for my dear friends.” She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. She’d also have no problem taking her pick.

“I want that one.” Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, he’s exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.

Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. “Buzz cut. I like that in a man.” You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.

“And you?” Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why you’re her friend in the first place.

She’s always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over what’s in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.

You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. You’re about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. He’s exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.

Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. “Let’s get them, tigers.”

“Alright,” You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, “I’ll take a bite.”

You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. “Could I have one of those, please?” You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.

“You have good taste.” Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.

“So do you.” You respond simply. “What’s your name?”

“Jake, but if one of those idiots asks, it’s Hangman.” He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? “I saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, you’re more my type. Not that they aren’t nice girls.”

You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. “You’re my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but he’s not so bad.”

His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. It’s a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but you’re warming up; you just got out of a relationship for god’s sake.

“Trust me, sugar, however good you think he is, I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink.

You’re drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, he’s done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.

“You’re that confident, hm?” You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up… you almost melt at the idea. “I think you’re going to have to prove it.”

He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. “I’ll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.”

Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you don’t recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.

If you’re being totally honest, he’s a really good dancer. And it’s so hot, unbearably so. He doesn’t step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.

“How’s this for proof?” He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “Rooster’s got moves, but he isn’t half as good as me.”

You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. “Now I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?” You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.

“I got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldn’t be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.”

Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. “Buy me a drink and we’ll see how that works out.”

To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. It’s like he’s hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldn’t make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.

To say he’s beyond saving is an understatement in Jake’s opinion. With every second that goes by, you’re sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. It’s like a match made in heaven.

As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?

He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. “Shall we?”

Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, he’s been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.

The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. “I have something to admit.” You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.

“Lay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.” He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that you’ve been meaning to cut for a few days now.

“I made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then they’d pay for my drinks next time.” You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.

He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. “Well, we wouldn’t want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?”

You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. You’re biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. They’re gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thigh— anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.

Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. “You sure?” He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. “With your words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.

Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldn’t care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.

He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. He’s hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.

“That good?” He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.

He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. “Patience. I’ll give you what you want eventually, don’t worry.” His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.

“Now, Jake, please.” You almost whine. It’s embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, he’s kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. “I want what I want now.”

It’s amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jake’s roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. You’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’, and I’m not one to refuse.”

His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. “That excited?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. “Get on with it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. “Yes ma’am.”

He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts. “Might take you a bit to get used to me.” He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you can’t reach yourself. He’s bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.

A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. “Please.” You squeak.

He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. “Well excuse me for trying to give you a good time.” His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.

“We can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.

“I’m guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?” He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. “Ah, you’ve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.” His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.

“I like to be prepared.”

“Might as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. You’ll only want mine when I’m done with you.” He’s so cocky it’s funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.

“Prove it.” You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says he’s going to prove it more than once, over and over until you’re begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, you’re suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever felt, and despite how wet you’ve become, it’s a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.

“You bit off more than you can chew, didn’t you?” Jake teases. “We can stop if you want, just say the word.”

Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. “Keep going. I can take it.”

He doesn’t know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once he’s completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.

He’s pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.

You’re panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jake’s neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. “Jake, I’m- I’m gonna…” you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.

“Go for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. It’s overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.

Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.

You sit up, taking his face in your hand. “You’ve proved it. Oh, and I’m officially tonight’s lucky winner.” You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.

“You were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.” He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. “Just let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.”

“In your dreams, cowboy. The most you’ll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.”

He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.”

You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. “Is that a promise?”

“Sure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Taglist: @seitmai

[dollfacefantasy]

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ Puppy-lovin' ♡

A/N: Oh my goodness this took me FAR TOO LONG!!!! Commission of headcanons for my lovely sunshine anon, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE MY DARLING!!!

Even more headcanons of puppy hybrid and Leon shenanigans!!!

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, grumpy ol' man Vendetta Leon, Leon is referred to as daddy! lots and lots and LOTS of fluff!!! Headcanons!!!

Word count: 3,250 approx.

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

What is his biggest pet peeve that she does? (Ik he's obsessed with her HAHA but he  i s  still a grump at times, after all)

TEETHING. That sweet fluffy baby chews on ANYTHING she can get her little canines on. Food and water bowls, toys, chair legs, trashcans, clothes, towels, shoes. Leon has to sit you down and explain that yes you do have very pretty chompers and yes the hybrid vet said they were very healthy and you were a good girl for brushing them on your own but that doesn’t mean you have to PROVE A POINT WITH SAID TEETH!!!! SAVE IT FOR THE SQUEAKY TOYS!!!!! HIS COMBAT BOOTS DID NOT DESERVE THAT GNAWING!!!!!!

I also feel like her whimpering might sometimes get to him?? Depending on his mood. Like making dinner? Whimper. He’s in the bathroom? Whimper. Reading files? Whimper. Tv without her? Whimper. Broken record. His puppy just wants to be around him any time she can because that’s her daddy obviously, and he loves her to bits, but sometimes the man just wants to take a piss alone! We’re talking he gets a few fingers gently bapping at the gap between the floor and the door out of curiosity with mixed whines, or sometimes he has to keep it open a crack so you can hold his hand as he goes. You’re so damn lucky he loves you and that thumping tail of yours.

“Listen, listen, a man has the right to pee in peace. My puppy says otherwise, okay?” -Likely said by Leon as he’s laughing to one of his coworkers about your behaviour. 

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

What's something that'll make him go "Who did this, hm?" And she's like- anxiously wags,,,, like when dogs know they're guilty n stuff 😭

ONCE MORE THE CHEWING!!!! I also feel like she can’t be trusted with porcelain or glass for obvious reasons (cough cough Picture Perfect fic cough) so if he does let her eat with him at a table or anything it’s gotta be plastic. One time she’s wanting to be helpful and get him a glass of water as they’re winding down for the night, he came home from a long tedious day of work, and on her way to the faucet she’s still so excited about him being back that she completely forgets she is in fact holding a glass. When it hits the floorboards it’s instant chaos, babygirl’s sitting there staring at the shards like ‘uh oh uh oh uhohuhoh-’ and not knowing what else to do she puts a pillow over it. Because yeah honey, he’s totally gonna think that's perfectly normal.

So obviously when Leon finds it, seeing the pieces collected in a neat little pile under a cushion, he’s giving a call. 

“Sunshine. C’mere a second, baby.”

And you toddle your way in with that tail slightly tucked, not making eye contact. Oh he already knows what’s going on, you’ve never been very good at lying.

“Y’know, it’s funny sweetheart. I come home from a long day of work, have an amazing dinner with my favourite girl in the world, take a nice hot shower and start getting ready for bed. But right as I’m turning the lights off, I find this.” He gestures rather pointedly to the cushion atop the glass shards. 

“And I’m thinkin’, hm, that’s odd. So I pick it up, and look at what’s hiding under it.” Picking it up by a corner of the casing, he makes sure to add an over dramatic gasp. “Broken glass! Isn’t that the strangest thing, puppy? I mean, what are the odds?” His broad shoulders shrug as if he himself can’t believe this ‘totally random’ sequence of events leading to a pile of glass ‘randomly’ appearing under a pillow. “You wouldn’t happen to know who did this, now would you honey?”

You’ve got your cute butt planted on the floor by now, looking up at him rather pitifully. Staring from beneath your lashes, tail slowly wagging back and forth across the hardwood, ears pressed back. 

When you do finally speak, it’s a mumble of “I was getting you water n’ I forgot…”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You.. forgot? You forgot what, sweetpea?”

“...Forgot I was holding the glass..”

Oh his heart just melts. You’re an angel, a bit of a dummy at times, but such an angel. Leon can only shake his head with a chuckle, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “My sweet, silly girl. Let’s get this cleaned up then, alright?”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Do you think Leon will have his days where he needs space from her from a difficult mission/assignment?

It’s a 50/50 depending on how hard the mission was. If we’re talking like freshly Vendetta Leon then definitely. He’s just so mentally drained, sometimes he just needs to have a minute to fall face first into bed, lay there for a couple of hours. He’ll leave to go to the bathroom and hear your paws padding after him but he just doesn’t have the energy to do anything more then pet you as he goes to grab another drink from the fridge. Sometimes alcohol, sometimes soda. It depends on how shitty he’s feeling, how much he wants to torture himself.

Sometimes you sit at the door with a meek whimper and swishing tail, at first confused as to why he’s so down. Pawing at the wood grain like the poor dumb girl you are, missing your favourite person and just wanting to be there with him. From time to time you crawl up into bed next to him, slipping under his arm to lay your face in the crook of his bicep, often to receive a gentle pet. “I just need a second, puppy. You’re my good girl, though.”

A few times you’ve asked him why he gets like that, why he seems to sink back into himself, and he just sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y’know how you get upset after the vet, cause they prod at your teeth with the nasty tasting gloves and you have to get your shots?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well sometimes Daddy gets like that after a really really hard day at work.”

“..If I put a Hello Kitty bandaid on it and..” You scrunch your little nose in thought, “..buy you a stuffie for being brave will you feel better?”

And he just chuckles fondly, giving your hair a gentle ruffle. God, you’re too sweet. “Maybe baby, maybe.”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Do you think he'll get better with the drinking with her around, or do you think he still drinks? I imagine that she's not a fan, if he still does!

He definitely tries his best to at least cut down on the drinking, but I doubt he’s entirely sober since - well, it’s Leon - but he really doesn’t feel the need to sometimes. Usually when something shitty goes down he instantly goes for the bottle, but now? Now it takes a lot more to drive him into that spiral. 

Most of the time when his depression hits it’s like you sense it, call it that puppy instinct, and you’re toddling your way over to lay your head on his knee and whimper. He tries not to get too drunk, he knows you hate it. How he sways and scruffs at your hair sometimes a little too hard. But he’s trying. Tries to substitute the shitty burning taste of whiskey with spicy foods as an alternative, or punish himself through tonic water only to look like an angry cat once the glass is finished. Anything other than alcohol if he can stomach it.

Because he doesn’t want you to remember him as someone who drank all the time, he wants you to remember how on the bad days he opened his arms to you and let you lay atop his chest as his own personal weighted blanket. How despite how he used to snap and draw away from everyone, how he’d shoot whiskey like it was water, you coming into his life made it all feel so much easier.

He wants you to remember that you made it easier. You made it better.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When she gets in trouble, what is it for? And is there any form of "punishment" or "grounding"? 

Timeout is HUGE, I don’t think he’d have the heart to actually ground her. One bat of those big babydoll eyes and he has to remind himself NOT to cave. The only thing he can’t do is take her toys away, that would eat the big guy up inside AND out, he knows how much you adore your stuffies and squeakies. 

Usually it’s just lockup time in her pen to sit and think about what she did, doing his best to ignore the pitiful sound of your whines of guilt. He knows you hate timeout, but he doesn’t really know how else to punish you! That or taking away your weekly movie night until you behave, which means no 2 or so hours of uninterrupted cuddle time on daddy’s lap, which is worse than a jail sentence in your opinion. 

The cone of shame has yet to be used, same for muzzles. You’ve cut it pretty close a few times with any of the ladies who stick around and talk to him too long though! He had no clue his sweet sunshine baby had a knack for nipping at ankles.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Does she beg for food, and if so, how does Leon go about dealing with it?

BIG puppy dog eyes at the table, sitting at his feet. Sometimes he caves, because duh, you’re his baby. But Chris keeps saying he needs to be more stern so he tries and tries and TRIES. But you have those HUGE glossy blinkers on blinky mode up at him, and your tail is swish swish swishing happily against the wooden grain and you just look so ready to get a little bite of whatever he’s got and who is he to deny you? You who wakes him up with kisses and cuddles, who trots along behind him everywhere he goes. You sit at the window and wait for him to get home from work for god’s sake, surely a little piece of food is nothing, right?

He’ll do it cause he loves you, other times cause he wants to see how you’ll react. One time you gave him the puppy stare for a lick of the hot sauce he got to go with his wings, which was a moment of instant regret on your end. Leon had to bite back the biggest smile with an “Is it good, baby?” Watching you smack your lips and tongue with a scrunched up face and furrowed eyebrows. Shaking your head around and yapping as if the taste was a personal attack on you.

Sometimes you even get fancy with it, padding from leg to leg at his feet, doing little spins out of excitement for whatever tasty morsel he’s about to drop into your mouth. I mean c’mon, how is he supposed to resist it?

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

How does he interact with her in his depressive states, and how does she comfort him?

You 100% believe he needs a stuffie. So you’re dropping your toys in his lap with big wet eyes and a slow swaying tail. It has to make him feel better, right?

Leon has two main moods when he’s in his depressions. ‘I’ve ruined everything, no one come near me.’ And ‘I’ve ruined everything, please don’t leave me alone.’ Swinging between these moods like an unstable seesaw, but he just can’t bring himself to pull you down with it. Who is he to look you in the eye and tell you to go away, when all you want to do is help? You’re not a bad girl, not a bad dog, so why should he lecture you on behaviour that comes as natural to you as breathing? Your kindness and need to ensure he’s as happy as you are, it’s practically built into your little puppy brain. Because he’s your daddy, and you love him. 

So he tries his hardest. He lays on the couch for his usual hour of slumping but keeps an eye out for a swishing tail, an ear out for any little whimpers. You’re climbing into his lap, crawling all over him to put your weight on him, cuddling up like a plush toy. 

And he wraps his arms around you silently, letting you be his anchor.

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When she asks to come with him to work, how does he respond? (Bc obvi she can't come fight bioweapons with him,,)

Sometimes he’ll take her when he has desk duty and Hunnigan just MELTS she LOVES your sweet little tailed self. But other times either he has to call Becca and Claire over to babysit you, cause there’s no way that he can leave his poor sweet girl at home alone! And you whimper and whine the whole time but it’s either that or coax you to go to the DSO before Claire comes to pick you up after the work day is finished.

Like how is he supposed to look at you and go ‘no baby you can’t go with daddy to work because daddy shoots bugs and-’ 

BUGS? YOU LOVE BUGS!!!! BUGS DESPISE YOU SO YOU’LL BE SO GOOD ON BUG DUTY!!!!

“I know puppy, I know. But daddy’s going in a biiiiiiig metal bird, and I know you love to chase birds so I can’t take you with me. Cause what if you bite the bird too hard, huh? Then daddy can’t buy you new toys! Can’t have that happening, sunshine. So, how about this. You can sit at daddy’s desk next to miss Hunnigan and when I talk to her over the little ear phone she can pass it over to you and you can have a chat with me. Is that okay? Yeah?”

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

How does he react when she catches things for him, like bugs or something? (he def didn't ask her to LOL) I feel like she'd be eyeing a moth or something and be like omg a present for daddy :33 (she has good intentions fs)

That man honestly gets a leaf bug or moth at his feet once a month. A little half chewed, he saw you spitting out tufts of wing a few minutes ago so he can guess that’s why. You’ve always been a jumper, pouncing and bouncing around the yard or when he takes you for walks. So it’s no wonder you started up this habit.

“Yes- yes baby, I know you got it just for me and- mhm. Mhm I do love it honey but I just think- And I’m so proud of you for hunting it all on your own but sweetpea how about instead you bring me.. I don’t know, fuck- wait don’t say that word. Hm. I don’t know leaves you find interesting.”

Stupid man. Dumb dumb idiot man. Next thing he knows there’s a small collection of leaves lined up at the back door. He’s gotta figure out an alternative and fast, boy. 

Has he ever had to bandage her up bc she did something dumb that he warned her not to do? 😭

That girl’s mortal enemy is anything that like, rears up at her. Praying mantises, spiders, grasshoppers, wasps and bees. If it moves, and it moves in a way that she perceives as a threat, it will be bapped with her hand.

“Hey- hey woah woah woah woah woah- easy there, tiger.” He’s scooping you up off the grass as you’re growling and yapping at whatever insect has made the mistake of buzzing too close to his sweet girl. “That’s a praying mantis, baby. If one of those big claws gets you, it’s gonna scare the sh- ahem, it’s probably gonna spook you.”

Five minutes later when he sets you back down he hears a startled yelp followed by you scampering around the backyard waving your face back and forth. Yeah he should’ve expected that. Watching as you finally flick the bug away with a huff of disapproval, which is followed by a very overdramatic whimper in Leon’s direction. Obviously need of love and affection after such a traumatic experience. Nothing a bit of antiseptic and plenty of well placed kisses won’t fix.

SO many scrapes. Bee stings, ant bites, mosquito bites, scratches and bruises from bouncing around the yard and house. He had to buy the Sanrio bandaids to patch you up or you refused to sit still. Thankfully your new favourite thing is barking at the other hybrids on the tv, an activity that WON’T result in several bruises. Maybe an earache or two, perhaps a sore throat, but hey, that’s better than box upon box of bandaids. 

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

When he wants her inside, and she does that one excited play pose (you know the one HAHA), does he entertain it, or does he know better to just go inside because she'll follow? LMAO

You’re padding your way around through the grass of the backyard, tail high and wagging proudly. You’d been very successful in your burying of a bone, planting your own little territory outside the house, and because of that success a buzz ran through your body. Being the jitterbug you were with a case of the zoomies coming on, you gave your ears a shake out when Leon’s whistle was heard.

“Puppy? C’mon, babygirl. It’s getting dark.”

But you were just getting started! Maybe you could convince him, after all if puppies had to listen to their daddies, surely daddies had to listen to their puppies right? That’s, like, the law. And you still have so much energy!

So, ever the bouncy pup you are, you crouch down into ‘the pose’. Everyone knows which one. The one you pull when you’re telling another hybrid you wanna play, the half bow with you eyes locked on him and a fast wagging tail.

“Baby- no. Oh, don’t give me that face..” Leon runs a hand over his face with a long sigh, biting back a smile with all the teeth he can manage.  

But you’re giggling with that big grin on your face, hands braced like paws against the grass and ears perked up expectantly.

“Honey..no. Now-

As soon as he takes a step towards you, no matter how small it is, you’re jumping in a little circle with happy yaps. Next thing he knows you’ve got the zoomies, and you’re bounding your way through the freshly-clipped lawn. All he can really do is lean against the outside wall and wait for you to run out of energy, arms crossed with a grin on his face. IIt doesn’t last too long thankfully, a few bounces, a couple of spins and you’re trotting over to him panting. He watched the whole thing, your tail wagging a gazillion miles an hour each time you hopped, skipped, and jumped. You always found endless ways to entertain yourself outside, Leon really didn’t know how you did it. 

 And yeah, it was getting dark out, but it was only a few minutes more of watching his sweet girl bound around happily, he’d only really try to rouse on you if it was for your safety. But right now? As your big eyes watch fireflies fill the backyard’s air, pawing weakly up at them between giggles, he knows it’s worth it. 

₊˚⊹ 𐂯

Like my work? Consider buying me boba!

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

blue butterflies

pairing: jackson! joel miller x reader

cws/tags: 1st person pov joel, angst, discussions of sex trafficking/sexual assault, death, mild smut, au where nothing bad happens between ellie and joel, author has not played tlou 2 yet (donate to kofi lmao), guns, alcohol consumption, light enemies to lovers, cordyceps works different in this one (more predictable and slower-acting)

summary: joel's letter to reader

a/n: i watched the beginning of tlou (joel playing guitar) and it made me cry so hard. so, this is inspired by that, but also i listened to funeral by arcade fire and for emma, forever ago by bon iver while writing this. neighborhood #4 (7 kettles) by arcade fire makes me cry so hard.

wc: 5.7k

taglist: @gothcsz @harriedandharassed @withonly-sweetheart

thank you to @jennaispunk for beta reading/proofreading !

join my taglist | purchase a commission

divider is from @danowh0re

playlist for fic: required listening!!

I thought therapy was a bunch of bullshit - a scam at worst, a waste of my time at best. But, since you left us, Tommy’s been making me go. He keeps saying, ‘it’s what she would’ve wanted’, and I think it is. But, that doesn’t mean I like it. 

My therapist told me if I’m not gonna talk to her about my past, I should at least talk to someone. I told her I’d talk to you, if you were here. She told me it was a good idea, that I should write it out in a letter. She told me I could write to you, or to Sarah, but I figured I’d better write to you ‘cause there’s some things a daughter shouldn’t hear about her dad. Even - especially - the most fun times he’s had. I’ll get to those later. 

Did you know I hated you when we first met? I never told you, but I think you knew. I thought you were a self-important, entitled bitch who acted like she’d been through hell when I knew she hadn’t because of how well-adjusted she seemed. I thought you had some sort of unearned valor. I know that’s not the right way to put it. I think the word I’m looking for is ‘respect’. Tommy, Maria, even Ellie were so quick to respect you when I had to earn it. 

“The reason people don’t like you is because you’re an asshole,” you told me. “You’re fucking scary when you’re mad, too.”

“What’s that saying? It’s better to be feared than to be loved?”

“That’s what Machiavelli said, but that doesn’t mean he’s right.”

I think he was wrong. I was jealous of how much everyone loved you, and they didn’t love me because they feared me. You were so fucking right, and that was one of the things that I hated most about you. 

I used to think about how young you were in comparison to an old man like me, how you were only a little younger than Sarah would’ve been, and how stupid I would’ve felt if Sarah was always outsmarting me. Until I remembered all the times that Sarah did just that, and how much I loved her for it, rather than in spite of it. (Note to self: tell Sarah this in your letter to her). 

That’s not to say I loved you, not yet. I did love you, but I realized that a little later. I had to learn to like you first. 

Do you remember our first day out on patrol together? I begged Tommy to change my schedule. I would rather have spent my time with anyone else in the community -- Hell, I would’ve asked Tommy to give you a day off if it’d get me out of having to work alongside you. 

You overheard me talking to Tommy, and said to me, “You could at least wait until I’m out of earshot to bitch about me, you know?”

“I know,” I said. 

And we didn’t talk for almost the whole shift. Well, I didn’t talk, but you kept on talking, almost like you were talking to yourself. You didn’t even care that I was ignoring you. 

“It’s okay. I don’t like people either.”

“Who says I don’t like people?”

“Your face, your voice, basically your whole demeanor.”

You were so honest, and you had every right to be. It shut me right back up again. I don’t know if that’s what you wanted. Maybe you thought provoking me would make me talk, but I’m a stubborn, old asshole. I don’t think you need me to tell you that.  

“What did I do to piss you off?” You asked, after I gave you what you viewed as the silent treatment, and what I saw as peace and quiet. 

“Nothing. I just think you’re a little bit... egotistical.”

“So are you. You think you know everything.”

“No, but I know more than you. You haven’t got half the experience I have, and believe me, kid, you don’t want it.”

“You’re so melodramatic. And for what? Has the brooding bad boy behavior gotten you laid yet?”

For your information, yes, it had absolutely gotten me laid.  

But before I could tell you that, you stopped me, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “and by the way, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tell me, then.”

“Tell you what?”

“About all the horrors you’ve experienced. If I’m so wrong, then prove it.” I challenged you because I thought you wouldn’t be able to come up with anything. I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known what I do now. 

You were so angry that you laughed at me. “Fuck you. You don’t deserve to know shit about me.”

A couple weeks later we knew each other’s whole life stories. I told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else, more than I think I ever will tell anyone else. It started when we got lost in the woods together. We were arguing as usual, and we only got ourselves even more lost. The sun was starting to go down, and I could see it in your eyes - you were getting scared. Maybe, for a second, I took some sort of satisfaction in knowing that you were the one who couldn’t handle it, but I’m still human - it feels a little cruel saying that now - so I wasn’t gonna let you suffer. 

“It’s not gonna do us any good to keep arguing, so can we agree to drop it?”

“Truce,” you said, holding out your hand, and when I shook it, you added, “but let it be known that you surrendered.”

“Don’t push it. You know if we stay out here long enough that we have to resort to eating each other’s flesh, you’re gonna be my dinner, not the other way around.”

“I hope I taste good.” 

You did, baby. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. 

I think we had our first date that night. Sort of. It was late when we got back. Most people were asleep, and the bar was closed, but you had the key. 

“Tommy gave you a spare key?”

“Uh-huh. I assumed you had one too, but I guess I’m the favorite.”

“You’re prettier than me. Of course, you are.” 

I still can’t believe I said that -- I wasn’t even drinking yet. I can be a real idiot when I’m talking to a beautiful woman. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You looked very pretty when you bothered to wash your hair last week.”

“I wash my hair, okay? Sorry I’m old and don’t wake up looking like a supermodel.”

“Who does?”

“I know you want me to say ‘you’, but I’m not taking the bait.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re thinking it, and that’s what matters.”

I was thinking much more than that, darling. 

You walked behind the counter, and asked me, “what do you drink?”, and I think that was the moment I knew I liked you. You could’ve --should’ve -- told me to fuck off. You had other friends (not that we were quite ‘friends’), but you chose me that night. I was a real fixer-upper of a companion, but maybe you liked a challenge. 

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You gave me that look -- that fuckin’ look -- that raised eyebrow and a tiny smirk. And it made me feel like a teenager caught staring at his crush. 

“Please and thank you," I added. 

You got up on the stool behind the bar, grabbed the bottle on the top shelf, and said, “you deserve it.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “But I’ll take it.”

You sat beside me, and sipped your whiskey. (And you looked pretty hot doing it.) After a good minute of silence you said, “thank you for not killing me and eating me in the woods.”

“I’d get pretty goddamn bored if I didn’t have you yapping in my ear constantly.”

“I thought you hated it.”

“Only sometimes.”

“Then, why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“Barely.”

So, I turned to you, put my elbow on the counter, laid my head in my hand, and gave you the same face you were giving me. I tried to pretend I was mocking you, but I think you knew I was trying to practice being more likable, being more like you. 

“Tell me something,” you said.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tell me about you.”

“My name is Joel Miller-”

“We’re not at AA.”

“You’re goddamn right we’re not. This would be the shittiest AA meeting ever.”

“Okay, okay. How about you tell me when your birthday is?”

“September 26th, 1981.”

“So, you’re a Libra.”

“Oh c’mon, tell me you’re not into that shit. I was finally starting to tolerate you.”

“I’m a Cancer.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Cancer like the crab, not like the disease!”

“Mm-hmm. I’m sure you’re familiar with crabs as well.”

I got a laugh and a smack on the arm in return, and the laugh was worth the smack. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know you can’t help being an asshole, so at least you’re making me laugh.”

I didn’t realize your hand was still on my arm until you asked me, “What’d you do before this? You’ve got nice arm muscles.”

“I worked in construction, I was a contractor.”

“Like a carpenter?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what Jesus was. I bet he had good arm muscles.”

“I don’t think that’s his most notable feature, but sure, why not?”

Despite the fact that we were talking all things Jesus, you were feeling me up. And you weren’t subtle about it at all. 

“Do you wanna play darts?” you asked, breaking the tension.

“Okay.”

You walked up to the dartboard all confident, and I expected an instant bullseye. You’d only had one drink and you were focusing so hard, practicing the swing of your arm like a golfer would. The first shot missed the board entirely.

And that’s when I learned you were awful at darts. 

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then, why’d you ask me to play?”

“For fun. Plus, how else am I gonna get better?”

You weren’t even close to the bullseye. You weren’t even hitting the board at all half the time. Over the next couple of years, you got better, not a lot better -- I still won every game we ever played -- but you got closer. But, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, as they say. It probably counts in terms of people too -- I like to think our closeness counted for something, even if it couldn't last forever.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty," I said.

“You’re lucky you’re good at darts," you fired back.

“Is that an insult? Because I’m holding a sharp object and I’ve got good aim.” And with that, I threw the final dart, hit the bullseye, and won. “What do I get?”

“For what?”

“Winning.”

“You get to keep your pride.”

I was happy with that, but you turned back to me, stepped closer and whispered, “and this,” before you kissed me. 

I don’t know which one of us was more nervous. All I knew was that I liked you a lot more when you were quiet. All I heard from you was a little gasp when I lifted you onto the counter so I could keep kissing you without having to lean down and hurt my back ‘cause I’m an old man. I really thought my brooding bad boy look was gonna get me laid again that night, but you stopped me before I could get your top off. 

“Uh-uh,” you said. “You’re gonna have to do more than beat me at darts if you want more than a kiss.”

“Fair enough. What’s your price?”

“I’m not a hooker.”

I didn’t understand why you looked so upset until that day by the water when you told me. I’m sorry I said that, I really am.

“Sorry. What I should’ve said is, ‘Can I take you to dinner on Friday?’”

You gave me a nonchalant ‘sure’, and I assumed you’d keep it hush-hush, but you bragged about getting asked out. Why would you brag about me? That's something I still don't understand.

The next day, I went and asked Tommy for advice because I hadn’t dated in a long time, and he’s more of the romantic type. I thought our dinner date would be news to him, but you’d already told him. 

“Yeah, I know. She came in here asking for advice too actually.” 

He’s got a bigger mouth than you do. That’s why you two got along so well -- you were like those little old ladies gossiping at the hair salon. 

“What’d she say?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy.”

But Tommy always had a certain loyalty to you. He keeps your secrets to this day -- some of ‘em. 

“Give me some advice, please.”

“You were married once. You won a woman’s heart. Just do what you did back then.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that my marriage ended in divorce.”

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is. How about smiling for once?”

I tried, but I’d almost forgotten how to over the years. 

Tommy feigned disgust and said, “I take it back. Keep your usual pissed-off look.”

You taught me how to smile again. I don’t know that you meant to do it, but you did. Tommy says he knows when I’m thinking about you because of the way I smile. 

When I came over to pick you up for dinner, you opened the door wearing a bathrobe with your hair in curlers. I guess I was looking at you funny because you made sure to tell me, “Don’t worry, I’m not wearing this out. Go sit in the living room.”

“I’m not worried. You look beautiful already.”

“I do not. I look like my grandmother.”

“I imagine she must’ve been a hot commodity then.”

“She was actually -- or at least, that’s the story she used to tell us. She was Prom Queen and all that jazz.”

You could talk for hours, about anything. I could say one word and you could give me a tangentially related 20 minute long monologue. You were a good storyteller. I don’t think I ever told you this, but I used to think about how you’d be great at making up stories for our kids one day -- if we ever had them. I know I told you I didn’t want to have any, but that’s one of the few lies I told you. I was too scared to imagine that kind of a future with you. 

I had you in the present, and that’s what I cared about. I don’t remember what you wore that night because I spent most of our date looking at your face, trying to memorize every dimple, freckle or scar I could see. All the details.

I’m sure your dress fit perfectly, but what I cared about was how your hand felt when I took it in mine as we walked to the restaurant -- it felt right, more so with our fingers intertwined on the way home. 

It was one of the longest dinner dates in my not-so-long history of dating as it took you quite a while to finish your meal because you don’t talk with your mouth full (usually). I think our waitress was mad that we were there for so long. They were cleaning up by the time you were done eating. 

I don’t remember all the things you said. Even if I did, I don’t have enough paper to write it all down. But I do remember when you asked me, “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Sure.” 

“This is my first date.”

I would’ve been less surprised if you’d told me you’d killed someone.

“Mine too,” I said. 

“Liar! Tommy said you were married... before all of this.”

“Does Tommy tell you everything about me?”

“No. He wouldn’t tell me when your birthday was. That’s why I asked you.”

“That’s ‘cause he forgot it.”

Really, I wanted to know if he told you about Sarah, or if I’d have to do it myself. Both. As it turned out, he told you before we ever really met. I told you by the river, but that came later. 

When I walked you home, we lingered by your door, and when I leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you turned your head, and I should’ve realized how special you were to me ‘cause I felt my heart sink. But, you asked me to come inside. You were always shy about kissing in public, but not on your living room couch. 

When we were inside, you let me take off your dress, but only after I agreed to take off my shirt. 

“Jesus,” you said when you watched me undress. 

“We talked enough about Jesus last time. It’s about you and me now, baby.”

I learned to be a gentleman growing up in Texas, that wining and dining a lady includes putting her first in the bedroom too. But you called the shots -- that night and all of the others we had together. You got down on your knees and gave me the most irresistible face. It was embarrassing how quickly I came. It’s still embarrassing, and you’re not even here to tease me about it anymore. I thought I’d get the chance to prove myself to you that night, but you stopped me. I remembered what you said, ‘this is my first date’, and I assumed you were a virgin. 

It was about a week later when I was trying to teach you how to skip rocks in the river that I asked you if you were one. 

“It’s not a big deal if you are -- not to me, I mean. I just figured maybe because you said that was your first date.”

“It’s kind of a long story, so take a seat if you want the answer.”

I don’t know what I expected you to say, but I already felt like I’d fucked up by asking. I didn’t want to make this mess I’d gotten myself into worse than it already was, so I sat next to you and waited for you to speak. 

“It’s not actually a long story, I guess. Just a sad one.”

It was the first sad story you told me, and you told me more stories than I’d ever been told by anyone else at this point. It was impressive how many happy ones you held onto, especially after everything that you told me that day. 

You didn’t look at me while you spoke. You mumbled and picked at the grass beneath you. Like a child. 

“I’m not a virgin, but I wasn’t lying when I said that was my first date. There’s just some stuff that you don’t know about me... ‘cause I didn’t want you to know these things about me. But it’s not like I was ever gonna get away with not telling you. It’s better that it happens now anyway.”

You started to cry, so I put my hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off. I was so used to the one doing the pushing away that being pushed away was jarring. 

“Before I came to Jackson, I used to do things for money. Those sorts of things. It’s not like I wanted to, ‘cause I’m not like that, you know.”

You explained how you’d lost both your parents by the time you were 16 and didn’t have any siblings, so you ended up with whatever friends you could find. Some of the few good people that were left. 

“There was a group of men who killed my friends just to loot their pockets, but they realized that it’d be more profitable to keep me alive.”

“So they forced you to...”

“Have sex for supplies, yeah. One of them was my first time, I guess. They did that stuff for a while, but once I’d been with a decent amount of men, they decided I was too ‘used up’ or something to be worth having sex with. I can’t decide if that made me feel better or worse. On the one hand, I didn’t have to have sex with them anymore, but I was also too gross to be wanted.”

“’Used up’ is bullshit. Back when the world was a little more civilized, those bastards could’ve gone to jail.”

“They’re dead.”

“Did you kill ‘em?”

“No, but I thought about it all the time. I remember thinking about strangling a man once. He was alone, so no one would’ve seen me do it, and the guys could’ve taken all of his shit too. They probably would’ve been happy if I had. I think that’s why I didn’t.”

“If you didn’t kill them, then how did they die?”

It probably wasn’t appropriate for me to pry, but the sadistic part of me needed to know that they got what was coming for them. I needed to know there was some justice left in this world. 

“They wanted food from some guy who’d gone hunting and they tried to sell me to him, but he said ‘no’. He looked so offended that I thought I was pissed off ‘cause they’d given him a bad deal... but he shot the one standing in front of him. Then, he yelled at me to turn around and I was sure I was gonna die, but I heard him walk into the other room, another shot, and when the third walked in from outside, another shot. He walked over to me, and I started crying and begging him not to kill me. He told me he wasn’t going to, but he made me close my eyes while he led me out of the house.”

“’Cause he didn’t want you to see the bodies.”

“Yeah... and I still thought he was going to kill me, even when he took me with him on his horse, and said he was taking me back to some place called ‘Jackson’.” 

I don’t know if I would say you got a happy ending, at least, not the one you deserved, but I saw a hint of a smile when you mentioned Jackson. And you didn’t have to tell me who the man was -- I know him well. 

“Tommy,” I said, confident in my guess.

“Yeah.”

After I dropped you off at home, I went by his place and thanked him. And then I went home and cried. For the first time in a decade.

“You know it doesn’t change how I feel about you, right?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you… most of the time.” 

What I meant was, I love you. I just didn’t know it yet. 

“I guess I owe you a story too, then.”

“You don’t owe me anything... but you can tell me whatever you want.”

I think part of me wanted to tell you, or at least, part of me wanted you to know. “I had a daughter.”

“I know.”

I should’ve known, considering how close you and Tommy were.

“Tommy told you, didn’t he?”

“To be fair to him, he told me he had a niece.”

“Yeah, he did. She’d be a little older than you. It’s crazy to think that she’d be in her 30s when the last time I saw her she was 13.”

“I know saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t really do anything, but I’m still sorry”

“In a way, I’m glad she doesn’t have to see all these things. All the infected. She died before we ever had to go to a QZ.”

When you told me about the first QZ you lived in as a kid, it confirmed that for me. It pained me to hear about you watching your dad get bitten and leaving him behind, saying goodbye without knowing he was dying -- in one way or another. 

You told me later about how the only person you’d ever killed was your own mother, how she used to sell herself like you did, how you missed the first shot and you saw how scared she was to die. I think you had it worse than I did. 

“I think she was mostly scared because she knew I couldn’t do shit with a gun, and that I’d end up surviving the way that she did... and she was right.”

“Neither of you deserved it, and I bet she’d be proud of you now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I’m proud of you.”

You cried, but you finally let me hold you. You cried so long that I thought you’d never stop. 

Do you remember your last day? I told you I wanted to be with you until the end, but you reminded me about your mother. You told me that even if a shot to the head had to be the way you went out, I wasn’t going to be there to give it to you. We had two choices: either wait until that day came or let you go before then. I said I wanted to go with you. I wanted to ask Tommy to give me the same cocktail he was gonna cook up for you. You said no. It was your last wish that I stayed. 

“I don’t wanna live without you.”

“I don’t wanna die, but I don’t get to choose. If I could live longer, I would. But just because I’m dying doesn’t mean you get to leave everyone else behind.”

Yeah, you brought Ellie into it. I wanted to tell you not to bring her up. I’m glad you did because as much as it hurt to think about her watching me die the way that I watched you die, it made me stay. I’m glad I stayed. Things are okay, but our last day is still my favorite day. 

We got up early and watched the sunrise, and I told you I loved you for the first time.

“I know,” you said with a smile on your face. 

“How?” 

You just lifted your coffee cup. When you moved in -- something I didn’t realize was happening ‘till it had already happened -- I started making coffee every morning before you woke up, and I started buying that French Vanilla bullshit creamer. I hated it. It was so sweet it made me nauseous. I could’ve gone and bought my own, but I’m still stubborn, I’m still a cheapskate, I’m still me -- even without you (which is something I thought I’d never be able to say). But that wasn’t why I started taking my coffee the same way you took yours.

It was one day when you’d already left for work but my shift didn’t start until later. I hadn’t slept at all the night before -- and not for any good reason, not for more time with you -- so I was tired when I woke up. I made myself some coffee, but I wasn’t even thinking straight, so I hadn’t noticed that I had put that creamer in my mug until I tasted it. But I wasn’t disgusted. I thought maybe you’d left yours behind and I’d absent-mindedly picked the wrong one up off the counter -- I very well could’ve gotten caught up in putting the toaster on the right settings (that’s something we could never agree on) -- but when I looked down, it was my mug. Yours was dirty in the sink. You were gone for the day. I was stupid to think otherwise. I was fantasizing. That was new. 

So, just as I am right now, I take my morning coffee like you took yours. It tastes like you, like you kissing me. 

I waited anxiously for you to say you loved me too. 

“Are you not gonna say it back? Do you not-- do you feel the same?”

“What do you think?”

“I hope so.”

You gestured for me to come closer so you could whisper in my ear and I thought maybe you’d give me a wet willy. But you said, “Joel Miller, I have loved you for a long time.”

I didn’t say anything. I don’t think I’ve ever been very good with words -- talking was your thing. I grabbed your hand and squeezed. We went out onto the porch and sat in silence. I wonder what you were thinking about. 

“Will you sing me something?”

You know I don’t take requests, and you know I don’t like an audience, no matter how small that audience is. 

No one would refuse the wish of a dying woman, but I couldn’t refuse you even if I knew you’d be there tomorrow and every day after. I only protest because you look cute when you beg. Not in that way -- you look hot when you beg like that. 

“What song do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

I sang Peaceful Easy Feeling because, as much as a part of me felt a sense of urgency, knowing our time was running out, most of me was just thinking about you, and I love you. Simple as that. 

You gave me a standing ovation just to see me blush. 

We all planned something special for your last dinner. I know you like simple things, so I tried to make it as simple as I could while still making it special for you. Maybe it was selfish to make it a night to remember when I’m the one who gets to remember it. 

Tommy and Maria were chef and sous-chef (you can guess who was who in that scenario), and Ellie was the waitress. 

“What are your specials tonight?” you asked. 

“We have either the steak and baked potato or the steak without the baked potato.”

“In that case, I’d like it with the baked potato.”

We probably lit a hundred candles to fill the room with enough light to see each other -- we had time while you were getting ready, since you’re a bit of a slowpoke. We picked flowers from the garden and put them in an empty wine bottle because we couldn’t find a vase, and conjured up a decent tablecloth. We had ice cream sundaes for dessert -- or at least, you did. You know what I had for dessert. 

“How about you, sir, would you like anything for dessert?” Ellie asked. 

“No, I think I’ll be having dessert when we get home.” I tried to subtly wink at you. 

“Ew! That’s disgusting. I don’t wanna hear about your sex life.”

“You’re the one assuming I was talking about sex. How do you know I don’t have a tub of ice cream waiting for me in the freezer at home?”

There was ice cream in the freezer, but the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted was between your legs. The moment we got home I picked you up bridal style and carried you up to our bedroom. 

“Baby, I know how long you spent getting ready, and I’m sorry to do this to you, but this needs to come off,” I said before I yanked down the zipper of your dress. You laughed as I ripped off your clothes. 

You gently undid my tie and when I watched you fumble with the buttons on my shirt, I said, “Just rip it, baby.”

“I don’t wanna ruin your clothes.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me or my clothes tonight. I want you to have me however you want me.”

“You’ll do whatever I want?”

“Within reason.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

“I suppose it depends -- what are the roles?”

“Husband and wife.”

“As long as I can be the husband.”

And then you kissed me -- with your typical tenderness but a new level of dedication. Slow and passionate, showing me what our lives could’ve been like. 

“I’m an impatient husband, and I want my beautiful wife to lie down because I think I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t get to taste her.”

My mouth is useless when it comes to talking, but we both know I have other uses for it. I tried to go slowly, but I couldn't help myself. I swear your pussy was so perfect it made me reconsider my views on God. Though, I don’t think I am a man deserving of an angel. I think I just got lucky. 

That night I couldn’t care less about how loud you were. “Joel- fuck- you’re gonna have to slow down, or, or, put your hand over my mouth ‘cause - oh!”

“’Cause you don’t want anyone to hear? What’s the problem with them hearing, darlin’? Married couples make love all the time, it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Without a condom, too. We weren’t worried about you getting pregnant, so we went out with the best bang of ‘em all. I think the last time I’d done it like that was when Sarah was conceived, and based on how easy that was, I was always cautious. 

Husband and wife roleplay wasn’t very different from the sex we typically had. I guess we were really only a piece of paper and wedding bands away from being those ‘characters’. 

Earlier that day, I was worried I wouldn’t sleep that night. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to savor every moment with you but when you curled up in my arms I fell asleep before I could even consider staying awake. 

Waking up next to you was my last clear image, even our goodbye kiss was a little blurry ‘cause I was already a little teary-eyed. 

But before that, over breakfast, you mentioned something that I’ve thought about every day since. 

“You know how sometimes people see a bird or something and they’re like ‘oh, that’s my dead relative’?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come back as a butterfly. One of the blue ones. You don’t see those too often. I don’t want to be something too common, like a bird, then you’ll probably mistake someone else for me.”

I don’t think I had seen a blue butterfly in Jackson until after you’d left us, but there’s one outside my window right now. 

In case it’s you, I’ll read this all aloud. 

Forever yours, 

Joel 

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Heroes and Their Reputations

Pairing: As of right now there isn't one- trying to decide if this is going to be more than this silly one shot lol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none really?

Genre: kinda fluff mostly... comedy I guess is accurate

Summary: The Avengers may be Earth's mightiest heroes but there's plenty of room for improvement especially in the public opinion category, so what happens when the team is given a PR manager?

***

"Listen, I can tell you right now, this transition will not be smooth." Fury warns you as you walk down the hall.

"Oh come on Fury how bad can they be?" You scoff.

"Most of them are- fine, I'm sure the reception will be overall positive but at least one of them will try to run you off and you need to prepared."

"I've got pretty thick skin so I think I'll manage. Plus I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to deal with that sort of thing believe it or not." You say.

"Alright. I'll call you in in a moment." Fury says. He enters the meeting room while you wait in the hall. It takes a while for his head to pop out to call you.

"You ready?" He asks.

"Sure." You say kicking off the wall and entering the room.

"Avengers. Meet your new manager." Fury announces to the room.

"Hey everyone, my name is y/n. Like Fury said I'll be your manager moving forward." You say.

"Sorry, what does having a manager entail exactly?" Bruce asks, adjusting his glasses.

"All of your missions, any official public appearances, interactions with civilians online or in person, that'll all go through me now. I'll also deal with government officials on your behalf and any legal situations you may end up in."

"So you're a lawyer?" Clint asks.

"No, we have lawyers. She's just here to oversee you all so that you can be held to a standard." Fury says.

"We don't need a manager." Tony scoffs.

"Oh yes, you do." Fury says.

"It can't hurt." Thor shrugs.

"Don't be ridiculous Thor. Look, sweetheart, we've managed just fine on our own so far so I see what they're trying to do here but it's pointless and I will not be answering to some random figurehead they've brought in to play babysitter." Tony says.

"Okay, let me make one thing clear, Anthony, sweetheart, we're playing my game now, so you play by my rules or you don't play at all." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He narrows his eyes.

"How do I explain this? If I'm a coach, I'm not going to put players in the game that I know are just going to continually rack up penalties, that's a poor game plan. The public doesn't trust you, it's my job to change that. So if you make my job harder you will no longer go on missions or even leave the tower. It's pretty simple. Fall in line or Iron Man will effectively be out of commission until you can be trusted to behave."

"Nice try but you can't do that." He scoffs. You cock an eyebrow at him and snap. His body tenses to a halt for a moment before you unfreeze him.

"My game. Understood?" You ask.

"W-w-what t-th-the f-f-f-f-fuck w-w-was th-th-that?" Tony wraps his arms around himself, shivering in his seat.

"What did you just do to him?" Steve's eyes widen.

"You have powers?!" Wanda asks excitedly.

"Nothing deadly." You wink at Steve. "Yes." You smile at Wanda. Bruce's hand hesitantly raises as he speaks,

"When you say nothing deadly-"

"Mr. Stark's body temperature was briefly at 28.2 degrees Fahrenheit. Low enough to freeze his blood but not for long enough to kill him." Vision informs the group.

"You frozehis blood?!" Sam gasps.

"What the fuck kind of power is that?" Clint asks.

"Are you some sort of demigod?" Thor asks.

"Technically I control water. Vision darling can you get him a blanket or something? The shivering is... excessive." You say.

"Of course." Vision says with a nod.

"F-F-F-F-Fury d-did y-you know a-a-ab-b-bout th-th-this?"

"It's got nothing to do with my job so it's not like it's on my resume, but if anybody would do the extra research on me it'd be Fury." You say. Vision returns then and drapes a blanket over Tony who pulls it tight around himself.

"Just want to make it clear that I did not know you could do that. Why the fuck you ain't mention that before now?" Fury looks at you.

"I did say I had some tricks up my sleeve." You shrug.

"We'll discuss that later." He tells you.

"Am I the only one not understanding how water manipulation lets you freeze blood?" Sam asks.

"Blood is made up of mostly water. I can control the water within blood. Goes for other things too, clouds, mud- anything really."

"So you froze his blood?" Bruce asks with wide eyes.

"Just to prove my point. I wasn't gonna kill him." You reiterate.

"I like our manager." Natasha smirks.

"Thank you." You say. Fury pulls out his phone and sighs.

"Imma leave y'all to get acquainted. Don't turn anyone into an iceblock in the meantime." He warns.

"She's already done that." Clint says.

"Fine, don't turn anybody else into an iceblock. If you insist I get technical." Fury rolls his eyes.

"You aren't seriously going to leave us with her Fury." Tony says breathily, his body finally warming up enough to talk normally.

"Don't push her buttons and you should be fine Tony you're an adult."

"Only in theory." Steve mutters and you let out a small laugh at his dig.

"I've told her not to freeze anybody, don't piss her off and you'll be safe." Fury reiterates before leaving the room.

"So-" you take a seat at the table with everyone and rest your chin in one of your hands propped up at the elbow. "Questions?"

"So are you like our boss?" Natasha asks.

"When you say monitor our interactions online what does that mean?" Steve asks.

"You mentioned public appearances. Will we be doing press conferences? Because I don't really like the idea of having to sit and answer a bunch of questions on a panel." Bruce asks.

"Since when do we have a team of lawyers?" Clint scoffs.

"Also what do you mean when you say missions go through you?" Sam asks.

"So when I said questions I didn't mean everybody throw them all at once. Natasha, technically speaking kind of since you guys do have to answer to me. Steve, you all are an interesting bunch, I assume none of you do but if any of you had a social media presence at all I would be monitoring that to make sure the things you're engaging with don't make you look any worse. Bruce, you probably won't be doing press conferences exactly because I can't say I trust you all to answer questions live like that but we do need to do damage control on your image as a team so you'll be making strategic appearances over the next few months at events and such so that the public sees you in a better light. Clint, the first thing I told them when I was hired was that a group of superheroes needs a legal team especially if the government is poking their noses around here so I put one together. Sam, Fury will send your missions to me, and I'll decide who goes on which ones based on your skill set as individuals and cooperatively."

"How did you remember all of those questions?" Steve binks.

"Do you know our skill sets?" Clint asks.

"I've seen some of your- combat, clips go pretty viral of the big ones, so I have an idea but I'll be scheduling targeted trainings with each of you to observe more directly over the next two weeks." You say.

"So, what happens in the meantime? Until you know our strengths if there are missions then what?" Natasha asks.

"Steve seems the closest to a leader here. I'll take his suggestions regarding assignments and go from there." You say.

"Cap is not our leader." Tony scoffs.

"Well, it's certainly not you." You roll your eyes. "Does anyone else take issue with me consulting Steve for your mission assignments?" You ask, a hand up to stop Tony from whining more.

"Nope." Bruce says.

"No." Natasha says.

"I'd rather Steve than Tony." Clint says.

"I trust Steve more than Tony." Wanda says.

"I'm here because of Steve- so, only makes sense." Sam shrugs.

"Vision? Thoughts?" You ask.

"My vote sways nothing as everyone else has unanimously chosen Captain Steve Rogers."

"No Vision this isn't about statistics, I asked because you're part of the team and your opinion is as valuable as everyone else's." You tell him.

"In that case, I think the most reasonable choice for who you should consult would be Captain Rogers."

"All of you have betrayed me today." Tony says.

"Cut the drama Stark you are far too impulsive to be calling any shots here." You roll your eyes.

"Oh what do you know?" He scoffs.

"I know you're reckless and make decisions without considering those around you, I know you've created more problems than you've solved, I know that you need serious lessons in collaboration because you are by far the worst team player I've ever come across, and this is just from reading your file and studying public records, you struggle with addictive behaviors, you have narcissistic tendencies, abandonment issues, self-destructive habits and an overall lack of basic social awareness, you consider yourself generally above reproach, and things like empathy are often lost on you and it makes you nothing short of insufferable to be around. And that is putting it very lightly. Shall I continue?"

"Yes please!" Natasha laughs.

"I get the point." Tony grits out.

"Good! Glad we're on the same page! Now you can stop questioning me because as I'm sure you've realized by now in a game of who can be the bigger asshole, Tony, for once in your life, you will lose. I've dealt with egos 10 times the size of yours and if they couldn't break me neither will you. So fall in line, or say buh bye to the iron suit."

"Oh shit. Fury's a genius." Natasha chuckles.

"What, Nat?" Steve frowns.

"She's here to fix our reputation. I dunno about the rest of y'all but based on today I trust her to do the job gotta be honest." She shrugs.

"Good. Makes my job much easier if you trust me." You say. "Any more questions Avengers?" You ask the group.

"Will you be living here?" Wanda asks.

"No. I don't see a reason to, so I don't plan on it." You shrug.

"What if we need you when you're not here?" She asks.

"Honestly a lot of my job can be done remotely. Since PR has nothing to do with your day to day activities emergencies are unlikely. I'll only be here a few times a week and that's mostly because I don't trust some of you to pick up if I call."

"Uh- when does this observational training start?" Bruce asks.

"We'll start Monday. I'll send out a full schedule later but I'll be starting with you, Tony. 9 am."

"Oh come on! Why me?!" Tony groans.

"Because I know you'll give me the most trouble and everyone else will feel like a cakewalk after." You smile. "If there are no further questions, watch your phones, I'll be reaching out to each of you over the weekend, see you Monday. Try not to do any more damage before then." You say standing and leaving the room. Yeah, you're going to have one hell of a time with this team.

Monday morning you reach the tower early. You told Tony to meet you in the training room at 9 o'clock, so at 8:45 you find a meeting room and have your coffee.

"Friday?" You call out.

"Good morning y/n."

"Good morning. I want a view of the cameras in the training room, and please make sure nobody knows that I've arrived at the tower yet." You say.

"Aren't you meant to be meeting Mr. Stark shortly?"

"Mr. Stark will be experiencing a series of trials today. The first of which will be a test of patience. Which means he cannot know I'm already here. Okay?"

"Understood."

"Thank you." You settle in at the round table sipping your coffee and kicking your feet up as you prepare to hang out here for a while. You watch Tony enter the training room at 9 on the dot. For the first 10 minutes, he seems to just be idly waiting. He checks his watch a few times, paces the room, lets out the occasional impatient huff. After the twenty minute mark, he calls you, which you promptly ignore. He starts to do minor training stuff, jumping jax, hitting a punching bag, messing around with weights. He calls again at forty minutes. You still don't answer. You watch him for a full hour before you leave the meeting room and finally make your way to where he's surprisingly still waiting.

"Good morning Anthony." You say casually when you walk in.

"Good mor- where have you been? You told me we were meeting at 9 am it's not 10:07. I've been waiting for over an hour."

"Well technically I told you to be here at 9 am. Never said anything about me being here at 9 too. But I have been in the tower. I was in a meeting room. Watching you. Planning the rest of the morning."

"So- you've been here since 9 am and you just- what? Decided I could wait?"

"I've been here since 8:45 actually. I wanted to see if first of all you'd be punctual and secondly could you wait indefinitely without direction simply because I told you to be here at 9." You say.

"You're telling me I just wasted an hour of my time in here for your amusement?" He crosses his arms.

"You lack patience and discipline, so I'm testing you."

"By wasting my time?"

"By challenging your equanimity."

"Challenging my equanimity? Really? That's you're justification for wasting an hour of my day?"

"Friday please prepare Ironman's training simulation." You say rolling your eyes at Tony's complaints.

"Simulation loading, please wait." Friday responds.

"We're not done with this conversation." Tony says.

"Oh yes we are. I think you're still struggling to understand how this works, I don't answer to you Tony. Now if you at any point want to go on missions, I suggest you suit up and run the training simulation I've prepared for you." You say.

"You prepared?"

"Simulation complete. Ready to begin." Friday announces.

"It's what I've been up to since I got here an hour ago. Everyone's getting personalized simulations to assess their skills. Yours begins- now." You say stepping back.

"Beginning simulation round one." Friday says and that's the only warning Tony gets before it starts. The training begins with a set of drills, a combination of shooting still targets and dodging projectiles. It takes him most of the hour to finish the first round of tests, and the final sequence ends with him on the the floor.

"I fight in a suit. Why the hell am I running target practice without it?!" He huffs.

"You wanna be a hero you're gonna need more than your rich kid toys to qualify. If it powers down or is rendered useless somehow in the middle of a mission you can't simply become a liability to the team and if you are- I need to know that too."

"Friday." He grits out.

"Yes Mr. Stark?" The computerized voice fills the room.

"Tell Pepper I'll be later than expected coming in today."

"Friday, tell Pepper not to expect him until after lunch." You say checking your watch.

"Yes Miss y/n."

"After lunch?!" His eyes widen.

"Oh relax, I won't be keeping you here that long, it's only 11, but by the time we're done you'll probably want to get something to eat or at the very least change your clothes before going to work." You shrug. "Friday please load the second round of the Stark Training Simulation."

"Simulation loading. Please wait."

"S-second round?" He groans.

"I had four planned, but that first one took you forever so we'll have to consolidate. Put on your suit before she's finished loading, you won't have time to once it starts." You tell him.

"How were you even able to get Friday to do this?" He asks as he forces himself to his feet.

"Fury gave me access to everything on the grounds." You shrug.

"Loading complete. Ready to begin." Friday announces.

"Great. Please begin round two at an increase of five percent Friday."

"Beginning simulation round two at a five percent increase."

"Woah hang on a five percent increase what the hell does that me-" Tony is cut off by a projectile launching across the room. Round two is more combat based using mechanical dummies Friday was able to activate for you. With the speed increase Tony struggles to keep up with the attacks but at least it won't take him over an hour to do them. It takes 47 minutes for him to complete round two.

"Right, I think I've got enough information. I'm going to let you go. I'll save rounds 3 and 4 for another day. Friday please send me the footage from today's simulation runs." You say.

"Understood."

"You plan on being a tyrant your entire time here?" Tony asks.

"What's the matter Stark? Can't handle the heat?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"That wasn't just heat that was being thrown into a volcano."

"You know what they say, pressure makes diamonds. I'll be in touch." You say walking out of the training room, already preparing the simulations for your next session, you're thinking Steve.

"Take your time!" Tony shouts after you and you roll your eyes. Maybe Fury was onto something when he warned you it would not be easy with these guys.

***

A/N: should I continue this story? Do we add a love interest? If so who?

[animentality]

And yes. These are all characters from my demon summoning assassin novel, 7 Deadly Habits of the Modern Demon Summoner.

Which is COMPLETELY FREE to download on the free Kindle app (available for iOS, Android, tablet, etc. on the app store) from February 22nd to February 26th!

eBook only, but if you download it for free now, and like it, then you can always buy the physical copy to have on your shelf :D

Link here.

Full description below. I'd appreciate a reblog/signal boost, because I don't want anyone to miss grabbing the book while it's most accessible. But also vote on which one you think is the worst, because I promise you, they are much, much, much worse in the actual novel.

Anyway. Thanks for listening. Sorry to bother. But not that sorry.

Transcription in case the photo does not load:

Twenty-three-year-old CEO Don Francisco wants one of the richest women in the world dead. Which one? Daphne Oakland: actress, model, heir to the Oakland financial empire, and unbeknownst to the general public, talented demon summoner. But since Francisco isn’t nearly as rich as the established Oakland family, he hires the only assassin he can afford: Sebastián Monterey, a down-on-his-luck, struggling demon summoner, the cheapest and lowest ranking one there is.

But Monterey is nothing like Cisco expected. He’s high-spirited, reckless, relentlessly cheerful …and worse, he’s a bit of a slut. The CEO is horrified to find out that Monterey has not just one, but seven angry exes in the killing business, who will stop at nothing to get in the way of an already impossible hit. Not only do they have personal reasons for wanting to see their former lover dead, they also have professional reasons: they are all currently employed by the Oakland family members!

To make matters worse, Monterey finds out the Oaklands are each protecting a demon ritual artifact for Daphne. When brought together, all 7 can be used to summon a demon more powerful than any currently contracted on earth. If he is to carry out this hit at all, he’ll have to interfere with the summon by stealing every artifact, and maybe even summon the demon before Daphne can.

But that's only if none of his exes kill him first!

And here's some lovely art of the MC, Rey, which I commissioned from the talented @marcissistv (Twitter).

[marksbear]

So I don’t know if you still take commissions (even though it literally says it’s open by the time I’m typing this lmao) but I was thinking of Ghost from COD modern warfare 2 with male reader who is mute? Also male reader is like a total sweetheart, pretty shy.

Maybe it’s winter and Ghost invites his friends to his house for dinner for some reason (maybe male reader wanted to meet them but ghost said no cause he wanted privacy) , and on the car ride there Ghost accidentally mentions his househusband which suprised the team since he never talked about him. (Let alone he was into guys)

Ghost says that he wanted their marriage to be private and makes a quick recap of what male reader is like, who is a photographer and has 3 Barbie dolls (I like Barbie dolls don’t judge me 😂) and gave them their own personalities and stuff on social media to look like they’re traveling the world.

They reached home, male reader welcomes them and quickly heads to the kitchen cause he’s making the food. The crew all sit at the table eating (the food is delicious) and Soap asks how they met and Ghost just says that it’s pretty boring.

Idk what happens next, (maybe they play a board game? Or they continue chatting with Ghost and male reader, ur pick) but after that the crew stays for the night and Ghost and male reader sleep together.

(Also, small detail, male reader is wearing a sweater and sweatpants)

thank u for your time

This has to be one of the cutest requests I've had in a while! Ngl. The barbie doll part honestly took me out.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X MUTE photographer MALE READER

Finally winter break in task force 141 arrived. It's one of the few times they get off for holidays and to be with family.

So the team made a tradition. The first day of the break everyone takes turns to take the team to their home for dinner, since it maybe the last time they'll see each other in a while.

This time around it's Simon's turn.

At first Ghost didn't want to be the host. He didn't want the team all up in his personal business. Simon already had an excuse in mind as to why he couldn't host, but sadly his husband found out about the tradition and begged Ghost to meet them.

But the cold hearted man said no at first, but his husband had convinced him to host.

So this leads into now.

Ghost was driving to his house with Price in the passenger seat while the others were in the backseats. The car was blasted with loud music because of Gaz. and conversation.

"Hey Simon!--" Soap shouts trying to catch the male attention. But sadly the music went over his words. "Ghooost!~" Gaz drags out as well. The pair try over and over again trying to catch Ghost.

Soap taps Price on his shoulder. Price turns his head to the side looking at Soap. Soap signals with his hands to turn down the radio even using his hand as an example. The captain immediately understands and turns his head back around facing the radio and turning it down.

"Fuckin hell finally. Ghost!" Soap says finally being able to hear himself. Simon hums in response.

"You got anything or anyone at home? Like dogs, cats..." Soap trails off with Gaz finishing the question. "Secret girlfriends?" Ghost lets out a groan and an eye roll.

"No Johnny. I have no one there." Ghost says clearing lying shooting down the question.

The car grows silent with only soft music playing in the background.

"Any kids? Since theres a little barbie back here with brand new packaging." Gaz points out picking up the box. "Don't tell me you play with dolls L.t?" Soap teases with a smirk.

"No. I don't have any kids. And the box is a gift for my husband..." Simon trails off as realization slowly sets in.

Price eyebrow raises looking away from the window and to the soldier next to him. "You liar!" Soap shouts point his finger at Simon. "Husband?" Price repeats looking at Simon. "You like guys!?!" Gaz says looking around wide eyed.

"Fucks sake." Simon says slapping himself mentally.

"Well who is he!?!"

"What is he like??

"What's his job?"

"Does he treat you right?"

"Why didn't you tell us about him!!"

Question after question comes from the group.

"I wanted our marriage to be private. It's none of y'all's business about me and my husband's love life. But i'll only give you a small recap about him, but that's it..." Simon breathes out with his tone full with annoyance.

"His name is Y/n L/n. He's a mute photographer with three barbie dolls he gave their own personalities and background stories with verified social media accountants about what's going on with their lives. Like them traveling the world, their boyfriends, mental health updates and so on. The girls names are (___) (____) and my favorite (___)"

Simon says getting his phone and goes to one of the dolls social media accounts clicking on the newest photo of the girl and shows his team.

The picture is (____) looking outside the window looking for someone while the other girls are trying to confused in the background.

The caption read:

"(____) waiting for her husband to come home from the military."

After everyone sees it Simon takes his phone back and likes the post.

After a few more miles Simon sees his house in a couple more feet away. "Were here." Simon says waking up Gaz. Simon parks the car in the driveway and turns the car off.

Ghost looks in the backseat snatching the brand new toy from Gaz's hands before leaving the car with the team following close behind him.

"Don't make me regret taking y'all here." Ghost breathes out mostly talking about Soap and Gaz.

Before Ghost could unlock the door, the door swings open.

A pair of arms wrap around Ghost's body hugging him tight. Almost causing Simon to fall.

Insistingly Simon wraps his arms around his husband back hugging him tight bringing him closer. "I miss you too..." Simon says into the crook of Y/n's neck.

Y/n is first to pull away before giving Simon a quick kiss on Simon's covered lips. Y/n's head looks over Simon's shoulder looking at the men behind him.

Y/n gives them a bright wave before walking back inside the house.

Soap and Gaz lets out a few giggles thats quickly shushed by Price glaring at them.

"Well don't just keep standin there cmon." Simon groans out walking inside the house leading them into the dinning room.

TIMESKIP

After Simon gets the team all settled down in the dinning room he walks to the kitchen holding his husband's gift behind his back. "Y/n love, come here." Simon says looking at him.

Y/n turns his head to his husband and stops from what he was doing and walks over to Simon looking at him confused.

"Here. For you and the girls." Simon says showing the brand new barbie to him. Simon watches his husband's eyes become filled with joy and ideas.

Y/n takes the box out of Simon's hands before using his free hand to pull down Simon's mask to kiss him deeply on the lips. Y/n kiss him over and over again as thank yous.

"Your welcome." Simon says against Y/n's lips.

"How about you go show the girls while I take over cooking." Simon suggests.

Y/n doesn't need to get told twice as he goes upstairs to the dolls "personal" room.

TIMESKIP

After the food was done cooking Y/n and Simon began to serve the team with food and drinks even Deseret. The whole team loved the food. (Even got Gaz asking for seconds)

As everyone is eating and talking about whatever Soap finds something to talk about.

"Where did you two meet." Soap asks looking at Ghost and his husband.

"It's pretty boring..." Simon answers trying to shoot down the question. "I bet it's not." Price voice rings out. "Trust me it is." "I don't believe you." Gaz says already planning to ask Y/n if Simon doesn't tell them.

"It's just pretty boring how we met. Nothing fancy or cute just boring." Simon says once again.

As the team begins to argue about wanting to know they don't notice Y/n with one of his dolls and his photography camera posing her at the dinner table taking pictures.

Y/n even got to sneak some pictures of her staring at Price with love in her eyes.

It isn't until a while Simon notices he wasn't paying his husband any attention. Simon looks to the left of him to only get met with a doll in his husband's seat looking at price.

"Y/n." Simon calls out looking at his husband taking her pictures. Y/n looks away from his camera looking at Simon with a smile.

Timeskip

Finally hours past everyone is ready for bed. Y/n takes each team member to a guest room signing them "goodnight" before finally going to his own room with his husband.

Y/n strips out of his clothes and into one of Simon's shirts and sweats before crawling into the bed.

After a while Simon comes inside the room after washing the dishes. Simon takes off his shirt pants putting on sweats as well before climbing into bed.

Simon wraps his arms around Y/n bringing him close.

"I love you." Simon whispers against Y/n. Y/n kiss Simon on the cheek responding with the same love.

THE END

[37-children-of-the-dreams]

Does ZZZ have its own version of Halloween? Hoyo commissioned some art for Halloween, so maybe a version of Halloween exists. Yet, does everyone celebrate it, or is it something only people in New Eridu do, and the people of the Outer Ring just hear about it?

If it's only a New Eridu thing, imagine some kids in the Outer Ring hearing about a city-wide Halloween festival and wanting to join the fun. They'd probably ask the adults and the Overlord to join. Caesar is a sweetheart, so of course she'd agree, and the rest of the Sons of Calydon follow suit. The parents also agree as long as the kids have a chaperone.

Lighter and Billy ended up being the chaperones because everyone was busy.

The day of the Halloween festival happens and Billy, who's wearing his Starlight Knight costume, is driving the vehicle holding the kids while Lighter is riding shotgun. He's trying to make Lighter feel better because Lighter doesn't babysit kids but Lighter's like 'It's fine.' The two go first to Random Play because, well, it's Belle and Wise, and our Proxies are just happy to give out candies to everyone coming into Random Play. Lighter asks to use their bathroom upstairs and doesn't come out for a while. Billy gets worried and tells the two that he's worried that Lighter isn't happy babysitting because he might have plans and they all try to go upstairs only to see Lighter going down the stairs dressed up as Professor Arche. Complete with harmless purple flames.

Lighter: I heard the best-dressed person gets the best junk food, so I dressed up as the most awesome Voidhunter a pyromancer can admire. Give me junk food.

Billy, Wise, Belle, and the Outer Ring kids are all surprised, impressed, and outright floored that Lighter had this get-up and looks almost like Professor Arche, sans having a head. Lighter explains to them that he actually wanted to come to New Eridu for the amount of junk food he'd gain from the Halloween festival. He also picked Professor Arche because he knew the people of New Eridu looked up to the Voidhunters and knew he'd get more junk food if he dressed up as one.

This explanation causes Billy to enter him and Lighter in every costume contest that contains junk food, makes Belle and Wise take multiple pictures with Lighter because Professor Arche is the founder of their old home, Helios Academy, and makes the Outer Ring kids admire him a lot more than they already have. Wise even gave Lighter a discount for any movie he wanted before Billy dragged him and the kids to the city-wide festival. Wise and Belle have placed one of the photos of Lighter as Arche in their memory board because they were happy seeing someone cosplay as their home's founder.

Billy, Lighter, and the Outer Ring kids had the most fun Halloween festival ever. Billy had won many costume contests with his Starlight Knight outfit and gave some of the prizes to Lighter and the kids. Every shop owner ends up giving Lighter their best junk food to his delight. So many people were stopping both Billy and Lighter for their costumes and the kids had fun making new friends whenever a city kid wanted to take a picture with them.

They even met up with the Cunning Hares who are enjoying the festival. Nicole ends up giving the kids candy and toys. Anby gave Lighter some junk food while Nekomata was busy taking pictures with everyone to send to the Sons of Calydon.

The instant the festival ended and they all had to go back to the Outer Ring, the kids begged Billy and Lighter to be their chaperones again the next year. They both agreed since they got what they wanted from the festival. Once they made it to Blazewood, Lighter was immediately mobbed by the rest of the Sons of Calydon because they all saw his costume on the Inter-Knot and asked if he had fun. Billy showed them the photos of their time at the festival as the kids went back to their homes. Billy told them they all had fun and were willing to do this again next year.

It was a good night for the Champions of Sons of Calydon and the kids after all.

[jawabear]

hello again i know you wrote NSFW alphabet for captain, you could write one of ghost or konig. you can choose, thank you.

KÖNIG NSFW ALPHABET

Not my GIF

A/N: I absolutely made him out to be the subbiest sub ever. Sorry about that. I will do a Ghost one as well as I’m planning to do all the boys, but my head was full of König. (Wish something else of mine was full of him). Please respect that these are just my though and may/will differ to yours.

Genre: smut

Warnings: AFAB!reader, explicit sexual content, very kinky, König is a sub.

Summary: An A-Z of König’s bedroom antics…

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s usually the one who needs aftercare but even so, he will make sure you are okay. That you feel as fucked out and blissful as he does. If not he will do anything he can to make it so. Then he will whispered to you how much he loves you, stroke your hair, cuddle you, and sometimes even sing to you in his mother tongue.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves everything about you. But if he really had to pick (and he dislikes himself because of the choice he makes) he would choose your pussy. He cannot get enough of it. Not even to fuck or taste. But he’s just mesmerised by it. He loves to stare at your pussy, even better when you touch yourself.

He likes his fingers. Their long, pretty, and reach that spot inside you that makes you shatter under him. But he also likes his cock. He’s quite proud of it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Will come anywhere you want him too. Inside, your face, your mouth, your chest, himself. Anywhere you tell him to come he will.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a little narcissistic in that he loves to look at his own cock. He loves to touch it and play with it, he likes to watch it get hard. That being said, he did once try to suck himself off. Though he was big enough so he could reach but he really hurt his back trying to bend that way and was out of commission for two days. To this day only he knows the true reason for his back pain.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a fair few sexual encounters. He knows what he’s doing but half the time it’s you doing it to him. But he definitely knows what pleases him.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

When you ride him. He loves when you’re on top. When you dominate him. He loves seeing your tits bounce in his face. He loves to hold your hips while you ride his cock. It drives him nuts.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I feel like his personality is naturally sort of goofy? He’s quite bashful and teasing. I wouldn’t really say he’s serious or funny in the moment, he just sort of himself?

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I have a feeling he’s pretty void of body hair so there didn’t much going on down there. He likes to keep himself clean.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

When he’s in the mood, he is an absolute sweetheart. He will take his time to ensure your pleasure is met and to tell you how much he loves you. That’s when he’s in control for the night, or you it’s just want some sensual love making. But he is a sweet precious boy to you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

A big masturbator I think. He’s such a desperate and needy boy. He always needs release and with get himself off when ever he can. Always, always thinks of you when he touches himself. Likes to edge himself too because he likes when you do it. But it’s never as good as you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Dom/sub - goes without saying. But he is a huge switch. He prefers to be subby for you but if you ask it of him, he will the roughest, hardest fucking dom there has ever been. (Probably. He likes to think so anyway)

Edging/denial - he likes to edge you, but he LOVES when you edge him. He loves when you have complete control over his pleasure. He loves being a subby boy for you and letting you ruin him by denying him his orgasm.

Choking - he loves to be choked by you when you fuck, or edge him. Especially when you edge him. He likes when you make him cry and beg to let him come.

Mommy kink (or mummy for me ‘cause England) - like i’ve said, he’s a subby baby and has a mommy kink. Loves to call you those kinds of names like ma’am, miss, mistress etc.

Praise - he likes to know he’s doing a good job. Loves when you praise him for eating your pussy or how you compliment his big cock. It gets him so hard and so near the edge.

Squirting - he loves to make you squirt. His fingers can reach the spot that makes you squirt and he loved your face when you do. He loves to feel you gush around his fingers or on his face.

(I just think he’s really kinky. Probably the kinkiest of the CoD boys (apart from Gaz but I’ll do that soon))

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere he can have you. The bedroom, shower, briefing room, gym, sometimes even out in a mission if there’s enough time. He’s a menace and has to have you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s is horny all the time so it doesn’t take much to turn him on. You could literally breath in his direction and his cock is inside you. But there’s a certain look you give him, your bedroom eyes as it were, and that melts him. Makes his knees shake and he’s completely at your mercy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He’s up for anything but if you say no then it’s a no. He won’t try and persuade you more if you don’t like his idea. He wants to do right by you. Your pleasure is his priority.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Will die if he can’t eat your pussy. He loves when you go down on him, it’s a treat when you do. But he would kill and burn the world down if he was kept from being between your thighs.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on you. You set the pace most of the time. So he favours hard and fast. And then stopping right when he’s on the edge.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s a quickie guy. He will fuck you at any given moment even if there’s little time. He will make you come in seconds if he has to. Anything to be inside you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s up for anything. So whatever you want to do, he’s willing to give it a go.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go for as long as you need him too and longer. He won’t stop until you’re done. Even when you leave him in the edge because you’ve come first and had enough. He will remain on that edge until your ready to go again.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s open to it. He likes when you use vibrators or plug on him. He likes when you make him walk around base with a vibrator in his ass that you control.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a big tease. Even if your edging him to the point of tears, he’ll still have something to say. Something cocky just to make you edge him more.

“This…is nothing” he pants, his back arching of the bed as he tried to chase his fading pleasure “I’ve edge myself harder before” it was a lie, but you didn’t know that. “Do better”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is loud. Cute little whimpers and moans. He begs a lot and his voice is always high when he does. When he’s topping you, he growls and grunts at you. He doesn’t bother to hold back his noises.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He likes to dress up. Not like cross-dressing but like give him a bunny suit or some shit and he’s all over it. He wants you to humiliate him deep down. But he’s too shy to be publicly humiliated even though he likes the idea….

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y’all already know our boy is hung like a fucking horse. A nice long dick with a pretty little curve to it. Such a pretty dick he has…

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I think I’ve made it clear that he is READY from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep. He is always hard for you, even when he shouldn’t be. But he secretly loves the humiliation of having a hard on in meetings.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He’s actually surprisingly quick to fall asleep. After he’s made sure you’re okay and fulfilled, it doesn’t take him long to doze off. Usually on top of you. He likes to cuddle you when he sleeps.

1/2/23

[aka-indulgence]

Not the End

Thank you @skelliefanatic for commissioning! I liked this idea a lot, contains MF!Sans being a gentleman /w\

(MF!Sans x NB!Reader [Gender Neutral])

Sans was a man of high class. He had to be, considering his occupation, so you aren’t at all too surprised by his choice of dinner location.

The balcony area was a bit of a surprise, however… you hope he isn’t planning anything.

(CW: mentions of unpleasant ex)

—————

You walked through chatter and clinks of silverware on porcelain, grateful for the choice of clothes you wore. The crowd of the massive, five-star restaurant were the high class, in their extravagant outfits. You wore a velvety maroon cloak that draped over your shoulders, a dark grey turtleneck and green bottoms. You combed your hair for this, leaving your locks of curly hair ordered.

As soon as you mentioned the name of the reserved, the hostess almost seemed to panic, standing up, leading you through the tables. You looked around for the dapper skeleton, but you found him nowhere, until the hostess brought you to a door. When she opens it, you’re led to a private balcony sitting, overlooking the city.

You felt your heartbeats grow louder. It was a beautiful space, with mood lighting, a candle, and it overlooked the purple city, with tall skyscrapers and glowing yellow windows. But seating away from everyone else, with only two chairs made you…

“doll!” Sans stood up, flashing his golden grin at you, his face brightening. You have no idea how long he’s been waiting here- you came at the time he told you to come. “thanks, i’ll take it from here,”

The hostess bowed, and almost too quickly says “Of course Mr. Sans, sir,” before making herself scarce and closing the door.

Sans strolls around and gives you a squeeze. It was weird, seeing just what kind of effect the mob boss had on people around him, while to you he was… a friend. A friend who just pulled your seat out for you, because he was nice.

There’s… nothing wrong with sitting with a friend in a balcony seating. Sans had expensive taste, after all.

After looking through the menu and ordering, Sans looked to you.

“you look lovely today, sweetheart.” Sans complimented. Sans complimented you a lot, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“Thanks! Of course I wasn’t going in with a t-shirt and some jeans if we’re going to La Stella.”

The skeleton chuckled. He was always dapper, considering his occupation, but somehow, his apparel seemed more expensive tonight. He wore a tuxedo that seemed to hug his form better, with a red handkerchief in his top pocket. He had a crimson brocade tie with intricate patterns that flickered with the candlelight. His tux also seemed almost iridescent, with how it looked almost black, but where the moonlight hit him, looked mauve.

Sans was actually quite the slob when you knew him personally, wearing stained shirts and throwing his ties on the floor to the point where his brother yelling at him was a constant background noise in his house when you visited.

“Or is this your strategy on roping people into shady deals with you? By charming them?”

“nah, i pretend i’m a demon when i meet them. for you, i’ll be an angel,” Sans cooed sarcastically.

The conversation continued well after your meals arrived. The conversation eased you, reminding you that this was the Sans you knew. Even if everything looked different, from the surroundings to the suit he wore, Sans was still Sans.

“What made you think to eat at such a fancy shmancy place? I thought your favorite food were hotdogs,”

“hey, i’m not a cheapass either, just that i ain’t a picky eater,” He says, after a bite of tagliatelle. “anyways, i gotta repay you someway,”

You looked at him incredulously. “For the cake I baked you the other day?”

“five stars,”

You giggled, noticing the wind that blew through your hair and your cloak. You closed your eyes and took a breath, letting it out with a sigh. It’s not often you get fresh air around here, and you turned your head to beyond the balcony. It was getting later, and there were less lights in tall buildings. It gave the city a warm glow from below, from the street lights and the rabble walking home. You didn’t notice Sans smiling at you, taking you in, until his larger hand presses on top of yours.

He says your name softly.

“you’re… an amazing human. i’m so lucky i know you… your beauty takes my breath away.”

You frowned.

“i was… wonderin’... if i could call you mine.”

His fingers wrapped around yours. Your heart dropped.

No… no not again…

Before you knew it, you yanked your hand away from him like he was fire, pushing back from the table, your knee bumping into the table. Sans eyelights shrink.

No… he’s going to yell at me.

“s-sweetheart?”

“No, Sans, I,” you’re distracted. Your breathing sounds like it’s in your head, and it’s deafening.

You don’t know what the point of standing up was, just that you felt like the world was falling out under you as your knees buckled. Sans catches you before you could fall, and you don’t know if having him hold you was better or not. But you trust Sans.

I’m panicking. But I can’t stop.

At least you weren’t in the main room.

Sans looked around helplessly, carrying you back to your chair, and knelt beside you, keeping his eye level with yours.

“darling, i don’t know what’s going on, i dunno if you’re sick or…”

You sniffled, head pounding. “I-I’m sorry Sans. Please don’t be mad at me, but… I can’t say yes to you. I don’t know if I… not now, at least,”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you thought Sans was upset. But when you looked up, you see a look of relief on his face as he sighed.

“god… you scared me. i thought you hated me, or… havin’ a heart attack or somethin’. is that all?”

You don’t follow. “You’re… not angry?”

Sans chuckled. “well… i ain’t happy about it, but… hell no. why would i be mad at you? you’re more important than anything. you’re not mad about me askin’ you out, right?”

“No.”

“then i’m fine. but… it looks like you aren’t.”

You didn’t respond to that.

“... can i ask you… what’s got you all worked up like this?”

“... Yeah, you can.” You brush a hand on your cheek. “Sorry… I just feel so stupid,”

“you’re not stupid.”

You smile appreciatively at him. “It’s just… I know you’re not him.”

“... him?”

You told him. You told him all about the last time you had a boyfriend. An extravagant spender that you wouldn’t doubt would be part of the group that’d try to kiss up to Sans if they knew each other. You don’t remember how you started to like him, just that by the end you couldn’t handle him anymore- picking apart your outfits, your body, throwing a tantrum every time you didn’t do what he wanted when he wanted you to.

Sans isn’t him. You wouldn’t find so much comfort being around him otherwise, but… he lived a similar life, with the same expensive living. It made you think of unpleasant memories sometimes.

No was a scary word to you.

As you finished explaining, tears involuntarily fell out of your eyes, and you turned away from him.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault,” you told Sans, trying to keep your voice stable.

“... it’s not yours either,”

A gentle hand turns your face back to his, and Sans wiped the tears off your cheek, tucking your hair back.

“shh… it’s ok. it’s ok to cry,” Sans sighed. His brows furrowed, perhaps thinking about your ex, but he shook it off, smiling at you. “it’s not your fault, it never was. of course you’d be afraid of rejecting me, i can imagine,”

He looked away, teeth frowning as he thought. “i’m not angry at you, ok?” He reassured you, “just… angry i couldn’t help sooner. but you don’t gotta worry about me, heh… i’m a big guy, i can handle a lot of things. i’ll wait however long it takes for you to reciprocate.”

You smiled at him, touching his hand and finding comfort at the way he squeezed yours.

“But… what if I never do?” You worried. You like him, and somewhere, you could imagine being a couple with him, but… you aren’t sure.

To that, Sans just shook his head.

“as long as i got you in my life one way or another, i’m happy.”

[wolfertenerisian]

Josko Larkiavantoa

[Artist Note: This was also a second Art piece I commissioned a friend to do another OC of mine!] Without any delay... °˖✧✦─────••.. ˚｡˖✩★✩˖｡˚ ..••─────✦✧˖° Josko Larkiavantoa, known by his longer name Josko Balvata-Haltan Larkiavantoa or by his Kosanic name, Jo'ko La-kavan'toa is a Kosan born Xeno [Exo] Jackal four armed, four-eyed Male. He hails from the esteemed Larkiavantoa Family, renowned for their reputable real-estate enterprise, which includes a wide range of sought-after residential properties, including apartments under LarkiaHomes Corp. He was also the former ex-lover/boyfriend to Linda A.S. Cortez whom he had bumped in his Early Middle school years & they hit it off wonderfully as sweethearts (That title for him & Linda came later in high school). Name: Josko Larkiavantoa [Kosan: Jo'ko La-kavan'toa] Nickname: Joskoti/Joski DOB: February 20th, 2939 [Earth Years: 1902] Hometown: Bam'zil-ca, Talindi, Unikosa Residence: Vaz'icka, Talindi, Unikosa (Current) Paternal Father: Vogono Larkiavantoa Maternal Mother: Kal'lina Larkiavantoa "Calvata" Paternal Tribe: Talindi Tribe State Maternal Tribe: Malciroc Tribe State Occupation: Real Estate C.E.O. Businessman (Currently) Personality: Despite appearing serious on the surface, once you get to know him well like Linda and their other friends have, you will discover that he is actually a laid-back, loyal, and amicable individual who is unafraid to unwind and savor the simple pleasures in life, something he continues to do. Art ©️ AleesianiCool Josko ©️ ME As always enjoy the Art Piece & stay FANG-tastic!

[toomiieimagiines]

Umumum, did you see the kissing hcs you did for akito and tsukasa? I would like a rui one if that's okay :3

It feels weird to request something like this

𖦹 hii! don’t feel awkward about it, i’ve been waiting for something cute like this for a while! let’s stop torturing rui for a while, and let him kiss reader!! (o^^o) sorry for hiatus, i have a bunch going on rn but i have a ton of writing qued up now! i’m just using a short one first to tease u guys! lololllll! do u guys like the new bullet points btw? i just think they're the cutest thing! also, i was thinkin of opening up some sort of commission to help with my banners! i can write you a however long fic if you just give me some pointers… or make some for me… i can credit you under every time i use them as well! LOLOLZ

♪ no warnings! (see before one shot for those warnings tho! (＞人＜;))

Rui Kamishiro Kissing Hc’s + more!?

☆ For starters, he was TOTALLY freaking out before your first kiss

☆ He just wants to impress you! Is that so wrong?

☆ DEFINITELY the kind of person who accidentally keeps his eyes open… Scary…

☆ He had never kissed anyone, or even dated! He didn’t want you to think he was weird if he messed up!

☆ Held your cheek so nicely too

☆ He’s always so gentle with you… :(

☆ Was a total wall for a while, he was always really tense…

☆ He did of course lighten up after a while, but not without a fight

☆ After he realized you weren’t out to get him, he turned into a FIEND

☆ “Sweetheart, I've been doing so good, y’know? I think I deserve something…”

☆ “I really missed you today…”

☆ Kisses with him always have a bit of reluctance to them, though

☆ His signature move is the tried-and-true shifty eyes, darting his gaze from yours, down to your lips, and back up again. He just wants to make sure you look into it!

☆ After that, it's brow-furrowing, the passion exploding

☆ Spontaneous kisses are VERY possible with him, throwing himself over to you when something particularly works in his favor

☆ He enjoys kisses that come from hugging the best. Feeling you close AND getting your lips on his? Sign him up!

☆ He’s also one to tease you when you kiss

☆ When you guys are comfortable, you really should watch out!

☆ He likes to pull you back when you least expect it, and WHAM!

☆ Doesn’t just love your lips either! He’s OBSESSED with kissing the top of your head!

☆ Again with the teasing, he likes to play Romeo and kiss your hands too

☆ He likes to be kissed on the cheek a lot, especially if you wear makeup and leave a kiss mark!

☆ Parades it around like a trophy

☆ The most offended you’d ever see him is if you wipe his kiss off. NEVER wipe his kiss off. He’d never kiss you again in fear he’s an awful kisser

☆ His kisses never really get spitty. If you want constant teeth clattering or biting, he’s not the one for you…

☆ Only time anything hasty happens is when he’s really upset

☆ He loves you - a ton - so please be nice with him too..

ayyyyy!! who’s proud of lil ol’ me?? here’s a mini mini oneshot! not long at all, but i thought the idea was cute! now that i think abt it, this was more just my musing… has a kissy kiss tho, so yay! it’s REALLY OOC sry… i’m rly not all that proud of this work, but it’s embarrassing how long it’s been since i’ve posted so i decided whatever take wut i give ya!!

TW: small issues with eating (rui has autism and trouble with textures (mild ARFID), you help him by trying to make nutritious food he won’t want to spew. . lmao… his problem has NOTHING to do with body image/weight, he’s just very particular..)

Rui wants to kiss you, you want to kiss Rui, and its causing you trouble.

It's been 4 years since you've been friends, 2 days since you've been dating, and you've been staring at each other for… how long are these stupid periods? Whatever, the short story is; the teacher made a million-dollar mistake (letting you two partner up for a group project), and everybody in your class is suffering because of it.

It's a classic story, you talk like everything’s normal, brush hands, look away, sputter something out, stare at each other, and freeze when you realize the other is staring right back. People - yourselves included - have seen you two be so natural together, so the simple fact of you two being so awkward is… unsettling. Little did they know, you both are going through some of the worst identity crises known to the angst-riddled teenage mind.

Rui is scared. To expand, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you. To expand further, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you, because you look so nervous around each other all the time since the thing, and he knows that asking you would be awkward enough to want to dig himself a grave out of embarrassment.

He wishes you would just wear the pants and ask, as horrible as that sounds. Why should he be the man and make the first move? He’s hardly manly, he wears striped sweaters…

He finds that way of thinking farcical, he knows it’s dumb to wait for you to ask, but he can’t help it. You asked him out (kinda, it was a genuinely… unique experience), and you should be the one to initiate a first kiss. Rui had never kissed anyone before! Can’t you take one for the team? He’s sure you’ve kissed people, how could you have not?

You were thinking the same thing, of course.

I mean, you already had to make him sit through your painfully long-winded and uncoordinated confession, the least he could do is this! He's definitely kissed someone, you decide, you haven't! It isn't fair to expect you to know what to do!

To everyone else, said simply, you both look schizophrenic.

The way you two decide how to split up the work, the way you two talk to each other as if you're perfect strangers, is confusing for both of you.

“O-Oh, uh- I can- y'know- I can do the writing, I don't mind-”

Your hands graze the others while reaching for the cheap school laptop.

“Sorry!-” You both squeak in unison, pulling away as if you had burned each other. Damnit! This is so annoying! You have to speak up.

“Rui we’re- c'mon, you're still my best friend, so why’re we acting like this?-” You try to laugh, covering your face in frustration. “Be normal, we do this all the time.”

Fortunately, he loves you more than his embarrassment, so your words quickly calm him down.

You both are just so dramatic!

Later, the lunch bell saves you from the hell-sent assignment, and you meet at your usual spot for lunch. You pull two lunch boxes out of your bag, and he grows anxious.

He squints at the sun, his hand cupping his face. “It’s been warm out, even for me. Do you think so?”

Really, Rui? You want to say, small talk? Is this to get out of the real food you want to feed him? Yeah, right.

“You’ll be pretty warm when I strangle you.” You remark, handing him his. “Heard you get sweaty when you fight for air, so you better not piss me off.” You point for emphasis, forcing down your smile. He has to keep from smiling too.

“Well, now i’m feeling nauseous,” he looks away, chuckling. “I think I’ll call someone..”

“Yeah, right. Like you’d find someone else to cut you cutely-shaped vegetables.” You nudge him with your shoulder, pointing again to his lunchbox as if to say eat. Eat now, or die later.

“Maybe a toddler's mom,” He pokes his veg to the side, “or a professional lunchbox maker. Something stupid like that.”

“I bought you soda candy if you’re a good boy and finish all your vegetables.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” He fake saluts, looking at his lunch with a new-found determination.

“You're too easy, I should be a dog trainer.” You sit, watching him inspect the offending food. He knows you're watching him, and you know he knows you're watching him. You do it because it gives him a reason to actually try, letting him know that if he doesn't eat, you won't.

“You really went with a challenge today...” He squints.

“Why’d you think I bought soda candy?”

“Ah.”

A beat, you glare at him.

“Are you just going to look at it?” You prod, he ponders.

“What's my conversation rate?”

“Two bites to one candy.”

“That seems greedy.”

“Candy-flation. Its a real issue nowadays.”

Another beat, you have to pick up the silence again.

“So whats the plan?”

“You can eat, y'know. I'd rather you not starve to death.”

“Feelings mutual, Rui.”

“Touché.”

He picks one thing up, bringing it to his lips, and you do the same. You smile cockily, knowing he gave in.

“It's good, I promise. I only cooked ‘em for a little bit, so they shouldn't be too mushy.” You speak up, a piece of chicken in your cheek. “I even put meat in it, since you complained last time that it was too “vegetable-y”.”

He nods, chewing slowly with apprehension filling his body. As he continues to chew, however, his reluctance melts away slightly. He always doubts you for nothing! Why doesn’t he trust you? This isn’t bad at all.

“Good, huh? Proud of you,” you encourage. “Rui 2, broccoli 0. Hold out your hand.” You instruct, placing a candy on his palm. “Give me some feedback. Is the sauce a Rui yay or nay?”

“Makes broccoli better, so I like it.” He nods, confirming himself. You fist pump, thrilled he enjoyed it. He sighs at the taste of the sweet gummy, “I like this better though, if you could believe it.”

“Rui liking candy? I don't!” You feign surprise, holding a hand to your chest. He pushes you away playfully.

“Whatever,” he pauses, swallowing. “Do I uh- Do I have to finish?”

“If you wanna live, then yeah.” You joke, holding up an unconvincing first. He laughs.

You two forget about your shared desire, if only for a little bit.

It ends when he walks you home.

You guys were completely normal the whole school day! You both don't know where the sudden apprehension is even coming from, and it’s just…

awkward.

Rui clears his throat, pulling on his coat with an unneeded sense of urgency. You don't know why he felt the need to get your attention, you've been sneaking glances at him for the last 15 minutes.

“So, uh-” he starts, looking away. You know he's about to try for small talk, and it's welcome. “Tsukasa got sick, can you believe it?”

Ah, you were wondering why he didn't have anything to do today.

“I feel bad for his parents, I’d hate to have to nurse ‘kasa back to health,” you snicker, and he joins in reluctantly.

“Me too.”

Another round of silence overtakes the two of you, it’s suffocating.

“So I-“

“Would you-“

You both start, then stop just as quickly. The stifling atmosphere of your shared embarrassment leaves you both speechless.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You two don’t try to start again, not until you two reach your house.

“So…” you start. Everything feels so surreal. If you would've told yourself three days ago you'd be in a relationship with your best friend, you’d have never believed yourself.

“So.” He agrees, nodding. He's feeling as messed up as you are, he hopes you know that… “I can get started on that project tomorrow-”

“C'mon, Rui!-” you exclaim, grabbing his hands. You're sick of the tension - the apprehension - you just wanted to know where he was with it. Did he not want to be in a relationship with you? “I- Can you just tell me if you wanted to stay friends? This is so awkward!”

“It's not that, truly.” He defends, squeezing your hands. He can't believe you'd think that. Can you not see how endeared you are to him? A wave of relief washes over you, though. At least that suspicion wasn't confirmed. “I just- well…” He starts, getting flustered, “I get nervous…” His voice goes quieter, and he pulls you closer.

You swallow hard, your faces closer than before. The urge comes back- the feeling of desire to not only call him your boyfriend (something that already leaves a fuzzy feeling in your stomach), but to do romantic things with him. To touch him, hold him, breathe him in- even simply kiss him. Those things are why you decided to even tell him in the first place, why you were so discontent with your previous friendship.

Rui felt the same way too. He found his heart utterly devoted to the idea of you, and not much else. He saw in himself a restless animal, listening to every word you said like it was poetry.

All of this is to say that you two were at an impasse.

“Rui,” you beg, staring into his eyes, “let's be weird! I want to do things for the first time with you! I want to-”

A hand on your cheek breaks you from your monologue; your heart tightens.

Rui looks down at you, his expression something you can’t completely describe. He stares at you back, then he goes down to your lips, then back at you.

His voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence.

“Is this okay?”

You freeze. Is what okay? Why is he looking at you like that? Your knees turn into jelly as you realize.

Oh, he wants to kiss you.

You nod feverishly, leaning in.

Your collective thoughts quiet when your lips connect, and for once you’re not worried about trivial things like tension. It’s wonderful - still very reluctant, both being terrified of disappointing the other - but still heartskippingly amazing.

His eyebrows furrow as he deepens the kiss, moving off of pure instinct. He’s glad his first kiss is with you - he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no teeth, no fire, just small bursts of heat. You two have never been the kind to be rough with each other, after all, and it’s shown in the way you take care of one another.

His knees lock at the feeling of total gentleness from you, basking in the way you feel. It’s a calm reminder to both of you that; yes, you love each other, and no, you’re not just friends anymore.

like all good things, though, it came to an end eventually, as you two unfortunately had to breathe. (That isn’t to mention the fact that the blistering heat - combined with the strenuous activity, and embarrassment of doing this while standing on your very seeable porch - was leading you both to an embarrassing amount of perspiration.)

He looks down at your connected hands then back up at you, his face giddy and lopsided. “I should go home before it gets too dark, huh?”

You laugh too, heart pounding at the feeling of puppy love. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It’s not a question, it’s a promise. A promise that you WILL be at school and WILL speak to him like normal.

“‘Course,” he confirms.

He walks home just a little quicker that night, anxious to tell Nene all about it.

(the ironic thing, is that as soon as you closed your front door, you texted her too.)

[nilboxes]

You're so right for toxic fubu aven, I wish people would stop equating him as someone who has no choice or control over what happens when in most scenes he's the one with the high ground and authority over the situation.

How do you think Ratio and Aven in his toxic fubu era would interact ?

Sometimes I feel like I'm putting the dial up to 11 a little too much, because Aventurine has always been a sweetheart on the outside, and toxic fubu is a little "one-facet" read on him but like, I just really am tired of him being characterized as a baby damsel uwu uke when he's actually a dudebro deep down. People are free to characterize how they like but like, I am also free to call it out as an interpretation that has gone a little too out there and it's not in the "spirit" of the character anymore.

Anyway

My friend on twitter succinctly puts it— "Aventurine is always where he wants to be, whether or not he is happy about it is another question entirely" and I have been thinking long and hard about this, to ne he is "where he is most advantageous in position" such as being a Stoneheart in the IPC but whether or not he is happy to be there is irrelevant, he is where he would be able to do what he wants with the most effectivity etc etc. His cornerstone is literally "Stratagems" which is also turning a bad situation into a good one.

So regarding uhh how Aventurine would be with Ratio during this era— I don't touch upon this in fics because I am waiting for Diamond appearance, but my personal headcanon is that Diamond periodically sends moles as potential partners to Aventurine as a way to fuck with him and potentially gain more influence/control over him. I kinda want to explain his fuck boy-ness through this, he knows he's being lead on, he is being baited, and he's playing the game and using the people sent to him in turn.

If Ratio met him during this time, I do believe Aventurine would still like, fall in love with him at first sight (let's say the Final Victor LC and my fic shenanigans where I imply Aventurine influenced bringing Ratio over to the IPC/IG was a thing) he'd be so smitten... he'd realize he doesn't want any other partner except Ratio, he doesn't even get off properly anymore (he's still the best at fucking though) and all his thoughts is consumed by how he's going to have Dr Veritas Ratio in his bed and his life.

He would really start a courtship with Ratio, he would like, get advise from various anonymous places to figure out how to woo the Doctor. He'd engineer a way to meet him and have introductions made. Give flowers, write letters (commissioned ones but he'd also add personal touches) and basically do all that until Dr Ratio agrees to go out to coffee with him (Not even dinner ToT coz Ratio is so hard to get to know) and they'll build from there, all the while Aven wouldn't be doing the casual sex anymore (much to Sugilite's sadness :()

[myz-wykkyd]

The top reference was made by myself in 2021, the bottom was made in 2019 (watermarks are my old username). The templates I used can be found here and were made by Unearthy.

Additional art from left to right, was made by Athren, CNWGraphis, kiirino, and bakawomans <3

Note: Any variation of "I don't like Endeavor, but-" is not wanted in my comments or reblogs. You aren't obligated to like the character, but I don't appreciate my art or character being used to vent your frustrations when I'm just trying to have a fun time. I WILL BLOCK YOU IF YOU DO.

Old Art I made of my BNHA / MHA OC Suisei Murasaki<3 Suisei used to be my main oc and I was once as obsessed with her as I was Rosalie. She's still very near and dear to my heart ofc and after catching up with mha I was recently reinspired to work on her again. She's got a new reference on the way but until then I thought it'd be okay to share some of my older pieces/some art I've commissioned of her over the years. BIG LORE DUMP UNDER THE CUT.

You can view her TH here for more indepth information. Not all of it is up to date. But TLDR: Suisei Murasaki, also known by her hero name Andromeda, is a Pro Hero whose flashy quirk and philanthropy helped catapult her into stardom at an early age, and eventually lead her to achieving international fame. She is best known for the fun, game-show like tv shows she frequently hosts to raise money for charities, but she also does modeling work on the side and often appears as a guest teacher at her former school in-between her hero work. She doesn't take paycuts- instead she opts to donate money she makes to families in need.

In front of her audience she is perpetually cheerful, hardworking, dramatic and even a little silly at times. But it’s an act that she has chosen to keep up to avoid burdening her friends and loved ones with of her rocky personal life after the sudden loss of her husband.

Her Quirk has been tweaked a bit since 2019 so the one listed on her old reference isn't completely accurate, but basically it allows her to take on the properties of and fly through the air like a comet- making her extremely fast and strong. I've saved a few clips over the years of what I think it'd look like, so here's an example.

She was high school sweethearts with Endeavor at U.A and they remained together for a few years after their graduation, but they broke up when his obsession with becoming the number 1 hero began to interfere with their relationship. They fall completely out of connect. Suisei moves on and she eventually meets, falls in love with, 'marries', and has a child with a man who is actually All for One in disguise- but she doesn't discover that until much later (probably sometime before the Final War). After AfO's fight with All Might, he disappears without a trace from Suisei's life, and she's left heartbroken and unable to find any answer or explanation. So is forced to assume the worst. MHA first begins, she's just returned to hero work after being an hiatus for a while. She spent that time recovering and taking care of her child.

After her return, she eventually reconnects with many old colleges- including Endeavor. She joins Hawks in lending support to him after All Might's retirement. She ofc discovers she is still attracted to him, but I imagine the two simply remain friends throughout the rest of the series duration. But I guess in my personal story, Rei and him eventually divorce and he gives his family the space from him that he thinks they need while continuing to support them anyway they can. Only then do I imagine Suisei and Endeavor's relationship is finally rekindled a few years later. In this scenario I imagine Suisei and Enji have a daughter together who eventually becomes a pro-hero named "Red Star".