#and breaking down my thought processes behind the ones that really work for me.
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snickerdoodlles · 13 days ago
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some thoughts on writing humor for anyone interested;
if you want to incorporate more humor into your writing, what you really want to practice is timing. writing humor is rarely about writing an individual funny line-- you don't remember the punchline because of the line itself, you remember the punchline because of everything else that came before it. a punchline without a proper build up or proper timing is just a non-sequitur.
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so, when writing a humor fic, a good thing to remember is that the punchline comes last. you can't have your funniest line at the start of your story. think of it like action-- if your first fight is the boss fight, any fight of lower stakes or difficulty that follows is going to feel lackluster in comparison. you want your story and your jokes to build to the final line, or else you'll step on the joke and lose its impact.
and this does take practice! putting the joke at the end doesn't always feel 'natural' at first, learning how to structure and build a humor story is a skill the same as learning how to do it for any other genre. personally, i'd also say humor is something that really comes out in the editing stage more than the initial drafts-- humor is very reliant on timing and rhythm, and it's hard to find and stick to a story's pacing when you're still working on the overall story structure. i mean, this sort of thing tends to go for any sort of writing, but nothing makes humor fall flat faster than wonky pacing and so (for me at least) editing is the stage where the story goes from "oh, haha" to actually funny.
(i also bring this up because fandom has a lot of jokes about not editing a finished draft before posting-- and like, totally feel you, i'm not huge on editing after i reach the end of the draft. however, i have noticed in fic circles where people will get caught up on and sometimes even discouraged by trying to be funny in the fic larva stages when the framework to be funny just isn't there yet. personally, i highlight the humor lines i'm unsure about and move on. then, when the fic's closer to 90% done or so, it's much easier to skim the overall story and cut/format/refine/etc any jokes because they're already highlighted for easy finding.)
another thing to keep in mind is that humor as a writing device is often used to release tension. i would say this is a large part of why humor often falls very naturally into scene transitions; that natural release of tension is very useful as an 'end bracket' to a scene while also setting up the audience to be freshly wound up again. this feature is useful for stories aiming for a more light-hearted tone overall, but in general stories often incorporate humor as a way of controlling a story's pacing so that the tension doesn't get too tight too fast. even if a punchline isn't your end goal, you're still building up to something and it's really helpful to edit your humorous lines by asking "does this fit with my scene/story's pacing, or is it disruptive to my buildup?"
it doesn't really matter how funny an individual line might be on its own-- if its disruptive to the story's overall flow, the joke's effect is going to come off as strained and forced. because humor is really an exercise in structure and story rhythm, the most ineffective way to study humor is to fixate on the individual jokes you remember in your favorite stories-- instead look for the threads that came before the joke that made it memorable, and then practice doing that in your own writing. usually when humor falls flat in a story, it's because either the specific joke pops out of nowhere (missing the build-up) or the joke is in the wrong spot in the story (disruptive, breaks reader immersion). sometimes the fix is as easy as reshuffling a few lines, other times it's a matter of adding more to the build up, or even cutting it altogether so that something else packs a bigger punch.
tl;dr-- i'm repeating the old adage "in comedy, timing is everything." if you want to get better at writing or incorporating humor into your stories, it's honestly more important to practice when to drop a joke than the specific wording of the joke itself.
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heeliopheelia · 9 months ago
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
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genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
word count: 4.3k
warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding
a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!
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LEE HEESEUNG
It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 
“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”
It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.
“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”
“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”
He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 
“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 
“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 
He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 
You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.
After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”
He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.
And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 
“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 
Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.
That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 
“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.
“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 
You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”
“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”
“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”
Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 
“Really?”
Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”
You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”
He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”
“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”
Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”
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PARK JAY
The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 
His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.
Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 
And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 
“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 
The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 
“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.
“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”
“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 
Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 
Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 
A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 
With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 
You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.
And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 
You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 
You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 
There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?
Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 
And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 
You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 
“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”
“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 
He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 
He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”
“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”
Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 
He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 
“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”
“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 
“I love you.”
With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.
“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”
He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.
He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.
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SIM JAKE
“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”
He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”
“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”
Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.
You’re honestly getting tired of it.
“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 
“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”
“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”
“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”
To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 
“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”
You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.
Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 
You feel awful. 
Jake feels even worse. 
Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”
“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”
At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 
You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.
“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”
“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 
“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.
“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”
The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”
“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 
His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.
“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”
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PARK SUNGHOON
“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 
And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.
“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”
“Fucking- Fine.”
Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 
You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 
“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 
You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”
“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”
The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 
“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”
No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 
“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”
With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 
He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.
“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 
He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.
So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”
You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 
“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”
And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 
He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 
You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 
“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”
You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 
“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”
You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”
His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”
You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”
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hinge · 5 days ago
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Not-So FAQ for LGBTQIA+ daters
A growing resource addressing LGBTQIA+ daters' most pressing questions
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Hear more about #HingeNFAQ from Roxane and Debbie at https://hinge.nfaq.co
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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thinking of how rafe wouldn’t want you to work while pregnant
that man would be so stressed, since day one!! and bartender!reader would noooot give him a break, still covering bartending shifts even tho she was the manager bc she simply enjoyed doing it every once in a while. and he's like ?????? will you sit your ass down PLEASE. but you're not listening, if there's ONE thing the pregnancy hormones gave you was extra attitude. somethin' along these lines:
rafe could feel his jaw clenching as he watched you across the room, rolling your eyes for the third time in the past five minutes. you were doing it on purpose now, deliberately ignoring him while standing behind the bar, mixing drinks like you weren’t six months pregnant.
the bartender had called in sick, and you, the manager, jumped in and covered for him. rafe crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, and tried not to look too annoyed, but fuck if it wasn’t hard.
you still had that spark in you, that independence that drew him in from the start, but now? now it just made him worry.
worry like he never thought he could.
“you’re really gonna give me a heart attack, y’know that?” he called out, his voice carrying over the chatter around the country club.
most people were too busy with their drinks and golf gossip to notice you two bickering, but anyone paying attention could see that familiar dynamic. you doing whatever you damn well pleased, him trying to keep his cool, which he never really could when it came to you putting yourself at risk.
you glanced at him over your shoulder, hands moving like second nature as you garnished a drink. “’m fine, baby” you told him, voice just as breezy as ever, like the huge bump pressing against your shirt was nothing more than an accessory. “it’s just a couple hours.”
there was that old habit of yours—acting like everything was fine when you clearly weren’t. or maybe you were, but that wasn’t the point.
the point was, you shouldn’t have to be there.
“you say that, but i know you’re gonna be hurting later,” he muttered, pushing off the counter and walking around to your side of the bar.
his hand landed gently on your waist, thumb brushing the small of your back like he always did when he wanted to get you to stop for just a second.
“c’mon, baby. just take a break, you don’t need to be on your feet like this.”
it wasn’t that you didn’t want help—you’d worked through that over the past couple years—but that stubborn streak was still there.
“’m not some porcelain doll,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes again, “’m not gonna drop dead because i’m pregnant.”
he felt his stomach drop when those words left your mouth. "jesus christ, woman," he muttered, his eyes widening in exasperation. "don’t say that shit.”
“alright, my bad,” you gave in, “didn’t mean it like that.”
rafe sighed, his hand still resting on you. he hated when you talked like that, like you had to remind him how capable you were. of course he knew. 
"promise me you're taking a leave starting tomorrow," he practically begged you despite attempting to sound firm, but that undertone of worry had been his constant companion ever since you'd found out you were pregnant. 
"next week," you sang back, not even looking up from the drink you were finishing. 
you were still in work mode, determined to keep things running smoothly despite the fact you should’ve been at home, resting.
"tomorrow," he insisted, leaning in closer, his voice softening but no less serious.
you turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "next week, or you’re not getting sex for the next three months. now get outta my bar.”
rafe blinked, his jaw going slack as he stared at you, completely blindsided. 
“what—"
“go on,” you gestured toward the other side of the counter with a flick of your hand, “out.”
his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, like a fish. he was processing, but slowly.
"but… baby," he whined, his voice dipping into a tone that could only be described as kicked puppy. “just—wanna make sure you’re okay. that you’re safe, and you’re not overdoing it. you can’t kick me out, i need to be around you.”
you gave him that look, the one that told him he was pushing his luck. "rafe, i swear to god—”
he let out a long, dramatic sigh, but started to back off, lifting his hands in surrender.
"alright, alright, ‘m going," he grunted, dragging his feet toward the exit like a kid being told to go to bed. but before he did go, he turned back one more time, his eyes pleading. "i’ll be outside if you need me."
"of course you will," you muttered, shaking your head with a half-smile. you knew he wasn’t going far, probably just far enough to hover and peek through the windows, pretending to give you space but unable to help himself.
"i love you, stop spiraling," you called out after him.
he paused, turning back to look at you, his expression softening.  
“love you too.”
822 notes · View notes
weediee · 7 months ago
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New Orleans Beignets
HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)
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Summary: Y/N is one of the leading bakery owners in the entirety of New Orleans! People travel minutes, hours to try the sweet treats that reside within her bakery. But there's one special radio host who's obsessed with none other than her famous New Orleans Beignets.
E/N: This is based off of Princess Tiana's Beignets. It was too perfect not to make into an Alastor story so why not + she's one of my favourite princesses.
This story isn't proofread so it's not perfect. Also I haven't written for a while so I might be a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy it anyways! x
No trigger warnings besides some light kisses! (Lmk if I forgot any.)
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Rainy afternoons were never the brightest time for those in New Orleans.
The freezing cold, the shivering of finger tips, the multiple layers worn in hopes of being able to keep at least a little bit warm. It was always certainly a surprise when people realized that instead of the usual sunlight and humidity, it was going to rain.
So, what do those in New Orleans do during these miserable days? Well there's one of two things. Stay inside, bored half to death, or go find a nice place to have a cozy meal and settle down for the day. And what better place to go rather than Y/N's bakery?
That's the thought that Alastor thought of every day when these storms swept through New Orleans (and every usual day too.)
No rain, hail, nor shine could prevent him from leaving the studio on his lunch break to go check on his dearest wife who was slaving away in her bakery, and in the process of greeting her, he could never resist stealing one of her heavenly Beignets.
"Hello, anyone home?" Alastor spoke loudly, his radio voice on show as he entered the door. He watched as Y/N perked up from behind the counter after hearing the short chime of the door opening. "Hello, stranger." She laughed softly, standing up straight to brush off her dusty apron. It was adorned with pastry batter and powdered sugar from all the sweets made throughout the day, if anything it was just a sign of how hard she worked.
"Yes, I did prepare your Beignets darling." She admitted without a question needed, walking over to her husband to pass over a small brown paper bag, inside two hot Beignets showered perfectly with powdered sugar. They smelled divine, it was like heaven itself had been baked into two small pastries.
"Just how you like it." She nodded slightly, moving forward to kiss her husband's cheek nonchalantly.
"Thank you my dear, without you I fear I would starve!" Alastor laughed, looking at his wife with such a thankful and loving look plastered across his face. "You truly are such a darling when it comes to spoiling me."
"Only for New Orleans finest radio host." She said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Alastor leaned forward, kissing her forehead softly for a moment before pulling away, smiling down at his gorgeous girl. "And only for New Orleans finest Beignet maker."
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E/N: I'm tweaking I hate this. Am I still going to post it? Yes.
PLEASE don't be hesitant to send me some Alastor ideas or head cannons you'd like me to write. I really don't enjoy writing without a plot like this story, you can see the laziness within my work.
All dandy though, have a wonderful evening everyone!
- Weedie 🥀
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shunsuiken · 10 months ago
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DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).
pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader
genre. fluff
wc. 200-400 for each character
an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33
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kaeya alberich
you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.
“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”
“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”
oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.
he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.
“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”
kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”
“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.
klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.
you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”
“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.
you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.
“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”
“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.
“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.
childe
you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.
his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.
the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.
ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”
you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”
he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.
“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”
“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”
“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.
if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-
when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”
kamisato ayato
these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!
thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?
“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”
the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.
“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.
he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.
“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.
ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”
your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”
you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!
“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.
“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.
“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”
kaveh
three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?
“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”
the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.
kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.
“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?
his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”
you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”
kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.
your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.
“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”
neuvillette
“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.
but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.
“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.
when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.
“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”
the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!
but why can’t he bring himself to say no?
the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.
when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.
it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.
“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.
neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.
“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”
neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”
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zepskies · 8 months ago
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Calculated Risks
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)
Word Count: 7K
Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.
“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”
The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.
Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.
Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.
But again, he was holding firm.
He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  
“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”
“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.
“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”
Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”
You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.
“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”
“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”
Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.
You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 
Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 
He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 
“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”
Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.
“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”
Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.
“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 
You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.
“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”
You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 
“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”
The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.
In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.
Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”
That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.
“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”
He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.
“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”
Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.
“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”
Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”
Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.
“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”
His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…
Until you heard a whimper.
You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.
Your heart broke.
“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.
Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.
“Lila?” he prodded.
He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.
You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.
“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”
When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.
You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.
Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.
She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).
Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.
The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.
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Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.
You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.
“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.
All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.
You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.
“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 
First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 
So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.
You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.
“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 
After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”
You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 
“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”
She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.
And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.
“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.
She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.
With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.
“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.
“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.
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“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.
“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”
He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”
“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”
The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.
“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”
Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.
“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.
“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”
For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.
He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.
“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”
At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.
Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.
Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 
“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”
“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.
Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.
“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.
“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.
“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 
“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 
“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 
“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 
“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.
You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”
You snorted at that.
“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.
You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.
You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.
And we’re off.
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Lila wasn’t having a good day. 
She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.
She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).
She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.
Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 
“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.
Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 
But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  
After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 
Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.
And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?
Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 
She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 
She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.
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The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 
A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 
You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.
You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.
Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.
You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.
“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”
“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.
“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”
You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”
“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.
You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.
You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 
But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 
“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 
It all happened so fast. 
You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.
Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 
Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.
You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.
Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.
The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.
His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.
“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”
“How? Being a human shield?”
“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 
“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”
This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.
“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 
You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 
“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 
You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.
You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  
As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.
His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 
He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 
Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.
Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 
“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 
Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 
“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 
“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 
While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.
If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 
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“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”
Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 
Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.
“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 
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“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 
“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 
But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 
“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”
He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.
“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 
Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”
“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.
“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”
“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 
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Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 
They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.
He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 
She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 
“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”
“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 
“L…Lila,” she said. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 
Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 
After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 
“Let’s go find him.”  
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Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 
“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 
Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 
“Daddy!”
Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 
“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 
Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.
“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”
“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.
Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.
“Ben,” you uttered. 
“I’ve got this,” he said to you.
“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”
“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”
Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.
Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”
“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 
Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.
“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”
He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.
It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.
You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.
It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.
Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 
While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.
Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.
Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 
For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 
When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 
“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.
“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.
Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 
You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.
“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 
There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.
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You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 
Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 
“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.
Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.
“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.
You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 
“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 
Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  
“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 
You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.
Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 
“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.
"Mhmm," Lila agreed.
You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.
Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.
Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”
“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”
She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 
You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 
“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 
Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 
But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.
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Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.
Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…
He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 
That was sort of how you felt inside.
“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 
You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 
“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”
Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.
“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”
Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.
“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.
“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”
Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.
“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”
You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”
Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  
You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.
“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."
He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.
“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”
It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 
Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.
You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 
Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 
“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”
After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.
“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.
You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”
He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 
“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 
Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 
He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.
“I love you too,” he said.
With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.
“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.
He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 
For once, you didn’t argue with him.  
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AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Aside from the major one-shots and mini series within the BMD-verse, there are some fun Imagines and Headcanons as well. Remember to check back on the series masterlist for more BMD stories.
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starrydragoness · 7 months ago
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Hii, i hope this doesnt sound too weird or anything (im really new to requesting), but can i request a safeword scenerio for dr Ratio? Maybe he is uptight because of some idiots he had to deal with, or nervy because of overworking, and in bed he starts to talk and move harsher than usual, making his s/o safewording. If possible please also how he would take care of them afterwards, thank you :D!
A/N: Thank you for your request! I do hope this is what you had in mind :) Implemented some of my own hcs into this, so I do hope Ratio isn't too OOC. I just don't see him as mean or harsh with his s/o as I see some people portray him as- Gosh I can ramble sm about him, I'll stop here. Please send more Dr Ratio asks/requests in, I'd love to ramble about him
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Content: NSFW, mdni! Ratio being a secret sap inside(?), gn reader but can be hinted at female anatomy, no pronouns used
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Fervent thrusts of his hips into yours knocked the air out of your lungs, sending your eyes rolling back into your head as shameless moans flew from your mouth in a torrent. Veritas seemed completely insatiable, groaning into your ear and whispering dirty things.
“You’re so tight, did it take so little to get you all wet and worked up, hm?” It was like he was scolding you.
You could’ve guessed how his day has been, judging solely from the bruising grip he had on your hips. You would’ve asked about it had he not all but cornered you and stolen your breath away with an onslaught of kisses and nips to your neck and chest. Clothes were torn off from you and him all the same, but somewhere along the lines it became apparent his frustration began to blur, work anger seeping into this intimate and vulnerable moment as his hips pistoned into yours with little regard. It wasn’t like him, in all his stubbornness and in all pursuit of knowledge he’d never treat you like a piece of meat. He had made a mess of you, a heap of flailing, boneless limbs and hickeys and bite marks along your collarbone and chest.
A lewd squelch accompanied the slapping of skin as his cock rammed into you. “Ve-Veritas-” you panted, hands moving from around his back to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving behind red crescent moons. “Slow down, ngh-” Those words fell on deaf ears, your moans and small whimpers being the only thing echoing in his mind. One of his big hands unlatched from your hip and came up to your throat, his fingers squeezing lightly on the sides until you felt yourself getting dizzy with pleasure, but it was all too suffocating, too overwhelming and so overstimulating, you felt your heart race and cold sweat break over your skin. 
Veritas groaned into your ear before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, bottoming out inside you over and over and over again until he felt you squeezing his shaft and fluttering around him. 
“Y-Yellow! Yellow!” 
Veritas quickly lost his hold on your neck, his body reacting faster than he had time to process it. All he knew is how uncomfortably tight his throat became when he heard you squeak out the safe word, his whole stomach churning as he pulled away. And only then did he really see how reckless he had become.
Your teary eyes stared up at him, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths to quell the fire within your lungs. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze in what you could only understand was embarrassment but as he stumbled over wordless questions, his mouth opening and closing as he slid himself out of you and all pleasure forgotten, you couldn’t help but look back at him and open your arms in a silent plea for a hug. "Just hold me.."
He obliged without a second thought, his big arms enveloping you in a warm embrace, but he was hesitant to touch you after hearing the safe word fall from your mouth. 
He rolled onto his side, dragging you with him and letting your curl up against him however you wished as you hid your face in his chest. One arm was safely secure around you while the other hand absentmindedly ran through your hair, soothing your nape in hopes to bring you further comfort.
“My.. dearest.. What have I done? Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?” his tone, much softer and so full of concern, licked at your ears and sent a shiver up your spine. He sounded more hurt than you.
Once you regained your breath you broke away from his chest and looked up at him, all disheveled and messy with eyes still glassy. 
“I’m sorry.. But you were.. quite overwhelming- You came home and you wanted to be intimate, and that’s okay. But you were starting to take out your frustrations on me, Veritas..” you told him earnestly. There were no lies between you, and Aeons knew he’d know if you lied to him. He grimaced at your words, not because you said them, but because he couldn’t believe he allowed himself to fall that low. You felt him huff, felt his warm breath against your skin and he pulled you closer. 
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for- It is me who should be saying so. And I am so sorry.. I.. I don’t know how I lost myself so..” he trailed off, his eyes swallowing you in their plea for forgiveness or perhaps they were telling you to scold him - he really didn’t mind, as in his head, right now he felt as if he betrayed your trust. His facade of perfection crumbled as he gave into these animalistic urges and he hurt you along the way.
Sighing, you pushed yourself up a little until you could peck his cheek. His lashes fluttered as he took in the sight of you, blinking at you before leaning in to press his lips against your, the palm of his hand resting on the small of your back and pressing you against his warm body.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again, looking into your eyes. 
“Sore.. probably gonna turn into a plum later from bruises-” you tried to lighten the mood with that little joke but Veritas instead let out a sound bordering between a sigh and scoff, clicking his tongue as frowned, angry at himself. “I’m sorry…” he whispered as his arms dragged you along with him and his other hand pressed at your nape to pull your head to his lips. One, two, three, four and many more kisses fell all across your face, making their way all around before reaching your lips, upon which he placed the softest of kisses.
“I’m sorry.. I'll.. You stay here while I go and draw us a bath. I’ll be quick” He’d say as he pulled a blanket over you before sliding from underneath you. 
“Don’t forget the bath salts” you smiled, teasing him and holding onto the fingers of his hand, not allowing him to peel himself away from you just yet, and this prompts a smile to tease his lips but he is not yet ready to really forgive himself until he has soothed your bruises away.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes while his cheeks flushed as he pulled away after nodding his head firmly in return
“When have I ever forgotten the precious bath salts?”
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Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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scarletwinterxx · 2 months ago
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game boy - jeon wonwoo imagine
hiiiiiii ~ i know i'm not the only one kicking their feet whenever this man appears on the screen. I can't get him out of my mind (even if i try)😅😅hope you like it!
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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"Since when are you into gaming?" the voice from behind you asked, you immediately put your phone down as your roommate take the seat across from you.
A knowing smirk on her face.
"Since I was a kid, I'll have you know I'm a pro at building houses in Sims" the lie slides out so easy you almost thought your roommate believes it
"Oh so not because you think that gamer dude is cute?"
It's not the first time she's seen you watching his live, sometimes she can hear it from your room behind the closed door or your phone sitting on the counter as you wash dishes.
Maybe you really are into gaming or a bigger maybe you might be into the dude who's gaming.
"Who? Him? I just scrolled past his live, totally random" you shrug your shoulders
"Mhm, so I didn't hear you squeal last night when he went live after going on a break for a month?"
"How did you know he was on a break?" you ask
"How did YOU know?" she asks back. She caught you there, when you don't say anything she just laughs. "It's okay to admit if you're crushing on him, I'd understand. He's all yours though"
"I don't have a crush on him"
"Mhm and I'm not failing Spanish"
"You know what I'll leave you here, you need to study and I need to go" you tell her while you gather your stuff on the table, "You're not actually mad right?"
You chuckle at her question, "You weren't wrong so I can't be mad. Anyways, bye"
It took a few seconds for her to process what you just said, by the time she did you're already out the library.
You walk out the campus premises, the weather's great so you decided to just walk. You put on you're earphones and enjoy the scenery, your feet on auto-pilot ready and set to take you to your destination.
When you got to the building, you let your self in and giving the building's doorman a wave on your way to the elevator. You punch the code on the keypad to let yourself in, the inside of the apartment a stark contrast from the bright sun outside. The black out curtains are drawn making the room dark like it isn't 4pm right now.
You take your shoes off and put your stuff down before getting your phone to see if Wonwoo is streaming and sure enough he was.
He's also a student in your university, he streams when his schedule lets him. Whenever you're alone you let his videos play in the background, kind of like a white noise for you.
You get some snacks from the kitchen, then walk to the window to let some light in before getting comfortable in the living room while you finish some of your pending works.
After a while you hear Wonwoo say goodbye to the stream then the screen turns dark. You turn your phone off, putting it back down on the coffee table.
From down the hall, you hear the door open then footsteps coming towards the living room.
Wonwoo spots you immediately, sitting on the living room floor with books and notes infront of you and your phone lying on the side. You must've been watching him.
"Oh, when did you get here?" he smiles at you, walking towards where you were then taking the vacant space on the floor beside you. He sits sideways so he's facing you, legs resting on either side of you.
"Like 30 minutes ago, you were in the middle of your stream so I thought I should finish some of this" you point at the piles of paper infront of you before turning your attention back to him "You had fun? You probably missed streaming"
"It's fun, some of the viewers and a few followers asked where I was last month I just said I needed a break" he smiles back at you, tucking a few strands of hair back then giving your ear a pinch making you giggle at the action.
That short break was actually the two of going on a trip as your first anniversary celebration. He surprised you with a trip outside the country for two weeks, just in time for term break so it worked out fine.
He could've streamed while the two of you were away, he has a laptop he could bring or stream when you got back after the trip but instead he chose to spend that time with you. It was nice having his undivided attention. Not that he ever made you feel ignored, never.
"You'll break so many hearts when they find out you're not actually single" you let out a short laugh
"I never said I was, after our first date whenever someone asks if I'm single I would say no" he says to you
"1st date? but that was such a long time ago" you recall the memory of your first day. You've been crushing on him for a while, like since you first saw him, and by some miracle one day he asked you out on a date. The two of you went to the aquarium then dinner. He courted you for a while before the two of you became an official couple, but even before that you already know you weren't going to let go of him that easy.
Here you are now a year later.
"I know" he shyly admits.
"So what do you say? You just say you're taken?"
"Kinda, I don't like talking about my personal life online so I just answer in the most simple way. I never denied I had a girlfriend so I guess it's up to them if they didn't get it" he shrugs
"Huh, I didn't"
"Huh?"
"I watch your streams, guess I never caught on"
"You watch my streams? Until now?"
"Yeah, I like watching you. It's comforting, kinda like my own comfort show"
He knows you watch him, whether you're in the same room as him or here in his home or when you're back at your own place you always tune in his stream. You really are his biggest fan.
"You know my roommate is starting to catch on, she thinks I have a crush on this 'gamer dude'" you make air quotes at the nickname, this makes Wonwoo chuckle
"Do you now?" he teases
"Yea, I think he's kinda cute. Apart from that time he wore that black button up. I was ready to throw hands"
He laughs at that, remembering just how you barged in his gaming room after the stream ended.
"You're never letting that go are you?"
"Never, you looked so good I almost grabbed you out of the screen. Not fair they get to see how hot my boyfriend is"
Wonwoo blushes at your words. Those words being used to describe him isn't new to his ears, but it's different when you say it. He can feel the butterflies flutter in his stomach, something only you can do.
Not even the scariest game can make his heart race like you.
"Do you want do drop by on my next stream or whenever?"
"Drop by?"
"I mean like just... be there. If you wanna show your face it's okay but if you don't want to it's okay too. No pressure. I don't want you thinking any of those faceless names on my screen can ever replace you" letting the words tumble out one by one because your gaze is making him nervous
You just stare at him as he talks, slowly a smile forming on your face then you're attacking him with a hug
"You're so cute, you know that?" you mumble against his neck where your face was pressed against, he chuckles at your question. Tugging you closer to him until you're straddling his lap
"Just making sure you know"
"I know, I always know. Don't you worry about that, just do you okay? I'll be here right beside you always. No matter what it is you want to do"
And he knows that too. You've always been his cheerleader, the one who always talks him into things he never thought about doing. In a way, you brought him out of his comfort zone in the most comforting way. You being there always eased his mind.
He smiles at you again before closing the distance between the two of you, giving you a kiss like he's saying he missed you today or all those days you weren't with him. He just always makes you feel like you're meant to be there with him.
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lvlyghost · 1 year ago
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Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing
how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.
What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk
But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭
The Weight of the World
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.
A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕
Masterlist✨
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You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.
Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.
Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?
To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.
The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.
The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.
"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.
"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"
"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."
"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"
"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."
"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"
"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."
It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.
You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.
-
Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.
You.
The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.
Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.
You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.
You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.
The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.
The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.
It's all on him.
He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.
"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."
Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.
"Love..."
"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.
Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.
"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"
Shaking your head and biting down your lip.
"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."
"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."
"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."
You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.
"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"
He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.
"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."
"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."
A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.
"You took it off..."
"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."
"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.
"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.
"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.
You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.
"Yeah. We're still getting married."
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fanbasetwo · 28 days ago
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first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?
IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂
✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON
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001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader
002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.
003. GENRE , smut
004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.
005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K
MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3
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You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.
Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.
In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.
So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.
The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.
“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”
“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.
As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?
Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”
You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”
He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”
Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.
You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.
“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.
It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.
The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.
You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.
“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.
Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.
You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.
When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.
Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.
"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."
Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.
His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.
Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.
"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.
"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.
"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.
Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.
Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.
"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.
"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”
Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.
A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.
He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.
Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.
"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.
"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.
"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."
He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.
"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."
You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."
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NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕
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© fanbasetwo | tumblr
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extinctlesspains · 1 month ago
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heyy can you pls do a kwon x y/n story, that y/n and Kwon are already dating and their in the Sekai Taikai as captains, and y/n is kreeses granddaughter and she’s a literal SOCIOPATH and blud is insane 💀 and she saves him from his death by taking the knife before he grabs it and running with it with another guy (probably Diego from the spanish dojo) from a dojo chasing her upstairs and she casually just pushes him off the railing and he’s the one that dies and y/n gets away with it and she’s like ‘it’s not my fault, he shouldn’t of chased me and he knew about the knife) and Kwons kinda like ‘wtff’ but he’s so in love 💀💀
A/n: LMAOOO THIS IS GOOD😭 I worked really hard on this y'all... I hope u enjoy 😓💕
𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔
𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠
»»——⍟——««
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»»——⍟——««
𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
��𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑡𝑏ℎ 𝑖𝑑𝑘... 𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑂𝑅? 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑅?
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑠, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼𝑓 𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢? 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟... 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒.
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑟, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑌/𝑛.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
Kwon loved you. You were his partner, his love, his everything. Being the granddaughter of Kreese meant you were amazing at manipulation, combat, and you had ruthless intelligence. Enough to break a man in both body and man.
The way you carried yourself—poised, dangerous, and utterly indifferent to the weight of lives—was something that both terrified and fascinated him.
Today was no different. You stood tall at the forefront of the Cobra Kai team, your eyes scanning the other teams. Your expression was unreadable, but Kwon had learned to understand the little things—the subtle flickers of excitement behind those cold eyes, the way you moved ever so slightly when she was truly intrigued. He couldn’t help but admire you.
He thought today was no different yet it had become different.
It happened in the blink of an eye. As the match ended, a sudden commotion erupted behind you. A figure lunged at you from the shadows—Diego, the most dangerous fighter from the Spanish dojo, a man who’d been gunning you since their last encounter. He’d seen the way you moved, the way you fought, and he didn’t like it.
Kwon saw it all happening too fast and wanted to reach out and help you, but he already his hands full.
Diego was coming for you.
You didn't flinch, making your movements fluid, almost graceful, as you swiftly disarmed Kwon, who was holding a knife, when running past him. Your hand snatching the blade from his grasp before he could even comprehend what was happening.
In one smooth motion, you were on the move again, darting down the hallway with Diego hot on your heels.
Kwon’s heart raced as he began to follow, completely ignoring hi fight with Axel and leaving him baffled. There was something in the way you were moving now that made him hesitate. You weren't panicking. In fact, you were calm, almost too calm.
"Y/N!" Kwon shouted, running after you, his feet pounding on the stairs behind you. He saw Diego just behind you, the knife in his hand now, desperate to finish what he started.
You reached the staircase that overlooked the main arena, a steep drop to the lower level. You were running with fluid speed, effortlessly leading Diego up the stairs. But then, in an unexpected flash, you turned.
Kwon barely had time to process the movement before your hand shot out, shoving Diego in the chest. He didn’t even have a chance to scream before his body was sent careening over the railing, falling to the floor below with a sickening thud.
You casually brushed your hands together, as if nothing had happened.
You didn’t even look back.
Kwon stood at the top of the stairs, frozen in disbelief. His eyes locked on the twisted body of Diego sprawled at the bottom, blood slowly pooling beneath him. His thoughts were racing. What the hell just happened?
It was then that you turned to face him, your face eerily calm as you strolled back toward him, the knife still in hand. Your smile was so unsettling that it made his blood run cold.
"It’s not my fault," you said, tone utterly matter-of-fact. "He shouldn’t have chased me. He knew about the knife. He made his choice."
Kwon blinked, still processing your words. His heart was thudding in his chest. He knew exactly what you were saying, and part of him understood it, but the other part—the one that had been so in love with her—was beginning to unravel.
"You… you pushed him," he said, almost in disbelief.
You raised an eyebrow, expression never faltering. "Yes, I did," you replied simply. "But don’t worry. It’s not my fault. He was going to die anyway. If I hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve. It’s survival."
Your gaze softened for a moment, and Kwon swore he saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.
You stepped closer, and for a moment, Kwon didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to shout, to be furious, but the other part—the part that had fallen for you, that couldn’t resist you—just melted under your gaze.
You were a monster, but you were his monster.
"I had to," she added with a shrug. "You understand, right?"
Kwon blinked, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He had always known you were dangerous—hell, he'd seen you kill before. But seeing you do it so... casually, as if it were nothing, unsettled him. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to be angry.
He reached out to you, pulling you close. His voice was soft, but there was a hint of something dangerous in it as he spoke. "You’re insane," he muttered, his forehead resting against yours.
You smirked, your hand trailing up his chest. "I know," you whispered. "But I’m your insane."
Kwon sighed, his heart still racing, but he couldn't deny the pull between you guys. You were a sociopath. You were ,terrifying. But you were his—and no one else would ever be able to tame you.
"Let’s go," You said, your voice light. "I’m bored of this place."
Kwon didn’t know whether he was going to survive this relationship. But he knew one thing for sure: He would follow you anywhere.
As you two walked off into the chaos of the Sekai Taikai, the crowd oblivious to the brutal death that had just taken place, Kwon couldn’t help but wonder what his life had become. But as long as he had you by his side, the world could burn, and he would still choose you.
After all, it was just self defense.
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alienpossession · 2 months ago
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You have to do more Mike and definitely explore some shenanigan with Steven back home. And maybe explore the trainee system more like what apushforfolly did in the original version. Love everything you do!
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In regards to Mike, well, he did pretty solid for the cause despite Master's departure to the States. The nerd that stayed behind witnessed at first how Mike wasted his potential and charms with endless parties and lonely workout, so one particular night, the nerd intervened during dinner
"You have to go back to your root. Look inside that meat puppet's mind to find his essence as a human and exploit it for the cause, don't just waste your time with aimless parties as if you're still not the Master's subject. He will be disappointed seeing you wasted such a good puppet, you know?"
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"Oh, you wanna see me working? You wanna see me utilizing all the charm this puppet has? Just so you know, we travelled from light years away, I deserved some break. But if you challenged me, well, even the entire city can be under my control,"
"Well, I'll let your action and achievement speaks for itself," the nerd said as he left the dinner table, not interested to see Mike any longer unless he brought some tangible proof of his success
----
The following morning
"So it seems like someone is back to his good old routine once again, no more travelling for a while, I'm staying put, so it means I have some more time available for me to kickstart my online coaching program once again. I'm looking for 8 people who are willing to bust their ass and ready to give 100% effort in order to take that physique to the very next level. You will be working with myself, my team, we will guide you along the way and coach you for over 16 weeks period so this will take you up to the end of this year. If you find this interesting, click the link below--"
And as the story ended, the nerd blew his load all over his sweatpants as his thoughts already went ahead with the idea of Mike subduing all the 8 clueless men thinking they'll get better physique with the help of a renowned fitness coach only to be turned into mindless, docile puppets. And that's exactly what happened as the updates started to appear in his chat between Mike for the next couple days. It surely didn't help that the Mike's puppet really managed to drive the points home with his detailed description on the takeover or what kind of conversation he is having with the prey, either on the way to the takeover, mid-way the process or after the whole thing. For example, this video Mike sent to the nerd right at the same night of Mike's morning call for participants drove the nerd to breaking point as Mike said
"Finally, you look better with mini-mes swimming inside your brain, you were so dumbfounded at first when I spat on you huh?"
"Yeah fuck that, you know Joshua is a bit gay for ya, that spat turned him on LOL!"
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"Well, you clearly looked quite eager, Josh. Maybe you do like my spit *proceed to spit to Josh gaping mouth, which Josh reciprocated with swallowing it and then licking his lips*"
Right when Josh lunged to Mike for a sloppy kiss and what probably happened right after, the video ended as Mike grabbed his phone right in time to end the videos.....
Several times, rarely though, Mike even boldly have a video call in public with the puppet in tow to describe what went down to the nerd
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"Hey there dweeb, I know you know this daddy. Exactly, Frederick is now part of our little collectives! Are you around? We are in his usual cafe where you eyed him a couple weeks ago editing his Youtube content, do swing by if you wanna get stuffed by his dad's cock, yeah you pervert, you watched a good and harmonious family vlogger to lust over the dad and thinking how you can corrupt him, well here he is ready to pummel your mouth with his musty cock fresh from his workout regimen with the reliable Mikey,"
Of course the nerd ran for his life to the cafe 3 blocks from his office upon receiving the video, but again, that's not really a normal occurence as Mike mostly just sent a picture with accompanying short caption after his conversion, like when he described the first puppet he converted after the "call for clients" video released
"Happy to inform that there's a brand new controller inside Leon Walker,"
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You gulped as your face turned beet red as you found yourself unable to swallow your lunch due to the shock you got from the text message that just casually popped up in your phone.....is he for real?
"Yeah, I know you subscribed to his OnlyFans, well, look at how helpful I am for you by turning your favorite content creator to give you free, even better and outlandish performance for private! Come join us later tonight in my penthouse for the exhibit! I know you've been commenting how insanely hot it will be for Leon to suck his own cock while getting his butt plugged, well~~~"
Other times, the message that accompanied the possession tend to be even shorter
"Explaining the hierarchy of the puppet to the recent convert, he was such a tool that only knows how to workout, he should be thankful that an alien takeover his body,"
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Or "greedy muscle beast of a fucker got what he deserved, turned into 270 lbs bottom bitch with no more free will for a boutique gym boy like me," which caused the nerd to burst out in his day job's office bathroom upon receiving the update
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Yet, as explained before, Mike loved details so, when the client is extra special, he went on to great details explaining the whole sequence. For starter, when he explained how he took down Mike's hometown best friend
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"You should have seen his face when I slapped the cold slimy alien right to his ear mid-workout. He is Mike's best friend from his previous lives and my memory is so vivid, I can really tell that they both loved each other but simply not informed, some kind of unreciprocated love. And the thing is, the love is reciprocated, they just didn't mention it to each other when they still could. Or maybe it's all just my made up story LOL, both of them are straight as an arrow and he even married last year to this beautiful woman which he will abandon as he is only going to serve Mike now. I mean, you really have to feel that tight hole of his, it's surreal, and that made him a great asset to have around with me. Truly a tale of two best friend finally connected once more and become inseparable ever since"
But there's nothing that prepared the nerd for Mike's latest conquest, as the nerd wakes up this morning to the news that the startup he worked for just got bought by a VC and the deal was finalized last night. The company's messaging app turned chaotic as "CEO Office" released a rather cold statement that there will be a townhall later today to explain on what really went down and what's the direction forward for the startup while all the staffers, even some of the upper management, frantically communicated with quite colorful words among each others.
The nerd tried to contact Mike to explain to him about this dire situation and whether Mike has solution to get the nerd's out from the predicament, but much to his surprise (and sick arousal), Mike sent a video around 30 minutes ago with the simple caption of
"See you in the office"
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His softening morning wood went hard once again as if there's a button being pressed and he instantly started to leak as he realized what Mike did. Is Mike for real? His own CEO? The nerd knows that his boss is hot but this is something they discussed before, that he wanted to have an environment where there's no alien whatsoever and just people doing regular jobs to keep some semblance of normalcy in an otherwise crazy world of the extraterrestrial debauchery. Seems like Mike didn't keep that part of the agreement with this breach, but deep down, he's very much aroused that Mike finally didn't listen to him and even went against his wish. As another picture appeared from Mike followed with the sign of him typing another message, the nerd looked at his screen anxiously
"This was yesterday, moments before disaster, for him obviously. In the next 24 hours after this picture is taken, he's braindead, divorced his wife with a simple text message and sell and exit his beloved startups to pursue a lifelong passion for converting people to Master's way outside of this cramped desert country and having a nerd licking his body dry and practically become his live-in servant as they travel across the world. The question is, will the nerd resign from his boring human job and join his braindead former boss he fantasized every night?"
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Then, the phone rings, it's his CEO, and he clearly knows what's his answer gonna be
------
Will make Steven's later, wow so happy that some of yall are still excited for this series! Keep the suggestion coming!
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cosmicdahlias · 3 months ago
Text
You Know What You Do To Me
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
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You work as Ford’s assistant, you’ve been teasing him by acting like a little harlot. You went too far and now you’re going to be punished for it.
warnings: smut, oral, mdom
i’ve really enjoyed writing these fics! it’s been so long since i’ve been passionate about something like this 😭
It was another afternoon working at the Mystery Shack. You were dusting shelves, thinking about later tonight. You had two jobs, by day you sold overpriced knickknacks for your boss, local con artist Stan Pines, and by night you worked for his brother, Stanford. Before he even came back through the portal you were a big fan of his work, Dipper regularly lent you the journals during your breaks. You pored over the material, longing to meet the author.
When you met him it was a typical day, typical as things get in Gravity Falls. You were helping Soos fix up the place after the town had turned upside down, he filled you in on the cause. A portal, Stan had a brother who had been missing for 30 years, and more importantly this brother was the mysterious author you so desperately wanted to meet.
You were in the process of nailing a shelf back to the wall when you heard a door open behind you. You turned to see a man who looked nearly identical to Stan, but better posture, and somehow… cooler. You knew instantly this must be the man behind the journals. Your heart skipped a beat, not just from the excitement of finally getting to see the author, but because you couldn’t get over how handsome he was.
He looked at you and you felt yourself turn into a puddle. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush slightly, but convinced yourself you were seeing things.
“OH MY GOD THE AUTHOR IS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME!!! BE COOL!!! BE COOL!!!” You thought rapidly.
He made his way over to you and extended a hand to you, six fingers, the symbol on the journal’s cover made so much sense.
“Stanford Pines, you must be one of Stanley’s employees.”
“Y/n. You’re… the author of the journals.”
“You’ve read my journals?”
There it was again, the faintest tint of red on his cheeks.
“Yeah, multiple times. Your nephew lends them to me sometimes. I’ve always been into the weird and paranormal.”
“Well it’s always a pleasure to find someone who appreciates my life’s work.”
-
In the weeks that followed Ford would ask you to become his assistant. He insisted he was getting too old to do these things on his own. You loved working with him, unraveling the mysteries of this town. It gave you a sense of purpose.
The tension between you two was more than palpable, but neither of you had been willing to admit it to each other yet. Your time together was filled with stolen glances and flushed cheeks.
As you finished dusting a snow globe your mind wandered to your mentor. You had been pushing the limits lately, trying to get his attention. You wore more and more revealing clothes, you would drop your pen just to have an excuse to bend over in front of him, you would find reasons to stand close to him. You could tell it was driving him crazy, he would awkwardly excuse himself and disappear for ten to fifteen minutes, returning breathless.
But you started to think yesterday might have gone too far. You were sitting to the right of him as he was writing in his research notes, you pulled up your skirt slightly, slipping a hand down to your-
“Y/n, can we talk?”
You jumped, Ford had a habit of moving silently. A valuable skill when you’ve spent the last 30 years in other dimensions constantly staring death in the face.
You let your heart rate settle. “Yeah, sure.”
“Good, follow me.” He motioned you with his hand.
You both walked down the stairs to the basement where his lab resided, he turned to face you.
“Look, y/n, I know what you’ve been doing.”
You turned scarlet. You decided to feign ignorance.
“What do you mean?”
He exhaled a deep breath, massaging his temples. “Don’t play this game with me, you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Wearing shorter and shorter skirts, giving me bedroom eyes, finding any reason to bend over in front of me, and then yesterday-” he paused “yesterday you went out of your way to drive me crazy. You sat next to me, hiking up your skirt and you-“
He drew a shuddering breath, stepping awfully close, his chest almost touching yours “teased your clit over your panties, knowing full well you were in my peripherals. And you did that on purpose, stopping whenever I looked your way just to torture me, not letting me savor such a gorgeous view. I thought about you all night, I came with your name leaving my lips. And now-“ he pulled out a chair “you’re going to sit in front of me and touch yourself.”
“Ford-“
“No, you were so eager to do it yesterday, what’s stopping you now?”
You felt yourself grow wet under his words, you sat yourself down in front of him.
“Take off your panties, go ahead, take them off.”
You slipped the fabric down your legs and off your ankles letting them drop to the floor in front of you.
“Spread your legs, let me see you. Pull that skirt up.”
You obeyed his instructions.
“Now, slip a finger in your cunt and use your wetness to stroke your clit.”
You let your finger travel down to your dripping pussy, you traced little circles on your clit. You let out a sigh, Ford was watching you touch yourself, you had dreamed of this.
A growl rumbled in his throat, he watched you hungrily. His cock strained in his pants, he wanted to touch himself, but he couldn’t, not yet. You moaned softly, your brow furrowing in concentration.
“Faster, don’t stop.”
You picked up your pace, rubbing frantically, your moans growing louder, echoing through the lab. You hoped no one upstairs could hear you.
“Tell me how it feels.” He demanded.
“Mmmh, Ford, it feels so good.” You whimpered.
“That’s right, I know it does.”
He stepped close to you, a hand on the back of the chair, looking straight at you. You could smell him, fresh pine and leather. Your breathing became shallow and erratic, you were getting close. Ford could sense it.
“Are you going to cum?”
“Y- yes.”
“Good, look at me.”
You locked eyes with him, he stared at you intently. The feeling on your clit was becoming overwhelming, you were going to cum, dear god you were going to cum for him.
“Nhhh, ah hah, Ford.” You pathetically whimpered out, you couldn’t form a real sentence if you tried.
You felt yourself right on the edge, god you loved this, you loved putting on a show for him, you gritted your teeth in anticipation.
“Stop.”
“Wh- what?”
“You heard me, stop touching yourself.”
You withdrew your hand, your orgasm ruined.
“Why did you- I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been teasing me for weeks, with yesterday being the final straw. Now you’re going to see how it feels. Actions have consequences and you’re going to learn that. You don’t get to cum.”
He pulled you up by your arm, he grabbed your face and kissed you sloppily in pure hunger and desire. He let you go and dropped his hands to his belt buckle, undoing it.
“You need to see what you’re doing to me.”
He slipped his pants down enough to reveal his thick, hard cock. Fuck, he’s big. You bit your lip instinctively.
“Stroke my cock, now.”
You wrapped your hand around his shaft, your thumb massaging the head. He let out a groan of approval and you began pumping his cock. He started kissing and sucking on your neck, he was going to mark you so everyone knew you were his property. He started to buck into your hand, a bead of precum forming at the head. He throbbed, moaning into your neck.
He took your face in his hands again, god you loved when he looked at you.
“Get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth.”
“Yes sir.”
He throbbed at “sir” no one had ever called him that, he liked it. He made a mental note to encourage you to keep saying it.
You dropped to your knees and took his full length in your mouth.
“Fuuuck baby you’re so good at this, no one’s ever taken me all the way down before.”
He grabbed a fistful of hair and began fucking your mouth aggressively. You choked and pulled back. He chuckled.
“Oh poor baby, guess I spoke too soon, I’m sorry sometimes I forget how hard it is to handle a cock like mine.” He taunted while stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll try to slow down, it helps if you make an effort to breathe out of your nose.”
He resumed face fucking you, this time with a slightly more gentle rhythm, but you still felt the inclination to gag. You attempted to steadily breathe out of your nose and felt the urge subside. He clenched his jaw and picked up his pace again, you were really struggling to take him, he liked it that way.
His hips stuttered and bucked against your mouth. He could feel his orgasm rising.
“Baby slow down, slow down you’re gonna make me cum.”
You decided to ignore him, continuing to work your mouth on his cock.
“Stopstopstopstop. Stop!” He growled.
He seized your hair and pulled you off of his cock, knocking you backward. He reached out a hand and pulled you to your feet, then raised a hand and brought it down hard on your ass.
“You need to listen to me, next time I won’t be so nice.”
You savored the idea of being left with a six fingered welt. He lowered his hands to your hips and spun you around. He pressed himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing on your ass. His hand gripped your throat and he whispered in your ear.
“I’m going to fuck you senseless until I finish inside of you and you’re not going to cum, do you understand?”
You nodded fervently.
“Good, you’re so cute when you listen.” He said while slipping his thumb in your mouth.
He bent you over his desk, papers falling to the floor, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other on your hip. He pressed the tip of his cock into you before forcing the rest of his length inside of you. You started to scream out in pleasure, but Ford instinctively clasped a hand over your mouth.
He slapped your ass again. “Quiet, stardust, do you want everyone to hear you?”
He began to pump his cock inside of you, his hips slapping against your ass. You tightened around him and he groaned loudly.
“God I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock, it’s so fucking perfect.” He panted between thrusts.
He fucked you with a brutal intensity. He was doing this for his own pleasure, not yours. Like he said, you didn’t get to cum, not after what you had done yesterday. He pulled out and you whined, paused for effect and slammed himself back in. You threw your head back, moaning his name.
It felt so goddam good to finally fuck you like this after all the moments he had to steal himself away from his work to just to stroke his cock because you were incessantly teasing him. He had imagined you bent over his desk like this thousands of times. The image of you taking his cock like a good little whore was all the could picture whenever he caught you staring at him.
His grip on your shoulder and hip tightened, nails digging into your flesh. He was fucking you faster and faster, he wanted so badly to know what cumming in you felt like. You started to move your hips back onto him. Oh my god he couldn’t believe you wanted him this badly.
“Goddammit yes baby fuck back on my cock like that, you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
You whimpered in approval.
“Would you like that stardust? Huh? Do you want me to cum inside of you?”
All you could manage was a weak “Uh huh.”
He panted like a dog, he was gonna breed you like one. Sweat began go form on his forehead, his glasses fogging.
“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you. When I first met you I thought you were so fucking beautiful. I spent that night stroking myself to the cute Mystery Shack employee. I thought it was just a lonely old man’s fantasy that you would ever show me any interest, but then you started working for me and you would look at me with those eyes. God those eyes, so full of lust and want.”
You felt his cock throb inside you, he was close.
“I’m going to fill you up, have you dripping with my cum. Tell me you want it, I want to hear you beg.”
“Please, I need your cum in me. I need it so bad.”
“Call me sir.”
“Ahhh, hah, please sir, cum in me.”
He moaned loudly as he fucked you with a ruthless intensity. He buried himself deep in you as he came, your name escaping his lips. He didn’t stop fucking you, the feeling was overwhelming but he couldn’t help himself.
For a while there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths. He began to slowly pull his cock out of you, cum spilling onto the floor. Jesus fucking christ he needed to draw this later.
You stayed bent over his desk, legs shaking. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you onto his lap as he sat in his desk chair.
“Are you alright? I didn’t take it too far, did I?” He said stroking your hair.
“N- no, it was incredible.” You said between haggard breaths.
“Good, now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go upstairs and finish the rest of your shift. You are to keep your panties off and let my cum slowly drip out of you. And then later tonight you’ll stay here and I’ll reward you by letting you cum on my tongue and cock, if, and only if you heed my instructions. Do we have a deal, stardust?”
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Having Ford to yourself all night? Holy fucking shit yes.
“Deal.” You smiled.
“That’s my baby.” He said cupping your chin and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
-
You ascended up the creaking stairs back to work. Mind still buzzing with the moment you had just shared with Ford.
“There you are. I was startin’ to think you ditched, but then I- whoa, what happened to you, kid? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” Stan said in his gruff voice.
You caught your reflection in the window, your hair was a mess. You quickly attempted to fix it.
“Ah, uh, I was just helping Ford fix some stuff.”
Stan stared at you for a second before a smirk creased his lips.
“Oh yeah I bet he fixed you real good, kid.”
You turned beet red “No, that’s not what I-“
He laughed. “Look, I’m just happy you two finally hooked up. I was gettin’ real sick of watching you two ogle at each other like horny repressed teenagers. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bet to settle with Wendy.”
“Great, Stan. Thanks for not making things awkward.”
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rubra-wav · 10 months ago
Note
May I Request a part 2 to Dealbreaker!Reader (same characters) but it’s the characters reactions to the reader surprisingly breaking their deal? I loved what you wrote!
Angel, Husk and Alastor with a dealbreaker S/O pt. 2
[ Part 1 ] < > [ More lore on DBs ]
A/N Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, I loved writing this and the last one. Dealbreaker lore brainrot fr.
With how dealbreaking usually goes, it's not instantly a happy ending, unfortunately. These are all pretty happy endings, though.
Fairly long reads for all of these, but it's worth it, I promise 🙏
!(MY REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN. THIS IS JUST LEFT OVER FROM WHEN THEY LAST WERE.)!
Cw: SFW, depictions of violence, mentions of murder, Husk and Angel's is romantic, Alastor's is platonic, gn reader, male reader in mind for Angel's (forgot to add this aaaages back omg)
**Alastor's is written under the assumption that the Lilith owning his soul theory is real + is making a great big assumptions about Lilith + the nature of her deal that will likely be disproven.
She's a great big mystery, I'm just heavily leaning into pure theory in that one.
Angel
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- When you break his contract, Angel is overwhelmed with a potent mixture of relief and gratitude.
- The path this far had been fairly easy as far as the process of actually breaking the contract goes.
- The chains on him were poorly crafted and the format was extremely simple with a lot of loopholes to bust the contract wide open.
- It was honestly much harder to fully knock Angel out of the all-encompassing fear-rooted belief that he was doing something incredibly wrong after years of Val's manipulation and control over every part of him.
- It didn't take long to make the counter-contract, just a few minutes referencing the draft as you quickly wrote everything down upon the page pressed against the filthy bench you were sitting at. Angel hovered over you anxiously wringing his hands as he watched you work.
- The lock on his prison cell was quickly broken, along with the actual collar around his neck.
- You cheered as you threw your arms around the disbelieving man next to you. Angel cracked a smile, giddy as he realised that you had done it.
- This peace was short-lived, however.
- You now had to deal with the consequences of actually breaking Angel's deal. Valentino does not take kindly to people taking his toys away from him, especially not one of his top money-makers and favourite souls.
- You had, of course, crafted the counter-contract that was now clutched in your palm in some random location far away from the hotel so Val wouldn't be knocking at the front door knowing it was done then and there.
- However, you two still needed to run.
- Hand in hand, you run away from the approaching sound of distant but loudly approaching cars with the sound of gunshots echoing, legs and lungs burning with exertion.
- As a contrast to your very evident worry, Angel is laughing joyously and more boisterously then he thinks he ever has as the feeling of the heavy sensation of the collar that has been weighing on him is lifts alongside the inability to speak his real name without choking on it.
- The feeling of his newfound freedom and adrenaline mixes in his body, making his blood sing out in his veins like a symphony. An indescribably rich sensation of being alive that he thought he'd never be able to feel again while sober.
- "So long, you overly tall rat bastard! I've found something that's better then anything you could ever fucking give me!" Angel yells out into the warm air of the night as he flips off the general direction of the sound of the gunshots, laughing all the way as you get to the getaway car.
- You're panting as you crank the car into gear, speeding away and putting the glowing counter-contract on the back seat.
- As the distant sounds of gunshots fades into the distance behind you, you turn to the passenger side of the car to make absolutely sure Angel is really okay as he calms down from the high of the chase.
- Your boyfriend is absolutely beaming next to you, glowing with a sense of natural light you'd never before seen in your time being together. It's a beautiful contrast to the artificial sense of life you are so used to seeing broadcast within the studio and his films.
- He looks so different, and not only due to the disguise he had decided upon to lay low until shit calmed down a bit.
- As you make it to your destination - a small house youd been allowed to stay at courtesy of Charlie - you put the car into park and sit there for a for a few seconds.
- "Holy shit. I did it. I actually freed you. And we're not dead." You said, stunned.
- Angel snickered, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning over to you to kiss you on the cheek. "Never doubted you for a second, baby."
- You laugh, relieved, turning to him and gently pull his face close to yours, kissing him deeply. You chuckle at the feeling of the giant smile on Angel's face.
- As you move to settle in to live in the small house for a couple of weeks, you regret turning on the television.
- Angel's face flashes across the screen with text quickly scrolling past a smiling but seemingly close to tweaking Vox on the screen, the man looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit if one more mild inconvenience happens. The Video Star's eye twitches sightly as if hearing something irritating as he speaks.
- "There is a hefty reward for anyone who can find Angel Dust and the dealbreaker who has interfered with his contract. Any useful information will be welcome. To give us tips, go to the website listed below or call-" You switch the TV off, unplugging it as well just in case.
- If Vox got well and truly involved in this situation to attempt to placate Valentino as soon as possible, this would be even more difficult of a situation. You hadn't much considered the rest of the vees getting involved, assuming they would stsy in their own lanes while Valentino stopped being pissy.
- You shake your head, and move to go to the room where Angel is unpacking. The outside world could wait until later. All that shit could wait until later.
- Angel smiles at you as you walk into the room, such a lightness in it that makes your heart burn.
- You hug him tightly and then fall down on your side into the bed, both of you laughing joyously and filling the empty house with life.
- The road ahead would not be easy, but you were finally on the road to starting your life with him.
- Your life with him as Anothony, not Angel Dust.
Husk
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- The road to forming a counter-contract was hard as all hell.
- Alastor's deals are absolutely air tight, crafted with the uptmost skill and attention to detail, so you finding a vague clause to dig your claws into to get it rolling after weeks of arduously reviewing it again and again was a goddamn miracle.
- When he saw that you had made progress, he's shocked as can be. Has a 'well I'll be' moment as you point it out to him after another sleepless night as he wanders up to you.
- Feels bad for fully doubting you after that. He's still pessimistic about your chances of actually succeeding in the counter-contract, but the flame of hope inside of him sparks to embers as you manage to do what nobody has managed to even remotely succeed to do in centuries.
- When you make further progress, he becomes deeply afraid for your safety. If Alastor ever found out you'd been able to get this far, you'd be toast.
- Never in a million years would Alastor allow someone who's managed to undermine his skills to this degree to live. When you say that you've got it covered when he brings it up, he's incredibly skeptical and is even more concerned when you say you can't tell him 'just in case'.
- Is in utter disbelief when you insist you just stay in the hotel as you actually write the counter-contract to break the deal while Alastor is out doing some shenanigans.
- When you say that you don't, in fact, have a death wish, he's extremely stressed and sweating bullets as you begin to write what you'd been drafting for weeks.
- The lights flash and then go out as you're about halfway through writing the contract. Unnatural green light fills the room and Alastor casts a great big shadow on the wall as he materialises out of nowhere.
- Husk feels dread sink into every part of himself.
- The ground shakes as Alastor physically shows up, much larger then usual and snarling. "What do you think you're doing."
- His voice is dripping with malice and static which hurts your ears greatly, but the movement of your pen on the page doesn't stop even though you can feel your heart thudding in terror and your vision is becoming blurry.
- Husk feels nauseous as Alastor looks down at you, growing all the more aggressive the more he feels his hold on Husk slipping.
- Husk fights a panicked yell as Alastor's neck snaps to the side loudly, now looking directly at him with an absolutely vile grin on his face. He cannot make it in time as Alastor's hand moves to crush you, and he fears the absolute worst as you are no longer in his sights.
- His deep despair is interrupted however, as from underneath Alastor's palm great big rose briers grow from underneath and pry it backwards, revealing you still writing - albeit looking extremely stressed - and the figure of Rosie who looks rather angry at Al.
- Alastor's eyes widen in shock and disbelief that one of his oldest friends are currently blocking him from destroying the one trying to take his property.
- Husk hardly hears the back and forth and stalling that goes on between the two overlords as he's running to you to try and pull you the hell out of here.
- He stops in place as he feels it, and hears Alastor let out a terrifying frustrated growling noise. The green collar and chain around his throat appears, and then it breaks with a loud snapping sound. You've succeeded.
- You actually fucking did it.
- The next few moment are a blur as Husk is rendered motionless and speechless, eyes wide and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as if he's about to wake up from this moment.
- He slowly walks towards you, looking to the side blankly as Alastor shrinks back to his normal size and is escorted out of the hotel with a look of pure bewilderment on his face by a now smiling and laughing Rosie. The leader of the cannibals winks at you and gives you a thumbs up as she leaves.
- You turn to Husk and grin at him wearily, still sweating nervously with clear relief on your face. You literally could have just died.
- Husk sinks to his knees beside you from where you sit on the ground, having fallen from your chair as Alastor tried to crush you.
- Husk grips your face in his shaking hands as he looks up at you. He can now see that one of your eyes is black with a deal you've made yourself but for now he doesn't address it.
- "Thank you." His voice is hoarse, low. Tears stream down his face for the first time in a long long time.
- Your face crumples as you allow your brave face to fall to bits. Your heart is still racing and you are still getting over the fear you felt.
- Husk pulls your crying face to his, leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Thank you so much." Husk says, closing his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks.
- "If you ever do something that fucking stupid again, I'll not be humouring you." He added after the wonderful moment stretched out for a couple of seconds.
- You laugh softly, and nuzzle into his cheek as you kiss it. "You're welcome, Husker my love."
- Husk hums in fake annoyance, but he cannot even hide how much lighter he feels.
- The bonds which had kept him trapped for decades had been broken down all at once, leaving him free.
- He had no idea what kind of deal you made with Rosie, but he sure hoped it kept Alastor the fuck away from you and him for the rest of your lives.
- And, for your sake, he desperately hopes it is not the type of deal you will regret making later.
Alastor
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- The path to dealbreaking Alastor's is bar fucking none with difficulty, mostly because he doesn't want your help.
- Hurts his his ego so much to see that even though his consistent efforts to tell you to get lost have failed. He's opted to scaring you off multiple times and yet you're still relentless.
- After yet another time of him growing into that massive form and snarling down at you, you snap.
- "Maybe I'm 'overestimating my abilities', but what if I'm not? What if a fresh pair of eyes are what you need rather than you just pissing off to your radio tower and staring at everything until you have a mental breakdown over it!" You yell at him weakly as he turns his back to leave. Blood is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and you're only just regaining your vision from the former static, which blacked it out.
- Alastor stops in his tracks, startled that you know about that too.
- "Maybe I don't have as much experience as you, but I have a different mind and way of looking at things! What if that's exactly why you can't break it? What if whoever it is knows how you think so they've designed this thing so you can't do this alone?"
- You can't see Alastor's face, but he's standing there still not saying anything. One of his ears is pointed backwards in your direction. He's actually listening.
- You gulp, and stand up shakily. "What if they knew that you would never seek assistance, so they've done things which won't be visible to you and only you. If you just give me a chance." You're no longer shouting, rather speaking in a tone you're trying to keep even despite how afraid you are.
- Alastor grits his teeth, ears twitching as he considers it. He's pissed off because you're actually making a good point.
- It goes against every instinct in his body, but suddenly, he's right in front of you, holding out his hand to you as he glares menacingly at you. "A week, and if you find nothing, you will never fucking approach this with me again, or share what you have seen and heard about my deal with anybody."
- You gulp audibly. It's a ridiculously slim deadline for this kind of business, but it's more than nothing. As you accept the deal, he utters a single word you're shocked to hear.
- "Lilith."
- Without any further words, he disappears, leaving a glowing copy of the contract at your feet.
- The week of reviewing the contract was utter fucking hell.
- it's not just that the contract was super air tight, it's just that it was so ridiculously complicated and hard to understand that you could hardly fucking comprehend what you were reading most of the time. It was utterly maddening.
- Your breakthrough, however, came not through solely just reading the words, but from actually talking to Lucifer himself about Lilith when he came to visit the hotel while Alastor left.
- As per the deal, you didn't share anything about the contract, but you did ask about her in private with him and he was actually surprisingly happy to discuss her.
- So that's, how on the last day of the deadline, you cracked the contract wide open with a counter-contract draft you had written in a few hours.
- Alastor almost screams out in pure unadulterated fury when he sees what you've written and hears the explanation behind it.
- Lilith wasn't some skilled dealmaker hellbent on controlling demons. She was a broken down dreamer who had no idea what she was actually doing in the contract, but being Lilith, her words held so much weight that they'd chained him despite that.
- It actually takes every bone in your body to not burst out laughing with how utterly humiliated he looks.
- His ears are pressed forward on his head, and he's making an odd high-pitched audio feedback kind of sound as his face is hidden in his hands.
- He'd been stressing over this thing for years as a skilled dealmaker looking at it, and yet that was exactly why he couldn't do it.
- Couldn't do what you did in a fucking week.
- "So, do you want me to undo this thing now or-?"
- You startle as suddenly he's in front of you, both hands on either one of your shoulders.
- you try so hard to not snicker as you see his expression finally, but fail. He's pressing his still ever-smiling mouth into a crooked line, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed. Dark flush covers his cheeks and neck.
- "Yes. Please." He says those words as if they are poison in his mouth. "I'm.. Sorry. That I underestimated you." Alastor opens his eyes to look at you as he begins to regain his composure a bit more, the hard part of this interaction being over with.
- Fortunately, and also infuriatingly, Alastor had not had his soul contract used once. Lilith simply had him in her back pocket and didn't lift a finger whenever she felt him try to break it again and again. It's like she didn't even give a fuck that she literally owned him.
- This fact burnt hot embarrassment and frustration into him as it destroyed his ego, but now it was a relief as she would most likely not try and come after him. Or you for that matter.
- His claws grip painfully into your shoulders as you fail to stop snickering loudly in disbelief that he actually apologised. Admitted losing essentially.
- "S-sorry! I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this." You apologised.
- Alastor gritted his teeth. "Don't get used to it." He growls before his mask slips right back on like it never happened. "I'm simply admitting my mistake in assuming you could not do this, darling! It turns out you truly can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or deer, in this case." He clears his throat, straightening up.
- You smile up at him, heavy bags under your eyes from where you've barely slept for the past week pouring over this.
- "If it makes you feel any better, it makes sense why you couldn't solve this thing. It's utter bullshit nonsense." You shake your head at the contract.
- The deal was undone embarrassingly quickly after that using the draft you had written. No pushback at all on it.
- Alastor feels his collar slacken and break to bits as you write the counter-contract and sighs with extreme relief as he watches the other contract disintegrate, feeling the power which had been stolen coming back as it turns to dust. It doesn't cure the utter humiliation that still sits heavy upon his shoulders however.
- After everything, he would threaten to kill you if you tell anyone about what went on or how he had fallen apart. Though, it would be a lie to say you two don't grow significantly closer.
- Alastor is still hesitant to fully let his guard down around you, however the massive wake that existed between you two even as fairly good friends has now significantly closed.
- He's still a lying, scheming asshole, but he'll be much more inclined to not be so much with you considering you've kept multiple giant blows to his ego fully secret.
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This was a lot longer than what I usually write for requests holy moly, but I absolutely loved writing these. I hope I fulfilled your vision anon 🙏
You get through Angel's and Husk's, which are really emotional and sweet, then you get to Alastor's 💀
Masterlist
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withleeknow · 4 months ago
Text
wishful thinking. (7.5)
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chapter 7.5: limbo
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summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; minho's pov; non-explicit smut, kissing, grinding, implied unprotected sex; alcohol consumption, non-linear storytelling (jumps around a few random scenes before we get back to the present that picks up from the end of chapter 7), cursing, the final line :-?; not that unedited i am so so sorry lol word count: 5.6k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / series masterpost / taglist
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Wishing fountains, we pray for change in the dark Moving mountains, we end up right where we start The world’s not falling apart But you and I, baby we are
Wishing Fountains - Bad Suns
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“What does it say?” Minho asks.
You sigh, your eyes trailing the words on the small piece of paper in your hands before you shove one half of the fortune cookie in your mouth. It seems dry; you look like you can barely swallow it.
“Bullshit,” you say simply, a little bitter before you hide behind a mask of indifference, turning to him as you ask, “Yours?” 
He breaks his own fortune cookie in half, pulling out a similar piece of paper that reads, “‘Jeg elsker deg’ means ‘I love you’ in Norwegian.”
You're both lying on a fluffy rug on the floor of your bedroom, with an empty bottle of rosé sitting somewhere near your head. “That’s... random,” you say, casting your eyes to the ceiling. “But I mean, at least it’s kind of educational. Now you know a phrase in Norwegian.”
“Sure,” Minho laughs, testing out the syllables in his mouth and butchering them in the process. “Who would I even say it to?”
“Impress your future girlfriend with your worldly knowledge. Or say it to Hyunjin, I’m sure he’ll swoon and blush like a schoolgirl.”
“That’s the last thing I want. He’s already clingy enough as it is.”
“Alright. Well, your loss then.”
He only hums in response. “You’re really not gonna tell me what yours is?”
“I told you. It’s bullshit.”
“Wanna tell me why the fortune cookie is evil at least? I’ll fight it for you.”
You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder with a playful scoff. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”
“About what?”
It takes a minute for you to gather your thoughts into one semi-cohesive pile. 
“Just… reminds me how I don’t really fit into anyone’s life,” you start, your voice coming out a little small and timid before you seem to let the alcohol give you enough confidence to say what you want. “I don’t feel like I’m worth anyone’s time. Everyone’s going to outgrow me eventually, if they haven’t already. Their lives will only get bigger and bigger, and they’ll have to leave me behind at some point. All that space but none for me.
“I think I’ll be stuck like this forever, in this fucking… limbo. And I know it’s dramatic because we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us and whatever else that people say. But it feels like wherever I go and whatever I do, my life will always be this small while you all move on. Chan and Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, even Hyunjin and Jisung when they’re not too busy being idiots. Everyone’s got everything all planned out, and they have other things to fall back on if those plans don’t work out. If I fall, I think I’ll just keep falling until I hit rock bottom.
“And you… you’re gonna do great things too. You’re gonna live your life and it’s going to be a good one, and you’ll forget about me too. A few years from now, when everyone’s already moved on, I’ll just be a girl that you used to know. I’m just a stop along the way.”
Then you pause, and the laugh you let out afterward is choked up and not at all sincere. You rub your hands down your face, groaning a little when you say, “Ugh, that was depressing. Sorry, it’s the wine. Forget I said anything.”
You have beautiful eyes, that’s what Minho has always thought, the kind that holds all the universe’s sparkles and all its sadness too, a bittersweet balance. The kind that makes one want to stop and admire for a while. He loves when they light up before the joy gradually spreads across your face, like watching the sun peak over the horizon before it colors the sky with ethereal pinks and purples and blues. You’re a wonderful sunrise, his favorite part of every day.
He even loves your faraway gaze when you’re here but you’re elsewhere simultaneously, hiding in your eyes musings that are privy to nobody else. You’d stare into the distance and he’d watch you the whole time, wondering if any of the thoughts that occupy your mind are about him.
Minho has an urge to take you into his arms and hold you tight and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That no one’s going to forget about you because you’re not someone who can be forgotten so easily, let alone be forgotten by him. That he isn’t going anywhere if it’s not by your side, that he wants to be in your life until you decide you’re sick of him, not the other way around.
He wants to tell you he loves you because that’s the truth. He was gone the minute he saw you at that stupid party years ago when you had walked in shyly with Chan and Jess. You had tried to make yourself smaller in a roomful of strangers, but you’ve always been the only one Minho could find in a crowd.
Years and years from now, when he thinks back to his youth, the highlight reel that will pop up in his mind will be of his idiot friends and the good memories they’ve shared with one another. How they laughed and cried, how they fell and got back up together time and time again.
And at the center of it all will be you. Green grass, blue skies, his golden days and you, the focal point of his youth.
He loves you. Would it help, or would it scare you?
He doesn’t let himself debate that question for long. Regardless of what the answer is, now isn’t the right time. So instead, he says, “For what it’s worth, everyone’s just taking it one day at a time, even if they seem like they have it all planned out. You’re not falling behind. You’re going at your own pace, who cares about other people?”
You turn your head to stare at him, your cheeks flushed with a rosy tint from the wine you had shared and a pensive look on your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but he holds your gaze anyway.
“And I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ll always have me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
A quiet moment passes. If Minho focuses hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the faint beats of your heart.
His gaze flickers to your lips for barely a second before it returns to your eyes, quick enough for it to escape your notice.
Then, you’re holding yourself up on one elbow and shuffling into his orbit until you’re right by his side. He doesn’t move a single inch; he only watches as you get closer, and closer, and closer until there’s no more space between the two of you. He blinks, and in that split second he misses the way you let your eyes shut as you lean down to press your lips to his.
He’s surprised, but pleasantly so.
You taste like rosé, like something he’s always known that he wants to chase.
It stuns him enough that he forgets to respond, his mind focused solely on the feeling of your soft lips on him, the scent of your jasmine perfume and how you’re so warm pressed against him like this.
Maybe it’s the stillness of his body that shocks you out of it, because you pull away after a few seconds with an instant look of mortification in your eyes, trying to scramble back to your original spot on the rug like you’ve just committed an unspeakable sin. Running away, he thinks, is your first instinct.
But Minho is just a tad quicker than you are. He doesn’t let you stray very far when he props himself up to cup your face with one hand and bring you back to him.
He’s kissing you again and for a brief moment, he feels like he could die.
You don’t break from him this time. Instead, you’re kissing him back just as deeply. You let him lower you back to the floor as he holds himself up above you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips while his thumb strokes your cheek softly, keeping you there in his loose hold so you could still run if that’s what you want to do.
But you stay with him, your hands trailing up the expanse of his chest to find purchase on his shoulders, your legs parting so he could perfectly slot himself into the space that you’ve allowed him.
When he rocks his hips into you experimentally, you bite on his bottom lip, a whining sound from your throat comes out muffled against his mouth.
He strays just long enough and far enough so he could look into your eyes, with your pupils blown much darker than they had been at the start of the evening.
He says your name, the gentlest sound in the world, then a question. “What do you want?”
Minho half expects you to overthink your answer and come back to your senses, to choose flight because it would be the easier option.
But you don’t. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you lock onto him, and there’s something underneath the pool of lust in your gaze that leaves him breathless and wondering.
“You,” you say quietly, “I want you.”
And it’s with this simple answer that you pull him back to you again, not the other way around. You kiss him more fervently than before if that’s even possible. When he slides his arm around your waist, you let him pick you up to cross the few steps it takes to get to your bed, his lips never leaving you even after he has laid you onto the mattress. They follow the path where your jawline leads down to your neck, then where your neck meets your collarbone, and he savors every little whimper that you make for him even though he’s barely touched you yet. There’s hardly any patch of skin that he leaves unkissed, and when he reaches where your shirt begins to hide the rest of you from him, he only looks up at you, quietly asking for more permission.
You don’t give him a verbal answer. You take matters into your own hands, lifting your top over your head and flinging it somewhere on the floor.
Then your bra follows to join your shirt, wherever it may be. Minho assumes they’ve landed on the bottle of rosé, only guessing by the sound of the glass being knocked over and rolling around. He’s not sure but he doesn’t care about it enough to look, not when he’s got you right here under him, so beautiful and so willing that it makes his head spin.
He’s imagined this before, just a few times whenever he's drunk enough to let his mind wander without the guilt that comes with it when he’s sober. He has wondered before what it would feel like to kiss you breathless and have you kiss him back, to touch you in ways that no one else ever has, to taste how sweet you are and feel your warmth. None of it is appropriate, not at all platonic. He’s well aware of it.
It's been years, ever since Minho met you at that party when he was 19 and you had been too awkward to start a conversation. Years of walking with you in the rain after class, sharing umbrellas that are too small to shield the both of you but it’s okay, because he doesn’t mind leaving half of his body exposed to the harsh weather as long as the rain doesn’t get on you. Years of making sure you get home safely after nights out with your friends, years of insisting that he sees you walk inside your building and up to your floor whether it's 11PM or 4:30AM. Years of lingering glances, of pretending he isn’t bothered whenever Felix offers to introduce you to someone, of smiles sent your way that are far too endeared to mean nothing at all.
Years of loving you in silence because he’s your friend first and foremost, and his friendship with you means more to him than the feelings he has for you.
And yet...
He’s here in your bed, watching you with mesmerized eyes as you take off the rest of your clothes before helping him discard his, as you kiss him just as deeply as he’s wanted to kiss you for the longest time, as you keep pulling him into you even when he’s already as close to you as humanly possible. His lips on yours, his heart pressed against the other side of yours. His fingers intertwined with yours when he slips inside of you, and how your hands stay interlocked the entire time you’re wrapped together. You cling to him so tightly, as though it would hurt you if he were to ever let go.
It’s the way you look at him, like he’s the only person that exists in your universe. It’s the broken moans that you give him, the nonsense babbles that make his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that he’s making you feel so good that the only thing you know how to say coherently is his name. It’s the heaven between your thighs, absolutely divine and infinitely better than any fantasy that he could ever let himself indulge in.
Just for tonight, Minho can pretend that you're his, even though he knows that he’s already been yours since the first time you met. He’s been yours for as long as he can remember, even if you don’t know it yet.
Later on, when he’s collapsed next to you on the bed, there’s a safe distance between your tired bodies and a certain tension in the air that’s heavy with the consequences of your actions. When he takes your hand, the one that’s shaking as you grip the sheets between your fingers, it alleviates some of that anxiety.
“The fortune cookie, what did it say?” he asks, like you’re simply continuing the conversation from before.
You let out a nervous chuckle. “Seriously?”
He gives you a lopsided smile, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Seriously.”
You purse your lips as you look at him for another second before you cast your eyes to the ceiling again, like you’d done just an hour ago. “It said ‘You’ll be loved.’”
You are, he thinks to himself. You’re loved.
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“Open wide.”
You give him a look, to which he only responds with a shrug and a sly grin. 
“You’re enjoying this too much,” you say, but you take the spoonful of chicken soup that he offers you anyway. You can’t focus on the taste but it’s warm and the relief you feel is instant when it soothes your throat.
You’ve practically been on bedrest for the past three days, slowly rotting away in your apartment with a bad strain of the seasonal flu until Minho came over and unleashed his inner mama bear on you. Now here you are, wrapped up like a burrito on the couch (Minho insisted; he wouldn’t have it any other way) while he spoon feeds you homemade chicken soup.
You were stubborn about it at first, as one could probably imagine. When you told the group chat that you wouldn’t make it to movie night at Chan’s place last weekend, you were adamant that you would be able to sleep it off and bounce back in no time, despite Minho offering to make you some food and bring over some meds and cough drops.
The symptoms worsened overnight though, and you developed a fever along with a cough that’s worse than any you’ve ever experienced. When Minho called you to make sure you were still alive, you could barely even speak.
He hates your cavalier attitude when it comes to taking care of yourself. He hates himself even more for believing in your nonchalance and not bulldozing his way over sooner.
“I’m enjoying this because I was right,” he says, feeding you more of the soup. “I told you instant ramyeon wouldn’t cure you.”
He lets his I told you so triumph go easily, even though he suspects that you have much more to bite back at him if you could get through half a sentence without wanting to hack your lungs out. You make a noise, and he isn’t really sure if it’s one of agreement or protest but it’s most likely the latter. He thinks it’s cute that you close your eyes after every spoonful, lazily eating like one of his cats back home whenever they’ve run out of energy. You’re probably tired and can’t wait to get into bed.
When the soup is finished, Minho fetches you your meds and a glass of warm water. He doesn’t know if the scrunched up face you make after every pill is because you hate the bitter taste or if the tablets keep dragging against your already sensitive throat on their way down, but he strokes your hair all the while you wash it down with water, a gentle hand on your head as if to say You’re doing well.
He tucks you in bed not long after, despite your weak protests as he carries you to your bedroom.
“Oh my god,” you had managed to croak out. “I’m not that helpless.”
“I know,” came his response and a teasing smile. “Just let me take care of you for once.”
You’re pliant once you’re laid gently on the mattress though, idly watching Minho as he wraps the duvet around your shoulders and fluffs your pillows just the way you like. This is awfully domestic, he notes, and he can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, not when he’s absolutely endeared by the way your tired eyes try to keep themselves open just so you could look at him.
When his lips leave your warm skin, he thinks he might’ve imagined the blush that colors your cheeks.
But he blinks, and you’re still flushed, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him, mild surprise evident in your drowsy gaze.
Something passes over the two of you, a kind of silence that he isn’t accustomed to when he’s with you. It isn’t bad, it’s just… strange.
One beat, then another. “Want me to stay with you?” he asks.
He knows you’d say no, and yet he can’t help the disappointment when you tell him, “You don’t have to. Go home, Min. Thanks for taking care of me today.”
“You sure? I can take the couch. It’s fine.”
“I’m sure. Chan and Jess said they’re coming to check on me in the morning.”
Minho lets out a hum, and purses his lips.
“What?” you ask.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you look like you want to.”
“Just… y’know,” he starts, gauging your reaction all the while, for any signs of physical discomfort or otherwise, “I like you like this. You’re not hiding when you’re like this.”
“You like me frail and on the verge of death?”
He rolls his eyes, pretends to flick at your forehead. “You know what I mean.”
When you giggle, it’s immediately followed by a wince, like the movement is hurting your sensitive throat. “Do I hide when I’m with you?”
“Sometimes.” He moves his hand to caress your face, gentle fingertips tracing the apple of your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him, if only for a little while. “It feels like you’re always ready to leave.”
“Are you worried I’m gonna run away?” you ask, covering your hand over his to move it away, but you still let his touch linger when you only lower his hand to your neck, where he starts twiddling your hair between his fingers. It feels like you want him close, close enough that it matters, close in a way that still lets you have control over how it matters. “I physically can’t. I’m sick.”
“Does that mean you’ll run away when you get better?”
You seem to ponder the question for a moment. You’re holding onto his wrist and Minho is almost certain that you can feel his pulse. He would do so many things for you if only you’d let him.
When you answer him, you keep things light but your tone is soft, gentle in a way that tells him your sentiment means more than the words you cherry pick on the surface.
 “No, I have finals in two weeks.”
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The first time that Minho gets to wake up next to you, nothing feels real. Not the pleasant scent of your shampoo greeting him the minute he opens his eyes, not your soft breath fanning his bare collarbone where you lay with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, not even the feeling of you in his arms, safe and warm, as though this is where you’re meant to be. None of it seems like anything other than a dream.
When memories of the previous night come rushing to the surface, it also brings back the annoyance he felt watching Yeonjun openly flirt with you at the party, and the bitter feeling that accompanied the reminder that Minho couldn’t even really do anything about it but stand idly by. 
But you stir in his arms, and all of the annoyance and bitterness goes away. Because you’re here with him and not anybody else. There’s a certain ego boost knowing that he’s the one you kiss, the only one you allow in your most personal space. To know you is a privilege, and it’s one that you grant no one else but him.
Last night, something happened. Something changed, he felt it when you were the one who asked him to stay. You let him put his shirt on you, let him hold you as you slept, even welcomed his embrace and snuggled further into his body in a way that you’ve never done before.
How you kissed him just hours prior, how you looked at him… God, he thinks he could just spill all of his secrets if you did it again.
But when you open your eyes, Minho is already pretending to be asleep again. How would you react? He’s curious to know. Would you scramble away the second the realization kicks in that you let him break your rule? Would you leave his side and act all nonchalant about it when you inevitably have to face each other later? He’s willing to bet that you would.
But you surprise him again. He feels you watching him for a moment, then your touch ghosts upon his features. It almost makes him falter in his act, your gentle fingers tracing his temple, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose down to his lips. There’s a sigh that you exhale, and he misses your touch the very second it leaves his skin. He itches to bring you closer to him again.
So that’s what he does. Minho keeps the facade going, pretending like he’s now just waking up with his limbs stretching out. You stiffen when he hugs you tighter, but you soon relax after he starts stroking your hair. 
Nothing has changed for him, but can you say the same?
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“Dude!”
Minho flinches into action when a voice calls his name right by the car window, loud enough to startle him even through the thick layer of glass. When he turns his head, he finds Changbin’s face all pressed up against the window, struggling to hold three bags full of supplies that are threatening to spill out. “Help me with these!” his friend says.
It’s the week of Jisung, Felix and Seungmin’s birthdays; you lot tends to go all out for the quadruple birthday bash every year (Chan’s birthday is only 11 days later after all). Seungmin’s family has a lakeside cabin a couple hours from the city, that’s where everyone goes to unwind for a long weekend with plenty of food and even more drinks. This year, it’s no different.
Minho and Changbin are on drinks duty, tasked with picking up all of the alcohol and refreshments for the weekend ahead. He doesn’t really know what the rest are doing, just that you and Jeongin are babysitting Hyunjin to make sure the latter doesn’t deviate from the proposed budget and go way overboard when getting snacks and decorations. You sent Minho a text a while ago, a video of you facepalming and rolling your eyes before you flip the camera over to show Hyunjin and Jeongin bickering like children over a mega pack of chips.
Once everything is in the car – cases of beer safely loaded into the trunk, bottles of water and soft drinks set in their designated plastic bags in the backseat, Changbin comments from the driver’s seat, “You looked weird. You were smiling.”
Minho only stares at him for a moment, a neutral expression on his face as he blinks those typical Minho blinks, before he turns his head to the other side to lean against the window.
He was thinking about the first time your tradition started, the first year Jess had to drag you on the trip. She used to do it often; you were shy in the beginning.
He’s got a favorite memory of you, and it wasn’t you and him sitting together on the bank of the river during the sunset, while the others were in the water, splashing around and having the time of your lives (you two were the only ones who couldn’t swim, but it was okay, you didn’t feel like you missed out on anything because at least you had each other).
His favorite memory of you wasn’t running into you in the middle of the night when he went into the kitchen for some water and you were out by yourself on the adjacent balcony, sitting with your chin resting on your folded knees and the crescent moon for company. He stayed there for a moment, dazed, wondering if he was still dreaming or if it was just you. When Minho finally made his presence known, you told him you couldn’t sleep and he suggested that you break into Hyunjin’s secret ramyeon stash, because going to bed with a full stomach always made him feel better whenever he was restless. 1:58AM, you ended up almost burning your hand on the stove, too busy trying to keep your giggles down when he made a stupid joke.
Minho’s favorite memory wasn’t of you falling asleep on his shoulder on the drive back either, with you squished in the backseat between him and Felix, and your light snores reminded him of Soonie whenever the cat would doze off on his chest. It wasn’t any of these moments, even though he thinks he might’ve loved you in every instance.
His favorite memory of you was the evening before that trip had to come to an end, the last night you all spent together before you had to leave your safe little bubble. It was after dinner and some drinks, everyone was buzzed and the air was crisp, chilly every now and then. When you were gathered on the dock overlooking the lake, each holding a sparkler that Jisung had prepared, you were laughing. Everyone else was laughing too, but yours was the only sound Minho could focus on.
“Be quiet. I’m gonna take a nap,” he tells Changbin, ignoring the comment entirely as he closes his eyes. “Wake me when we get to Chan’s.”
The lights, and your friends, and the moon hanging high up in the sky like a guardian angel back then.
You were watching how it all reflected so beautifully in the rippling waters below. He was watching you.
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“You really don’t see it, do you?”
His question hangs in the awful silence as you stare at him. Minho can see your nails digging into your palms where your fists are clenched, your glassy eyes and the frown between your brows, like you’re trying your hardest to hold back tears. Why else would you be so upset?
He’s known about it for a while, or at the very least, he’s had an inkling of how you feel about him. He knows he isn’t in over his head when he says there’s a certain glow that radiates from within you when you’re together, a side of you that’s tender and at peace, one that he’s never seen you show anyone else. The way you look at him, it’s the same way that he looks at you even if you don’t realize it yet, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it out loud.
It hasn’t been one sided for at least some time now, he knows it.
But it’s frustrating to watch you try so hard to fight it. He’s the only one holding on, and you’ve been willing to let go at every turn.
“See what?” you challenge.
This isn’t how he planned to ever say these words, but the moment is here whether he likes it or not. It’s staring at you both in the face even if you are doing your best to hide from it.
Minho holds your gaze for a few seconds before he steps toward you again. This time, you stand your ground.
“You asked me if things changed for me and I said no. That was the truth, I never lied to you. We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you as something more from the beginning.”
He pauses there, watches your eyes and how you take it in. They soften a little, filling up some more as you process his words. There’s surprise in the look that you wear, sure. A little confusion, yes. But most of all, you just look sad. When you call out his name, he can tell by your tone that it’s a warning, that you’re about to run away for real this time if he presses on, and yet he can’t stop until he says his piece.
“If you want me to spell it out for you, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you, and it drives me crazy that you don’t see any of it. The thing that makes me even crazier, do you know what it is? I think you feel something for me too, but you won’t admit it to yourself and you always resort to shutting down instead of facing your feelings. How much longer are you going to run away from me?”
When the first tear unintentionally spills over from the corner of your eye, Minho knows he’s struck a nerve. He wants to reach out and wipe away the tiny stream that rolls down your face but you beat him to it, wiping at your cheek in angry motions.
“You’re wrong.” Your voice is tight when you tell him, “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s the only thing that you address.
Sometimes, he searches for your answer at the bottom of a glass, or on the other end of looks that seem to linger just a beat too long. But as he’s standing here, right now, he finds it in your hesitation to speak, in the lie you give him when you finally do.
It’s the answer he’s always wanted and yet, the knowledge brings him no satisfaction at all. It only lodges a lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of dejection when he sees how hard you’re trying to fight this.
“I know you,” he sighs after a moment, a little defeated. “I know when you’re lying.”
“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all.”
You’re stubborn. You’ve always been stubborn.
Minho takes another step forward. It feels like it’s a step closer to the end as you both know it, because how else is your relationship going to come back from this? He sees the slight shake in your shoulders that you try to suppress, but he’ll always be the one to notice. 
“Tell me you don’t love me,” he says quietly, his final resort. A challenge but it sounds an awful lot like a plea. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that things can take a turn for the worse in just two weeks’ time. The last time you both were here, you’d kissed his endeared smile and held him so impossibly close to you. Now, everything is falling apart, the seams coming undone one by one. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”
Minho meant what he said, about how loving you drives him crazy sometimes. Even when you’re breaking his heart, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. A noticeable sting settles in between the cracks of his ribcage at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, your balled up fists and his own reflection in your glassy eyes.
“Do you want me to say it so badly?” you ask, and he can only stare at you when your voice comes out harsher than it was before, though it cracks toward the end as you try to keep up with the facade. “Fine, I’ll say it.”
It’s not what he asked, but it’s confirmation nonetheless. It’s acceptance but not how he wants it to be. Acceptance that you do love him, and yet, you say it in a way that he’s never expected to hear from you.
“I don’t want to love you.”
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 28.08.2024]
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queenie-the-court-jester · 10 months ago
Text
It's raining cats and dogs
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My cat and dog hybrids, and random things about them! [Not proofread]
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★ Brutus the german shepherd
He's a big boy alright. A startling 6'6 frame, but that doesn't stop him from acting like a little bastard. He's playful and cocky, a little protective but that's just in his instincts to protect his little herd! In his physical appearance, He's starting to grow out his buzz cut, a pair of German shepherd ears ontop. he's hoping to maybe dye a couple strands of hair blond once they're long enough. green eyes that stare into your soul, absolutely no thought process behind them
★ dolly the doberman
Everyone loves dolly. There used to be another doberman named Danny but they sent him to the pound when he bit both the farmer and his granddaughter. She used to have puppies with Danny but they didn't survive the winter, they got sick and passed the coming spring. She's a little rough around the edges but you'll love her too right? Don't let Brutus hog all the love! In her physical appearance, she has very short brown hair and a pair or doberman ears, with one of them being a little bit, ontop of her head. 5'7 with a deadly brown eyed stare.
★ bladviba the black Russian terrier
A messy mop of brown curls he calls hair sits atop his head. He's usually out in the fields observing the cattle, black eyes staring out Into the distance. The others say he used to be a fisherman's dog but then he had to find a new home since he passed away one night. Stoic and serious, he's secretly a 5'8 softie who wants to hide and cuddle you somewhere. But that bastard Brutus would probably find you in less than an hour.
★ molly the chow chow
molly may be the smallest out of all them, but that doesn't mean she won't let them do all the work. Usually she's trailing behind dolly, claiming that since their names are similar they have to stick close together. She has a short temper and a little brutish, but you'll get used to her. Spiky short brown hair, with dark black eyes that sparkle when she sees you. A 5'2 sweetheart- wait who gave molly a knife-
★ sweet pea the Samoyed
Sweet pea loves many things! You, bones, their house, sleep. Okay maybe not many things but atleast some things! Usually quiet and following you from behind, they quietly take up the role of your 6'1 guard dog. Helping you around the barn, and in exchange all you have to do is let them scent you for another 2 hours every 4 hours! Dirty white hair, with black eyes as dark as charcoal.
★ bubba the borzoi
Bubba is so fucking done with both you and the others. Can you stop fucking singing 'let me do it for you' like shut up he's trying to do his job here. He refuses to let you see the slightest smile but just know he is smiling. He's just stubborn. Like VERY stubborn. Sarcastic and empathetic, a deadly combo. He could be comforting you and then calling you a blubbering fool the next. 6/10, would bite my ass. He's a startling 6'11, with blue eyes and light blonde hair
★ princess the ragdoll
Name the most spoiled housecat who ever lived. She lives up to her name, she's been in many beauty pageants and won a many prizes. Ribbons, trophies, photographs all align the walls of her room. She'll give you a side eyed look before making you go through a 600 step beauty routine, before ever allowing you to touch her. Atleast she'll cuddle you for hours on end, so the torture was worth it all. King is the only person she respects, aside from her owners. White long curly hair, blue eyes and 5'5
★ prince the Norwegian forest cat
He's the most humble cat ever known, all he really wants is to settle down, have a couple litters, and be a good dad. But princess hated his guts and quite frankly, he hated her. He much preferred you, he wondered how you'd look with a belly full of his kits.. he'll respect your wishes, but don't mind him breaking into your room every now and then. (He leaves hair everywhere, don't let him.) Ginger fluffy hair, green eyes and 5'7
★ king the Khao manee
King could either be planning your downfall or planning the entire family you'll have together. The greatest manipulator ever known to cat kind. He could convince you orange is red and red is blue if you let him (don't let him), he manipulates princess to do things for him but now that you're here, you won't mind taking over now will you? Sandy blonde hair with heterochromiac eyes. 5'6
Bonus: the forest pack ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧
★ Roxy the wolf
butch werewolf? Butch werewolf. She's stoic and quiet, but she's just a gentle giant. Following her brothers around, she's very obedient and surprisingly, loves gardening! Long Spiky black hair, red eyes and 6'7
★ Silas the wolf
Silas is the leader, commanding his siblings when to act and when to fall behind. But he just wants a break and to lay down, take a nice long nap. Until one of his siblings comes running to him for help. Oh well, he had a nice sleep. He loves them, he truly does, but he wants a nap in peace. Very short spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'9
★ Milo the wolf
Milo is selectively mute. With a deadpan look always on their face and they seem emotionless, but that's not the case. They're just always distracted and can't really focus on many things. Be a little patient will you? Medium long spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'6
★ Kiki the Pomeranian
Kiki is some dog hybrid they found off the road and decided they're one of them. Feral and has a big dog complex. Tries to be intimidating but they just aren't. Sometimes they watch you work on the farm from the edge of the forest, a little jealous of the animals that get to watch you everyday. Messy blonde hair, black eyes that hold the anger of a toddler being forced into A school play, and very short. 4'9
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