#anyway hey guys . its me again . whats up danger
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m1d-45 · 2 days ago
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wandering eyes
summary: wherein he's not sure what's going on between him and you, but he knows that he definitely shouldn't be thinking like this...
word count: ~2.5k
-> warnings: minor sumeru AQ spoilers ?? author very clumsily uses no name for wanderer . reader is a scholar of unnamed darshan and author handles that clumsily too .
-> gn reader (you/yours) ++ unspecified traveller (they/them)
taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk
< masterlist >
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there are many scholars in the akedemiya. thousands of scholars across six darshans, collected under the akedemiya’s flag, differentiated only by the emblems on their uniforms. tens of thousands of people walked through the front doors, searched the house of daena, roamed the halls and chatted and laughed with their peers.
you were not one of them. you rarely were. it seemed, as time went by, you were more fond of lingering in his office rather than the established gathering places for students and staff alike.
how you found it, he didn’t know. it wasn’t marked with his name, nor that stupid nickname given to him by the rest of the scholars, nor any name at all. it wasn’t even a proper office, more so an abandoned classroom that he’d claimed as his own. and yet, one day you’d opened the door and sat in the chair across from his makeshift desk, and he’d never really had the mind to lock it after you left.
the wanderer did not often say what he was thinking. it was far easier to allow others to run their mouths in attempt to fill the silence, usually giving over more information than they meant to. buer used to chide him for it, but he thinks she’s gotten the message by now; casual conversations were reserved for a very narrow selection of people. her, of course, when he sat in the sanctuary and rattled off the list of tasks that comprised his day. he didn’t think there was much important about his day to her, but that had of course changed. she told him about his, and maybe he found something from a tavern to bring up to her, letting her try the fruits of her labor. he never ate much. he didn’t need it, and sumeru food was far more
 complex than inazuman cuisine. he’s never been able to move past that simplicity—at nobody’s fault but his own, of course.
the second spot on his inch-long list was reserved for the traveller and, somewhat irritatingly, their companion. they made good company, though he hadn’t seen them in a while now
 and as such, his list had effectively shortened to two.
if asked, he would not give a name to the tentative bond between you two. both because anyone that didn’t already know certainly deserved no stake in it, but also because it felt wrong to do that without knowing what you thought, and he’d not be asking that question any time soon. you were first a colleague, approaching him despite the gap in your darshans, and then
 he didn’t know. he wasn’t familiar enough with the intricacies of human relationships to name it.
you weren’t an acquaintance. he knew more about you than he cared to admit, which his mind already reminded him of often enough. you were not a friend, nor anything else close to it. you were not a companion, that was too close a word for his liking. you were not a confidante, as you surely were not privy to the dim paths his thoughts often wound. more than an associate, less than a comrade. even if, say, the walls of the akedemiya had turned into the plains of battle, he could not call you a warrior in arms, for not only would he be far from the bloodshed, but you would surely be just as distant.
you were a strange character. maybe that was why he had allowed you so close—and it was only on his terms that this had happened, he told himself, because he would not be so foolish as to allow you near him of your own volition. when you spoke, he could almost hear your will threaded into your words, a silent determination to do
 something. he hadn’t figured out what yet. you had no research projects you were uncertain on, no assignments or tasks you did not know how to complete, and yet you spoke with all the tenacity of a detective on a cold case.
you had walked into his life and he was too curious to let you leave. just curiosity, that’s all. there was no other reason to entertain someone so
 intruiging.
that wasn’t the right adjective. he could spin a few hundred, if he wanted, but he had a feeling that even if he had recited them all, it would still fall flat. why was it that he had no problem summarizing others with the snap of his fingers, but his tongue always lingered over your name?
you didn’t seem to care that he didn’t talk. you spoke more than enough to make up for him, going into gratingly deep detail about how your day had gone and what research you were struggling with connecting, to the point that he’d began to keep books on your subject permanently in his “office” just to push them over to you whenever you started complaining. it didn’t matter that the time before he did so began to stretch longer and longer. he just knew you better, and as such needed to decide which text would be better. nevermind that he could give you both. why did he both welcome and shrink from the sound of his door clicking closed?
this problem, among others, drifted lazily through his mind as he skimmed the various proposals on his desk. for being gifted a name such as “hat guy” by the people of sumeru, a shockingly large amount of them wanted his time or approval on some project or another. he always denied them, and usually wouldn’t give them any mind
 but he needed something to keep his eyes busy.
today was a day like any other. he had retired from his lectures with a weight on his shoulders like he was the one forced to memorize half a century in an hour, hanging his hat and sighing in his chair. he had sorted the mail that made it onto his desk—despite being across campus from the other staff offices, he still managed to receive letters—into a neat bucket called his trash can and had set about grading papers, which never took very long. when he was done, he began flipping through the textbooks stacked on his desk, waiting for the tell-tale click that would herald your arrival.
he used to go for walks during this time. he wouldn’t even bother with his hat, quickly scrawling over mistakes in thick red ink before leaving just as fast. he usually went for a walk outside the city to clear his head and get away from the noise, and maybe stop to buy some trinket for buer while he was out to make up for the fact that he “didn’t socialize enough” for her liking.
he doesn’t do that anymore. his routine had shifted, and the idea of you coming back to an empty office
 well, he didn’t want you bothering anyone else with your inane inquiries anyway. he’s not sure anyone was as familiar with your research as him, and he’d rather not gain a reputation for annoying his coworkers by forcing them to keep up with you. no, only he was fit for that task.. and so he waited.
you had walked in with all your usual fanfare, sitting in the chair he never moved, starting to ask pleasantries that he had parried as soon as they left your mouth. his day was fine. his work was fine. his students were annoying. your day was good? good. what did you want and how could he give it to you?
from the moment you began to talk, he knew what your problem was. he was reading about it as you spoke, actually, tracing the arguments on the page as your words filtered through his mind like coffee through paper. perhaps if he was the divining sort, he’d sift the grounds and read your fortune.
he wasn’t. he read, occasionally looking up so you knew he was listening and continued, eyes flicking over your expression. you seemed more irritated than usual, the softness wrapped around the steel cord of your demeanor shedding away. it, like you, was interesting. that was the only reason why he was staring.
your hair was out of order, like you’d been fussing with it on the walk here. your uniform was out of place, as if thrown on without your usual care. your brow was set tight, though it softened when he’d snapped the book in his hands shut without a word, waiting for the truth you knew he held.
why was it, he wondered, that you bothered with small talk? why was it, as he pushed the book across to you, did he put up with it? why had he wanted to hold onto it longer, and why was it your exasperation that had made him cave?
curiosity. that was all. for when you took it into your lap with a smile he ignored, you did not leave. you stayed, launching into a spiel about the house of daena’s lending practices. did you know he was the one with all the books you needed? the house was short on such a niche subject as yours, and he didn’t like the idea of you going without the materials you needed—it would only cause more headaches, after all.
even if you did know, why tell him? this was not a problem he could fix. he looked to the remaining books on his desk, but found no answer. you had pulled the topic away from research, and he was at a loss for what you wanted. back to you, his eyes wandered, searching for some other indication. he would not say he was the smartest when it came to human emotion, but he still knew how to read one’s intentions; spending decades stuck in a palace of ice would teach anyone how. yet, despite all of this experience, he kept getting caught on one detail.
curiosity. that was all. your lips were dry, just so, and he was wondering why. had your stress caused you to neglect yourself? that happened often among scholars, to his understanding. were you without water? or had the heat gotten to you? if you were flushed, he couldn’t tell. you spoke without a rasp, the same voice that had haunted him since you had first called his “name” from up the hall, lips the same shade of pink he always knew.
curiosity. intrigue. novelty. he pulled his eyes away with an odd feeling pooling in his fingertips, willing himself back in line. and yet, the moment he looked back at you, his gaze was weighed down. dry, yes, but seeming so soft between the cracks. or was he just seeing things?
with a groan and a harsh shake of his head, he reached down, pulling the old proposals out of the trash. you had stopped talking, so he waved his hand to lead you to continue, pushing his eyes across the lines of text instead.
a lecture he was bored by from the name alone. a subject he held no research on. a lot of those, actually, people seeking his help from across darshans either instead of or after going to their sages. in fact, he had received proposals from everywhere but vahumana, it seemed. it was ridiculous. maybe only those he dealt with knew how futile sending a letter his way would go. should he give the relevant letters to you and say he had sent you in his stead? some of the subjects looked like something you would be interested in
 it would never work, but he took the excuse to look back at you anyway, currently elbow-deep in a story about the last time you went to puspa café.
what did you drink, he wondered? was it why your skin looked so rough? perhaps the next time he went by the shops, he should find you some sunsettia juice.
it was that thought—and assuredly not that you had caught his eye with confusion—that had snapped him out of his thoughts. he dropped the stack in his hands on the desk and again pulled his synthetic eyes from where they should never have strayed, gesturing to the book in your lap with some snappy quip he didn’t think much about. there was little reason to put thought into insults he didn’t mean, and calling you poorly-read would only reflect back on him and his help.
which was fine. because he wasn’t helping you for his reputation. he was helping you for his own selfish

you stood, giving thanks that slipped right off his shoulders, as easy as the breeze on a hot day. you “pushed in” the chair that had nowhere to go, leaving it where it would stay until you returned, like a dog by the door.
“don’t come back,” he called, voice holding no bite as the door latched shut. it was useless putting effort into things he didn’t intend to happen anyway.
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gotham-daydreams · 2 months ago
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First Sightings
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Day 1 {Challenge Masterlist}
It's just another day in Gotham, until it isn't.
[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Suicide and brief mentions of blood.](Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)
Just some set up, enjoy!
---------------------------------------------
It was another bright day in Gotham. With traffic bustling, the streets full of all sorts of people, and everyone going about their daily lives, as if the city they lived in wasn’t so dangerous after all.
Duke was doing his usual patrols, staring bright and early as always - wanting to prove himself just as capable as his siblings as always, along with just generally trying to keep everyone safe while the rest of his family got some much needed rest. This is his city too, after all, and Duke would be damned if anything happened to it on his watch.
Though, as always, there wasn’t much to do. Even if there was the occasional petty criminal that tried to do some small crime they thought they could get away with - like now, with some shady guy running away with a
 potted plant? Geez, Duke never thought someone would steal just for some home decor, but hey, he’s seen people try to steal weirder and smaller things during his life for one reason or another.
“Hey! Heads up!” He shouts, not giving the criminal any time to react as he already deals a swift kick to their back, knocking them down to the ground. The pot in their hands goes flying in the air as they let go of it unexpectedly, but Duke is swift to catch it, and keeps his foot on the criminal’s back. “Where are you even planning to bring this? You don’t even have a car to get away in? Man, you are seriously unprepared.” Duke chuckles, raising a brow as he looks down at the criminal. Just where was this guy planning to go, anyway? Back home? To wherever his other criminal friends are? Who knows, though Duke didn’t have enough information to really guess, now that he thought about it. This guy was unprepared, more so than Duke was expecting, actually.
Nevertheless, a petty crime is still a crime, prepared or not. So, going through the usual routine of his with things like this, Duke just restrained the criminal, and notified the GCPD as always.
While Duke was doing that, the criminal seemed to shake their head, and looked around, as if snapping out of a trance. The man’s brows furrow, and he looks to the young vigilante - only to struggle when he realizes what the young hero is doing, “HEY! What’s the big idea?! Let go of me you- you yellow weirdo!” The man barks out, actions as rough as his voice.
Again, Duke chuckles, “Nothing much, just handling petty thievery. Say, what was your idea for the pot? Doing some home decoration or something?” The man looks at the vigilante, seemingly more confused than before.
“The hell are you talkin’ about? I didn’t do nothin’-!” “Right, okay. I know it’s just one pot, but it’s still something that isn’t yours. Honestly, I’m just wondering why you didn’t pay for it, and only just stole one of them-”
“I DIDN’T TAKE NOTHIN’ EITHER!” The man shouts, only to take a quick breath when he sees that all the barking isn’t doing much, “Look- I dunno what you’re on about, I was just trying to go about my day! Now, if you would just let me go, I’m sure we could clear this whole understanding-!”
Duke sighs, “Are you even from around here? Seriously, who do you think you’re trying to fool with all that bullshit?”
The man scoffs, pointedly looking away, and ignoring the stares people give as they pass. “Fine, whatever, then.” He mumbles gruffly, seemingly giving up
 that is, until, Duke is almost finished tying him up - then the man suddenly springs into actions as in one swift action he uses his leg to hook around the put, and kick it up to the vigilante, its content spilling out and causing Duke’s grip to loosen just enough for the man to stand and make a run for it.
It’s a miracle what a batton straight to the head can do, and it’s especially helpful that with enough strength it can knock someone out.
Huffing, Duke brushes the dirt off of him with one hand, seeing as he somehow caught the pot with his other. Though, it’s only now that he realizes the strange contents, making him furrow his brows.
Did dirt
 always look this red?
Not knowing what to do about that little detail, Duke ignores it for now, and just continues with his ‘routine’ as he finishes apprehending the criminal who didn’t get very far, and went to return the pot to the floral shop. However, when he got there, he noticed that some of the employees were moving pots and bags of dirt out of the shop.
“Uh, I believe someone is looking for this?” He spoke out, holding up the almost-stolen pot in his hand, with only a small amount of dirt now left inside, the plant
 missing, now that Duke was paying more attention. Was there anything in there initially? Was it just
 a pot of dirt? Did floral shops even sell things like that?
Before Duke could delve into his own questions too much, a short woman approaches him, age written on her face as it sags her skin and wrinkles it, but still, she offers a sigh, and moves to take the pot off of the young vigilante’s hands, “Yes, thank you. It all happened so fast- he just came right in and snatched one for our calla lilies! Though, for a man who looked so focused, he sure didn’t get very far
” she huffs, shaking her head. The vigilante could only nod, and offer a hum.
Just as the woman was about to turn away, likely to go back to her job, Duke spoke up, “Hey, what’s with all this, anyway?” He gestures to the three or so employees who have been moving pots of varying sizes and bags of dirt from in the store, to outside and setting them to the side, out of the way. As if going to throw them out, or something along those lines - either way, the intent was to get rid of them, that much was obvious.
The woman stops, glancing at the work being done before looking back at Duke, “Just a bit of cleanup, so to speak. Woke up this morning and found that some of the dirt was turning a deep red. Don’t know what it is, but it’s affecting the plants, since- see, look here,” she gestures for one of the employees to come over, and when they do, the woman moves some of the dirt by the flower - showing the lower stem and roots. They look an odd, almost abnormal shade of red, like a strange mix of pink the further up the stem it goes, but the deeper in the ground it grows, the darker it gets, almost turning into a sickening shade of magenta, and so on. “I’m sure you can tell, but I’ll confirm- that’s not supposed to happen. Maybe it’s a virus or something, but we don’t want it to spread to the other plants, so, we’re getting rid of it. All of it.” Handing off the pot in her hands to the employee, she waves them off, letting them get back to work.
Though, with that she just sighs and shakes her head, “Honestly, haven’t seen something like this before, but what can you do? It’s a shame since it got to a lot of the pots, but anything that looks remotely wrong, we’re trying to just toss out. God bless those folks from Star City- said they’ll get rid of it, and hey, less work on our hands. Not like anyone else is willing to help out, but then again, this is Gotham.”
Now that caught Duke’s attention.
“Star City? Ain’t that a few ways away? What the hell are they doing here?” He asks, raising a brow.
The woman shrugs, “Beats me, but that ain’t my problem. Now- if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a job to do and a shop to run, kid.” With that, the woman walks back into the store, and Duke is left on his own once again. A little confused, he lets out a small ‘huh’, but ultimately leaves it at that, but does look at the work being done one last time.
It’s only then that he notices people walking out of an alley nearby, taking some of the pots and bags of dirt the employees are putting down, and loading them into a truck that he could barely make out within the shades of darkness. Huh, weird. How
 convenient. Weird, a little suspicious, and Duke was honestly skeptical, but they weren’t breaking any laws, right? Could he just leave this be as is? Though, what would anyone need for a bunch of dirt and plants that were probably dying or something? Sure, there was a certain someone that came to mind, but did that really make sense? This didn’t feel like Ivy, but who else could it really be? Was there someone new at play? Something else going on? Or was it really just some weird plant virus, and was he just overthinking this?
Sighing, Duke just shook his head at himself. He could leave it be for now, though he couldn’t deny it - for people outside of Gotham, they sure looked shady like any other Gothamite. If the lady hadn’t mentioned they were from Star City, Duke honestly wouldn’t have known otherwise, and it was usually easy to tell when someone came from out of the city - so that was saying something.
Regardless, Duke was clearly out of his element here, so he went to just go back on patrol


 There was no harm in wasting one small tracker though, right? It was just one, after all, and besides - it couldn’t hurt to follow his gut just this once.
-----------------------
Finishing up the last criminal, and apprehending them as usual, Duke took a breath. Patrol was get about finishing up, and besides the usual hiccups and such here and there, everything went relatively smoothly - but damn, the dirt on his suit from earlier was still being stubborn, maybe he could ask Alfred to help him clean it when he got back-
“Hey! Don’t go off just yet,” a voice calls out, and Duke looks in the direction
 only to be met with another unfamiliar face. One thing was for sure, though, they definitely weren’t from Gotham. “You’re the Signal, right? Wow, it’s incredible to meet you in person, and to see you in action! Though, I guess you’re about to call it, huh?” The vigilante can’t help but blink at their words. They were from out of town, and knew him? Well
 that didn’t happen very often. Hell, some people in Gotham still don’t know who he is - not that Duke did this job for fame and recognition, but still it felt strangely
 good? Refreshing? To be noticed and even recognized by an outsider?
Still, knowing he couldn’t just stand there like an idiot despite how surprised and taken aback he is, Duke clears his throat, and manages a, “Uh, yeah. Somethin’ like that, I guess.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he takes a quick breath before adding, “Anyway, what do you want-?” “Oh! I don’t want to take up too much of your time! I just wanted to give you something- y’know, as a thanks for doing what you do, and a general token of appreciation. ‘M sure you don’t get that a lot around here, but not everyone can do what you do, y’know? So, here! It’s just a little something, and besides, you look like you could use a small pick-me-up for the road.” The person hands Duke a small bag, and a coffee cup. It was a little suspicious, maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt if he just
 takes it, right? No need to eat it, he can check it later - but he’s allowed to take it right? Not like he has to eat it. Definitely not. Nope.
Though, even as he does, Duke can’t help but be confused, “Wait, hold on- who are you? Why
 do this?”
The person seems to blink at the question, as if not expecting it for a moment before they snicker to themselves, and shake their head, amused, “Right, sorry. The name’s [Last Name], just got transferred to Gotham for a case. No need to be skeptical, I’m a cop, and here, for proof- I’ve got my badge on me,” rummaging through your pocket, well, there it is. Your badge

Huh, what’re you doing all the way from Metropolis?
Still, it does make Duke feel a bit better. Not entirely, granted, but some form of better regardless. Didn’t explain everything, and obviously he wouldn’t be any less careful, but again, he’d take it. For now.
“So
 you’re on duty now?”
That gets another snicker out of you, “Not ‘til later, but that’s not important. I won’t keep you any longer, I’m sure you're as busy as a bird, yeah? Well, then we best be going our separate ways.” Before Duke even gets a chance to respond, you already turn on your heel, and begin to walk off. Waving behind you, a last, “See you soon,” is said and again, Duke is left by himself, and to think about that odd little encounter.
Were people from Metropolis this friendly? Bubbly? Personable? Weird? Well, anyway, Duke just looks down at the brown bag and coffee cup in his hands. The gesture was nice, if there wasn’t anything weird about what you gave him - even if the gesture itself was strange, and Duke definitely wasn’t used to it. How could he be? Forget about Gotham being Gotham for a second, how was he, as a vigilante, as a hero supposed to handle this? Was just, taking it and accepting the gesture, really the best move? Sure, you caught him a little off guard, but what did that say about him? Especially if a civilian can just sneak up on him like that.
The only thing Duke can figure to do now is just leave it be. It would be weird to give it back, and push comes to shove he can just throw it away. Nothing wrong with that, and it wasn’t anything personal either. Just
 caution. Nothing wrong with being careful.

 Okay, he has to stop over thinking this. He’s been standing here for too long anyway, he has to get a move on. It was just a nice gesture, and he already accepted it. He can just throw it on the way back home, no big deal. There’s nothing to think about, nothing to mull over or debate. He should just focus on finishing up, and getting home so he can finally get some homework done, and turn in for the night. That’s all. That’s what should be on his mind.
Duke takes one final breath, before doing just that as he heads home. Brushing off the odd but short interaction to the side, and leaving it be for now.

 So, Metropolis, huh?
--------------------------
When the night rolls around, Gotham is as it always is. Trouble. Though that’s nothing new, and especially not for the vigilantes that protect the city - but if that’s a good thing or not is the part that’s up for debate.
Regardless, just as the day had gone and went relatively smoothly, so did the night - so far, anyway. Couple of thieves and gangs here and there, some sightings of henchmen and trying to put dents in the plans of bigger, more dangerous villains, and even some smugglers - which, Cassandra and Damian were able to track one group in particular much easier thanks to Duke following his gut. It was strange, to track down a truck just full of weird soil, but hey, this was Gotham, nothing phased any of them anymore. Even if that led to a small group, which seemed to be holding some weird ceremony or meeting  - Cassandra and Damian quickly dealt with it, and moved on with their night - going to take care of another small batch of criminals that were nearby and trying to break into a bank. Though, again, nothing noteworthy.
It was almost strange, but it was also good to not have a night that wasn’t exciting or thrilling. Left a little room to relax, especially for those that did this practically every night, so it was at least a little nice. As nice as a night in the city could be, that is, but refreshing nevertheless.
Honestly, even Bruce was starting to become a little convinced that nothing of note would really happen - that is, until he was going over something with Gordon on the rooftop of the GCPD. It started off normal enough, with plans being discussed, possibilities and near certainties thrown around, along with what the GCPD could do and so on, though all is interrupted by a new face.
“Commissioner! Officer [Last Name] has new information on the case-! Oh, um, am I interrupting something?”
It’s easy to tell when someone isn’t from Gotham, and when you’re someone like Batman, that becomes even easier to tell. Honestly, if he had to take a guess, he’d assume the officer was from one of the bigger cities. Maybe Metropolis, considering the accent and how the officer spoke, seeing as he lacked the certain gruffness all Gothamites held at the back of their throat. For Cassandra, it was how their body language read. Even if she couldn’t exactly deduce where the officer had come from, she could see they were new in some way, and obviously nervous like any rookie was when they see them for the first time. Damian
 well, he didn’t care, and scowled at the sight of the officier regardless. After all, what kind of idiot just comes on the roof like this, and strolls up to their superior so casually? Don’t get him started on that tone.
Gordon, meanwhile, turns to the new face, and sighs, “You’re fine, what’d officer [Last Name] find?”
With that, the officer explains what was relayed to them - something about finding another one of the locations for some kind of cult, things of note that were found at the scene, more mentions of ‘that event’ again, and how the officer that found out this information got a hold of one of the members and wanted to know if it’d be possible to bring them in for questioning.
“And what happened to the other cult members at the scene?” Gordon asks gruffly, quirking a brow when he hears that you were only able to bring in one person, especially when it sounded like there was a whole ceremony going on. Surely there had to be a couple more than that, right? Not to mention that you couldn't have gone in by yourself, Gordon didn’t peg you for the type, not to mention that it just didn’t make any sense to assume that - were all of you folks from Metropolis just so incompetent that all you could manage to do was catch one guy?
The officer fidgets, seemingly nervous at the question, “Well
 you see commissioner..” he drags on for a moment, averting his gaze for a moment before looking back at Gordon, “The rest killed themselves before they could be cuffed.”
What?
“How?”
The officer continues to fidgets, but a noticeable and physical effort is made to steel himself, “We’re looking into that right now- some shot themselves, others seemed to take some kind of poison- which took effect when they bit something in their mouths. We- we tried to stop some of them so that we could take in more members! Though
 some already, uh, ‘got to it’ the moment we arrived.” It was more than obvious that the officer added that last bit about their efforts to lighten the situation a bit, though it was quickly ruined by that last thing he managed to say. Still, he tried to add, “There was only a handful, no more than nine members at the scene, but
 well
” he noticeably swallows.
“I think it’s best you read the report when you’re
 done with whatever you’re currently discussing, commissioner.” 
Gordon can really only stare at the officer for a moment, before sighing heavily and rubbing temple, “Is this normal?” He asks.
The officer seems taken aback by the question, “Pardon?”
“You’ve been on this case with the others who came in, yeah?” Gordon doesn’t wait for a response as asks, “So tell me, is this behavior normal?”
“Well- you see-”
“Just answer the question, son.”
“...” The officer grows quiet, before giving a hesitant nod, “Yes, commissioner.”
The only response Gordon can give is a harsh huff before he pulls out a cigarette, and lights it, “Just my god damn luck.”
Underneath the cowl, Bruce furrows his brows. Usually when strange activity starts to spike, he’s the first to know about it. He should be the first to know about it. However, besides an odd feeling he’s been having for the past few days, he hasn’t seen anything notable during his patrols. The fact that this was news to him immediately struck Bruce as a problem, and a very big one at that. If there was a cult in Gotham that killed themselves the moment they got caught - he shouldn’t know about it. Caught onto it first, but how had he not until now? Until tonight of all nights?
Aiming to correct this problem quickly, Bruce takes a step forward, “Commissioner,” he calls out gruffly, voice low, and holding a certain edge to it now. One that was more prominent now.
Gordon looks over to Batman as he takes a brag, letting the smoke escape his lungs with a harsh exhale, “A cult of sorts has been running around, trying to do who knows what, or why. Apparently, these guys,” he gestures to the officer who’s now standing there awkwardly, just a few steps away from the door, “have been following and trying to put a stop to this group for a while now. Even followed them all the way from Metropolis- and insisted on offering help, since we got enough problems to deal with here.”
They came all the way from Metropolis? Well, that didn’t make any sense. Especially considering the hero that looks over that city. How has this cult been able to come all the way to Gotham? How do they even still exist to begin with if they came from Metropolis? Something isn’t adding up here.
“Metropolis?” Bruce then looks to the officer, who immediately tenses under the gaze of the vigilante, “Who's behind the case?”
“That- that would be officer [Last Name]- uh, sir?” When Bruce narrows his eyes, the officer corrects himself, “I- I mean detective Greenwood!”
The older vigilante huffs through his nose, but accepts the response for now. At least this gives him places to start, even if it’s not much right now, Bruce could work with it. He’s worked with less before.
Even so, he moves onto the most obvious question, “Is the detective here right now?”
“I don’t believe so- I don’t think he even came in tonight,” talk about convenient, “but- but officer [Last Name] should’ve just gotten back, and- and some of the others are around the station!” Bruce only looks to the door, and out to the city before looking back at the unnamed officer.
As if understanding the silent ‘command’, the officer shuffles to the side with a slight shiver, and Bruce walks through the door, going down into the station. Cassandra and Damian, who have been watching and just sort of listening to everything, look at each other. Some kind of silent conversation seems to pass in between them before Cassandra offers a shrug, and Damian sucks his teeth. As they move to follow after Bruce, the officer moves away a bit more, and eventually looks at Gordon once the younger vigilantes head down the stairs.
“Are they
 always like this?”
“You get used to it.”
———————————
It wasn’t hard to find the people the unnamed officer was talking about as Bruce could see a couple of people moving someone in cuffs to a prison cell, and the blood on some of their clothes also gave them away. They were only small splatters, but evident all the same, and the smell gave away what couldn’t be seen regardless. You seemed to stand out - having the most blood on you, and given the explanation from earlier, it was obvious who did and didn’t rush in immediately. The sight
 must’ve been gruesome.
Regardless, despite how busy the station was, Bruce was able to make his way through without much trouble - people naturally moved out of his way, and despite moving silently, it’s like everyone knew to avoid him and not get in his way. The same could be said for Cassandra and Damian, albeit for different reasons.
Getting information was relatively easy, and most of the people in your little group were fairly cooperative, which definitely helped. Everyone shared the extent that they knew about what was happening, and gave some information about how it related back to some things they had seen in Metropolis, which in itself was especially interesting and appreciated. The main thing Bruce could take away was that whatever was happening was nothing new. If anything, the only thing ‘new’ about it was the sudden transfer from Metropolis to Gotham - to which, only you were skeptical if that was even new at all. Aside from that, however, most of what you and the other officers who came in from Metropolis had seen in Gotham, you’ve seen before. For how long? Well, Bruce had yet to get a definite response, and only you seemed to get him closer to an actual number than anyone else.
Speaking of, you were the only one who had personally come up to him first, saying, “You’re Batman, correct? I assume you’re here to talk about the case? I’m officer [Last Name], and have been working with detective Greenwood the longest.” Which wouldn’t be so odd if not for the small detail that you had also introduced yourself first. You were straight to the point, mentioned your position, relation to the case, and really, it was a little too convenient if Bruce had a say about it.
Regardless, speaking to you was just as easy as it was for the others, and if anything, Bruce hardly had to speak at all - like you already knew the information he was going to ask for. Your words were short, kept to the point, but not vague or misleading. Despite your monotone, almost cold voice, and looking as if you had no energy left, you explained what you could and gave what you were able to with what you personally experienced, but also had learned by working so closely with Greenwood. You held the same tone and directness when Damian rarely pitched in a remark or question of his own.
Safe to say, when the night came to an end, and the family headed in for the night, Bruce didn’t even bother trying to sleep as he got straight to work. It was time to catch up on some things, and he’d be damned to fall behind on things happening in his city.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 6 months ago
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the flower guy. l Joel Miller
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Summary: someone leaves flowers at your door
Warnings: some bad words (fuck), but other than that just fluff and stupid sweet talking
A/N: I think Joel deserves everything sweet and nice, I would like to give him this scribble. (and I wanted to thank you for every heart, reblog and observation. it means a lot)
It happened again.
Curiosity led you towards the porch where for a long time, every morning, you found a flower lying there. Sometimes it was an ordinary wild flower like a poppy or cornflower, and sometimes a few daisies. And even though your mind told you that it couldn't entirely be safe, your heart melted every time you opened the door.
This time you found a lilac flower on the doormat and without thinking, you inhaled its intense scent.
Was it stupid? Unwise?
You didn't know who left you such surprises, but he definitely made your day. You went to sleep wondering if something new would appear on the wiper, and then you woke up excited like a child on Christmas Day.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
Ellie's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were walking through a meadow near Jackson, partly to look around and partly to kill time. The warm sun warmed your backs as you lazily walked through the tall grass.
"Did he show up again?" the girl lowered her voice, but couldn't hide her excitement. "Did he leave anything?"
You looked at Ellie's bright face, then quickly glanced over your shoulder. The girl's gaze followed yours.
Joel followed you a dozen or so steps and didn't seem to care about you at all.
"Shhh!" you hissed, but you couldn't hide your smile.
"He doesn't even listen to us." Ellie shrugged. "We could be talking about all your ex-boyfriends and intimate relationship details and Joel would still just find dangers around us. He doesn't care."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. He's wandering around looking for something to do. Jackson seems to be boring him. Anyway," she grabbed your arm lightly, "Did he show up again?"
"Yes." you replied quietly, "He left me a lilac flower."
"Damn! I thought he would finally invite you somewhere! Idiot..."
"Why do you say that?" you were outraged, although you didn't feel angry at the girl at all. "I think it's sweet and romantic. Besides, blind dates, in this day and age, are probably not a good idea."
"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's an idiot. He could just talk to you. Say something like, 'Hey, girl. You look stunning. Do you want to go out together?' "
You burst out laughing and quickly glanced over your shoulder again. Joel still didn't seem to be paying much attention to you.
"You should stop reading those teen magazines. They're just bullshit!"
"Are you kidding me?! They're fantastic. Can you tell me about your first time?"
"About what?!"
"About your sexual experience." Ellie sighed as if explaining such simple things to you was boring for her. "I asked Joel, but he told me to shut up and he went somewhere again."
"And he was right. You're too young for this."
"And you're too old to play ‘throwing flowers on the doormat’."
You already regretted that you had even told Ellie about what you found in front of your door in the morning. However, you had no choice, one morning she caught you picking up flowers and wouldn't leave you alone until you told her everything.
You weren't even going to tell Joel about it. He would definitely tell you right away that all this was suspicious, and then he would lie in wait outside your house with a shotgun to catch whoever was visiting you. This was definitely not a good idea.
"Hey!"
You both turned towards the voice calling to you. Joel stopped and stared intently at the nearby forest.
"I think I saw a deer there. Maybe we should go that way?" he pointed to an unspecified place.
"Are you sure?" you asked as you and Ellie approached him. "Maybe he escaped?"
"Maybe, but it's always worth checking."
"Sure. There's nothing we can do anyway. At least Ellie will be quiet."
Joel smiled slightly. You liked this view. Those little sweet lines around his eyes and some warmth radiating from him at that moment.
You were already used to Joel and Ellie's presence in Jackson, and you were also glad that they found each other in this place. You quickly found a common language and after some time Ellie became a frequent guest in your home. Thus, Joel Miller also became your close friend.
You liked his presence. And although sometimes his response was a grunt, or he looked at you in a strange way that made you wonder if you had done something stupid. You recognized his silhouette from a distance. Tall, broad shoulders, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with gray and that smile hidden in a soft beard.
Yeah, you could keep your eyes on him longer.
You quietly closed the door and ran down the few steps onto an empty road bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The pleasant coolness that surrounded you immediately woke you up. Despite everything, all you wanted to do was lie in your bed and try to get some sleep. Molly's twins cried all night because their teeth were coming in, and you promised to help her so she could nap for a while. So that night was hard.
You were already close to your house when you suddenly saw it. There was a person standing on your porch.
Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but you reacted quickly, hiding behind some boxes standing next to the nearest building.
Maybe it was stupid and you could have acted like a responsible adult, but still... Fuck! You didn't expect to catch him in a situation like this. Especially since you were so curious and...
The man withdrew and went down the stairs, the sun shining on his face.
You'd recognize this man anywhere.
You knew you wouldn't fall asleep again. Even though you were lying in bed and the window curtains were drawn tightly, you were staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was insane.
You would never in your life suspect that the person who left you flowers for so long was Joel Miller. Because how come? Joel?
You were friends, you spent a lot of time together, and Ellie treated your house almost like it was her own. But it seemed to you that he never took you seriously. To him, you were just like any other resident of Jackson, and you even had the impression that he became more gruff around you.
“Fuuuck
” you moaned, rubbing your face with your hands.
Your brain no longer functioned normally and only gave you a headache. You needed at least a few hours of sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen.
After some more fidgeting in bed, you got up, intending to take a shower and eat something.
Joel. Why did it have to be Joel? After all, it changes everything. How were you supposed to look him in the face now? Would you act like nothing happened? And why was he doing it?
You didn't even feel like going to the bar today. You were sure you would find Joel and Tommy there, and that was probably the last thing you wanted.
A loud knock on the door echoed through the house.
"Y/N? Are you there?" Ellie banged on the door again, “Y/N?”
Did you just hide behind the kitchen cabinet? God! What the hell was that supposed to be?
Ellie's footsteps faded away and you finished your coffee sitting on the kitchen floor. You had only one way out of this situation, you could pretend that nothing happened, avoid Joel for a while until the matter resolved itself. Because he definitely just wanted to please you. Flowers are not a wedding promise, right?
"Pull yourself together, kid." you muttered to yourself as you got up from the floor. “It's just Joel. Just stupid flowers. Nothing more. Don't look for something in it that isn't there.”
You could have avoided Miller, but Ellie found you the next day. She wasn't happy when you told her you wouldn't be going on patrol with them for a while and you were taking on other responsibilities in Jackson.
"But it was so fun!" the girl groaned, leaning against the bar counter. “Even Joel had fun.”
"Right. But you see, we can't spend every free moment together, Ellie." you replied, placing the just-washed glasses in the cabinet.
"Why not?"
"Because I guess I feel awkward when Joel is around." of course you didn't tell her that and she couldn't read your mind.
"Do you have anyone?"
"W-What?!" the glass almost fell out of your hand.
"Maybe you're dating someone and that's why you can't see us?"
"Bullshit."
"And your flower guy? What about him? Did he talk to you? Did he show up?"
"Ellie, please. Can you get off of me?"
"I knew it! He must have been some hideously ugly and sleazy guy!"
"Ellie!" you interrupted her, placing your hands on your hips. “Stop it! I don't want to talk about it. These are adult matters, not for you.”
"Oh, sure! Joel says the same thing when I ask him where he's going alone this early in the morning. 'None of your business, kid.'" the girl mimicked the low tone of Joel's voice, "You two should meet up and talk about your adult stuff, because you're both acting weird." "
Was it easy for you? NO.
Did you feel bad for Ellie and Joel? Yes. Especially towards Joel.
Would you give anything to go back to the way it was before? Yes. You guess.
There was one big swirl of thoughts in your head, and your life had been like a game of hide and seek for several days. Flowers continued to appear on your doormat and you felt extremely guilty.
You liked Joel. Even very much. You could list a lot of his advantages and disadvantages, but it all made him what he was. You missed him so much, but you were afraid that if you went any further, your friendship might suffer. And then avoiding him in Jackson would be even more difficult.
It happened the day you were cleaning one of the warehouses. It was already starting to get dark outside when you, completely immersed in your thoughts, were arranging cans and jars on wooden shelves.
"I got you."
It was like a gunshot. A low and warm voice appeared out of nowhere, but you knew its owner perfectly.
You turned around. Joel stood leaning against the door, watching you warily. His denim shirt had a few buttons undone and his arms were folded across his chest.
"Oh, hi." you mumbled, "I didn't hear you come in. Do you need anything?"
"You." he replied and you felt your throat tighten.
You must have looked scared, because Miller added after a moment.
"I mean... Fuck." he cleared his throat, "I was looking for you because you seem to have been avoiding me lately."
"Where did this idea come from?" you tried to smile, but it probably came out too nervous. “I'm definitely not avoiding you. I've just been busy. Just busy.”
"I got a different impression."
You didn't know how to respond to that so you tried to go back to work, but Joel was still standing there. You felt his eyes on you and your cheeks burned.
"So everything's okay between us?" he asked after a moment of silence.
"Definitely." you replied quickly, "Everything's great!"
"Okay then."
Silence again. It would be easier for you if he left, but he still stood there.
"You know, Ellie thinks you're seeing someone." he started again.
You turned to Joel.
"No, that's not true. I already told her about it." you replied, "I don't know why we're even bringing this up, Joel. I've had some work to do lately. I can't be with you all the time, even if I wanted to... It's complicated, Joel."
"I get it. It's a little complicated for me too, because I really like being with you."
You bit your lip because those words were really...nice. And comfortable for you. You missed him so much that it was hard for you to admit it, even to yourself.
“Listen, Y/N. I'm really bad at this.” Joel nervously placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't done this in years and it might seem embarrassing. Ellie would definitely say I'm acting like an idiot. I think I know why you've been avoiding me, and it's not because of work."
"You think so?"
"Yeah."
The ball was in your court. Joel stood in front of you, completely disarmed and needing your help to sort this all out.
"I know it's you, Joel." you started hesitantly, "Those flowers, I saw you the other morning. It kind of surprised me."
"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I..."
"NO!" you interrupted him quickly. "It was the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time. I was just scared, you know. We're friends, I don't want any of our bad decisions to change that."
“We're only human, Y/N. We'll always make bad decisions, but there will be good ones too.”
"But should we take the risk? I really like you a lot, Joel. I've missed you so much."
He walked towards you slowly.
"I missed you too." he said "God, every day I found myself wanting to look at you, hear your voice or laugh. And then I realized that you weren't with me. I didn't want you to feel trapped by me."
"I didn't feel like that! I guess I never realized what I felt. Having you next to me was just natural to me."
"Same here." he smiled "I guess we actually acted like fucking kids."
"I think so. Ellie wouldn't leave us alone if she found out."
"She'll find out anyway." Joel shrugged. “Because now I want to do it right, Y/N. I know we don't have many options, but maybe you'd like to... Fuck.” he took a deep breath. "Maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me? We can have a few drinks, talk, and spend some time together. Alone."
"Sounds really good."
His face lit up with a smile, and you realized how much you missed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were acting like kids, but why wouldn't you?
When Joel left the warehouse, he seemed to be in a really good mood, and you felt a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to spend this evening with him, you wanted to see his wonderful and warm eyes again. You may have had a soft spot for him, but he definitely felt the same way.
And you were both like teenagers, and that was good.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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sakumz · 15 days ago
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[ a. harumasa x fem reader ]
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" come on the situation isn't that bad, " harumasa says as yanagi shakes her head.
" you're right, it isn't that bad. " you mocked, " it's terrible! " you slam open the door of section six office, as all heads turn to you. what was the section one slave doing here? sure you were in charge of checking their files here and there, same with them to yours. harumasa drop the file yanagi handed him earlier upon your arrival. sweat dripping down his forehead. was it really that terrible?
" ms l/n, you reek of alcohol. " miyabi starts as she gets down from her stool, hand on the hilt of her sword as you shake your head.
" wasn't section one having a party to celebrate your newly promoted chief? " soukaku questions.
" I only drank one can, I'm not drunk! " you scold.
" anyways you're all allowed to go home, except you, mr asaba harumasa! " they didn't press further but obliged, yanagi can only pray you go easy on him.
" come on was it that terrible? " you can't help but glare dangers. his work these days are incomprehensible. he was supposed to write a report about the recent hollow case. was it that hard to recall everything from start to finish without missing any details? he didn't even describe what ethereals was in it.
" yes it was, " you jab a finger to his chest, making him fall back on his chair. he swiddle around before pushing himself to his table.
" please rewrite the report or I'll make you write more. " he sighs, playfully putting his head down. you lean down to meet his face as he close his eyes. was he going to sleep?
" hey, don't sleep, " you poke his forehead as he shot up straight.
" if you're gonna stay with me, why don't you write it? I'll tell you the details, " you can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. was he really not going to do his work? it's just one report!
" you'll be free to go if you complete this earlier, you know. "
" I don't feel like doing it... " he sighs as he place his head down again.
few minutes past as awkward silence engulfs the room, you pull the chair next to his. he's eating up your time. how can he fall asleep after a scolding? or a bickering... either way how can he sleep during a situation like this!
" hey, if you do this report I'll do whatever you want. " you ruffle his hair, as he sat straight, stretching as he look at you, eyes beaming at your words.
" anything you say? " he teased as you regret your words.
" yes anything, but you better write the report correctly and properly within one hour! " you watch as he quickly turns on the computer smashing keys after keys as he ponders in between. it's pretty comical how he suddenly wants to vanquish his report.
you glance at the clock from time to time, he's focused on the task at hand. with one final key smash, his paper was printed as he went to grab it for you. handing it over as he stood in front of you. you flip and skim through the pages, pleased that whatever he wrote at least made sense and is connected.
" well, goodjob and thanks for the report. I'll submit it for you, " you stood up as his hands quickly fly over to your shoulder, pressing you back down on the chair. he's got you trap between him.
" are you forgetting something, miss? " he leans forwards, staring into your soul as a blush finds its way over to your face. this is the first he's ever been close to you. you push the paper over to your face, trying to cover your face and calm your raging heart.
" what did I-I forget? " how you wish you didn't tell him, you'll do whatever he wants, so he'll finish his report and let you go home at least before midnight.
he pulls the paper down, smirking at your shyness or fake ignorance. you didn't forget the promise.
" I was gonna ask for a date for my hardwork but maybe a date isn't enough. " you stare at him as your blush just keeps growing. your hands starts to feel sweaty, is this guy serious?
" be my girlfriend. " he smiles as you push him off but he doesn't budge.
" I say I'll do whatever you want- "
" do be my girlfriend, " he beams even brighter if that was even possible.
" and as my girlfriend, you should give your very hardworking boyfriend a kiss for doing a goodjob on his report, " he purse his lips, making a ' muah ' sound.
maybe it's time to face the music, you do like him and you hope this isn't a prank or anything. you did say you'll do whatever and if what he says it's true he did save a lot of time from beating around the bush and confessing.
" are you being serious right now? " he stop as he looks at you offended.
" I'm always serious when it's you, girlfriend. " he winks as you cringe.
" come on, give me that kiss and we can go home! "
you close your eyes and lean in, aiming to give a kiss to his cheek but he was quick to lean in and steal your lips with his. your eyes shot open, he place a hand behind your head. when he pulls away to catch his breath, you were starstruck. he leans again as you slap your hands over his lips.
" you said a kiss. " you can't help the silly smile threatening to crawl when he pouts, shoulder dropping at the rejection. he pulls away as he stood up, taking your hand in his.
" fine fine, more kisses will come anyways. let's take you home, " he drags you away and walks you to your apartment.
when he bids you farewell at your doorstep, he did kiss you once again. wishing you a very goodnight as you said the same.
to say the least this bro won't do shit when he's feeling extra tired or lazy so you'll have to step in and reward him with kisses or hugs and mostly both. it has been an occurrence in section six almost everyday, that yanagi has to physically pry you away when harumasa can't let go of you when he hugs you. you pat his head as you say goodbye as he weeps on his desk jokingly...
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sweetieviktor · 1 month ago
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viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2
summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.
content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)
author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)
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» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.
you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.
“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.
“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”
» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.
when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”
“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”
» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.
» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.
» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.
“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.
“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.
jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”
soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.
“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.
“he is in love, boy.”
jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.
“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.
jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”
“i don't want to say it.”
“please?”
“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”
“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.
» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.
» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.
» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.
you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.
heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”
“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.
heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.
“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”
“but you were-”
“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.
“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.
“fuck you.”
“language, boy!”
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moonshynecybin · 6 months ago
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Hey! Just wanted to say I’m in awe of how your writing it’s just so GOOD and FUN and TORUROUS. It’s rly hard to nail the voices and dialogue of characters (especially when writing them speaking in english!) but you always make it so believable. Ur Vale especially is sooo charismatic which like hats off bc a more mercurial man has not been made. 
Re ur charged-airport-conversation fic, I’m intrigued to find out how Marc will handle his sexuality crisis. Will he be in denial? does he very seriously study gay culture like telemetry data? is he getting Grindr? is he seeing it as something to incorporate into his PT routine & somehow translate this to a competitive edge? how did he feel about the pope saying frociaggine????
Also I loved the goofy brother shenanigans, Alex strongest most patient and silliest man alive truly. Extremely funny to think of Alex “please get a girlfriend you’re 30 and annoying me” Marquez having to cope with Marc coming back like “I found one! :3” holding hands with Cervera’s enemy #1 undisputed champ 2015-2024
Anyways, would love to hear any thoughts u had but no pressure! I just wanted to thank u for ur brilliant mind & forget about whatever fresh hell that sprint was 
this one. is one that i plan to maybe actually and fr write out so i shant answer in full because i hope that you'll find out eventually. um. i CAN give you chapter two! of THIS fic where Marc and Vale get stuck in an airport and have a somewhat fraught little bonding session. i have not proofread this OR reread the original so if there's inconsistencies just chill out. theres also a lot of liberties taken with the amount of privacy these guys have on a given race weekend again just chill out. please. they live in different countries and are bitter rivals its hard to get them alone into fictional scenarios. its about 1.4k.
(Part ONE !)
The next time he sees Vale is in the paddock.
It's not unusual to see him— the paddock is small and Vale is always a presence, felt even when he’s gone, indelible—but it’s on the television more often than not these days. Maybe a glimpse of him zooming around on his scooter, ignoring the swing of the camera phones tracking him in his wake. But it’s not like this, never this close up. Vale maintains distance, and Marc has adapted to take his cues from that same distance. He’s not going to be the first to engage, not anymore. 
All that being said, Marc is trying to grab some alone time in between sessions, communing with his lunch and contemplating ways to improve his breaking into Turn 11. He’s tucked into a shady place out of the way, generally out of the range of any stray cameras, when Vale catches him, sliding next to him on the table and leaning forwards on his elbows.
He starts picking at Marc’s food.
Marc reacts reflexively, not even processing that it's Vale who’s at his elbow who is reaching over to snag a bit of his chicken. He lifts his bowl out of reach like he would with Alex. “Hey— that's mine,”
Vale’s game, apparently, shooting him one of those dangerous grins, eyes crinkling at the sides towards Marc like he hasn’t seen in years. He’s brimming with the confidence of someone used to getting away with breaking rules. Marc puts down his food. Lifts a hand, adjusts the cap at the top of his head, and tucks his hair behind his ear. 
This means something. He doesn’t know what.
“Allora, you were not eating it.”
And Marc has always been easy for it—the simple skill he has in spinning a situation into the brightest version of itself, mood turning on a dime. Even when he was destroying Marc, he would do it with a smile. 
It’s that same silverbright thread that makes Marc laugh, disbelieving, a shock of delight. He shoves at the edge of Vale’s arm, jockeying with his elbow. He bites his lip, shakes his head. Would you look at that?
“Presumptuous,” Marc scolds, and tucks back into his lunch, forking another bite into his mouth. Vale grins and leans closer, conspiratorial. That same hot, embarrassed feeling from the airport rears its head, giddy. Marc glances around. There’s no one here. He feels like there is. LIke there’s eyes on them, even though he’d chosen a place where there shouldn't be.
It feels like crossing a line, teetering on the edge of some cliff, one toe over the edge. Hot and anticipatory in the pit of his stomach. There’s a breeze going, and he shivers. Vale leans closer.
He likes it. 
He also knows that he shouldn't like it. He’s gone through this song and dance before. This feeling, this hero worship that he has with Vale never leads him down any good road. He thought– six premier class titles and nearly ten years of vitriol had been an effective cure. Not so, he’s finding out.
Vale corrects, “I see what I see. This I cannot help.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve been watching me?
Vale shrugs, steals another bite. “You do manage to put on a good, ah, show.” He finds the words in Spanish. Marc can’t remember the last time they spoke in Spanish.
Marc takes a breath in. Settles himself. He doesn’t know what the end goal is here. Curiosity wins out— it’s better than wondering why Vale’s here in the first place. What game he’s trying to play. What he thinks he’ll get out of being nice to Marc, aside from that shivery feeling clawing its way up the base of his spine. He should really at least find out if he’s doing this because he plans on not being nice to Marc. 
“How did you find me?” Is what he goes with. Neutral enough. 
“You are not hard to find.” The answer is vague, but frank. Vale loves to speak around things.
Marc raises an eyebrow, decides to just keep looking at him. They both know he’s bullshitting. Vale breaks, and makes a face, shrugging.
“I have been racing here longer than you. I know the hiding spots.”
Marc gives him a minute roll of the eyes. It's still not an answer. “You know, they remodeled not too long ago. The entire layout changed.” Vale would’ve had to work to find him. 
“Not too much!” Vale spreads his palms cheerfully, seizing on a diversion. “The bones are still the same. The stands are over there,” he juts a thumb, “The pits are here. The bathrooms change, but bah. It’s a facelift.”
Marc wrangles down a smile. Vale’s not being serious— he’s being fun. Maybe he’s trying to get him comfortable for some reason. “A lot changes, I think.” He says frankly, and he means it. 
Vale’s eyes flash. He sees Marc’s conviction, catches the double meaning. Another one of their conversations centering around two different issues on the surface, but coming back to their history all the same. The elephant in the room butting into other topics. History, division, and rivalry, all sneaking its way into the cracks in their words. 
Vale keeps going, the lead in their little play.
“Maybe. But it’s not— like, aerodynamics, new regulations, new tires— all that changes. Small stuff.  Opinions, riders. But it is still a paddock. I’ve been in paddocks my entire life. You can’t change much.”
Things change a lot, in Marc’s experience. People. Teams. Bodies. 
Friendships.
And Marc is brave usually, has made a career out of it, so he feels like he has to ask. No use avoiding it and feeling half out of his skin for the rest of the day. Vale’s knee bumps into his own and he closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them Vale is already looking at him
“Why are you here?” He levels.
Vale throws him a soft smile. It comforts exactly no part of Marc.
“Maybe I was looking for a hiding place.”
Marc hesitates, choosing his words carefully. It’s always a spar with Valentino; even when they were friendly, they were still competing.
“Am I the hiding place?”
“Well, I am still more famous than you, is true. Less photographers on you than me. It’s peaceful.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Now there’s a good question.” Vale says, stealing something else off of Marc’s plate. “Today? I was hungry. I thought I’d stop by and eat with an old friend.” The words jolt through Marc like a highside. He’s in the air— lost, flying, falling. 
Vale stands, towering. He claps Marc on the shoulder. It burns white hot. Marc keeps his eyes on him, trying to catch a hint, a clue as to how this all happened. 
An old friend.
“Is that what we are?” He asks, more earnest than he should be. Vale can be such a bastard.
“Well, what would you call it?” He responds, turning the question on Marc, voice quiet. Serious, like he knows whatever hangs between them is as thin as a spiderweb. Marc swallows.
“I don’t know,” Marc answers. still too honest, even now. Something flickers on Vale’s face, too quick and complex for him to read. 
“Think about it.” Vale prompts, and walks away.
Marc finds out that they weren’t alone, in that section of the paddock the next day. The pictures hit the news after the race, headlines rolling in thankfully after Marc has left for home. Valentino Rossi and Marc Marquez sharing lunch, alone on a race weekend ten years after their falling out. What could it mean? 
But Marc’s eyes look at the photo and just catch on Vale’s shoulders, leaning towards Marc, the palm of his hand, arcing through the air as he gestures, frozen on the screen of his phone, and himself, eyes crinkled at the corners. He was wrong. He didn’t manage to reign in that smile after all. 
FRIENDS AGAIN?, the headline asks, and Marc wonders.
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admirationandromantics · 17 days ago
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Stormy Confession
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Another request! Don't worry, I do have several more in my inbox, but please be patient, they will come eventually! Anyways, hope you enjoy this. As usual, it's not edited, but who cares?
Word count: 1,9k (Unedited)
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They’re BEST friends with benefits, so there is already an established chemistry between them. They’re stuck in a snow storm anddd “im totally kidding but im kind of freezing rn and my heater’s busted” so they decided to hook up in josh’s very roomy car, only to realize “hey ik im being dramatic but we COULD die rn so i need to confess that im in love with you
” lmao my writing is so jumbled but i know you could do wonders with this idea!đŸ„čđŸ„č
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The wind is getting worse, almost like it’ll tip the car over. Josh is sitting beside me, driving the car, all tensed up by the stress of it. Usually, I would comment on it, but I understand the gravity of the situation. We just need to keep going, we don’t have that far left. 
The trees outside are dark. Gentle snow taking its place on the pine needles. If it weren’t for the storm, I would love it. Luckily, it’s clear enough that we can still see the road, but I wonder how long that’s going to last. 
I check the weather update, but it’ll not clear up until the middle of the night. If we were to stay in the car until then, we would have to climb the mountain in the dark. This is not something I want to do, but I guess at this point, it’s a must. We just have to stay clear of wild animals, navigate in the dark, try not to slip down the path again. 
We were planning to get to Blackwood Mountain and the Washington lodge. Of course, we went a day earlier than the others, planning on cleaning and getting the place ready. What none of us idiots thought about doing, was to check the weather. About halfway there, the snow got worse. It came in quick patches, making driving hard, and freezing up the car. 
“Josh, it’s literally freezing in here, can you turn on the heater?” 
“It’s busted, was gonna get it fixed after the trip” 
“Of course you were” 
I lean back in my seat, pulling up my backpack and taking out my gloves. At least some part of me would stay warm. As we drive on a long straight row, he leans back and manoeuvres the car with his knee, bringing both hands up to his face to blow hot air into them. Poor guy. I remember that he brought some extra outerwear, just wondering where he left them. My thoughts fly to his bag, he couldn’t have placed them in the front, so back it was. I lean over the mid row and back, trying to find his bag in the back seats. 
“Where’s your backpack?” I ask, rummaging through a bunch of stuff. A blanket, some firewood, a plastic bag. Why is there so much stuff here? We don’t need all of it, and I know for a fact that the lodge has large stacks of firewood. 
“Keep looking” he laughs, not bothering to help me. 
“Josh, just tell me where you put it” 
He laughs, one hand going on the back of my thigh, slightly squeezing my flesh. That’s why he’s being difficult. He just wants to tease me. 
“Stop being a perv and tell me” I sigh, not exactly being a fan of my position. He should be busy driving, not checking me out. 
“But I’m enjoying the view” 
“The only view you should be enjoying is the road in front of you” 
I finally notice it, a small backpack with a scarf and gloves sticking out from under the seat. I lean a bit more forward to reach it, earning a whistle from the guy. I roll my eyes, grabbing the clothing and trying to move back. I get halfway before he speaks. 
“Hard swing” 
“Wha-”
The car takes a rough turn, making my body jolt to the side. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can’t this man drive a little more carefully? If this unplanned storm doesn’t kill us, then he definitely will. I fall to the side, hips landing in his lap, faces against each other. He has that known playful smirk on his lips, proud of his dangerous accomplishment. 
“You good?” 
“You’re insane” 
“Nah, just a good driver” he shrugs his shoulders, trying not to laugh at himself. 
“You’re not a good driver” 
His arms move over me, holding onto the steering wheel in front of him. His eyes finally move to the road, and he keeps driving as if everything’s normal. I try to sit up, but his hands won’t budge, leading to me falling down again. 
“Josh, if you would be so kind” I force a tight smile, nodding to the caging arms. He looks down, the playful smirk still covering his lips as he thinks. 
“Do you have my gloves?” 
“Indeed I do” 
“Put them on me” 
I look at him in disbelief, what was he, a child? He can easily do that himself. I shake my head, laughing a little at the situation. No way am I going to do that. He has one hand on the wheel, the other held out to me. I roll my eyes, deciding that this is enough. 
I try to get up yet again, but this time, his empty hand finds my chest and pushes me down into him. I give a loud and dramatic sigh, which makes him fully reveal that stupid laughter of his that he’s kept in. 
“You know I could sue you for this?” 
“I can sue you too, disrupting the driver” 
“You made this happen” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” 
I give in, laying against him and relaxing while he drives. No way am I going to be his servant. He’s not that rich. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, both just minding our own thing. 
Just now, I realise how much warmer I feel while brushing against him. Body heats colliding as he holds me close. A cozy and sleepy murmur comes over me, and I close my eyes, drifting away as we continue driving off. 
***
I press my eyes forcefully together, opening them little by little. The outside is darker than before, and Josh’s still driving into the night, eyes focused on the road. I stretch, giving a yawn at the same time. He shifts his gaze, a smile immediately finding his lips. 
“Well, well, if it isn’t Ms. Sleepy” 
“How long have I been gone?” 
“Around half an hour” 
I nod in reply, head turning to the dark forest and snowy rocks. We were almost there now. 
“And no death yet, I’m impressed” I comment, sitting up as high as he allows me. 
“Wind almost took the car about 10 minutes ago” 
My eyes widen in surprise. Is the weather really that bad? Shouldn’t we stop and wait for it to pass? The thought of it scares me, after all, the mountains this time of year are not that safe as everyone makes them out to be. I mean, if we’re in the lodge, it’s okay. But we’re not. We’re in a moving vehicle, which almost got flipped by the wind. 
“Hey, don’t worry. We’re almost there” 
I nod again. The parking lot is a bit more secluded than the road, so the wind won’t be as strong. But how’re we getting up to the lodge? The cable car is already a death trap, no way I’m going to sit in it during the storm. 
A road hole makes me yelp, body jolting up and down. I automatically grab hold of his arm, steadying myself. His lips thins as he bites them, eyes forced on the road. His breathing changes, big stuttering inhales as if to calm himself down. 
“Josh, are you okay?” 
He doesn’t look down on me, instead his vision is on the path ahead. His knuckles are white from gripping the wheel, and I glimpse a vein popping and going under his jacket. What’s going on with this guy? 
We finally swing into the parking lot, and he parks the car and turns off the engine. We sit in silence, both unsure about our next move. With his arms not in the way, I finally sit up. I grab his shoulder for help, and he takes his arm to my back for support. 
“I don’t think we should go to the lodge yet” he comments, looking out to the cable car station. 
“I know, we’d probably be blown to bits” 
“That’s one way of putting it” 
His other hand goes to my waist, pressing me down on him. That’s when I feel it. He’s hard, very hard. He’s been since the road hole. 
“Are you struggling a bit, Josh?” a smile creeping up on my lips. Oh, how pleasant to finally have some of the power. 
His hand goes to my hair, brushing it away. 
“Oh, you have no idea” 
His head moves closer, fingers gliding over my cheek. He’s cold, extremely cold. It’s like gracing ice taps against my skin. I pull away, taking his hands in mine and warming them.
“You’re freezing” 
“Better do something about it then” 
He moves into me, capturing my lips in his. I respond, opening my mouth a little and licking his lower lip. I don’t forget about his hands though, and carefully puts his gloves on them as we keep going. I change positions, and he helps me, letting me straddle him in the driver's seat. His hands go to my ass, kneading and caressing. I moan into the kiss, which he uses as an opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth. He fiddles with something behind me, and before I know it, ice-cold fingers make their way down my pants, holding my cheeks. I gasp, the shocked feeling being overcome. This was extreme, why hadn’t he said something about it before. He chuckles against my lips, mouth moving to my jaw and neck, leaving sweet kisses all over. The wet spots get instantly cold when he moves away, and I shutter. 
“W-we should not do this here” 
“I know, I know” 
“We’re going to freeze to death” 
“A bit dramatic are we?” 
“J-Josh” he stops in his tracks, lips glossy and eyes lustful. We both know that we can’t start undressing. With the heater not working, and the snow storm getting worse, that’s the last thing we should be thinking about. God, how dizzy the whole situation makes me feel. I don’t want to be down here. I want to be up in the lodge, alone with him, in front of the fire. 
“Or get eaten by wolves” 
“No we’re not”
“What if an elk attack the car?” 
“We’re not a threat to them” 
“If we’re going to die, I need to confess something” 
“We’re not going to die”
“Five more minutes and your fingers would snap off as easily as bending a carrot” 
“True, but-” 
“Josh
” I put my glove-covered finger over his mouth, stopping his sweet remarks. If there was a time to say it, it had to be now, before we both froze to death, in his car, to be found tomorrow morning by the others. 
“I love you. And I know, we’ve had this whole deal or something where we’ve had sex, and yeah I mean several times, but that’s not the point because I couldn’t stop myself, and please don’t stop seeing me as a friend after this, I promise I’ll get over it, but it’s just something I need to get off my chest or else I can die and not-” 
He shuts me up with a kiss. Hands still on my ass, pressing me deeper against him. 
“Fucking hell, you talk a lot” 
“You already know that about me” 
“Just shut up and kiss me”
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tyunkus · 2 years ago
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amazon wishlist — kang taehyun
pairing: roommate!kang taehyun x afab!reader summary: your roommate and best friend, taehyun, finds a dildo on your amazon wishlist.
wc: 5.5k
warnings: masturbation, dry humping, dirty talk (praise, some degradation), pet names (princess, angel, baby, pretty), like One spank, teasing/humiliation?, penetrative, safe sex, mention of cunnilingus and handjob, also unrealistic because taehyun games here but. let me live my gamer bf dreams ok?
note: originally wrote this in 3rd person and then had to manually change it to 2nd person so sorry for any mistakes ! also still figuring how this site works so sorry for the plain formatting. i dont actually know if amazon sells dildos, and if they cost $30? probably not but yk... artistic liberty... capitalism...
There’s no chicken.
You notice this one Friday afternoon in the middle of July, while the pavements outside sizzle from the heat and the sun spills through the windows and warms up your back. You’re in the kitchen, sifting through a pathetic heap of frozen food. Usually, you head to the nearby supermarket after pilates class to pick up a pack of bacon; other times, Taehyun comes home after a day with Kai bearing a bag of frozen wedges. Either way, it’s clear that neither of you have bought anything edible since your last grocery run two weeks ago.
Frozen french fries. Korean corndogs. A half-empty pack of fishcakes. No chicken.
You open the fridge, eyes skimming over its meager contents, as if it would be there. It isn’t. You open the freezer again, wondering if the gods above would be so gracious as to summon some chicken breast into your freezer to feed you and your roommate tonight. They don’t.
“Maybe we should go grocery shopping.”
You’re fresh from a long, elaborate shower. Your hair falls in wet tresses over your shoulders and you’re clad in dolphin shorts and a big shirt that might have been Taehyun’s but you borrowed so often and for so long that he probably forgot it ever belonged to him. It’s your turn to cook dinner and you’re grumbling over the fact that Taehyun cooked your only remaining pack of chicken breast last night when you hear his bedroom door click open.
Just in time. A shitty rap song follows the sound of the soft padding of his footsteps against the floor. “Hey, you home?” he calls from halfway down the hallway, but you cut him off before he can say anything else.
“I told you I would cook chicken and you still finished it last night, and now there’s nothing for me to cook, asshole,” you say, more exasperated than angry. You turn around just as he walks in, wearing nothing but black joggers and his obnoxious RGB headset. His eyes are wide and bashful. You wrinkle your nose and turn around again. “What happened to your shirt?”
Taehyun has the decency to sound sheepish. “Sorry, I was playing with the boys,” he mumbles, like that wasn’t painfully obvious already. You have no problem with seeing Taehyun or shirtless guys by themselves, but a shirtless Taehyun has you torn between wanting to throw up and throwing away your clothes. Maybe to other people having a first-class view of his washboard abs sounds like a blessing, but to you, it’s only a level below mental distress.
“Tell Kai I said hi,” you say absently, now going through your drawers for restaurant flyers (if worse comes to worst, you’ll order takeout for tonight). “Anyway, what’d you come outside for?”
“I needed to talk to you about something.”
At this, you peer over your shoulder, studying Taehyun’s face. He doesn’t look particularly upset, just stoic, which is a dangerous sign in itself. Taehyun’s usually calm, but he’s not stoic—at least, not in this stage of your friendship, when Taehyun has known you long enough to stop pretending that he’s some sort of tsundere.
“Is something wrong?” you ask softly, turning around to lean against the counter.
“I saw your wishlist on Amazon. Why do you have a dildo on there?”
The words fall on you like a bucket of hardened cement. You feel your heart rate increase by about a thousand beats.
“I—you what?” you sputter in disbelief. There are a few seconds in-between this moment of horror where you want to scold him, yell at him, do anything, but it’s not like he’s in the wrong. It’s your Amazon wishlist. But why was he snooping around on it? And why did you put a dildo on it? Fuck. Your mind searches for an intelligent response, but all that falls out of your mouth is, “Other people can see that?”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows. “Yes? I hope you didn’t share it with your parents or anything, ‘cause it’s like, the first one on the list.”
You grip the counter, suddenly feeling very ill. “Oh. Shit.” You had not done anything of the sort—you kept your parents away from your online presence for that very reason. But if anyone was to stumble upon your questionable wishlist on Amazon dot com, you weren’t expecting Taehyun of all people. Your best friend? And roommate? Really? Fuck Jeff Bezos, for real.
“But that’s besides the point,” Taehyun says, advancing towards you, and you back up a little. Between his tall, wide-shouldered frame and you being a good bit smaller, you discover that it is very, very easy to feel intimidated, almost trapped, by him. “Why do you need to buy one? You know I got a dick, right?”
It’s like another punch to the stomach, except someone also crushed your head with a boulder. If you weren’t red before, you definitely are now, sweat pooling at your palms at his implication. “What the fuck are you talking about.”
Taehyun shrugs and reaches behind you to grab a glass from the dish holder. “I’m just saying,” he says, making his way over to the sink. “Why waste thirty dollars on some plastic when you can get the real thing for free? And better?”
Are you even hearing him right? “Genuinely what are you on,” you say, still aghast. “I wanted to buy one because—because—I mean, I-I don’t know, it’s normal! Shit, Taehyun, does it really matter? Don’t tell me you’re being serious.”
He shrugs again. “Why not?”
You say the first thing that pops into your mind. “What if it sucks?”
Taehyun only laughs. “You really have that little faith in me?”
“I don’t know!” You think briefly on the sex talks you two have had—some you had sprawled over each other on the couch, glasses of soju in hand; others you had during movie nights, clay masks smeared over your faces while you struggled not to laugh too hard. They were fun, sure, but it’s one thing to hear Taehyun talk about fucking other people and another to hear him talk about fucking you. To your knowledge, Taehyun’s pretty good in bed, but
 But why are you even considering it? You both have been best friends for years. If you have sex, it’s only going to ruin your friendship. There are other ways for you to feel good—ways that don’t risk a seven-year friendship and getting kicked out of the apartment.
“I don’t know,” you say again, suddenly terrified at yourself for not giving him a straight answer. It should be a hard, flat no! You shouldn’t be considering it all! Yet here you are, your brain suddenly full of the thought of Taehyun and his dick.
“Hey, I’m just saying. Trying to open up some options for you here. I’m one hundred percent willing, but only if you are.” Taehyun puts up his hands like that settles it. He flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay? And if you still don’t want to, that’s chill too. We’ll both act like this never happened.”
Is that even possible? “Right,” you say, feeling faint. “Okay, yeah.”
Taehyun’s smile doesn’t fade. You can only watch as he takes a swig of water and shuffles happily to his room.
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You think about it. Probably a bit too much.
You have an essay to write for your class, and it’s due in a few hours—but you can’t stop thinking about it. It being Taehyun fucking you. In your defense, you’ve been pent up all week, trying to balance your academics and health and social life and Taehyun all without having any time for yourself, so it makes sense, you think. You hope it makes sense that you’re fantasizing about your roommate, considering everything that’s happening to you.
You shut your laptop and sigh, lying back down on your bed. Taehyun has been acting completely normal in the three days between now and when he had first made his offer, which you are endlessly grateful for, but also bewildered by. He had even paid for takeout that same night, and you had eaten it together on the floor of your living room, and it was like nothing had even happened. Still, you’ve been mulling it over ever since. Pondering it, if you will. And it’s not your first time. Many nights you have found your tired, worn-out brain wandering to your roommate, his pretty face, great body, cute personality
 How it would feel. What he would do. Taehyun, leaning over you, kissing you, running his pretty hands up and down your skin. Nipping at your collarbone with his sharp, perfect teeth. Grazing them along your neck, sucking at the soft parts.
Fuck. You’re wet.
You feel crazy.
Your hands slide down your panties, face burning with shame. The only thing you can think of is Taehyun, his soft skin and pretty brown eyes, his lean arms and chest. You picture him above you, caging you between his arms, a glittering smile on his face as he touches you, his back muscles flexing. Do you like that? he whispers, his voice low and raspy. You don’t even have to work hard to imagine what he sounds like during sex—the walls here are awfully thin, he’s a twenty-one-year-old guy, and you’ve thought about it more often than not.
“Fuck,” you keen, your hips rolling up as you dip your finger into your folds. Your free hand trails up your torso and into your mouth; you roll your tongue around your fingers and wish, crazily, that you were sucking on Taehyun’s instead. “Shit, oh f—”
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“About your offer.”
You’re sitting at the dining table. Taehyun is halfway through his serving of pancakes that you made for him in a partly-tired, mostly-horny daze. After a particularly busy morning, you can’t remember much of last night other than the fact that you fucked yourself sore and came three times in a row, no refractory period, and now you can barely hold your fork.
Taehyun looks up at you. He’s shirtless again. If you were any crazier you would be disappointed that he never left much room for imagination before your first time together. “My offer,” he echoes.
“From a few days ago,” you clarify, poking your fork through your slice of toast. “The. You-fucking-me thing.”
“Ah.” Taehyun leans back and you can tell he’s fighting down a smile. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Well. I’ve been kinda
 you know, lately,” you begin, staring hard at your plate, “and I was gonna buy the
 you know, but then I realized my shipping address is still at my parents’ house and I really don’t want to wait for another week or pay extra to get it the next day or pay thirty dollars for a plastic dick so—”
“So you want me to fuck you?”
You let out a breath and brave a glance at him. “Yeah,” you mumble.
“That’s all you had to say,” Taehyun says with a smile. He pushes his plate away and fixes you with a look. “When do you want to do it? Kinda weird to be planning this out, no?”
You groan and bury your face in your hands. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do it,” you groan.
Taehyun laughs, reaching over to touch your arm. “Don’t worry about it. What about later tonight? After you’re finished with your homework, I can help you unwind,” he suggests, and he sounds like he’s just telling you about the weather—but his voice has dropped about three octaves and normally you would find this shit cringe, but. Holy fuck.
You aren’t one for slutshaming, but perhaps you are one yourself. You squeeze your thighs together and nod, your gaze falling to the table. “Sure. That sounds good.”
“Good. You can come to my room once you’ve finished. I won’t be playing tonight, so don’t worry about interrupting. Well, you might be interrupting something, but—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Nooo need to elaborate,” you spit, standing up and picking up your plate. Taehyun laughs as you walk over to the sink and put away your dish. When you return back to the dining table, he continues eating like nothing happened. “I’ll go study now.”
“Study well, pretty.”
You make a vague sound of affirmation before slipping inside your room again. You back up against the door and take a second to breathe, then shuffle over to your closet.
Your panties are wet. Again.
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“Come in.”
You step inside his room. It’s dark—his lights aren’t on, save for the RGB strips on his setup. He sits on his chair, legs spread, lap looking awfully inviting. For once, he’s wearing a hoodie, and he looks like he just got off a game.
“I expected to catch you at a more
 compromising time,” you say, carefully.
“Funny way to say you wanted to see me jerking off.”
“I didn’t say that,” you say with a frown, and you stop walking in front of his chair. Taehyun pats his lap. He’s smiling so, so wide.
“Take a seat.”
You’re grateful when his hands reach up to cup your waist, guiding you as you slide a leg over him and sit down. It’s weird—oddly comfortable, but your tits are pressed up against his chest and your faces are really, really close. Like, close enough you can see each of his eyelashes. He’s so, so pretty.
Taehyun looks you in the eye. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice soft. When you nod, he hums and squeezes your waist. “Alright. Tell me about your day.”
“Huh?”
“Foreplay, baby. That’s like, the whole essence of a hookup.” Taehyun raises his eyebrows at you. “Would you just play along?”
“Fine, fine. I didn’t do mu—oh,” you gasp, as Taehyun’s lips latch onto your neck, pulling you into him. “Ah, fuck. I didn’t do much. I—I woke up early and did some assignments. Got a ninety percent on my mock exams.”
“Woah,” Taehyun says, pulling away. His eyes are bright. “Really?”
“Yeah. All of them.”
“Damn. Good job. Sometimes I forget you’re smart and hot,” he murmurs in between kisses. “Perfect girl.”
Holy shit. “Um—and then I went to the gym and this guy asked me for my number,” you continue. Taehyun licks at your throat and bites down hard. “Ow, fuck you. I said no thanks and then went back home and showered.”
“Did you do anything in the shower?”
You scoff as he licks along your jaw. “No. I’m not a perv like you.”
“Not a good idea to make fun of the guy who’s about to fuck you.”
“Sorry. Can’t help it.”
“And then what?”
“And then I had breakfast with you and after, I
 I fucked myself a little.” Taehyun groans and your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought of you.”
He chuckles. “I would have been a little confused if you hadn’t. You must have been so pent up, baby, huh?”
You grab a fistful of his hair and pulls him away from your neck so your eyes meet. “I’ve been thinking of you. For a long time. Even before you made the offer,” you say, barely breathing. Your grip loosens, and you watch as his eyes grow dark. “Anytime I got h-horny, I—I imagined you. And I
 was going to buy the toy ’cause I never thought I’d get the real thing with you.”
Taehyun seems taken aback, but his face of faint surprise melts into his usual cocky smile and he presses his lips against yours.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the real thing is a little bigger than five inches, baby.”
If you weren’t wet before, you’re drenched now. You feel a little bad for his grey sweatpants, the front all smeared with your precum. But knowing Taehyun, he’d probably like that.
You continue kissing for a while, Taehyun’s gaming chair creaking incessantly underneath your weight, but you’re too turned on to be bothered. He’s still playing with your panties, rubbing you over them. You honestly, truly might die.
“Taehyun,” you say, pulling away. He looks like a mess, lipgloss smeared all over his mouth, hair messy from your constant running your hands through them. “Can you touch me?”
“I am touching you, baby.”
You whine. “No, no, like—like inside me, please, fuck.”
“Use your pretty voice to ask me nicely.”
You take a deep breath but it’s let out as a whimper. “Please, Taehyun. Fuck me with your fingers,” you mumble, burying your face in his neck. “Please, please. Please.”
“Good job, princess. Of course. Anything you want.”
And you—you almost die, and it shows with the way you squeezes your thighs together and nuzzle your face deeper into his shoulder, letting out a soft moan when he finally moves to comply.
Taehyun seems to notice, because something in his eyes shifts and he leans in, kissing your cheek. “Do you like it when I praise you, baby? Come on, tell me everything. Tell me what turns you on. Want to make you feel good.”
“I like praise, yeah,” you say, your voice trembling as he moves his hands down to the hem of your panties. “Praise and
 And some degradation, too, but mostly praise. I like pet names and—fuck—biting and spanking and k-kissing, fuck, even just kissing turns me on so much.”
“I can tell, baby.” Taehyun glides a finger over your cunt and smiles. “You’re fucking soaked. So cuuute.” He coos it, like you’re some sort of cute doll and not his fucking roommate whose pussy he’s playing with.
It makes you whimper, your fingers shaking where they should be holding onto Taehyun’s shoulders. “Ugh, fuck,” you squeak. “Fuck you.”
“Let me do it first. Grind down on me, pretty.”
You comply and gasp a little at the hardness underneath you. “Fuck. You’re so—”
Taehyun hums, his hands moving to your waist, helping you rock harder against him. “Just for you. I’ve been hard all day just thinking about you.”
You make a pathetic sound at the back of your throat and kiss him, your mind suddenly flooded with images of him touching himself right here in his chair, the slick sound of his hand wrapped around his cock, all while he thinks of you. Without warning, he reaches up his free hand and lightly taps at your cheek; you don’t even have to think about it before your mouth falls open and his fingers slide in.
“Perfect,” Taehyun breathes, and your heart skips in your chest. “You’re so good, fuck. Didn’t even have to ask, what a good girl.”
You grind down harder. Taehyun throws his head back and lets out something between a sigh and a groan. “Fuck, princess,” he rasps. “You’re so cute.” He reaches up with his other hand to caress your flushed face. “You feel really—ugh—really fucking good.”
“Oh my god, wait, fuck, wait—” You whimper around his fingers and slow to a stop; your hands clutch at the back of his hoodie. You whine into the cloth, breathing him in, feeling him all over you. His hands move down to your waist, squeezing gently. You can hardly breathe. “I
 I was getting close. I don’t wanna come yet.”
Taehyun shifts a little under you; you huff when his hands slide under your ass and he moves to stand up, lifting you with him. “Let’s move to the bed, then,” he grunts, and your legs close around his waist as he carries the both of you to his bed.
He preoccupies himself by kissing you—your lips don’t move away from each other’s as you tumble onto the mattress. Your mind is racing. You’ve imagined kissing Taehyun so many times before, fantasized about how it felt, and these past few days it was all you could think about. His lips are so warm, his hands even warmer where they wander on your skin. You want him close, closer. Inside.
You break the kiss. “Taehyun,” you murmur against his lips. “Taehyun, please.”
Thankfully, Taehyun seems to understand what you’re getting at, and doesn’t make you beg for it—he’s shimmied out of his sweats and hoodie in record time, with only boxers and a wife beater left. He smiles down at you, gentle, loving. “Could you undress for me?”
You don’t need to be asked twice. You pull your dolphin shorts down and kick them off your ankles, trying your best to peel off your shirt as you do so. Taehyun is fully shirtless now, shadows cast across his toned muscles, and his hands probe at his boxers, but his eyes are fixed on you.
You have never felt so exposed wearing your favorite set of lingerie—you fight the urge to cover your stomach with your arms and instead opt to look up at Taehyun from under your lashes and hope he’s as horny as you are right now.
It takes a moment for Taehyun to recollect himself, but when he does, his hands are immediately on you, awed at your softness. “Damn,” he breathes.
“How eloquent of you.”
Taehyun laughs, running his hands down your waist. “No, I—” He breathes out another chuckle, his eyes trailing down to your belly. “No, you’re just perfect.”
Your cheeks heat and you feel yourself throb a little at his praise. “Says you. Know how many guys would kill to have your body?”
“Know how many guys would kill to have such a beautiful, sexy, smart girl like you?”
You press your lips together. You can’t help but think about how nice he looks, seated between your legs. “A lot of guys would be after you, it seems.”
“Can’t blame them. Fuck, your thighs,” Taehyun groans, moving his hands over them. Your breath catches in your throat. His hands look—are—huge. “Oh my fucking god. Promise me you’ll let me eat you out.”
You blink. “Of course,” you say. “Could you get to fucking me already?”
Taehyun laughs. “Right, sorry. Let me take my boxers off first.”
“Do you have a condom?”
“Yeah, it should be in the hoodie pocket.”
You retrieve the hoodie from the other side of the bed and feel around in its pocket before your fingers graze the plastic; you immediately pick it up and throw the hoodie on the floor. Meanwhile, Taehyun is finally fully naked and stroking himself; you turn even redder. Fuck, you want him so bad.
You tell him so. “Hurry, hurry, please,” you gasp, tossing the unopened condom packet to Taehyun, who chuckles.
“On your hands and knees, angel.”
You obey and whimper impatiently as Taehyun opens the condom and puts it on.
“Jesus, baby, you’re such a mess already and I haven’t even put it in,” Taehyun mumbles. You feel the bed dip where he climbs onto it again, and moans when he gives your ass a smack. “Needy. That’s what you are. Needy and impatient.”
You whimper. “Please, pleasepleaseplease, just put it in, put it in—” Taehyun pushes the small of your back so you drop face-first onto the mattress, cheek squished against the blankets. It smells like him. Everything smells like him. For once you fall silent when he announces he’s sliding in and you feels it poking at your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut.
He slides in the first inch and you can’t help but whine. “Pleeeease, Taehyun,” you gasp, your voice high and reedy. He complies without an answer, sliding in more, slowly, until he’s almost halfway. You let out a squeak.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyun coos. “Don’t think you can take it?”
You make a small, pathetic noise at the back of your throat. “Nonono,” you cry. “You’re just
 really big. Bigger than that—that dumb f-fucking dildo.”
“Aw, am I r-r-really?” Taehyun grins and eases another inch into you before you get the chance to retort. You suck in a breath instead, bunching the sheets into your hands. In a moment of guilt, he uses his other hand to give your waist a reassuring squeeze, then leans over to push back your hair for you. “Damn, you’re tight. You can take it, though, can’t you?”
You whimper. “Ah, shit, yes.”
“That’s it. There you go. Doing such a good fucking job, taking my cock.”
Taehyun kisses your shoulder as he slides in the rest, a string of pathetic whimpers and cries leaving your mouth as he bottoms out. Once his thighs touch the back of yours, he stays very still, letting you adjust to the size.
To both your surprise, you are the one who breaks the almost-silence with a short huff as you prop yourself on your elbows. “You
 you can move now,” you grit out, sounding almost pained.
Taehyun hums. “Tell me first. Which do you like better? The toy or my cock?”
You’re silent, but he can see your knuckles whitening as you grip the bedsheets. Taehyun scoffs and grabs both your arms with his hand, pulling them behind you with a grunt. You yelp as his cock hits a different angle inside of you.
“Tell me. Which one is better? I won’t move until you tell me.”
You whimper for a few moments, but Taehyun doesn’t let up. You take a shaky breath and let your head hang. “Y-you,” you mumble.
“Louder, pretty.”
“I like your cock better—hmf—better than the toy,” you say. Taehyun can hear the tears in your voice and his belly flip-flops. So fucking hot.
He might have said that out loud—you might have heard him—but he doesn’t have time to think about the possibilities, because at once he’s drawing his hips away from yours and slamming back inside again. The reaction is immediate. You keen, chest heaving at the intensity. 
“Fuck,” you croak, clinging onto the bedsheets.
“God,” Taehyun breathes, holding you up to his chest, “I’m obsessed with you.” He mouths at your neck and you whimper.
“Don’t bite too hard,” you plead. Taehyun bites down harder in response.
“I’ll bite as hard as I want,” he says, but there’s no heat in his words, and he presses a kiss to your shoulder right after. His hands snake up your body, from your hips to your waist until they stop comfortably at your tummy. He thrusts in and out of you at a steady pace, kissing mindlessly at any sliver of skin he can get his lips on. “Been dreaming about this for ages, you know. I’ve been wanting to fill you up for the longest time.”
Fire stirs within the pit of your stomach at the thought. “I do, too. Fingered myself thinking it was your cock,” you mumble back, delirious, and you can feel him smile against your shoulderblades. Suddenly, he slides out, flips you over and enters you once more in a single swift movement. His pace picks up and you exhale slowly, melting into the pleasure, your eyes trained on the array of faces he’s making above you.
“You’re perfect, angel.” Taehyun’s voice drops into a murmur, his bangs falling perfectly around his face. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you, baby. Not only because you’re really hot, but”—he lets out a moan here—“also ’cause I really, really like you, and I don’t wanna fuck the shit out of you for no reason, I—I also wanna take you on dates, and—” He pauses and groans when you squeeze down on him, eyes twisting shut. “Ah, shit, and I wanna fuck you not as a one time thing, but—fuck, but as like, a boyfriend thing—mm—you know?”
You let out a moan, your eyes cracking open incredulously. “You’re telling me this now?” you pant.
Taehyun laughs but goes even faster, his hands still tight around the softness of your waist. You cry out and latch onto his strong arms, wondering if this is happening, if this is real, if Taehyun really just confessed to you in the middle of rearranging your guts. You can’t believe this. Your heart flutters. Your pussy throbs. God, what is wrong with him?
Taehyun’s hand moves up to your jaw. He tilts your chin up and presses your lips together in a slow, slow kiss. “Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous. Shit,” he says, kissing you again and again. He looks almost desperate, moving inside you, his entire face flushed red. “I love kissing you. Such a pretty girl, my baby, aren’t you? I—oh, fuck, you feel so good, I like you so much.”
“Shit,” you mewl, reaching up to cup his face. He kisses the corner of your mouth, moving almost desperately now, moaning loudly against your skin. “Fuck, Taehyun, you’re crazy—fuck—”
“Tell me how beautiful you are,” Taehyun rasps, not sounding like himself at all, but he moves his hips impossibly faster, and his hand trails down to your neck. “Tell me how pretty you look while your pussy chokes this dick, fuck.”
You wail, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrists. “I’m—’m a puh-pretty girl, fuck, ’m so pretty—”
“That’s right, princess. Are you close? You wanna come?” he rasps, reaching down now to rub your clit. “Go ahead, baby, come on my cock, please, fuck, come on—”
“Taehyun,” you gasp, your breath hitching, as you feel the waves of your oncoming orgasm. 
“—cream on it, sweet girl, make me proud, wanna feel you coming for me, ’cause of me—”
You cry out from underneath him and you jolt so suddenly it startles him; your back arches off the bed and your thighs clamp around him and you go very, very still. You come for a long time, breathing and whining throughout it; Taehyun keeps moving, easing you out of it, his hands rubbing and squeezing your waist until finally your muscles relax and you go slack, melting back into the mattress.
“That’s it, pretty, good job,” he murmurs, running feather-light touches up and down your torso. “Good job, princess, what a sweet girl.”
He slides out of you after a minute, and you make a noise; you crane your neck to watch as he peels off the condom. “Did you come?” you ask, your voice awfully quiet. He looks up at you and smiles.
“It’s fine, baby.”
You move to sit up. “No, no—”
“Angel, I’m good.”
“You’re still—”
“Shush.” Taehyun scoots closer to you, settling on his elbows between your legs. “I still want to taste you.”
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An hour later, you find yourselves lying in bed together. After making you come another time on his tongue and finally coming after the world’s best handjob, Taehyun had scooped you up and seated you in the bathtub, where you took turns washing each other’s hair and giggling deliriously about what had just happened. You smell overwhelmingly like his shitty male body wash, but you find it hard to care that much when he’s buried his face in the crook of your neck.
Seeing that your friendship was effectively ruined in the best way possible, you find it hard not to giggle a little, wrapped in his arms. Taehyun’s hands, sliding smooth and gentle across your torso, stop abruptly.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks, sounding affronted.
“You. You’re ridiculous.”
“What? I wasn’t even doing anything.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just ask me out on a date? As opposed to offering to fuck me. You came off a little strong with that, you know,” you mumble. “Now that I think about it, it was kind of a dick move.”
“Sorry,” Taehyun grumbles. “I’ve asked you out to dinner multiple times but you kept calling them friend dates so I gave up on that.”
“You were trying to flirt with me? I had no idea.”
“Clearly. That’s why I had to stop trying to make romantic advancements and just settled on asking to fuck you instead. The dildo was the perfect incentive.” His fingers move up to tangle in your hair. “I had—I have, like, the biggest, stupidest crush on you. It’s embarrassing.”
You smile. “Lucky you. I like you, too.”
He breathes out, presses his forehead to your shoulder. “Thank god. I was waiting for you to say it,” he says quietly. “We don’t have to talk about it now, though. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
“Fine with me. Why were you even looking at my Amazon wishlist, anyway?”
“Well.” Taehyun stills his hands and clears his throat. “I was trying
 to pick out
 a birthday gift for you.”
“A birthday gift?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god.”
“Don’t laugh.”
You start to laugh. “Oh my god,” you say again, in between giggles. “My birthday isn’t for another two months, dumbass.”
“I wanted to be prepared!” Taehyun protests, pinching lightly at your waist. “I told you, I have the biggest fucking crush on you. I was gonna give you a bunch of little gifts. And actually, I was planning to ask you to be my girlfriend. I was so excited, too. Asked the guys for help and everything. Soobin was going to hold up the sign. And Beomgyu was in charge of finding a nice place.”
You snort, twisting around to kiss him. “Sorry for laughing. You’re just an idiot sometimes,” you mumble, and kiss him again. “If it makes you feel better, I would have said yes. And anyway
 I kinda knew you liked me. The walls are very thin, you know.”
Taehyun tenses up behind you. “What?” he asks after a beat of silence.
“I hear you jacking off all the time. I’m sorry to break it to you. At least you sound pretty.”
Taehyun groans and presses his nose between your shoulderblades. “Fuck you,” he says, muffled.
You hum. “We’re even.”
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tyun: pussy so good i professed my undying love for her
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snowysosturn · 1 month ago
Text
Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 18
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale
Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo
Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?
Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of guns, shooting, mentions of shooting
Chris' POV
I ended up crashing at Nate’s place last night. After the chaos of the evening, there wasn’t a chance I was going back to my uncle’s. Nate had a guy who could handle the car, so we made a plan to have it fixed first thing in the morning. I barely slept. My head was spinning, replaying every second of what happened.
Y/n.
The way she didn’t even look at me when she got out of the car, it wasn’t just fear. It was something worse: disappointment. I couldn’t get it out of my head. As soon as I woke up, I grabbed my phone and sent her a text:
Hey. Just wanted to check on you. I know Its all so messed up, but I need to know you’re okay. Please talk to me.
I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting for those three dots that never came. I didn’t blame her, but it didn’t make it sting any less.
Nate was already up, tossing on a hoodie and grabbing his keys. “Car guy is gonna meet us at the docks. Vince wants to see us there anyway.”
“Vince?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
Nate nodded. “Yeah, something about last night. Probably wants to know why there’s heat on us now.”
Great. Vince wasn’t exactly the forgiving type, but it wasn’t like we had much of a choice. 
We headed out, Nate’s beat up Honda rattling as it cruised through the early morning streets. The docks were quiet at this hour, almost peaceful, if you didn’t know the kind of business that went down there.
As we turned onto the road leading to the docks, my stomach dropped.
A car passed us going the opposite direction, creeping just slow enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
A black sedan.
“Chris-”
“I see it” I cut Nate off, keeping my voice low. “Just keep driving. Don’t even look back.”
Nate tightened his grip on the wheel, muttering a curse under his breath. “You think it’s them?”
“Who else would it be? They’re probably snooping, trying to see what we’re up to.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t stop. We’ll tell Vince. He’ll sort it out” I said, my voice steady, but inside, my mind was racing.
What the hell were they doing this early? The docks weren’t exactly prime real estate for tourists or morning joggers. Whoever they were, they had no reason to be there unless it was for us.
We reached the lot near the warehouse, pulling in next to Vince’s black SUV. Nate killed the engine, and we both sat there for a moment, neither of us saying a word.
“You think they’re watching us?” Nate asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Probably” I admitted. “But we’ll let Vince handle it. That’s what he’s here for, right?”
Nate nodded, but the unease in his eyes mirrored my own. This wasn’t just about the car anymore or even the shots fired last night. This was bigger. And now, Vince was involved.
I pulled out my phone again, checking for a reply from Y/n. Nothing. My chest tightened.
“Let’s go” I said, opening the door and stepping into the crisp morning air. The docks might’ve been quiet, but the tension was anything but.
Vince was leaning casually against his black SUV, talking to Sully. Sully, who was Danny’s right hand man.
It still made no sense to me why Vince thought I could fill Danny’s shoes. Especially when there is people like Sully still around, who had been groomed for this life since day one, practically raised on Vince’s rules. 
Vince glanced up, his eyes cold and calculating, and motioned us over with a flick of his hand.
“I heard about last night” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Shooting in Longwood. That was your car, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “They got the back window. We weren’t hit, though.”
“And what kind of distraction did you have that you didn’t see it coming?” His gaze bore into me, cutting through whatever excuse I might’ve tried to muster.
“I wasn’t distracted” I said firmly. “I was doing a run. It happened when I was heading back to my car. I didn’t even have time to react.”
Vince studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And you’re sure it wasn’t you they were after?”
I hesitated, then shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think they thought Nate was in the car. We just saw the same sedan pulling out of here on the way in, they’re lurking, Vince. Everywhere.”
The mention of the car seemed to hit a nerve. Vince’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Sully, who gave him a slight nod, as if confirming something.
Before Vince could respond, the rumble of a tow truck cut through the silence. It pulled into the lot, heading straight for my busted car. Nate walked over to deal with the driver, giving directions to the warehouse, while I stayed behind with Vince.
“Looks like you’re making a habit of finding trouble,” Vince said, his tone lighter but still laced with an edge.
“Not by choice” I muttered, watching as the tow truck maneuvered my car out of the warehouse.
Vince stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve proven yourself to me, you know.”
I frowned, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“The other night. When we had an unknown on our turf, sniffing around. You handled it better than Danny would’ve.”
His words sank in, and I struggled to hide my disbelief. “I just did what I had to do” I said carefully.
“That’s the point” Vince replied. “You didn’t hesitate. Danny would’ve folded, made a scene. You didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to argue, to tell him I wasn’t cut out for this, but another part of me, the part that had survived in this life so far, knew better than to argue with Vince Moretti.
Nate walked back over, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Car’s sorted” he said. “He’ll have it ready in the next day or two.”
“Good,” Vince said, nodding. Then he turned his attention back to me. “Keep your head on straight, Chris. We’ll need it.”
I swallowed hard, nodding even though my stomach was in knots. As Vince and Sully walked off, Nate gave me a look.
“What the hell did he mean by that?” Nate asked.
I didn’t answer right away, my mind still spinning. “Nothing good” I muttered finally, staring at the empty street where the black sedan had been. “Nothing good.”
As Nate and I got back into his car, the weight of everything Vince said lingered. My head was pounding from the stress, and my chest felt tight thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t heard from her still, and it was killing me.
I pulled out my phone again as Nate began to drive.
Me: Y/n, I’m so sorry for what happened. Please, just let me know if you’re okay. I don’t expect you to want to talk to me right now, but I need to know you’re safe.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Nate asked, breaking the silence.
“Of course, I’m thinking about her” I snapped. “She was in the car when it got shot at. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
Nate’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I do. I’ve seen shit like this go down before. You’re not the first guy to have someone close to you caught in the crossfire. But you’ve gotta focus, Chris. Losing your head over this isn’t gonna fix anything.”
“I’m not losing my head” I muttered, though the edge in my voice betrayed me.
“What are you gonna do if she doesn’t answer?” Nate asked as he ordered his food.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice low. “I can’t just leave things like this.”
“She’ll come around” Nate said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “She just needs time.”
“Time doesn’t fix this” I muttered. “How do you fix something when you’ve dragged someone into a world they don’t belong in? And they could’ve been killed in the process. She shouldn’t have been there.”
“You tried to protect her” Nate offered. “She chose to come. That’s on her.”
“No” I said sharply. “It’s on me. I should’ve said no, Nate. I should’ve been smarter.”
He didn’t argue, which somehow made it worse.
When we got back to Nate’s place, I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, willing it to light up with her name. Every second that passed made the pit in my stomach grow deeper.
Finally, I sent another message.
Me: Y/n, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need to explain everything to you. Please. Just one chance to fix this.
I leaned back, running my hands through my hair, the guilt eating away at me. I had no idea if she’d even read my messages, let alone respond.
The silence in her almost built a rage in me, a rage I didn’t know how to contain. It wasn’t directed at her,I couldn’t blame her for shutting me out, but at Vince, at everyone in the gang, at the world, at the life I’d been roped into, at the situation that had unfolded last night.
I needed to see her, to speak to her, to hold her and know she was okay. Every minute of radio silence chipped away at my resolve, and the frustration boiling inside me threatened to spill over.
I stared at my phone, considering whether to call or just show up at her place. But I didn’t even know if she’d be home. It was nearing 11 am, and I didn’t want to make things worse by ambushing her.
“Wanna get McDonald’s breakfast?” Nate asked from the other side of the room, breaking me out of my spiral.
I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
He shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? You’re sitting there brooding, and I’m starving.”
I let out a sharp exhale, trying to let his nonchalance cool my temper. “Fine” I muttered, standing up. “Let’s go.”
We got in Nate’s car, and he started the engine, pulling out of the driveway. The ride was quiet, the tension in the air thick as I stared out the window, my mind racing.
Y/n’s POV
The morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in my curtains, warming the room in a way that felt cruel given the cold heaviness in my chest. I woke up with my heart pounding, the events of last night replaying in my mind like a relentless reel.
The shattering glass. The gunfire. Chris yelling my name.
I sat up in bed, rubbing my hands over my face as I tried to steady my breathing. My room, my sanctuary, felt suffocating this morning. The usual comfort I found in the soft sheets and familiar walls was absent.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, but I didn’t have the energy to look at it. I knew it was probably Chris, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him, not yet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face twisted in panic, his voice pleading to know if I was okay.
I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me was grateful we were alive, but the other part, the bigger part, was furious. Furious at him, at the situation, at myself for ever stepping into his world.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I sat there for a moment, staring at the floor. My limbs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by more than just exhaustion. I stood up slowly and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to see the treehouse outside. It had always been my escape, my safe haven, but even it felt tainted now.
I needed to move, to do something to shake off this feeling. Dragging my feet into the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, a clear reminder that I’d spent most of the night crying.
After changing into some sweats, I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, only able to hear the faint hum of the refrigerator. My parents weren’t home, thank God. I couldn’t handle their questions or concerns right now.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, but it tasted bitter, even with sugar. I left it on the counter and wandered into the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling a blanket over me. My phone buzzed again, and this time, I forced myself to look.
The tears came again, silent and unrelenting. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t. I cared about him too much. But caring about him meant being dragged into this nightmare, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to handle it.
I needed water. My throat was dry, my lips cracked from how much I had cried. I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a glass picking up the Brita pitcher from the counter. As I poured the water, my eyes caught on a note stuck to the fridge.
"Will be out for the day. Have a delivery of fabric samples coming, make sure you answer the door. Mom x"
I stared at the note for a moment. It was strange how mundane her words felt after everything that had happened. Still, it gave me a small sense of routine, a task to do, a reason to stay put. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere today, so answering the door was no problem.
I took a sip of water, letting the coolness soothe my raw throat. My mind wandered as I leaned against the counter, the events of last night still looping endlessly in my head. I felt so detached from reality, like I was floating somewhere between anger, fear, and heartbreak.
The sound of the doorbell jolted me out of my thoughts. My gaze flicked to the clock on the oven. That must be the delivery Mom mentioned. The timing was almost eerie, as if the universe was giving me a task to force me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I set the glass down and walked to the front door, tugging at the hem of my hoodie as I approached. I pulled the door open, expecting to see a courier with a box of fabric samples in hand.
But it wasn’t a delivery man.
It was Chris.
He stood there on the porch, looking a little worse for wear, a McDonald’s bag clutched in one hand, my moms delivery held in the other. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.
“Hey” he said finally, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. “I.. uh, I brought breakfast.”
I stared at him, frozen in place. Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face. Another part wanted to step outside and throw myself into his arms, no matter how much I wanted to be mad at him.
“Can I come in?” he asked, shifting nervously.
I hesitated, gripping the doorframe like it might ground me. “Why are you here, Chris?” My voice came out steadier than I felt, laced with the exhaustion I couldn’t hide.
“To talk” he said, glancing down at the bag in his hand. “And to make sure you eat something. I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to cook.”
His thoughtfulness made my chest tighten, and I hated how he always seemed to know me so well. I wanted to yell at him, to demand answers, to make him understand how much pain I was in. But instead, I stepped aside and let him in.
Chris walked into the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter. He was careful, almost like he was trying not to disrupt the fragile atmosphere between us.
“You didn’t answer my messages and I-” he said softly, his back still turned to me as he pulled two McMuffins and hash browns out of the bag.
“I didn’t know what to say.” I admitted, cutting him off, standing by the doorway, my arms crossed.
He turned to face me, leaning back against the counter. “And I get that. I do. But I couldn’t just leave things like this. I needed to see you, to talk to you. And.. to make sure you’re okay.”
I scoffed, the bitterness finally bubbling to the surface. “Okay? Chris, someone shot at us. At me. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”
His expression crumpled, and he looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I hate that you were there. I hate that you had to see any of that. If I could take it all back, I would. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “Well, congratulations, Chris. You succeeded. I’m not pushed away, I’m shoved. And now I don’t even know what to think anymore.”
He stepped closer, stopping when he was only a few feet away. “Y/n, please.. I know I’ve fucked up. But I need you to know that you’re the only thing keeping me sane in all of this. I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My emotions were tangled in a way I couldn’t unravel. Instead, I just stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out if I could trust his words, or if I was just fooling myself all over again.
Chris took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine for a sign that I’d let him continue. I stayed silent, arms crossed tightly across my chest as I leaned back against the counter. The weight of his words already felt heavy, and he hadn’t even said much yet.
“I never got to tell you this” he began, his voice low and measured, “but at Danny’s funeral.. someone tried to make a hit.”
My brows knitted together as I straightened up slightly. “What?”
“They were caught before they could do anything” he explained quickly, as if to reassure me, though his tone carried no reassurance at all. “It happened right when Nate was reading Danny’s eulogy. The guy had a gun on him, but he was spotted before anything could happen.”
I stared at him, my mind racing to connect the pieces. A hit at a funeral? While Nate was speaking?
Chris ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “And then last night, before I picked you up.. I was with Nate. I saw that car, the car, snooping around his house.”
“The black sedan?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded grimly. “Yeah. It was parked down his street, just sitting there. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then we saw it again at a gas station later.  Im assuming same car, same guys. They must’ve been tailing us, thinking it was still Nate in the car.”
The room felt like it was spinning. Everything about last night suddenly had a sharper edge, a deeper layer of terror I hadn’t fully realized in the moment. “You’re saying.. the shooting wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Nate?”
Chris nodded again, his jaw tightening. “I’m certain of it. They thought Nate was in the car, not you.”
The air seemed to thin as I processed his words. Anger bubbled up beneath my fear, mixing into a volatile storm. “So I was just collateral damage?”
“No!” Chris said firmly, stepping closer, his hands reaching for mine, though I didn’t uncross my arms. “You were never supposed to be involved, Y/n. I never wanted you anywhere near this. I-I don't even want Nate near it anymore, but he’s-” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “He’s in too deep. He’s too stubborn.”
“So are you” I shot back, my voice cracking with emotion.
Chris flinched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked at me with an expression that was equal parts guilt and desperation. “I know. And I’m trying to figure out a way out. But this.. this isn’t just about me anymore, Y/n. It’s about Nate. And now it’s about you too.”
I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t sign up for any of it.”
“I know” he said softly, his shoulders slumping. “And I’m so sorry. For all of it. For dragging you into something you should’ve never been a part of.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of my shaky breaths. I looked at Chris, trying to decide if I could trust him to keep me safe, or if staying anywhere near him was the worst decision I could make.
“You need to fix this,” I said finally, my voice steady but cold. “You need to figure out a way to get Nate out, to get yourself out. Because I can’t live like this, Chris. I won’t.”
Chris stared at me, his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the weight of my ultimatum crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
“And I mean it, Chris,” I said, my voice sharper now, unwavering. “You do it. Today. I’m not waiting any longer. It’s either your Allies or your Affiliates. You decide which one you want.
His head dropped, and he let out a breath, running his hands over his face. “Y/n..” he started, but I cut him off.
“No. No excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out’ You make a choice. Right now.” My chest was heaving as I spoke, the adrenaline surging through me making my words come out faster than I could think. “Because if you can’t.. then I can’t stay, Chris. I can’t keep doing this.”
His hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped closer, his voice quieter but laced with urgency. “You think I don’t want out? You think I’m happy living like this? Every second I’m in this life, I’m looking for a way out. For Nate. For me. For you.”
“Then do it!” I snapped, the frustration bubbling over. “Stop talking about it like it’s some impossible task and just.. do it. You’re Chris. You’re smart. You’re resourceful. You can figure this out if you really want to.”
Chris stared at me, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it. I’ll make the call. Today.”
I nodded, my arms still crossed, my heart still pounding. “Good. Because this is it, Chris. No more excuses. No more waiting. It’s either me or them.”
He didn’t respond right away, just stood there, looking at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. “I’ll fix this” he said again, his tone steadier now. “For you. For us.”
I wanted to believe him. For the first time in a long time, I needed to believe him. Because if he didn’t.. I wasn’t sure I could take much more.
Chris’ POV
I held her gaze, searching for any sign that she might doubt me. She didn’t speak, but the way her eyes softened told me she wanted to believe what I’d said. “By tonight, I’ll be out of this. I promise you, Y/n.” My voice was firm, but inside, I felt like I was balancing on the edge of a knife. Making promises to her was easy, but keeping them while dealing with Vince? That was going to take everything I had.
Still, right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was her, safe, here, in front of me. I pulled her into a tight hug, never wanting to let her go. We slightly swayed side to side before pulling back from each other. 
I got you hash browns, a sausage McMuffin, and an iced latte. Thought you might need something good after the night you’ve had.”
She blinked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the exhaustion on her face. “Thanks” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, watching her closely. “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Barely” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear.
I nodded, concern creeping into my chest. “You need to rest, Y/n. How about this: eat breakfast in bed, and then sleep for the rest of the day. I’ll stay with you.”
Her lips parted like she was about to protest, but then she seemed to reconsider. The guarded tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “That actually.. sounds nice” she murmured, surprising me.
“Good” I said, relief washing over me. I grabbed the bag and her drink, gesturing toward the stairs. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
We made our way upstairs, the silence between us thick but somehow comforting. Once in her room, she climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged as I handed her the iced latte. She took a sip, her eyes momentarily lighting up with gratitude, though the tiredness still weighed heavily on her.
I sat next to her, unwrapping her food and placing it on the nightstand within reach. She ate slowly, the quiet between us filled only with the occasional rustle of the wrappers. I didn’t push her to talk, sensing she needed this, just the simplicity of being here, without questions or demands.
When she was done, she set the wrapper aside and shifted closer to me, leaning into my side. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I instinctively wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. I could feel the tension in her body begin to melt away, little by little.
After a moment, I broke the silence. “I need to send Vince a message” I said quietly.
She tensed slightly against me, her fingers stopping their absent-minded tracing on my arm. “What are you going to say?”
“I’ll tell him we need to meet later. I’ll let him know I’m done. Finished with all of it” I said, my voice steady.
She exhaled slowly, relaxing again. Her fingers resumed their soft movements against my skin. “Thank you.. for taking me seriously” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, Chris. Or the thought of you losing Nate.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting her warmth ground me. “You won’t lose me. I promise you that.”
She nestled closer, and I could feel her breathing start to even out. The quiet of the room was almost deafening, broken only by the faint sound of her sipping the last of her latte.
As she drifted off, I stayed still, my thoughts spinning. The weight of what I had to do pressed down on me like a vice. Tonight, I’d face Vince and make good on my promise to her. There’d be no more runs, no more deals, no more looking over my shoulder. But leaving Vince wouldn’t be easy, and I knew the risks better than anyone.
Still, for her, for us, I’d risk everything. She deserved a life without fear, without chaos, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her.
When her breathing steadied, I carefully reached for my phone, typing out a message to Vince.
Me: Need to meet later tonight. Got something to tell you.
I stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send. The message was short and to the point, and I knew it would raise questions. But that didn’t matter now.
Y/n shifted slightly against me, and I tightened my arm around her. For the first time in a long time, I felt something like hope – a fragile, flickering thing, but it was there.
As I sat there, holding her, I made a silent vow. By tonight, I’d be out of this life for good. Whatever it took.
a/n: im going to keep my mouth shut here so i dont give spoliers
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ivys-garden · 1 month ago
Text
Life Series Recap: session 6.
Hey mcytblr. How are you keeping?
Well I've had Insomnia and accidentally ate half a loath of stale bread so let's distract ourselves from it all with some nice life series stuff, eh?
Todays wild card was
 OK so like, this is probably the weirdest one (and also probably my least favourite but that's a me issue)
So like
 every animal dies. Then new ones spawn. Then they become something random
 wat
Now despite what the random signs that keep suspiciously appearing around grian say, thus isn't actually TOO dangerous. But hey that just leaves more room for these Theatre kids to drama it up in this messy soap opera of a series
So, without further dillydallying, let's look at these fools
The Final Gals (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse, Bigb, Etho)
Billy is dead. So is Grian, probably. they've got like 20 reasons to kill that lil scamp now.
Today is a full on trap day it seems! Scott is once again enabling so everyone gets their murder hats on. Impulse traps the base with pitfalls, obviously taking inspiration from Mumbo.
Bigb also gets his traps on, killing skizz in revenge and killing lizzie for no reason. Ps are we ignoring that Jimmy almost called him a son of a bitch orrrrrrrr
Oh yes, Bigb and Etho are now officially full members, and now the Bigb is a hostile mob, we can trust him again!
I mean, not too weird, they've got a Cleo. A very big brained and Dastardly Cleo. They plan to trap the wheat field with bombs. Heck they convinced Tango and martyn it already was! They also managed to acquire a cheeky Villager, so bows of death may be making a comeback.
Speaking of bigb actually, he's like even more trust worthy. It's almost scary. He refuses to betray Pearl and instantly tattles on Scar AND when lizzie coms a knocking over I.pukse trying to kill her and Impulse blames him, he fully accepts guilt no questions asked! What was in his water today, are we sure this is the same guy?
Scott does some miscellaneous chores. He fully turned the tower into a cake, which yada yada two nickels. He also goes never raiding with Cleo and makes his once per session trip to go complement Jimmy in a totally jot fruity way, Promise. Ignore how it's only his parrot Scott tried to save from that Blaze that means nothing.
Now, Pearl. She is given the task by gem
To kill gem. So she and her new murder bestie Impulse get on they're cammel and get down to mischief. Starting with creepers!
They failed miserably with creepers. Gem is a very fast rat
They go for a raid!
The wild card kills it. Dam.
They go for a spawn egg trap + a cammel nap!
The session ends before they can pull it off God dam it.
Pearl also thinks complimenting gem will get her to like her again so take that as you will. I say, knowing full well how you fuckers will take it. I see you, and so does G O D.
Oh, Pearl also acquires a very special tool that I'll mention in Etho's bit, but needless to say he gives it to Impulse and provided he does bimbo his key binds
 again, he could come back from the dead

The Family (Gem, Joel, Etho)
Joel found a bloody trial chamber. what the devils. He looted that bitch so good.
Anyway
All the cows are dead.
Also, a new watchtower? Pog? No. Its hideous. Much like gems barn, which has become a real ship of Theseus.
Speaking of Gem, she invents new and exciting ways to hate Pearl! This week: forgetting that gem ripped her eye out!
Yeah no fair how did she forget that.
Anyway, as gem is fully insane she decides the only way Pearl can make it up to her is to (checks notes) Murder her. Yep. Now, if my friend murdered me I'd probably take that negatively, but not Gem. She's itching to 1v1 pearl. Shame that Pearl is actually being cautious and thinks that trapping her is more sensible (tho maybe she should 1v1 gem since Pearl sucks at making traps. Just saying)
Speaking of traps, Gem and Etho try to kill ren! For no reason! He's their friend! It doesn't work but like, what the hell guys!?
Gem also chose to give her life to skizz
. More on how that went at 11.
The Bamboozelers (Scar, Jimmy, Lizzie)
Oh the Bamboozelers. Where do we start?
The Bam Bunker of course! Scars off hand pipe dream was fully realised this session as Jimmy and Lizzie spend all session building they're super secret bunker!... Scott manages to bimbo his way in and Scar invites Etho in
 and it's not hidden at all
 but hey, bunker!
And just in time too, turns out living on an open grassy mountain with plants that limit mobility during a mob spawn wild card is a bad idea. Lizzie almost died to wither had Jimmy not killed her so as to not waste her life.
I mean he did waste her life by trying to kidnap an Iron Golem but, eh.
Now looking at pay offs for last sessions events, we get anticlimax! Jimmy tries to kill gem when she offers her help in murdering people and Lizzie finds out that Ender porters fail if you died after you set them up. Whoops!
Speaking of Lizzie failing, she blows up Martyn and Ethos tower! He was supposed to get Tango as requested by skizz, but he's too smart. Lucky that martyn isn't eh?
No, when Scar wasn't being ironically killed by vex in trial chambers, or trying to make Shulker boxes for Actually no reason, or ruining traps for people, he was
. Being gaslit into thinking evokers still dropped Totems by grian. He did come up with a good idea of egg farming, but unfortunately eggs were turned off it seems, guess no big brain Scar this session.
Also for some reason Scar tries to get people to kill Pearl. Pearl has done nothing to him, but I guess that fits Pearl overall, do nothing and forgive everyone and still people want to kill you.
Oh also shears is dead. :(
Renwood (Martyn, Ren)
Oh ren. He's having a time. He's trying to be polite and friendly and make a “zoo lake” and asks why he and Martyn aren't smooching.
But at every turn this man has his life threatened by his own allies, his animals die (INCLUDING THAT BLOODY HORSE NOOOOOOO) and his homie/probably husband is killing people! What's that about?.... The shot was sick tho.
Hey, He may now have no allies or food but
. At least the lake protected them?
Idk they're probably doomed.
Martyn has some strange happenings this session. He goes skateboarding on a camel for one. He is also back to calling people humpers God damn it.
He also does make up for knocking Skizz off his stupid bad incredibly dangerous bridge by trying to lure people into the danger zone for him, but this ends about as well as every other trap done by anyone. At least he helped Grian get
revenge

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Tango, Etho)
Firstly, Pancakes.
Secondly, etho doesn't know what Mt Saint Hellens is. You mean Yellowstone, Mr. Kakashi sir.
Anyway, on to things that are actually important, Bdubs finished his house!
Oh wait, I said things of importance.
Etho decides to make my life difficult by allying with 3 teams, all of which hate each other. So thanks for that, glad you died in that stupid trial chamber.
Etho ignores whatever stupid goals Leader Tango set out and instead focuses on the important thing of getting a Wolf army kitted out with armour and the less important thing of trying to get a shulker box to solve his inventory problem. That sir, is actually just a skill issue.
Now, Wardens. Where there be Wardens, there be a Tango to adopt them. Yep the Tuff Guys get a warden
 for about three seconds until it gets trapped and everyone tridents it to death. This is also when “The Suprise Tool” was acquired by Pearl, a TOTEM OF UNDYING. Yeah Impulse is effectively on green now thanks to that, Thanks Gri! Impy FTW
(Ps homework for y'all is to find out who got that last hit on the Warden)
Now, I seem to remember Tango doing something to skizz
 it resulted in grian taking revenge and bombing the hell out of the Tuff Towers and
Oh
Oh No, Skizzle

The Spanner (Grian)
Let's start with grian. He is MOURNING Mumbo, even though he got bloody atomised last session he still pretends he's here. He names an Iron Golem after him, who later kills Jimmy so hooray revenge! Go Bloop!
He also goes chamber busting and continues to be besties with Scar
 hey weren't they trying to kill each other not 2 sessions ago or
.
He also fixes the “Spider Nest” tnt launcher so skizz doesn't blow himself up, skizz also names the tower after Mumbo in his honour.
Oh Grian also forgot to activate the wild card for like 5 minutes. Silly Goose. Hey at least it got people nice and paranoid.
Now, Skizz. He starts of great, Bombing Gem. I mean gem let him and he lost the life like 10 seconds later but he did it! He then does the stupidest thing I've seen since Skynet and builds a rickety bridge to drop TNT on tango's head. He was asking for martyn to wind charge him off.
Skizz seems to be really focused on Tango, he did ask Jimmy, Bigb & Lizzie to kill him after all.
But, well
 Tango killed him. Did he thi k it would? No. But it did anyway. He tossed a wind charge up at Mumbo Tower and skizz fell. Grian didn't even have to watch to know what happened.
The Tuff Guys tried to make amends, but at that point it was too late. Also etho didn't help by talking to the wrong Grave like a Bimbo.
Grian then has a mental breakdown! And he does what people who have those in this series do and decides allying with Joel is a good idea somehow. He tries to replace the Spanners with the family. To pretend nothing happend.
It isn't working.
What will happen next? Who can say

Me. Tango is gone next session. Mark my bloody words
More importantly tho, JIMMY HAS HIS BEST PLACEMENT (not counting real life) WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! PHOENIX BLESSING IS REAL
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technovillain · 2 months ago
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*Imagine there's an anon ask from roughly a year ago here asking me to share "what campers I thought become Psychonauts/what each of them end up getting up to when they're older" here. Imagine it cuz it got deleted randomly. T_T
BACK ON MY PSYCHONAUTS KICK THAT MEANS ITS TIME TO ANSWER YEARS OLD ANON ASKS LET'S GO!!! I have better story ideas for some more than others here...but if you're curious abt what I've written abt any of them, I encourage you to pry, that way I can think abt it harder and develop them further :]
Putting them under the cut, cuz breaking them down will be Long.
Let me preempt this section with this thought: every former camper of Whispering Rock ( save for maybe a few bad eggs ) is offered a job to work for the Psychonauts agency once they're of employment age. That's what you get for going to Secret Government Agency Summer Camp as a kid. You get weird letters in the mail for life. But hey, nice job, maybe?? In addition to this, particularly talented campers with high psychic aptitude and teamwork skills are offered a shot at the Intern Program at the Motherlobe.
Razputin becomes the superstar agent he always dreamed of becoming. He would pick it anyways, but at this point it's almost like he wouldn't have a say, with the way that the organization has sort of relied on him since he was 10 years old. I think he learns the hard way how much doing field work, like actual danger situations not just inside someone's mind, can take a toll on you quickly. Eventually he ends up taking a break, a "sort of running away from it all" type hiatus from agent work to go back and work with his family's circus again. No matter what happens, he always ends up going back and forth between these two things. Completed the intern program and specializes in Clairvoyance (much to his dismay) and favors Blastokinesis in the field.
Lili ends up in a situation similar to Raz, what with being very tied up with the organization from a really young age (even younger for her). But she gets the bonus points of stress of "being a Zanotto working for the Psychonauts means you'll probably end up in some big important role someday...doesn't it?" I'd argue that Lili would fall into the realm of trying to keep her image spotless and becoming a real precision agent, getting really good in high-stakes crisis situations. Was an intern for longer than anybody else, and specializes in both Herbaphony and Pyrokinesis.
Dogen is a training field agent for a while but has a bad accident and basically goes into hiding... He goes through a really similar thing to Compton, but he isolates himself so much that he really starts to scare other people. He starts to search for a way to make himself "un-psychic" and this gets him accidentally involved with some dangerous forces who are looking for an 'in' to mess with the Psychonauts. He struggled his way through the intern program as a teen and maybe sort of didn't really graduate it. Obviously Blastokinesis is his speciality, but in the field he did his best to repress that entirely and was a Mental Shield assisting agent.
Bobby goes through a whole arc of recovery and finding out his family lore. It's worth mentioning that I hc Loboto to be his father, and he lived with his grandparents growing up, and eventually got kicked out of that house. With nowhere to go, the Psychonauts as an organization pretty much ended up raising him. It takes a whole psychic village to raise a horrible little child. He still can be a jerk but he's a good guy now... Did the intern program, begrudgingly, because he "had nothing better to do". Specializes in Blastokinesis and Pyrokinesis.
Crystal gets her life turned around with the help of psychic outreach programs in her young teen years. She was taken on as an agent for a while, but finds her passions lie with helping others. She ends up working at Psychoisolation, helping active agents to recover from the things they've seen. Does most of her work inside the minds of other psychics. Specializes in Mental Connection.
Kitty becomes the big breakout "spotlight" agent that everyone has heard about, even being well known in nonpsychic circles. She has a full blown Hollywood celebrity vibe, despite the fact that none of her coworkers act that way and (most) at the agency don't view her that way. She's still a messy person. She's very hot and cold, wishy-washy, does whatever she wants. Has a complex relationship with Razputin, and consequently, Lili too. Maintains a mostly unrequited facade of an "Agent Rivalry" between her and Elka Doom. Completed the intern program with flying colors. Specializes in Hypnosis/Confusion and Electrokinesis.
Elka becomes an agent. She's always on the verge of about six different breakdowns. She keeps her image mostly clean and mysterious to the outside observer. Despite living her life waiting for impending disaster she still tries to stay on the side of good. She becomes an iconic "write about her in the comics" agent with a difficult relationship to her psychic powers... Completed the intern program at a young age. Specializes in Precognition.
Vernon works under Adam Joseph Gette as Psychic historians for the agency for a while as part of his internship. Eventually he decides to branch out, getting really into photography and field research. He becomes fascinated with the Rhombus of Ruin and its tales of disappearance and mystery. He gets approved for a reconnaissance mission there with Elton Fir (and Benny Fideleo too...kinda.) Completed the intern program. Isn’t a regular field agent but works at the Motherlobe. Specializes in Astral Projection.
Elton never lets go of his sailor aesthetic, but he kind of has no choice, because Hydrokinesis and Zoolingualism (namely with fish) are his specialty. He still harbors feelings for Milka, despite things becoming...really complicated. Recently he's been working with his buddy Vernon in the depths of the Rhombus of Ruin, trying to uncover the mystery of the Psilirium there. He was never in the intern program, he worked in a shipyard until being offered a job from the Psychonauts. Being their marine mission specialist has really boosted his confidence.
Benny really thought his job working for the Psychonauts would be cooler. But he isn’t allowed to work in the field because he can’t get over his *ahem* panic reactions to danger. He failed every test he was given. He’s just a chicken. So much to his dismay, he has to stay back at base. Behind a desk. Watching blips on a screen in the Nerve Center. Blahhh. There aren’t a lot of transmissions to come back from the dead radio zone of the Rhombus, but when they come through?? He’ll be ready. Flunked out of the intern program. Doesn’t get to use his psychic powers much, except using TK to mess with people when he’s bored.
Mikhail ditched Maloof. And he was probably the only one to ever do that and live to tell the tale. Went back home for a while, but came back and did the intern program when he was a little older. Specializes in Telekinesis but now has a special Zoolingualism tie to bears. He's a good guy agent, sure. But he absolutely will Sic The Bears On You.
Franke never grew out of her “yes-man” tendencies. In fact, it could be said that she leaned into them tenfold. She has taken it upon herself to work as an “assistant” to the superstar agents, doing physical, emotional, and my god janitorial duties for them. She focuses mainly on Kitty and Elka, but she’ll suck up to anyone. Lili wishes she would hit the bricks. Franke doesn’t use her powers often on account of having something Ford dubbed “psitanium sickness” flareups on the regular. Basically, her brain accumulates a lot of psitanium, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t have the firepower to dish it back out as psychic energy. So it builds up in her head. Gives her freaky purple eyes. So routinely, agents will go into her brain to farm psitanium. And she loves it.
Clem, after drifting apart from Crystal, kind of just fell to pieces. Home life was not good, so the job offer from the Psychonauts was refreshing. But what is Clem’s job exactly?? Does anybody know? Does moping ominously in the Quarry and making everyone really anxious count as a job? Does talking to a very very old woman in the Gulch about having an identity crisis count as a career? Who’s to say! “Specializes” in Mental Projection.
J.T. becomes the new groundskeeper at Whispering Rock. Never was in the intern program, was offered an office job. Worked it for all of 2 months before he felt crazy. You can’t put this cowboy indoors. He’s a much better groundskeeper than Ford was. He actually prioritizes keeping the kids safe, and they all love him. Hangs out with Mikhail every now and then when he comes to help tame psychic forest animals, and the two get very nostalgic about their summer camp days. Specializes in Levitation.
Maloof becomes a psychic crime boss. Obviously. His mother has a lot of sway over what he does. He has a serious man-child thing going on, so he doesn’t act a whole lot differently than he did as a little kid. Which only makes him more freaky. He holds a lot of grudges against the people who feared and doubted him as a child. Specializes in Mental Projection.
Milka’s bouts of invisibility got worse as her home life soured even more. As a teenager, she tried to join the intern program and better herself, but she developed a real problem with running away from things that were good for her. She dated Elton again as a teen, but ran away from him. She ran away from the Psychonauts as a whole. Simply disappearing into the wind, extremely hard to track. Everyone worries about her. Nobody knows exactly where she is. Some are convinced she actually disappeared somewhere and didn’t just go invisible, as nobody can even track her mental footprint anymore... Specializes in Invisibility.
Chloe is doing her own thing. There are a number of agents who were given the task of “keeping an eye on Chloe Barge” to make sure she doesn’t become some sort of large scale threat or something. But nobody ever really knows what she’s up to. It’s probably got something to do with aliens. And psychic activity. But what the heck is it?? Never joined the intern program, but visited the Motherlobe a couple of times as a teen to use the psychoisolation facilities. Specializes in Photokinesis.
Chops drifted away from the whole psychic scene and got into homeopathic medicine. Keeps his powers on the down-low, and uses them behind people’s backs. Maybe a little shady for blending his light psychic knowledge with plant knowledge and branding it as ‘medicine’, but he means well. There just isn’t a lot of interest in psychics from the Canadian government, so he’s leaving it alone for now.
Phoebe is still working on her music career, and has become a relatively successful indie rock star. Quentin never was taking it seriously enough for her, so they moved on. She was offered a lot of gigs from Morris, but is trying to make it “in the regular world” and declined most of them. She struggles to keep her Pyrokinesis in check still, and it heightens her anxiety on the road, only making it more likely for flareups to happen. Her band members know that she’s psychic, but she doesn’t want to tell anyone else. She calls Lili a lot and she helps Phoebe learn to control her Pyro.
Quentin is running a little farm in Green Needle Gulch. His produce and *ahem* herbs are loved by all sorts of Psychic clientele. He really isn’t interested in any of the agent stuff, or paperwork stuff, he’s just kinda...zooted, idk. Just chilling, and a lot of the more uptight government types in the organization cannot stand that he’s allowed to hang around the gulch.
Nils went to prison on multiple accounts of stalking. He’s still in there. I don’t think anyone misses him, but I’m sure there’s a few people who worry about him getting out. Sort of a looming “it’s only a matter of time before he breaks out and becomes a huge threat” villain. Specializes in Cryokinesis.
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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year ago
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Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...
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Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.
I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)
Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!
(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)
☆.。.:ăƒ»Â°â˜†.。.:・°
Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.
You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.
'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!â€ïžđŸ„° just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! đŸ€žâŒ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! đŸ»đŸ˜˜'
Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.
The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.
So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.
The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.
When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.
Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.
Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 
Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.
And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.
With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.
This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.
This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.
Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.
He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.
'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.
'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'
'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.
'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.
He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.
But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.
'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'
'Told you what?'
'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'
For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.
'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'
'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'
The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.
And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.
Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.
That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.
He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.
He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.
But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!
Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.
Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.
You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.
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anantaru · 9 months ago
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so guys đŸ™‹đŸ»â€â™€ïžđŸŒž i have finished the entire new quest at last and omg đŸ‘ŒđŸŒ like this was outstanding!! you see, what i really enjoy about star rail is that it gives me similar vibes to hi3 in terms of the darkness in the plot, since hi3 is my favorite hoyo game i always love seeing stuff from it or just similar instances. SO YOU KNOW FOR A FACT I WAS SO HYPED WHEN ACHERON SHOWED UP đŸ€ș especially with the hi3 story with kiana as the mc being over and although i still love hi3 the most, kiana, mei and bronya, that trio, they were all the best characters together AAAARGHHH I SWEAR AND JUST THE ENTIRE STORY LINE WAS SOOO GOOD, I miss them all together as a trio and especially kiana, the best hoyo MC FOR LIFE. đŸ™‹đŸ»â€â™€ïžđŸ©·
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also đŸ€  ^^ that frame with sunday and dr ratio like 😙😙 WAS SO FUNNY I HAD TO SS IT. đŸ€ș
the amount of cutscenes we got to see again was so fun, it felt like watching a movie slowly unfold while you got to be a part of it đŸ©· you can tell that hoyoverse gets better and better with each update on whatever game and that the cutscenes are always so well done (i always liked them but the constant upgrades ??? insane) đŸ™đŸ»
+ the acheron one shotting aventurine lmao đŸ§ŽđŸ»â€â™€ïž it was my favorite though ngl HAHA đŸ™‹đŸ»â€â™€ïžđŸ©· no matter how much i like aventurine as a character, MEI OMG MEEEIIIIII đŸ‘čđŸ©· SHE WILL FOREVER BE MY LOVE LIKE I KNOW ITS ACHERON BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN !!!!! đŸ™‡đŸ»â€â™€ïž LIKE THE CUTSCENE WITH HER HORNS OH MY GOOOD THE NOSTALGIA LIKE YES GO OFF SHOW THEM
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also guys, idk but aventurine's boss fight, đŸ€  i personally expected more like it was so easy to beat ?! I THOUGHT I WOULD STRUGGLE BUT HE DIED PRETTY QUICKLY BUT ITS FINE, I STILL LIKE HIS CHARACTER đŸŒžđŸ™‹đŸ»â€â™€ïž. + i was happy hoyoverse showed us his backstory and took their time to flash it out and not gloss over it in idk one/two scenes, but they really took their time with it which was amazing đŸ©·
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also jade looks so cool as well! the design is very pretty and i can't wait to see diamond too, or the rest of the ten stonehearts but they're hyping diamond up so much like another emanator?? yes please, i'm all inđŸ§ŽđŸ»â€â™€ïžđŸ©·
this entire quest gave me movie vibes, you were on edge the entire time and even during side quests you had to take, it was still very intense. it actually took me quite a bit to finish it of course since i'm someone who doesn't skip dialog, but it was so worth it and the best way to relax after a long day of moving my body đŸ©· just laying in bed, playing while drinking tea!!
what i wanted to say too, guys honestly sunday is not okay HAHAHAHAHAHAH 🌝 I MEAN LIKE you guysđŸ§ŽđŸ»â€â™€ïž, that shiver in his voice at times and you can tell he low-key doesn't even know how to handle all of that either, of course, for one he looks like everything is accounted for while in the other, he sounds like he's losing his mind and can we blame him ???? when he went "why did you kill her" and lowkey cussed gallagher out i was like damn đŸ€  okay 😏 HAHA + i'm somebody that doesn't think too much about theories, instead i love eagerly waiting for the next patch!! so i'm excited for what's coming đŸ©· + robin's song slaps.
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last but not least đŸ€ș you see, gallagher wasn't really somebody i was very interested in, but damn the second he turned dangerous and spicy i went oh my oh hey what's up ?? 😏 giggles HAHA LIKE WHAT IS IT ABOUT MEN WHO ARE JUST SUDDENLY EVIL AND IDK MAYBE HE ISNT COMPLETELY RIGHT AAAAAA OOOOO UUUU WWWWW AAAAA but anyways, 🌾 the last cutscene low-key hurt me like what do you mean sunday gets off screened while i was saving up for him for what? đŸ‘č ever since fuxuan like how can you do this to me + no way they're dead dead đŸ€ because the last conversation aventurine had with acheron was very important to the next patch i'm pretty sure! đŸ©·
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all in all guys!! đŸ©· this quest was beautifully done, it had a lot of hard, dark stuff and it reminded me a lot of hi3, that's why i give it a 10/10, very well done. đŸŒžđŸ©·
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kyriathanatos · 2 years ago
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Are you and demilypyro dating
yeah, carbon dating, bitch! get in here we're learning about bones n shit!
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so this little guy is called the bone hydra! (His name is Lerny but we're getting all science-y in here so we gotta use the genus name)
it's a monster that can be found in Hades, specifically Asphodel, and it's got 5 heads. Each head has a different method of attack, and any one of the 5 can be selected as the main head you will fight when you encounter it. This only happens after you have bested it 3 times, however! so keep on your toes!
Once the other heads are able to spawn, they will do so during 2 separate support phases where the main head has become invulnerable to all damage and you must destroy each of the other heads to be able to harm the main one again. scary stuff!
Lets talk about those heads and their abilities!
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This little guy right here? This is the Yellow Variant. He's your standard bread and butter, but that doesn't mean he's a slouch! He's got access to the most abilities out of any of them. Being able to shoot a volley of fast moving projectiles, ground slam, and even summon other variants! You should not under estimate this little guy!
What about the other variants you ask? Well, lets go in order!
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The Orange Variant here shoots out magma ball spittles! be careful, they can burn you, as they leave temporary magma pools on the ground! he's able to make the arena extremely hectic, so don't slouch on him!
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Continuing on, this version is the White Blue Variant, Its horns remind me a bit of @demilypyro's actually! And just like her and her love of hammers, its got the ability to SLAM its big ol' head on the ground and do lots of AOE damage, and even make parts of the arena crumble away! dangerous... you'll have to move quickly against this one!
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And now you've to the Green Variant! Hey... those are my colors! and its a summoner too? talk about stealing my whole thing. Anyway, this one can throw out some little balls that can spawn some really dangerous enemies during the fight! You gotta take those out before they spawn, or it'll get even more hectic!
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And finally, we've got the Purple Variant, this funky little guy likes to shoot waves of long, slow moving projectiles at you! they're designed to trip you up and make you mess up with how intimidating they are, but as long as you face danger head on and dash directly through them, you're usually pretty safe!
anyway, that's just a bit of Hades based bone lore for you! Carbon dating is fun! I hope it helped! Soon you'll be getting that Titan's Blood from good ol' lerny here in no time. I believe in you! And I'm sure demily does too. :)
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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 1 month ago
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✹ New Patreon Upload! ✹
Hey everyone! I’ve just uploaded a brand-new mini-series on my Patreon, and you definitely don’t want to miss it!
Head over now to check it out and show some love! 🙌
📖 Link in bio! ✹ Let me know your thoughts after reading! 💬
Don't forget my Patreon is now available for $3 for the month of December; don't miss your chance to catch up on all the exclusive content before the month ends!
Offside Affairs (Part 2)
Masterlist
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You weren't supposed to fall for him. Neither was he.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian MbappĂ© x You
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 9.3k
Warnings! ANGST!! messy fwb relationship, Kylian is an asshole (try not to hate him) , FLUFF! you are Jude's adoptive sister, (decided to give a heavy into the angst today, tell me if you guys like it)
Preview
**********
The weight of your body against his was familiar—too familiar, maybe. It felt like slipping into an old hoodie that still smelled faintly of laundry soap and regret, a comfort you never quite allowed yourself to abandon.
His lips are soft, hesitant, teasing in the way that always made your heart race and your thoughts blur into a haze of want and vulnerability. The taste of him, the warmth of him, was intoxicating—dangerous—and yet, you leaned into it anyway.
You're in his apartment. The scent of cologne, faintly musky with a citrus edge, mingled with the stale aroma of takeout containers abandoned on the counter. Outside, the city hummed with its relentless life—cars honking, distant laughter, a siren wailing in the distance. But in here, it was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that made every breath and creak of the couch thunderous in your ears, a soundtrack to the unspoken tension simmering between you.
Your hands slid up to his neck, fingers curling into the soft strands of his hair. His low groan was almost imperceptible, but you felt it vibrate through him, a sound that rippled through your body and sent a shiver down your spine. It was a sound you’d memorized, one that never failed to unravel you.
“You always do this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The smirk that drove you mad, that left you chasing something you could never quite reach.
“Do what?” you asked, breathless, your words barely more than a whisper as you met his gaze. His dark eyes, always so guarded, locked onto yours, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something soft there. Vulnerability. Fear. Hope, maybe. Or maybe you were only seeing what you wanted to see.
“Make it impossible to think,” he said, his smirk faltering, replaced by something deeper, something that made your heart ache.
You laughed softly, the sound shaky even to your own ears, and kissed him again. You knew this dance—the push, the pull, the line you crossed and redrew so many times it had become a blurred mess. But tonight felt different. There was an undercurrent to it, a weight in the way your lips lingered on his, in the way your hands trembled just slightly against him. It was as though the air around you had shifted, thickened with words unspoken, truths too heavy to ignore.
“Kylian,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his. Your heart was pounding, each beat an echo of your mounting dread. You could barely catch your breath, could barely think beyond the storm raging inside you. “Can I say something?”
His body stiffened slightly beneath your touch, and you felt the hesitation ripple through him before he nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
You took a deep breath, your chest tight with nerves, and finally let the words escape. “I like you.”
*********
-BiancađŸŒ»
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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how do you think the keepers of 141 would be w/ insomniac / dsps pets?
DSPS = fancy medical way of saying nocturnal
broight to you by the fact i havent slept at all since 6-10 pm yestersay pls end my life
like poor guy is just, unable to settle down for the life of him. tried music, meditation, weighted blankets, everything, and he still just can't fall asleep so he gets up and starts wandering around. maybe he starts watching tv or a movie, maybe he makes a snack and reads, maybe he decides that now is the perfect time to do some time consuming task or clean every single inch of the house.
keeper wakes up to the sound of the pet accidentally knocking something to the ground, sees pet is gone, and freaks out. goes to living room and its just them staring at each other while the pet eats shredded cheese over the sink (straight from the bag).
on the other hand, the daytime eepiness.
it's barely twelve and poor thing can't keep his eyes open, falling asleep mid conversation, yawning with every word, seeming really distracted. he falls asleep mid - bath which is dangerous but he was just so warm and comfy! ): he can't help taking like fourteen million 10 minute naps per day. he's wandering around still in his jam jams and looks like he literally is asleep on his feet. eepy boy (:
Spiders. Hey spiders? Spiders, darling, I’m concerned. I have mild insomnia that’s managed with meds but oh my god??? And you ask me about water??? Jail for spiders.
Anyway
 a good ask.
This fits feral incredibly well. If it’s not canon that Simon is an insomniac for various reasons, it should be. So those two would be up doing chaotic shit together. Like, yes, feral is eating cheese straight from the bag, but Simon is brewing the strongest coffee in this hemisphere and they’re both chatting like it’s a weekend morning. I can see them getting lots of nap times together throughout the day. Ive said before (or at least agreed) that feral is cat-coded so this daytime napping business fits perfectly for him.
Johnny would be a menace, cooing over Shy Thing and trying to get him back into bed. Shy thing would go, wait until he’s snoring, and then creep out again to continue what he was doing. He’s less midnight cheese coded and more starting a lengthy project coded. Like, his whole bedroom needs rearranging, or the bookshelf needs to be reorganized - at 2am. But oh, Johnny would coo over his eepy boy. Dress him up in Johnny’s clothes and watch him shuffle around in too long sleeves, yawning if he sits down for too long, slumping into his shoulder in a nice patch of sunlight.
Good Boy spends all day napping on or against Price. His lap is his favorite spot, but he’ll settle for tucking up against his back too. Price tuts that he needs to stay awake, but poor baby boy just can’t. Price would also try to ~tire~ him out before bed. And while that may put him down for a three hour snooze, Good Boy will be creeping out of bed to watch old cartoons and sew/knit/crochet. Price usually wakes, scoops him up, and sets him in bed with headphones and a tablet.
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