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ineylesian · 8 months ago

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— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet.

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration.

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.”

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward.

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down.

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn��t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires.

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him.

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage.

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol.

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear.

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone.

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still.

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound.

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled.

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side.

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty.

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock.

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better.

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny.

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas.

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait.

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers.

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed.

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather.

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals.

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum.

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease.

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him.

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?”

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down.

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box.

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait.

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red.

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision.

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn.

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.”

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched.

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly.

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait.

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again.

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you.

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air.

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise.

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties.

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you.

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight.

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?”

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china.

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you.

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures.

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity.

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel.

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now.

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone.

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

#eleysiacalling #eleysiansighs #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail smut

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strangerstilinski · 3 months ago

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hiii my dear <333

would love if you could combine [heal] and [kiss] with steve 🫶

love u n have the bestest day

[HEAL] sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities. [KISS] the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.

Steve is bleeding. Again.

And why is it that Steve always seems to be fucking bleeding? If it's not a fistfight, it's inter-dimensional monsters. And if it's not monsters, it's foreign governments who hold no qualms against beating and torturing minimum-wage mall employees in the hopes that it might yield answers.

This isn't like any of those times. You know that. And yet, watching the slow trail of blood ooze from the gash at Steve's hairline, crimson dripping slow down his temple and smearing into his brow — It makes your stomach turn. Makes your knees wobble just slightly. The floor suddenly feeling decidedly unsteady beneath your feet.

You'd asked him to find a casserole dish and he'd practically crawled his way inside one of the lower kitchen cabinets in his search. Wide shoulders crowded into the space, his narrow waist on display as he reached even farther and prompted his shirt to ride up. Your eyes had been glued to the dimples at the base of his spine, objectifying gaze too stuck on the way his jeans pulled on his backside and thighs, the way the elastic waistband of his briefs cut into the softness of his hips-

He'd yelled triumphantly as he re-emerged, and you'd been too distracted to warn him to watch his head when he turned a bit too early and bashed against the edge of the opening with a resounding thunk.

You couldn't care less about cooking dinner, now. You're entirely too consumed with worry at the sight of the blood pouring from Steve's head. And, alright, pouring might be a bit dramatic. But your boyfriend is bleeding, and it's slightly your fault.

You push him from the kitchen and he drops dutifully into a chair when you give his shoulder a pointed shove. Both of your hands find their way to his face, warmth bleeding into your palms as you try to angle his head into the light a bit.

He only winces a little when you push his hair up out of the way so you can see where his skin is split. Your fingers tighten around his jaw, biting into his cheek as you turn his head this way and that in an attempt to get a better look. A frown pulls at your lips as you note the swelling that's already building into a sizable lump, and no sooner have your lips quirked downward when Steve's hands find the backs of your thighs.

"Hey, pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to be pouting, pouty." His hands tighten, dragging you forward until you're standing slotted between his legs.

Warm, honeyed brown eyes peer up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs in a comforting motion. The way he looks after you, even now, when he's the one who's injured — It sends your heart thrumming wildly.

You snatch some paper towel from the tabletop and dab at his head lightly, frown sinking further when blood immediately wells back up and begins to follow that same path down his forehead and into his eyebrow.

"It seems like it's bleeding a lot," You tell him, blotting at the growing egg on his head again, "I don't think it should be bleeding this much. Should it be bleeding this much?"

"It's a head wound, they bleed a lot." He shrugs, like it's no big deal.

You repeat his words back, mockingly, putting a little more pressure on the towel to his head. And then, "How much is 'a lot'?"

To your frustration, Steve just shrugs again, "I dunno, should stop in the next few minutes, I guess. If it does, we're good. If not, I guess I'm probably a goner-"

The pressure you're applying to the towel increases enough to have Steve wincing again, but you refuse to feel bad.

"That isn't funny." Your eyes drift as Steve's lower lip juts out, soft and plush and not even remotely portraying genuine apology. "Now who's pouting?" You grumble quietly.

"The guy who just came within an inch of braining himself to find your casserole dish, actually." Steve returns your snark all-too easily, "You know what'd really help, though?"

Your eyes narrow just slightly at the sweet edge to his voice, at the way his palms press with a little more intent into the backs of your legs. He's still looking up at you, lips quirked up now into that flirty grin of his, chin jutting out like he's expecting you to just bend down to kiss him already.

"What?" You ask, infuriatingly breathless in the wake of his touch, the gentle rumble of his voice.

"C'mere."

He pulls at your thighs again and you realize he's trying to get you to sit down. You smile softly, stepping back from between his legs and settling into place in his lap. Your thighs frame his hips, towel still pressed firmly to his head all the while.

"Better?" You ask, nosing at the space between his brows before placing a fleeting peck to his forehead.

Steve hums, "No, no, not quite. Think you could spare another kiss?"

"Oh, I suppose," You sigh woefully, like it's a big ask, though you both know it isn't. Your lips find the bridge of his nose, "Like this?"

Steve hums again, "Not quite. Little lower, honey."

You lean back just a bit to look at him, the way his eyes have clouded over with something like adoration. It still makes your head spin, that he looks at you like that-

Your thumb strokes his cheek, lips finding the tip of his nose and just staying there for a moment — waiting.

"Lower." He orders softly, his nose nudging up against you as he tips his chin up toward you.

Your lips brush his cupids bow, faint stubble scratching softly when you press the faintest kiss to his mouth. "Here?" You whisper against his lips, breath mingling warmly with his own, "Does this help?"

He knocks the bloodied paper towel from your hands and ignores your protests as he drags you back down for another kiss, this one deeper.

You're breathless when you pull back again, your eyes glued to the shine of spit on Steve's lips before your gaze flicks up to the drying blood at his hairline, the cut clotted and no longer bleeding.

"Hey, you stopped bleeding." You tell him, relieved.

"Yeah, that's great-" He says blankly, already sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you back in, "Now, c'mere-"

#this is actually a bit longer than intended (shocker!) Also i didn't proof this so if there are typos? no there aren't!#steve harrington #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington x reader #*#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff

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bunji-enthusiast · 10 months ago

Note

Heya again!! <333 as per tradition, before I put an order, I want to say ty for feeding the PP fandom and I hope you're doing well <333 may whatever you're planning to write, original or fandom, be successful!

May I order a blast in the past, where the Hour of Joy hasn't started, Caretaker! Reader is yet again an employee at Playtime Co. and they happened to find out about the rejected isle and they were overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness and charm of the toys, they do kinda get why some of them were rejected but thought mostly they were fine.

For the sake of the plot, they got to keep the toys and bring them home with permission from the higher ups ( wow reader charisma 💯 ). As they're happily making their way back, Catnap noticed them carrying this unknown toy, giving it affection, and overall just showering it with love from the shadows and gets quite pouty about it. So much so that the rest of the smiling critters had to pry it out of him to tell them what he saw and oh boy, they too were quite pouty.

Dogday tries to reassure them that everything's alright and they agreed to " ask " more like interrogating the reader the next time they come in to work. When that happens, Reader is caught red-handed still giving that rejected toy their love and affection, Dogday sends the rest of the group off so he and Catnap could talk it out with Reader more privately. Ends with them getting the full story and the smiling critters getting their fair share of love and affection, especially Catnap who's by the way still pouting about the whole ordeal 😂

I really just wanna see this sleepy cat having someone else he could actually trust as a parent figure and him just getting worried that his place might be taken away by some rejected toy 🥹 ahhh I'm starting to love him more and more slowly,, the Smiling Critters are such babies and I love themmmm

Signs Of Love

Note || yesss insomnia kitty needs love, all of em need love 💕

WC || 1,931

Sypnosis || Misunderstandings occur, but as quickly as they come, they can also very much leave.

You were quite the lover of many things, having been assigned to be a caretaker when your superiors saw how well you integrated yourself into the role at your interview. They are quite fond of you and all their other caretakers, since they know you all (you and the rest of the caretakers) are the only ones able to keep all the toys and children in line.

Though the children were mostly left to the Playcare Attendants as the caretakers were more or less focused on the toys themselves. It was without a hint of a doubt, you certainly had garnered the attention of many toys. Some who liked you, though it really was the Smiling Critters who liked you more than most.

Yet when you found out about the rejected toys, you thought it was really saddening that they were even rejected in the first place – though you understood why – you just wanted to simply take them home with you!

Deciding to try and convince a higher-up to take one home, that is exactly what you did.

“Ma’am, please look at this adorable potato!” You held up the rejected toy in your hands, clearly enough for your superior who shrunk back in surprise against her recliner chair. She let out an exasperated sigh, recollecting herself as she adjusted her position on the seat.

“I am well aware,” She begins, gesturing to the rejected toy. “But by no means are you allowed to take it home, rejected or not–it is still company property.”

You frown as you search your mind for conceivable reasoning to convince your superior, you sigh as the toy falls out of your hands, landing on your lap. “W-well, maybe I could keep it for a little while?” You jump up, your hands landing straightforwardly on her desk. “Like a-a security precaution!”

A frown adorns her face in return to your earlier one, crossing her arms across the top of the desk as gently as she possibly could. Appearing to be searching your face for any lying or incompetence, her shoulders slump in defeat. “Very well, if you insist.”

“Keep it.”

You let out a yelp of success, almost falling backward as you did so. You grin, an exasperated noise leaving your throat as you cautiously upright yourself, as to not uproot or accidentally change her mind in turn. Your hands make their way to your superiors, shaking them to be polite. “Thank you thank you! You won’t regret this.” You smile at her, then let go of her hand as she is left in befuddlement by the actions that had just happened.

Normally you weren’t much of an extroverted person, only conversing and confronting social situations when necessary. But you had simply felt joy bursting through your veins at the accomplishment you had achieved, to convince a superior to let you keep the rejected toy! (One of the rejected toys at least, you couldn’t do much else for the rest as much as you wanted too) Now you were making your way back, rejected toy in hand and you had a lot of affection to give it.

Too bad it wasn’t alive as much as the other toys you knew were, but at least it was alive in your own heart.

A familiar figure in the distance resting on a rooftop had taken notice of this quite easily, may it be quite the discovery they had found. CatNap couldn’t let this go unnoticed, a strange pang resided in the depths of his hollow yet dense chest. The giant cat couldn’t pinpoint the feeling he felt, not knowing what name to put to the feeling he felt so strongly, like a parasite it wouldn’t leave him alone.

He felt a strange guise of loneliness, noticing how much you began giving the unknown toy such a sudden bout of affection and hugging. Even nuzzling it as well to boot, CatNap was jealous?

How strange, CatNap wasn’t entirely familiar with the concept of emotions. Even with how certain ones could flare up at times, depending in response to the situation, whatever one he may be in. CatNap got up, stretching his finely tuned legs. CatNap wasn’t prepared for the others to pry the information out of him, trying to figure out what he saw and knew. He almost felt a little intimated, but he was… in the sense very emotional–even beneath his sleepy and quiet demeanor.

Then he could feel himself justified for the guilt of jealousy.

Well, CatNap certainly did expect the outcry, all at the same time he truly didn’t expect it either. The group, he felt rightly justified in their emotions as he had reported it to them, he too was quite in earnest – very jealous of the unknown toy. KickinChicken spoke externally with the whole of his heart, “This sucks! Why does that toy get more love than we do?”

“I wanted a hug!” Bobby cried, sitting on the floor as Crafty had patted her back, trying to gently soothe her. The colorful unicorn too was upset, yet she hid it very well. Picky had remained quiet, just stuffing her face with an apple to conceal her upset, she had big emotions and wasn’t sure on how to deal with them unlike the rest of the Smiling Critters.

Hoppy on the other hand was pounding the ground with her feet, hopping around so as to not completely create noise. She was woefully upset too as it appeared to CatNap, he hadn’t expected any of them to take this information the way they did. But they had pried it out of him, He didn't know what they were expecting to hear anyway.

CatNap’s voice came out short and strained as he made an attempt to comfort any of them, “It’s ok–” His voice fell on deaf ears, CatNap huffed a puff of red air. His tail lapping about, then overlaying to rest upon his left leg.

Bubba was muttering to himself, rapidly tapping his feet. As if his intellect could formulate a reason as to why this had happened, alas CatNap knew the elephant was simply just trying to find reason in coping with his emotion.

Believe it or not, CatNap pays very good attention to all the Smiling Critters. They are his friends after all.

“Guys!--” The group still went on, continuously upset. No means of comfort getting through to them. “GUYS.”

His visibly noticeable purple fur rustled about as he sat down, noticing that DogDay was finally back in leadership mode. CatNap didn’t know what to do to calm them all down anyway, he was pouty and upset as they were. DogDay spoke slowly, “I’ll ask Angel what’s up, maybe we just don’t understand it fully. Okay?”

The group notices, finally relenting in defeat. None of them questioned him as DogDay always had a way with words usually, he wasn’t one to go wrong as he was the leader of the group for a very good reason.

As the group clamored to find you, you weren’t that hard to find surprisingly. Mostly as you were hard to find other times, they could all easily see that you were still found with the rejected toy. Sitting back on your chair that you had found, and giving it all the affection that had made a few members quite pouty.

“Guys, let's take it easy. Me and CatNap will talk with Angel alone,” DogDay motions for them to take their leave, holding out his hands before he elaborated. “Let’s not take it personally, okay? I don’t think it’s that complicated.”

KickinChicken sighs, as Bobby and the other few do. They all take their leave, showing that Hoppy was still there. She points at DogDay, then CatNap who was confused by the predicament. A silent gesture.

Nothing weird boys, you got that?

DogDay nods at Hoppy, who finally leaves as she hops away to rejoin the rest of the group. CatNap taps DogDay’s shoulder, gesturing that he should take the lead on this chat. His own paw comes up to pat CatNap’s, “I know bud, but let’s not overdo this.”

If the sunny leader were to be honest right about now, he too felt a pang of jealousy at the lack of affection and attention that he hadn’t received like his fellow critters.

You were aimlessly cooing at the rejected toy, happily partaking in giving it all manners of affection (nothing weird, ahem). It certainly had a charm and adorableness too it that you couldn’t ignore, you have no idea as to why the designers and superiors had rejected this design or any other one in the reject aisle that you saw for that matter.

Suddenly you felt a creeping chill crawl up your spine, traveling thoroughly all the ways to your shoulders and sides.

Feeling two taps on your shoulder almost had you jolting, causing you to turn around to see CatNap and DogDay standing right behind you, albeit very menacingly from your perspective. “DogDay? E-eh CatNap?!”

DogDay waved his hands, trying his best to reassure you, “Sorry we didn’t mean to frighten you like that Angel!” CatNap nodded along with DogDay’s words, doing his best to affirm that fact. You sigh in relief, hand very visibly held to your chest.

“So..” You straighten your posture as DogDay and CatNap came around you and sat down, to really level with you at most. “What’s up? Anything bothering you or the others?” You shrug, jabbing a questioning thumb as you spoke, directly in the general direction. They both knew what you meant, but they had more pressing matters.

DogDay let out a breath, before he spoke as to steel his nerves. CatNap deadpans, directed toward DogDay, emotional expression clearly evident despite the restriction of movement his own mouth has. “Well, we just… uh, wanted to know what was up with you.” DogDay pauses, then pointed at the toy which was unknown to him laying in your lap.

“And that.” He emphasized, wincing as he searched your face for any reaction. Suddenly what had surprised the two was how you began to laugh and giggle, waving your hand as the other clutched your stomach.

“Ah.. I’m sorry.” You shook your head, wiping your face. “Were you boys… perhaps jealous of this?” A small grin plasters on your face, with convoluted happiness as you held up the toy in question.

DogDay felt embarrassed, looking away as to not stutter or speak any words. CatNap sighed in reprieve, laying his head upon his front legs. Those actions alone had answered your question that effortlessly. “I see..” You couldn’t help but try and stifle the giggle, they were simply so adorable.

Them, jealous? It’s so cute. You really couldn’t resist their pouty moods, so you calm them down, proceeding to tell them the whole story so they didn’t have a misinformed perception of the situation.

You happily spread your loving and hugs to all the Smiling Critters and CatNap individually.

Albeit, CatNap was a little embarrassed that he had saw your situation with the rejected toy incorrectly. Feeling as if he might’ve been replaced.

You had reassured him individually as you had taken your time with each of the members, “I would never replace you CatNap! There’s always room for everyone..”

“Even you.”

You grin, booping CatNap’s nose. He recoiled back as he had the set revelation, CatNap slumped as he gave in to your very touchy movements. Feeling your hands thread throughout his fur, CatNap was content that he now knew.

He really had no reason to worry.

He truly was loved.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #dogday poppy playtime #catnap poppy playtime #catnap #poppy playtime dogday #dogday #smiling critters

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love-anddeepression · 1 year ago

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STOP I LOVE YOUR PLATONIC!MIGUEL FICS <333

would you be okay with writing smth where teen!reader makes him something?? like maybe reader loves making things out of paper (like paper flowers, butterflies, tiny stars, etc.) so they decided fo make smth for miguel?

and maybe reader is nervous he won't like it?? :(

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS<333

Origami and Suit Malfunctions- Miguel O' Hara x teen!spider!reader

See, the thing with being a part time employee of the spider society meant that you had a lot of free time compared to other spiders. Normally anyone would go back to their own universe, but yours was sadly destroyed.

Sad. Anyways, it meant that you had a lot of free time. Free time to annoy Miguel, to conspire with Lyla, to practice your techniques..... and to hone your previously horrendous origami skills.

Like, no joke, you had absolutely no talent when it come to folding paper into intricate shapes. But hey, bored and borderline insanity works wonders for the brain.

So, slowly but surely, you taught yourself to make paper stars and flowers and boats. But you wanted to make something for Miguel. Why?

Who knows? Like I said, boredom does things to the brain.

Miguel wasn't exactly an open book and he'd probably die of a heart attack if you gave him flowers. You didn't have time to make hundreds of little paper stars so that was ruled out-

"What're you thinking about?" the older man's raspy voice reaches your ears.

"How to get your suit to malfunction." you quip back.

"Why must you torture me so?" he replies in a monotone voice as he sits on his seat, opposite you.

"I'm your employee, it's my job."

"Your job is to be a pain in the ass?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Precisely." you stick your tongue out and he rolls his eyes.

After a few seconds, you clear your throat, "Hey, uh, what's your favorite sport?

He's silent for a while and you can see his eyes gloss over, his reply is shaky, "Soccer."

You nod with a thumbs up, "Thank you Bossman Bosserson."

"You call me that again, I'll throw Lyla at you." he threatens as you go to leave the office.

"Jokes on you, I'd love that!" you shout back you walk out.

-----

Finally, he thinks, Finally this mission is over. Now he can go have a hot shower and a good meal and some of the amazing chai you make and he'll be in a somewhat good mood.

When he enters his office, he stunned at the silence.

Normally he can hear the sound of your feet tapping against the floor or your humming and the the fact that he can hear nothing is unnerving.

"Kid?" he calls out, Answer me.

He swings to the top of the platform, and you're not where you normally are. You're not sitting there, zoned out with your foot tapping incessantly like a little child. You're not where you're supposed to be.

"Miguel, your heart is racing, you okay?" Lyla asks him.

"Where's my kid?" he asks her.

"Oh baby Mig's hanging out with Hobie!" she says cheerfully.

"What?" he all but growls.

"Hey! Chill! She's fine! In fact, " the AI smirks and nods towards his desk, "She left something for you."

He turns and his heart skips a beat.

There's a little paper soccer ball on his desk.

It's tiny in his palm, but it has your initials and a post-it stuck on top.

"You said you liked soccer, so this is for you :D. I would never try to screw with your suit, don't worry ;)"

The ink smudges as a tear drops onto where you've signed the post it.

"God, this spider, I swear." he grumbles and wipes his eyes.

"This spider...what?" he jumps and turns at the sound of your voice. You're standing behind him with your hands behind your back and a sheepish smile on your face.

"This spider is my kid." he pats your cheek softly, "Thank you, this means a lot."

You nod with a smile, "You're welcome."

He narrows his eyes at you, "What have you been up to? Why are you being so nice?"

You slowly back away, "Pfft, what are you talking about? I've done nothing wrong"

A hologram pops up and Miguel watches as the T-Rex bellows at Pavitr's retreating form, and his head whips to you.

"Bye! Love you!" you shriek and jump off the platform, disappearing as he tries to follow you.

With a start he realizes what you just said.

"I hate that kid." he groans and then notices that he's grinning like an idiot.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv #atsv x reader #mini miguel<33

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starlostastronaut · 2 months ago

Text

SURPRISE TO GO

kim seungmin × reader - fluff, non idol au, coffee shop au, barista!seungmin - 1.1k

summary - seungmin spends his birthday working because his friends are busy. but are they really?

links - masterlist

yall i finally finished this. i forgot about seung's birthday and none of my drafts felt right so i wrote this quickly today. it's still 22nd in korea so i'm still on time. happy seungmin day! happy birthday my love! <333

no proofread and written in hurry. i hope you still enjoy and let me know your thoughts! <3

The bell rang above your head as you entered the small café. There were not many people inside at this hour. It was nearing the evening and the café was slowly going to sleep, people leaving and employees cleaning the emptying tables. You looked over the place, your eyes stopping at the coffee station. There he was, busy with preparing drinks and looking stupidly hot while doing it. Nope, focus, not the time for that now.

You felt it was a crime to make Seungmin work on his birthday, but volunteered anyway, when another barista called in that morning with food poisoning. When you asked why he did it, he just replied why not, the extra money was always worth it and his friends were busy anyway today.

Which was true. But not for the reason Seungmin thought. Ever since this morning, your secret group chat was blowing up with things going wrong. First the cake you ordered arrived damaged, then the restaurant canceled on you at the last minute… it was always something. Even now, you felt your phone constantly buzzing in your pocket.

You found yourself at a quiet corner table, where Seungmin wouldn't immediately see you from where he was and you took out your phone, dreading whatever catastrophe was awaiting you. Rolling your eyes at the chat name (seriously, who let Hyunjin name it?) you opened the messages.

SEUNGMINNIE'S BIRTHDAY BONANZA CLUB

sunshine baby sent a photo

sunshine baby: me and minho-hyung just saved the day!!

work of ART: wow the cake looks amazing lix

work of ART: me and changbin-hyung are almost done with wrapping the presents

work of ART: btw who's idea was it to do everything with pochacco paper? i hate that damn dog now he's everywhere 😭

devil bunny: stop being dramatic hyunjin you volunteered 🙄

DAD(dy): karaoke reservation for 7pm confirmed

DAD(dy): get your asses here and help innie with decorating

Oh. Finally some good news. You quickly responded to the guys, deciding on when to bring Seungmin to the karaoke. Checking the time, you realized you had about an hour left before Seungmin's shift ends and you need to somehow get him to the karaoke, where there is a surprise party waiting for him. Hopefully. But you trusted Chan that he can handle his six chaotic kids and nothing would go wrong again.

Deciding to make your presence known, you walked up to the counter. “Hey Seung,” you said, leaning your forearms on the counter as you checked the menu. “I'll have… whatever this is.” You pointed to the picture of this month's special drink, not daring to guess what was inside. But it looked big and complicated enough to hopefully fill some of the hour you had.

“Y/N.” Seungmin looked up in surprise, his lips immediately stretching into a soft smile when he saw it was you. He looked almost surprised to see you there. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see my favourite boy,” you smiled. “And because he's working today…” You looked up, your eyes meeting his. Looking into Seungmin's eyes was always an experience. His dark, deep, chocolate eyes held the stars of the universe in them and you often found yourself weak to the love you saw when he looked at you. Sometimes, it took all your willpower to not avert your gaze. It felt like a bright beam of the sun, blinding and warm at the same time. And you weren't backing now.

If Seungmin's coworker was here, he would have by now uttered some ridiculous comment about the very obvious tension and to get a room. Luckily for you, Jongho was cleaning up spilled coffee, facing away from you.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you,” Seungmin chuckled. What? Oh right, you were ordering a drink.

“Why not? It looks… fun?”

“It's disgusting as fuck.” Seungmin quickly looked around, letting out a relieved sigh when his manager was nowhere to be seen. “Our manager keeps coming up with insane things, but it went downhill after the first one. I'll make you your usual?” he offers instead.

You chuckled at his answer. He was the expert here. “Sure, thank you baby.”

Seungmin winked at you and began making your usual order. Moving away to not stand in the way but to have a good view of your boyfriend still, you leaned on the counter.

You loved watching Seungmin to do just about anything. He moved with practiced ease, knowing the steps by heart. If you woke him up at midnight and told him to do something, he would excel at it half asleep. He was calm, confident and always knew what to do. It was hot.

“There you go.” Seungmin slid your drink over to you and you smiled when you saw a cookie next to the cup.

“Is this the girlfriend privilege?” you laughed, carefully unwrapping the cookie and breaking it in half. You waited for when Seungmin was free again to call him over and feed him half of the cookie as he laughed and protested he's on the clock and shouldn't. As it turned out, bothering Seungmin was a great way to pass up your time and before you knew it, he was clocking out and offering his hand to you so you could leave together.

You led Seungmin to the karaoke, making up a lie about how you wanted to eat dinner together to explain why you weren't taking the usual route back to his and Felix's place.

“Karaoke?” Seungmin raised his eyebrow when you arrived in front of the building.

“You like singing and the buffet is great?” you shrugged, pulling him inside.

You made your way to one of the rooms, leading Seungmin into the darkness. “Happy birthday Seungmin!” the guys shouted as you flicked on the light, revealing your friends, balloons and gifts wrapped in matching wrapping paper and the cake Felix and Minho made.

While Seungmin stared in shock, you grabbed your present, lining up with the guys to congratulate him. “Thank you, Y/N,” Seungmin smiled as he received the box and you knew it wasn't just for the gift.

Later you watched him unwrap the presents with a glass of champagne in hand, enjoying his reactions to the gifts of all sorts. Sentimental ones, nice ones, and Minho's. That one deserved its special category, because the way he doubled over in laughter when he saw the shorts and couldn't show you for a solid two minutes, was something you very rarely saw. His eyes sparkled, barely visible with how much he laughed and that would forever be your favourite sight.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @hanjsquokka @starseungs @starlostseungmin @ivaneedssleep @bbybearcubbs @lakoya @rylea08 @caitlyn98s @oddracha @sweetbokji @feybin @qwonyoung23 @jiaaabbahng @hope69world @palindrome969 @alicedawitchbish @hyunjinshairband7 @nattisbored @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @kirakombat @kmgfeels @freyjhasdesiredreality @dazzlingjade @boldy-49 @naarmzz @rei-reia @cookiesandcreammy @urfavblondy @chlodavids @armystay89 @btskzfav @vegetablesarefuntables @tearzzuu @ch4nn13luv @kisses-too-the-moon @mellhwang @lolareadsimagines @missmajdastark @drewsandsebastianswife @mitchii @chillichillicrabcrab23 @laniminchanlix @dearly-somber @greyyeti @linosazuna @na-tas-post

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#( all works⎯ 🗃 )#neverendingdreams #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids fanfiction #fluff #kim seungmin fluff #stray kids x reader #coffee shop au

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justcallmesakira · 11 months ago

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Bsd men with a childish s/o:

Sypnosis: how they go on with their day with you :333

Genre: crack, low key fluff

Warnings: mention of roblox, McDonald's, LOADS of blasting stuff, torturing Mexican man, war flashbacks

Dazai-

• one word, power couple (more like powerblasting the agency every couple of hours)

• he absolutely loves your childish demeanor, like bro you saw how he acts? He gives undeveloped 22 year old man and so do you🙃

•anyways he actually enjoys your company, your cute little childish acts and stuff

• ex: blasting the electricity cables of Yokohama, drawing silly little Sanrio doodles everywhere, going ":3"after cutely making the enemy go insane etc.

•honestly he would definitely take you to the playground instead of a fancy restaurant 😘👍

•probably swings with you on the swings •"Couple found playing in a children's playground before getting hit in the anal by lighting"

•bro he would go with your childish and stopid tactics😰😰😰

• "omg let's make a paper boat and ride it down the river😍😍🤩😘😘🥰" "anything for you babygorilla😏😈😈😈😽😼"

•like seriously though the agency actually worries, not for dazai but for when he gaslights you with a lollipop into committing double-plugging each other off

•he still enjoys your childish antics, you would go with a cute Lil face doing dumb stuff and he will just watch you with soften eye

•anyways you two have matching energy but unless your in real danger he's not saving you... He's joining you😰😰😨

Chuuya-

•hahh....

•he's so done with you

•you would act so silly and chilly that's he's gonna get literally WAR flashbacks (dazai I am lookin at you and your little lighter🤨🤨

•when ever he took you to McDonald's you would ask the employee for extra sauce and he would ask "why would you want extra sau- AND WHY ARE WE IN MCDONALD'S ORDERING HAPPY Meals????!!!" *slurps down every sauce packet* "it's for the toy, chuuya"

•he totally not traumatized by your tactics <33

•poor chuuya he just wants to have a nice romantic bath with you and there you are with rubber ducks and balls everywhere

•"darling Ily but why the hell did you stick rubber ducks on your body with Elmer's glue? 😃" -chuuya probably

•even during hard missions your so unserious😭

•it's scares him how goofy your are during a shooting..... *flashback*

•he wants to put like a dog leash on you so I don't wander off Dora the explorer live action (NO YALL NOT IN THAT Way) •chuuya=🙅 you begging him to buy a children's kitchen set= 💁‍♀️🔪🍳.

•he genuinely likes your sweet little innocent side

•whenever he's tired of babysit-- I mean taking care of you he takes you to kouyou and goes 🕳️🎢 'bye'

•HELP AUTOMOTIVE BIBI FOGASA STARTED PLAYING-😰😰😰

•he still cares for you especially when you are tired and fell asleep he would carry you to the bedroom and sleep with your head on his shoulder and him giving you a soft smile :)

•just don't remind him of a certain someone.... 🤕

Fyodor-

•he doesn't know why he picked up a street dawg like you

•careful who U call street dog before I leave you on the streets😃

•you and gogol would do stupid stuff in his room, run around playing tag all over his office and there he is with his silly little discord mod on his computer (fyodor please get your rusty ass off from that computer)

•you actually like his goofy cartoon mouse logo and made merch out of his organization 😘😘😘

•"myshka, why are you wearing my organization's shirt and a-" "shhhh- I am promoting your company" "what"

•he's just like chuuya but calmer and is questioning how you can act so carefree while he's brutally torturing a Mexican man

•LEAVE THE MEXICAN MAN ALONE FYODOR-🇲🇽

•still he buys you those kitchen set toys so you won't scream "shimmy shimmy ya" during the Doa meetings😃😃😃

•it's actually kinda sweet bcs of the dynamic you share like-- cold x cheerful

•you begged him to play roblox with you

•"I have work to do" "you can blast people in this game" "..."

•"yadayadaya safusafusafu" -you

•he likes your cheery mess but keep it at an extent before he sends you to the adoption center

•ADOPTION CENTER KINK---

A/N: I am sorry this is bad but it's my first post so please be patient I will start a writing blog with rules and all ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Divider crds: /@junkyukim on pinterest

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walnutcookie · 6 days ago

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good day fellow rodger fan, i rlly love your art it gives me whimsy and joy. do you have any headcanons ab him and glisten, perhaps toodles as well? (family dynamics my beloved actually) if not either way i think your stuff is still so rad.

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! <333 WEEPS TEARS OF JOY.... i do have some headcanons hehehe... in no particular order/organization heres some of my thoughts on them:

- Rodger is a sleepwalker. Very Embarrassed by it.

- Toodles really enjoys drawing !!! She likes to draw with the other toons a lot (especially glisten, but he usually just watches her and then treats her art like the mona lisa so she feels good about herself)

- rodgers reaction to any sort of physical affection is really funny because he doesnt know how to react. He wants to keep his awesome and mysterious persona but also he doesnt want to be rude or anything. does he reciprocate? does he try to get away before it happens??? does he say something or does he keep quiet? Usually it just results in him freezing up and going stiff

- also adding onto above he tends to be paranoid about peoples intentions. bro gets a hug from goob and freezes and hes thinking "is this an attempt to console me does he think im mentally unwell or is he trying to find my weaknesses so he can kill me"

- in general rodger can be a very paranoid person and starts panicking at the slightest threat but hes pretty good at stopping to think and clearing his head. Logically he knows goob wouldnt kill him and doesnt know his secrets but it is a thought that pops up in his head for a brief moment

- toodles is always very quick to jump in and try to help whenever someone is upset. She wants to help people as best she can so ofc she would but the problem is that shes never sure what to say to cheer people up :'] she tries parroting some of the things rodger has told her when she was sad but also from her experience it never works so she tries to distract people instead most of the time. it makes her feel really guilty whenever she doenst try to help or if she fails to make them feel any better

- Toodles is very close with teagan!! teagan is like her fun uncle :] they take care of toodles sometimes if rodger is busy (or cough missing). Tea parties galore!!!!

- glisten is romo-repulsed i know this in my heart ok. [i know ive drawn him doing romantic things i cant explain the nuances to this in a cohesive way im just projecting ontohim as a romo repulsed person in a relationship]

- Glisten is definitely introverted but not in the "ohh hes shy and hates people" way hes just drained when he talks to people even if he likes talking to people. He needs to take breaks from socializing a lot to recharge his social battery especially since hes always so worried about what people think of him but he also dies if hes alone too long

- toodles is actually VERY fascinated with bugs if theres an ant or a beetle or a roach or something in the facility shes gonna beg to keep it and make a house for it so she can "give it a better life" (glisten will not scream or freak out but there WILL be visible discomfort on his face and he will avoid that bug like the plague)

- rodger smokes cigarettes . He knows which employee(s) carry them around and will snatch one from their pocket at the right moment when nobody is looking... he tries covering his tracks and flushing everything down the toilet and covering up the smell but ofc he gets found out when theres a clog LOL.

- There was also suspicion when toodles started pretend-smoking and saying she was doing the thing that rodger did but most everyone else just assumed it was toodles being a silly little kid

okie dokieee thats all ill do for now !!! Thank you so much for this ask GAUH im so happy people are interested in my hcs for them n stuff 🥹

#🎉 asks #glisten dandys world #toodles dandys world #rodger dandys world #tw smoking #smoking #🎉 rambles

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askemployee333 · 5 months ago

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(i havent made a blog for 126 yet bare with me-) Employee 126: "Hey you wouldn't have happened to hear bird noises lately right.? Just a question haha.."

can’t really hear anything anymore.. sorry.

#DUDE I MEANT TO BE DRAWING IMAGES W ANSWERS #BUT I HAVE NO MOTIVATION #im sorry gang #employee 333 #the stanley parable #the stanley parable: ultra deluxe #tsp #tsp oc #tsp:ud #ask blog #answered

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citruslullabies · 9 months ago

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DAMN ur writing is amazing man, keep it up, ur doing great !!<3

also hope u dont mind me asking but do u think u can do a dogday x reader where he's in love with her, but she has to refuse him everytime since Poppy playtime co. wont let relationships happen between coworkers. ps. this happends before any of the disasters happends (dogday is still a human worker,,,ig Rich, since that is a really big theory rn) also its angst, HEAVY angst. they dont deserve happyness (its half of my oc lore,,i need to make her feel pain) ((ALSO as a payback for this, if u'd like, i can do a fanart for u ! ^_^))

No YOU'RE amazing!<333

Trigger warnings: none

Requested by: clownsgirlghost

Romantic/platonic?: romantic-ish?

Category: angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 496

Professionalism

The building was buzzing with children's laughter and the chattering of critters and employees alike, the colorful place being a place of happiness with an underlying tone of secrets far too dark for the public.

“Rich, for the last time, no.” you said with a sigh, not even looking at him as you continued with your work. The canine mascot frowned snd groaned, holding a bundle of flowers in hand that he heard from co-workers were your favorite. He leaned in a bit but kept his distance respectfully. “Please? I promise, we can go out to dinner and I'll pay, everything. You can even choose the restaurant!”

You sighed as you paused your work momentarily, just long enough to look back at the Dogday mascot. You shook your head with a frown growing ever deeper as this interaction continued. “You know the rules.” You stated, which was a sad and harsh reality of it all. They had to stay strictly professional. It's not that you didn't like Rich, it's just that you'd like to keep your job.

The man was upset, but respected your wishes and went back to work. He asked at least twice a week and the answer was always the same, he just wished that you'd give him a chance. He's willing to go to the end of the earth and back just to go out to dinner with you but he respects your wishes of not doing so. As the days went on, there seemed to be an overgrowing tension in Playco.

You started to avoid Rich, not wanting to hurt his feelings any further as you kept yours chained down like some feral dog with rabies. You kept to your work and made it clear what your boundaries were, one day he went back up to you with no flowers or anything in hand. Just himself.

“Hey.. I was thinking-” before he could even finish, you responded with annoyance at his persistence despite you making a clear boundary with him. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you took a deep breath.

“Rich. You're a cool dude, but get it through your thick skull that I am not going out with you. I'd rather keep my job then get a write up or worse, fired because I decided to go out on a date with you.” You said, keeping your composure as well as you could. You shut your eyes as your stomach felt tight and heavy with bubbling feelings of too many things at once. “Just leave me alone and do your work, so that I can do mine.” You stated bluntly before turning away from him and continuing your work.

Poor Rich walked away, hurt. All he wanted was to ask you if you'd like to go out to lunch with him as friends. He just wanted to stay as friends if he couldn't be with you romantically.

Shame that he won't get that chance again after tomorrow.

Thank you for requesting! And art would be AMAZING!

#smiling critters #dogday x y/n #dogday #dogday x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #citrus fic

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yourfavvgal · 6 months ago

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dps headcanons - at the mall!!

thank you thank you thank you @feminist-dinosaur27 for the idea!! (i had some much fun writing this one) <333

(apologise for any grammar/spelling errors!!)

- - -

- mr keating would obviously drive them to the mall (wouldn’t wanna risk charlie crashing the car)

—> took quite a long time to find a parking space, a LOT of people are there.

- todd would sprint to the book shop, he’d browse all the books and stay there for the whole of the trip, unless neil came to take him around the mall.

—> he would buy a few poetry books that aren’t aloud in welton. (he hides them dww)

—> mr keating would also be in the book store, strolling around, browsing at classic and poetry books

- meeks and pittsie would have a casual stroll to the apple store, to browse and talk about how the different mechanisms were put into the computers and phones (meeks would totally be asking the employees loads of questions)

—> all meeks bought was a few giant posters to hang up in his room (mostly science but also a few music ones) and pittsie bought a chocolate cupcake and a squishmallow

- charlie and neil walked around together, buying random stuff (charlie buying the most stuff) e.g a slime kit, random posters, mini toy animals (just random shit)

—> he also sprinted to the sweet shop to buy sweets. he loves sweets (except he becomes VERY hyper off them)

- knox walked around buying stuff for chris, e.g flowers, chocolates (he REALLY thinks she will love them, she really won’t and he needs to understand it 💔)

—> he spent over 25$ on stuff for chris. he is way to obsessed..

- cameron just walked around with different people and switched to walk with others. he was the most sensible out of the group, not buying anything stupid and only buying stuff that was DEFINITELY needed.

- after shopping, they all went to the coffee shop to get something to drink.

—> todd: chamomile tea,, neil: caffeinated coffee (needs it for having late rehearsals) charlie: a lemonade,, knox: water (he deserves something pure),, meeks: tea,, pitts: hot chocolate w cream,, cameron: another tea, maybe mint?

#dead poets society #dps #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #knox overstreet #(hope you enjoy this one!)

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webslingingslasher · 9 months ago

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wait now that i think ab it. spidey would be an elite pizza delivery guy bc he could just swing everywhere

if peters dead parents money ever runs out, he should either pimp himself out to ethan or become a delivery guy <333 (peter would hate me so bad for even saying this jkskdksl)

so funny you say this! here's a wip i have from working at a pizza place w peter <3

----

“I know you’re fucking me over and I won’t leave until you say it.” You blink, he’s in a red shirt, an employee. He’s upset, you’d imagine his eyebrows are furrowed but you couldn’t see them under the curls that rested on his forehead, his tone playful but serious. He’s awfully cute, he looks just a tad bit familiar, you assume you’ve seen him around campus once or twice, it seemed nearly the entire staff were students.

You check for a name tag, it’s missing.

“Parker, meet the new hire. New hire, meet Parker.”

You wave shyly, “hi, Parker.”

“Oh, I’m not-”

Joe cuts him off, “Kid, take her to get some shirts, then you can come back in and we’ll talk about you missing shifts.” Parker narrows his eyes at his boss then back down, “alright,” he directs his attention towards you, “follow me, nooby.” With a final handshake to your new boss you follow him out the room, he takes you to the left and behind a stack of lockers laid uniform shirts and aprons.

“I say take one for every shift you plan to work plus one, then you can let the laundry go for an extra day.” He winks at you. You smile and look for your size, stacking four shirts and tucking them under your arm. Before you can ask him where you know him from, his name is called.

“Parker! Three on east side up, you got thirty!”

The kid groans, and even though you don’t understand the dynamic yet, you still work there. That means you’re in the trenches with everyone here, he looks at you and complains. “See? I told you, fucking with me.” Parker rolls his eyes and races down the hall, and makes a pit stop at Joe’s office to point at him, “you’re fucking with me.”

You can hear his laugh from where you were. A job was a job, and job’s suck, but this one seemed a little less sucky than normal.

#thanks anon!

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cressthebest · 4 months ago

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my favorite jegulily fics under 10K. feel free to add your own!

show me all the scars you hide

2.5K - no rating - completed

do i hate snape? yes. do i like him in this fic? a little. he’s on thin ice. *squints* also it’s about baby harry pointing out how his scar matches everyone else’s scar. it’s super cute. background jegulily tho :/

secret love song

3.7K - rated g - completed

it’s just really cute hogwarts years fluff about how their freinds find out they’re dating. (but only seeing two together at a time, so they’re really confused at first) also it’s a five part series that i really need to read

There’s no better love that beckons above me.

7K - rated t - completed

uh this fic actually shaped my jegulily world view. so um. there’s that. it’s literally about them getting high together in the astronomy tower all year and then falling in love. it’s that type of tragic where everything happens so realistically that it hurts, even if nothing bad or tragic actually happened. ya know?

Cheater

3.7K - rated g - completed

it’s a modern au with regulus’ employees seeing reg kiss or flirt with two different people (knowing he’s already with someone!!!!) basically it’s concerned employees worried that their boss is cheating, while he’s actually in a loving polyam relationship. it’s kinda silly

date night

2.4K - rated g - completed

this forms half of my domestic jegulily vibes and opinions. it’s so them <333 also it’s jily having asked out regulus months ago, and him not realizing they’re all three dating, feeling like he’s always intruding on james and lily’s life and date night. it’s really fluffy and sweet

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #lily evans #jegulily #jegulily fic #fic rec #fic recs

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days-until-burnout · 5 months ago

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hiii sorry for bothering buttt may i request maybe scar/joel arcade au where joel wins everything for scar :333

i rlly2 like ur writings theyre all so good !!

so... FIRST OF. YOU ARE NO BOTHER. YOU DONT BOTHER ME OR ANYONE EVER. YA HEAR ME?! YOU'RE FAR FROM BOTHERING. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. and now, well. the original idea had more games but i got too into feelings. and... yeah. got a little angsty compared to what you asked for but that's writing for ya. hope you enjoy regardless also, thank you! i do try to write good-ish stuff despite the limited time and planning so im happy to hear you like it<3!

_____

📧 Day 22 -

Characters - Scar/Joel Words - 1,970 Time - 60 mins Content - Modern (HS/College) AU | hurt/comfort

Normally, Joel wouldn’t care about his surroundings, it was better to focus on his own thing and blend in. For as loud and imposing as he was, he rarely stuck his nose in other people’s business. But currently, the noise was getting in the way of his concentration, another missed shot. He grabbed another basketball, looked behind him to find the source of his distraction. A group of teens, all surrounding someone. He shouldn’t involve himself, way too many to handle on his own, but if he didn’t, who would stick up for whoever was at the center?

He looked around for an employee, until his attention was drawn back to the group. A panicked peace offering. Very panicked.

“Hey, hey, hey, can’t we all get along? No need to get handsy!”

Joel frowned. The response made his skin itch. Vile words. Before he knew it, the ‘leader’ was stumbling forward, the basketball bouncing away as he approached them. Familiar faces, all of them, from the same school. His eyes flickered to the person in the center, finding Scar looking up at him with undecided fear or relief. He looked back to the ‘leader’, unamused.

“Pick on someone your own size,” he gloated, keeping a neutral expression to their glare. He looked up when they stepped closer, anger in their eyes, a fist quick on his shirt. He glanced between his scrunched up shirt and them, giving them an out, “I dare you, tough guy.”

They glared, then shoved him back, but he planted himself firmly, barely moving. The group began to move away, going around him to not get in his way.

He watched them all leave the arcade before turning back to Scar, who finally settled on relief. Just as Scar opened his mouth to say something, thank him probably, he walked off to find the basketball he threw, prompting walking it back to the game that had ended. With newfound peace, he threw the ball and scored though there were no points given. Scar caught up then, rolling just behind him, so he couldn’t walk away. Well, he could, but he might as well hear him out.

“Uh– Joel, right? Thank you. You didn’t have to, I’m sorry you lost your game beca—”

“Do they pick on you?” he asked instead, not wanting to hear gratitude or apologies. After all, it wasn’t Scar’s fault, though he found it hard to let him know.

Scar looked away then, facade breaking as he stuttered some excuses, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly lying. “I, well, no– I mean, they don’t pick on me. It’s just fun! Between friends, you know, right? Just some fun between friends, teasing and messing with each other. It’s a-okay!” Scar raised his hands and did some jazz movement, a forced smile plastered on his lips. He looked tired, which was something. Joel pinned it in the back of his mind, for later, if he still felt like dealing with all this. “And it was my fault, anyways. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I must’ve hit them with my chair accidentally. It’s all alright, trust me! I– Yeah, I can handle myself. It was all fun.”

Joel didn’t believe him. But he didn’t try to pry more either. It was whatever.

He glanced over at another game, then back at Scar who seemed to have turmoil in his face. “You want to play?”

Scar looked up with wide eyes, almost sparkling but they quickly died, a sad smile replacing the excited o of his lips. “Oh, nonono, I couldn’t bother you with that! I was just here to watch for a bit. I have other things to do, places to be! I’m a busy person, very busy! My—”

“On a Saturday morning?”

“I, well– You never know with these things, Joel! People are busy and—”

“You owe me.”

Scar’s eyes went wide again, and Joel figured he could bully Scar into playing some games, which sounded sadistic but it was whatever. He didn’t have anywhere to be, and it was hard to ignore the guy in the wheelchair watching everyone else having fun in the arcade. His eyes flickered away as he fished out his arcade card, extending it to Scar, who looked between the piece of plastic and him.

“Five dollars. And don’t keep me waiting.”

Hesitantly, Scar took the card and pushed himself to the counter, Joel following behind. The exchange was quick, with Scar soon turning around and extending the card. Just as he began to thank him again, Joel walked away, Scar spluttering as he followed clumsily, careful to not hit others or the machinery. Joel stopped at a water-shooting game, pointing at it as he looked at him with an expressionless face.

“I want to play this one.”

Scar blinked seven times, opening and closing his mouth as he looked between him and the machine, timidly getting closer to tap the card on the reader. “Uh, there…”

“I wanted this one.” Joel stood on the other water-gun, and Scar reached over to tap the card. “Well, don’t waste the credit.”

“Right…” Scar placed the card on the little table, got his chair as close as he could to the seats and lifted himself on it. His hands trembled on the handles of the water-guns, staring intently at the flashing buttons in front of him before a hand reached over from his peripheral, pressing the start button.

Joel selected the level and they began, shooting zombies in waves. It was tense, Scar constantly glancing over at Joel, who eventually caught on and stared right back, almost daring him to try again. Scar didn’t, focusing on the zombies and trying to not make a bigger fool of himself. They raked up points together, until Scar died leaving him to watch Joel’s precision aim and almost calculated movements, the quick decisions and quick thinking before dying too, which Scar noticed as Joel throwing.

“Well… Uh, that was fun! Thank y–”

Joel got up and looked around the arcade, finding empty machines and pointing at one. “I want to play that one now.”

Joel didn’t walk away this time, and Scar wanted to give him the card, but he lifted himself back to his chair and followed over. Joel didn’t stray far. Never close enough for Scar to slip the card into the pocket of his hoodie, but still close enough that people moved out of the way. Scar felt sick, but he didn’t know if it was from the shame of Joel’s pity or… or maybe sick from happiness? If that was an option. Regardless, they arrived at another game, an aim game with clowns as their targets.

“You… um, do you want to play together?” Scar asked, looking up at Joel who looked away from the clowns and shrugged. His heart picked up as he tapped the card on one reader, putting it down, and only exhaling when Joel stood by his side instead of going to the other machine.

Joel showed him up at every game. And the eventual teasing began, smirks and innocent eyes. Scar found it hard to be hurt or mad or sad, found it harder and harder game after game, always aware that they spent more than the five dollars he put in. In another situation, he would’ve watched others play with a quiet jealousy, but today, he didn’t mind watching Joel killing it in games he couldn’t take part in.

“You look good,” he blurted out randomly, mind away from how late it probably was. It was hard to tell how long they’ve spent in the arcade, much longer to tell when Joel refused to stop pointing at games and now pouting to go.

Joel looked back over his shoulder, giving him a smirk that was more than that teasing one, not like the ones he gave him when he missed a clear shot or when he ended hundreds of points ahead, but it was a different kind of teasing.

“On a bike, I mean. Suits you, Bad Boy and all that,” he said quickly, waving his hand about as Joel continued to drive without looking at the screen for long. It was unfair how easy Joel made all the games look, and it was even more unfair how good Joel looked while crushing said games. “You should get one.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Scar tried not to. He tried to focus on his own steering wheel with Joel beside him, he tried to not think about it on the roller coaster simulator while their shoulders pressed against each other, and he tried to not think about it as they reached the price counter. He finally stopped thinking about it when his phone rang, and he picked to hear his mom ask where he’d been without answering her for hours now. He told the truth, promised he’d be on their pick-up spot right away.

The day was ending already?

He didn’t want it to.

“You want something?” Joel asked nonchalantly, prompting Scar to look up at him, staring at his profile for a moment. The lights just on the edge of his face, the rest in shadows before he turned to him, now half-half of lights and shadows. He looked at the prices, so far away and the corridor too narrow to enter. He shook his head, and Joel looked back.

“We didn’t get enough tickets for it, anyways,” he said a chuckle, and Joel looked at him again. “And! And even if we did, five dollars don’t cover even a quarter of the tickets needed!”

“What is it?”

Scar blinked. Joel was back to earlier, all that warmth and giggles replaced with… with something. Serious? Not mean, but firm. He looked away sheepishly, “There’s that… uh, Star Wars model? But! I don’t really want it. Nope. I’d rather have a plushie or—”

“I’m getting it.”

“Wai—”

Scar didn’t chase, the path was too narrow. But he could leave. He could leave while Joel flagged an employee, he could leave while Joel made the transaction, and he could absolutely leave while Joel walked over, the model in his arm. He could.

“Here. Hold this for me. My arms are tired.” Joel held the box between them, could very easily drop it in Scar’s lap and walk away. But he didn’t, just like how Scar didn’t leave when he could. He stood, planted in place, giving Scar the chance to reject it. Scar didn’t. “So what now? Are you leaving?”

“Uh, yeah. My mom– She will pick me up soon. Do… Um, do you need a ride home?”

Joel shook his head, ran a hand through his hair as they walked out of the arcade, headed to the lift, “Getting picked up too. Just waiting for my brother to finish work.”

Scar nodded, rolling into the lift, “So…”

“Do you come often?”

“Often? No– No, no, I don—”

“I’ve seen you around often,” Joel said as he pressed the ground floor. Joel didn’t look at him, and Scar looked at the box in his lap. “You don’t usually stay that long though. What was different today? Was it them?”

“I… No… No, I just… I was on my way to the counter to get a card…”

The wait wasn’t long. The lot was bustling with people coming in and out of the mall, everyone too busy with themselves. Before the door could open, Joel dropped the card on top of the box and took a step back.

“Well, I’ll see you at school, I guess.” Joel glanced at his phone, turning to walk back into the mall. “Oh, and I’ll see you here next Saturday too, I guess. Bye.”

The doors closed before Scar could respond. He looked forward to it though.

_____

is scarjoel not their ship name why dont they have posts what is up with you tumblr 🧍‍♂️ slashjay. anyhow. i... i really thought theyd be more popular but i guess not. someone should change that (i say, looking in the mirror) also. i was thinking about it, and i should probably tag the fics by universe 🤔 like: hc, life, modern, fantasy etc etc. which i will do tomorrow when i get sad for not doing much to trick my brain into thinking i was productive 👌

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #scarjoel #goodtimeswithscar #smallishbeans #day 22

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