#busy with life busy with his let's play busy trying to keep people alive
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windfighter · 2 years ago
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What if... Etho.
Etho got obsessed with Decked out, so obsessed he possessed Tango to get him to start working on it, keep working on it, get it done. Etho's itching to play, as is everyone else, but no one is as much as Etho
Etho doesn't know he's the cause of it. Doesn't know his obsession has possessed Tango. Doesn't know he's the reason for Tango's dishelved looks and sleepless nights spent in the dungeons.
Of course, Tango doesn't know either. It's just the spirit of the game. It's just his own obsession. He just wants to get it done so his friends (they're still his friends right? They haven't forgotten him?) can have a fun little game to play
But when Etho whispered to him in the com, a short "want to come see a faster way to gather deepslate?" Tango felt relieved of his duty for the evening
For the first time in forever
not gonna stop thinking about tango phrasing it in his video that he was given permission to leave decked out. like. you know. given the context that all the hermits seem to be trying to get him out of the hole. who on earth did he need permission from,
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liloinkoink · 5 months ago
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one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal
like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him
i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?
he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so
Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!
Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up
of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.
the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse
it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead
and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left
but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably
(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)
because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!
now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.
but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors
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creamecafe · 4 days ago
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I haven’t seen many fics about player 333 yet (Myunggi) 😔 Could you do maybe an enemies to lover type story with him!!!
Wicked Game | Myung-Gi Pt. 1
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𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You're stuck in the squid games fighting for your life. It also doesn't help that you are stuck with a wanna be rich scammer fraud.
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Myung-Gi x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: enemies to lovers, hurt
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:
𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy this! Also the reader is an ex of Myung-Gi before the games. Please understand I don't HATE Kim Jun-hee, I just thought it would fit more for enemies to lovers. I also believe I may put this into two parts as the 3rd season is yet to come
If you would like to be tagged for the next part, let me know in the comments down below and I'll add you to the list!!
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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Joining the squid games could possibly be the last thing any person with common sense and a reason to live would consider doing. Unless they either had none.
That's what it looked like for you. The games you had to do to win 45.6 billion won had you either questioning if it's still worth it to still keep going or just to end it all on this island.
Out of all the people in these games, there's one face that you despised seeing and wondered how he's still alive after what he did, Myung-Gi.
He's your ex boyfriend. Being with him was great at first, but once he was invested in the crypto coin thing business, it felt like you're being cheated on. It also didn't help that he had an affair behind your back with a girl named Kim Jun-hee who turned up pregnant.
You didn't hate Kim Jun-hee, as you felt bad for her that your ex abandoned her and their baby, but the whole thing hurted you.
There's nothing more you wanted to get out of here with enough money to move to another place and start off fresh.
When you first woke up in the dormitory with all the other players, you wondered where this possibly could go. You looked around to see so many unfamiliar faces.
Then a man in a pinkish red suit all the way across the room wuth a black covered mas with a white triangle comes out from double doors and starts explaining why majority are here. Because of their debts.
They showed different videos of people playing Ddakji and getting slapped in the face. There was one face you recognized, your ex. It wouldn't be surprising that he was in debt for trying to chase after the crypt coin thing.
It looks like you're not the only one who hated him, many people who fell for the crypto coin were also mad at him. A purple-haired guy stood out from the rest, as he was a rapper you heard from others who were apparently fans. You had no interest in him or your ex but were wondering what the whole ordeal of winning money is.
You had to sign a waiver for the games, and you were soon directed to take pictures. It was rough enough. Then you would have to climb stairs that seemed like you were going to Mount Everest. You saw your ex from the right side across. You also didn't want to risk being seen.
Finally, you reached the first game after what seemed like an eternity. There was a huge robot doll and the whole layout was supposed to imitate a school playground with its blue sky and sand ground.
"Hey there pretty" You turn around and see the purple haired guy who was talking to your ex
"Who are you?" You exclaimed looking him up and down not in the mood to be hit on.
"I'm Choi Seung-hyun, Thanos for my music. You might of heard my raps before?"
"If I did, I probably would want to be deaf right now. Including not hearing this conversation."
He pretended to be hurt and put a hand over his heart.
"Ouch girl. Cold aren't you?"
You rolled your eyes. He sees another girl walks by and also tries talking to her. Poor girl, you thought.
"Y/N?" You hear your name being called and look around.
"Y/N!" A hand fell on your shoulder and you flinched turning around.
It was Myung-Gi. Your panic turned into annoyance as you rolled your eyes again.
"What are you doing here?" He asks
"Should be asking you that too, but I think it's obvious."
"Can we please talk?"
"What's there to talk about Myung-Gi? You chose a cyrpt coin over me and cheated on me, and got another girl pregant"
"And I regret it very much. Please come back."
"Share those regrets with the others in here too, including the mother of your child."
He tried to reply back but you walked away from him, ignoring him.
Speakers came on, explaining the rules of the game.
A screaming man came into the front and said it's not what we think the game is. He exclaims that if you move, you'll die.
People around you scoffed and found the man crazy. It seemed like to you he was crazy too, but what if he was right?
He was still screaming telling people not to move a muscle when the game starts.
The robot started turning around and putting her hand up to the tree to not look at the other player.
It started singing.
"Everyone freeze!" The man in front says.
Nobody moved a muscle. Your eyes looked around and saw no one moving. What if the guys telling the truth?
The doll looked away and you started moving forward quickly along with everyone else.
"Everyone freeze!" Yelled again the older man.
There was a scream coming from a girl who moved. She laughed exclaiming she just moved. A bullet came through her head and she dropped dead.
The guy really wasn't lying then. One wrong move, you're dead. More people started moving and more gunshots were coming.
Bodies were dropping. People are screaming. This was a bad idea to be here. You were also pretty sure you were going to die with your ex boyfriend. That another cherry on top to add.
"If you don't make it to the finishing line on time, you'll also die." The man yells but has his mouth covered like he was going to take a sneeze.
It felt impossible to win this game. You were so sure you were going to win money but now the only thing you could be winning is death. You wanted to see if Myung-Gi was still alive.
But you couldn't risk being shot. Everyone sooned formed into a single file line. The man explained that the doll can't see what's behind a person if there's a bigger person in front.
More gunshots came. More bodies dropping. You couldn't stop now though. You're close to the finish line, you can feel it.
You soon reached the finish line relieved that you made it alive. You looked around for Myung-Gi to see if he's alive.
Why do you care so much about him? You thought to yourself.
It's just basic human sympathy you thought. Hating him is one thing, but him dying is another.
The game ended and you witnessed the man who warned about the game, you see his number was 456 and another, a woman helping a man who got shot in the leg reach the finish line get shot in the head.
This isn't just a game. This life or death. Everyone including you who passed were allowed to go back to the dorms.
Zoned out walking, seeing bodies and blood, you hear your name being called.
"Y/N!"
Turning around to see who called your name, you see Myung-Gi run up to you.
"Hey, are you okay?"
A light smile came from your face.
"Yes I'm alright and you?"
"Alive thank God." He chuckled.
You chuckled lightly but didn't know what to say after. Usually, you would have something smart to say to him but after what happened, you wanted nothing more to be out of here.
There were yelling and shouts to how the man knew they would shoot if you lost the game. They were accusing the man of being behind the game.
A pink guard then came out and congratulated us for completing the first game. It then if a majority voted to O, you could leave the game.
Everyone chose their own sides O and X. You chose X, even though you desperately wanted the money to be able to move to another city. You see Jun-Hee, his other ex, chose X too. Myung-Gi chose O, which you weren't surprised.
Unfortunately there were more O's than X's which meant you had to stay. You were heartbroken but also upset and turned to Myung-Gi. Now you wish he died in the first game.
You went up to him and turned him around aggressively and slapped him across the face. People looked at you guys, but you didn't care.
"You're really that selfish, you had to choose O?"
"Y/N-"
"The mother of your child is in this game and you choose O. I should have known from the start dating you was a bad idea. If these games don't kill you, I will."
You stormed off away from him and went to your bed. Myung-Gi probably thought you were bluffing about you killing him.
Something deep down you wanted to keep that word true.
It looks like you'll have to wait and see the next day.
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𝙽𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙹𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!
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itneverendshere · 3 months ago
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you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker
i'm a sucker for these three dynamic ���😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂
you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.
No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.
Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?
You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.
You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.
You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it. 
Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.
The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter. 
"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest. 
You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this. 
He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.
He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.
He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?
Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.
"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"
Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."
"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”
He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.
“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.
JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.
“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”
He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.
You always do.
The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.
“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.
You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.
JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”
He arches a brow. “Free beer?”
“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.
 “But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”
JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”
Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”
JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.
You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.
Great.
He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.
But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”
He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him. 
You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.
Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.
Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.
You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”
Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.
“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.
Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”
JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”
“Don’t make me punch you in the face."
JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”
Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”
JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”
Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”
He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.
Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.
“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”
Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”
You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”
“How much I love you.”
JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”
Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”
Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"
JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”
“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”
Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.
His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”
JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”
But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”
Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”
“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”
JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”
“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”
He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.
Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”
You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”
Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”
“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”
JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.
Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”
Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”
You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”
Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”
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cherie-doll · 26 days ago
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:o Im curious, how do you think the cod men would react to their kids wanting to be like them or having interest in joining the military?
hmm
༊࿔ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto
࿐ Price...
all his life he's had to look out for others, his shoulders have been tense and heavy with the burden of worrying over his team, he's got them through tough moments
and now his children want to do the same? he honestly had hoped those days of distress were over for him, but it seems as if life was barely giving him a break, a moment's peace before it all went back to the way it was
like the loving father he is, he'll speak with them, try to figure out their true thoughts and goals in life, what they think is happiness and how they'd want to achieve it
he won't let them go on ignorantly, they deserve to know the ugly side of it all, but he knows he won't be able to shield them from everything or forever, which is why he must capacitate them to handle life and navigate through the chaos of it
࿐ Simon...
i think y'all remember how he traumatized those children when he told them his life story, you remember how stunned and heartbroken you were when you listened to him explain it you all in one sitting, if it was too much for you to take you know he has no business telling that same story to his kids as well
thankfully he didn't have any of that planned, still he wanted to gently discourage them from pursuing that path, sure he made it out alive but were the injuries even worth it?
they have been blessed with such a great start in life, a loving set of parents who show them what being gentle and kind is, who are willing to lead them through life and protect them from any evil in this world
they don't know how good they have it, and he'd like to for them to sit and ponder a bit more before they reach the brink of diving headfirst or not
࿐ Johnny...
his boys are always asking to go see his friends he still keeps in contact with because hearing only his side isn't enough for them
you can't help but sigh at their recklessness sometimes, they can be too much when they play pretend to be on missions like their father has told them, trying their best to recreate every scene they can remember
you roll your eyes even more when their father joins in, adding in more realistic dialogue and details that make them squeal in delight at how much fun they're having
it's endearing seeing them bond like this, maybe one day they will grow up into what they dream to be, they've got a father they take after in almost every aspect
you know he'd help them reach the stars if they truly wanted, he'll make them believe they can do everything they want to
࿐ Kyle...
he smiles fondly and caresses his daughter's face, "i'm very flattered" he'll say gently so as to not crush her dreams
he knows how much hell he went through, how much worse some of the people he's worked with had it too, and he understood their pain, all of it and tried to help as much as he could
she asks how it was like for him and he doesn't want to sugarcoat any of it because he knows how necessary some details are, still he omits the most gruesome parts
he knows as time passes he'll be able to explain to her in more detail, he'd rather she look up to someone else maybe you, you've been a great parent and partner to him and he couldn't imagine a stronger person than you
࿐ Roach...
he wouldn't want it to be true for anything in the world, this could just be a phase, right? many kids like playing with toy guns and pretending to fight, so he can only hope his kids will grow out of it collectively
the fear and anxiety that ripples through him is too much and you have to hold and calm him down before his mind can spiral too much, "you're thinking too far ahead" you tell him
also, maybe his kids won't get as involved as he thinks they'll be, he remembers the years it took for him to get to where he was, unless they had a strong determination they would lose interest before getting too involved, or at least he hopes
in the end, he learns to accept what may come, they look up to him after all, aren't they only trying to follow what they think is a good example?
࿐ Alejandro...
his kid didn't show much of an interest until they were entering their teenage years, and, as a father, he'd be neutral about it likely, maybe a slight inclination to disagreeing
would sit down and have a long and honest conversation about the topic with his son, he would bring up personal stories that his son hasn't ever heard before
"in the end, it's up to you, mijo" is all he says when he gets up from the chair and leaves his son deep in thought
he may voice his concerns to you and you try your best to listen to your husband, after all he can't help but worry about his kid, just know what whatever path your child decides to take he'll be right there to back them up no matter what <3
࿐ Rudy...
as supportive as he is, he wouldn't want his kids to see all that blood and death, to deal with what he's had to, he knows where his kids will want to reach, they want to be just like him
he sees the good intentions in their little tender hearts and commends them for wanting to help the world, just this isn't the way for them, and when they exclaim and whine he explains with simple analogies to make them understand
doesn't a nurse carry out her duty just as well as a soldier does? should she be ashamed because she's not on the battlefield taking bullets to the chest like the soldier is?
the soldier finds comfort in her, just like how he found comfort in you, how many times he's buried his head into your shoulder when it all felt like too much :((
it's not shameful nor selfish to not want to fight, some problems may be resolved with peace
࿐ Phillip...
either he'd be really proud or would ask if they really wanted that, the "try it out and see if you like it" type, he bets they wouldn't last a second on the job, some just aren't built for it
but in case he does encourage it, you'd probably have a ton of headaches just dealing with the delusions he's putting into your kid's head
he would be trying to build their character and toughen them up, he finds it touching that the kid will want to be like him, well who wouldn't?
would buy the kid their own uniform and everything just so he can take pictures and show it off to his shadows like "one day this kid will be yelling orders at ya"
maybe even take the kid down to the base on days where he'll be doing paperwork and let him run around pretending to be commander
"it's harmless" is all he tells you when you try to hold him accountable for it
࿐ Makarov...
he certainly does not want his children involved in any dirty business, he gets them everything they ever need so they won't have to stain their hands with blood
if anything he tries to hide that double life of his from them, you know how much he cares for them and if anyone found out he even has children much less are out in the open to kill... he'd be destroyed
"it's not something you should do" the advice he gives is more for their concern than anything, there's a lot of stuff he can't tell them even when they demand more information, some things are too much for children to handle
instead he'd like for them to shift their focus on studying or something that won't make them feel guilty down the road, he seeks your support during these times
for he knows what he's worked so hard to hide can be taken away from him in an instant, and these children don't have a clue about it
࿐ Keegan...
he'd say no so fast, but he sees the way his daughter looks at the guns and rifles he has from when he used to fight up on the garage wall, he sees how at the toy isle she picks out a tank instead of a house for her dolls
he's seen how she pulls his old balaclava over her face and look in the mirror when he's passing by her bedroom, how every time they play fight she seems to know where to hit, where is she learning this from?
but she just wants to be like her father who "has saved the world"
he knows he can't stop her from a decision she wants to make but will certainly try and open her eyes more to the truth of it, hopefully she can fully understand by the time she's old enough
࿐ König...
he's been through stuff but he's proud of it, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that his kid will naturally want to follow in that path
he even taught her to fight and stand up for herself since before she could properly walk, she of course wants to be strong like her father
however, he recognizes he used to be weak before he could be tough and an innocent child will surely be swallowed whole by the cruel world
he's had disappointment from not getting what he wants so he's had to be content with becoming the best at what was given
if his child is to face that same world, he'll help her toughen up, to not let a stab at your side bother too much, to learn to prove others wrong
he'll teach her how to fight her way to the top
࿐ Horangi...
he only got into this field because he was leading a terrible life that was going off the rails
and he hopes the love and care that he gives his child won't make them take desperate decisions
on that note, if you currently reside with him in Korea he knows the service will be mandatory, but what if the child has intentions of staying even after the required 18 months is over?
whatever path his kid chooses he will try his best to raise a confident kid who won't throw himself out to the world without a plan
just because horangi didn't have one yet got his life together he advices his child that he still wasted a lot of time
overall, he'd be okay with it
࿐ Nikto...
it's been drilled into him from childhood to be proud of his country and want to serve it one day, however, he realizes it's glorified
it's never how you think it's going to be, and unfortunately he's experienced that gruesome side, it's what left his face and body all torn and his mental health even worse
he won't let his child be pushed into it, sure be useful where you need to be but don't go blindly believing you can be a hero or someone that will be recognized nationally
no one sees the effort or the blood and sweat that you spill and no one will bend to pick it up, they won't see you break under that forcing hand
he'd strongly advice against it
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bloodwrittenletters · 2 months ago
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KISS ME ONE MORE TIME
pairing . . . percy jackson x fem!mortal!reader
the cassette playing . . . waiting room! phoebe bridgers
the letter reads . . . perseus jackson was supposed to die at 16, not get a girlfriend who he could break.
warnings . . . angst, cursing ( slightly ), slight nsfw ( making out ), ptsd ( post-traumatic stress disorder ), survivor's guilt, mention of suicidal thoughts
a/n . . . hi guys! sorry it took me a little more than what I said to get it published, I got an emergency and didn't have time to work on it (everything is alright 🫡) I REALLY liked how this turned out, I love the son trio SOSOSO much so of course I had to give them a little mention, hope you all enjoy it!! actual part 2 is on the way, I promise :pp also, this doesn't really follow the canon, so just fyi!!
a continuation of this . . .
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percy jackson knew he loved you the moment he laid his eyes on yours.
because they were pretty, full of light and happiness, two orbes made out of pure beauty that were protected by soft eyelashes.
and percy jackson was a sucker for pretty things. or he was a sucker for you in general, because every milestone he had given you with his hear full of hope (because, yes, he had saved a lot of his firsts for only you), or because for the first time in his life, he had allowed himself to want something for himself. only for him.
since he was twelve everything— everyone had told him he was going to die soon, 'you're not gonna make it' 'you're too weak to be the hero of the prophecy' 'you will die alone, just how you started' blah, blah, blah. it didn't matter, he knew he was doomed to die soon, and for a long while, he wanted it, too.
percy started the end of his life at twelve, and by the time he was fourteen he was exhausted.
he worked himself to exhaustion each summer, picking up on more quest (or forcing himself in some, for a little while), not even allowing himself to break after each loss.
luke, chris, bianca, zoë, lee, charlie, silena, ethan...
it was all his fault, they were supposed to live, even if one of them made it out alive, it was his fault they didn't have a better life— the one they deserved.
he lost so many people. and everything in his birthday, like fate wanted to remind him that this was his fault. for all the time where the camp was in Manhattan, he even had forgotten it was his birthday, he was too busy focusing on trying to keep everybody alive to remember his day.
for a moment, percy felt bad for forgetting, and for the next one he just wanted to cry and find his mother. he wanted to be six again and be smothered by sally in Montauk, while they were away from the hell of house that smelly gabe had made.
that couldn't be, though.
percy jackson had found you, passed out on the streets of new york, holding bags of gifts and a boque of blue roses and lilies, all of which you had gotten for him.
"no, no, no, no," he breathed, repeating the word over and over as he laid his hand on your forehead. "please... j-just—" he cut himself off when his thumb rubbed on your pulse point. "you're good, yeah?"
he left a soft kiss on your forehead, before pressing his hear over your heart, sighing when he heard it beat loudly.
listen to me, i'm here, i didn't leave.
percy gently detached your hands from the bags, grinning at your hard grip, as if you didn't want to lose what you've gotten him.
"i'm not taking them from you, sweet girl, let me hold you, please," he whispered to you, holding you up on his chest, and grabbing your things before taking you to the Empire State Building.
if olympus were to fall, it would be after overcoming hundreds of demigods; that was the only safe place for you.
the rest was the usual for a hero, his beloved one waking up to his breakdown and being convinced to date. usual stuff. happens every tuesday in your local divinity show to your favorite sweetheart. you pick it.
he celebrated every day of dating you differently, but all started with soft, gentle kisses.
though, your second month anniversary had gotten... a little heated.
"you're so beautiful," he murmured against your neck, kissing the exact vein he had rubbed to make sure you were alright two months ago. then, he left wet kisses up yor neck and jaw before kissing your mouth. "i'm so grateful for you, baby. so, so grateful."
"pers—"
"what do you need, sweet girl?" percy gently shifted the both of you, grabbing his stuffed penguin and turning it around, before looking at you with a grin. "we don't want to traumatize him," he said as he kissed the corner of your mouth.
there were soft giggles between the two of you, before percy took a hold of your jaw and tilted your head, kissing around your adam's apple with wet lips, gently nipping the skin with his teeth, giving you a tiny smile when you digged your nails into his shoulder, creating soft crescent moons into his skin.
"so, what was it, angel?"
"hush, your lips made me forget."
percy wiped his head out from the crook of your neck, and pressed his big smile against yours.
it was one of his favorite memories with you, one hera couldn't take away from him as well as a lot of his memories.
there were only two things he was able to keep, your name, and the soft memory of your lips.
his only two amulets against all the hardships he faced in the little time he wasn't asleep.
"you should really consider calling home," frank, of course, had called after percy when he was slipping away into the endless pit of loneliness that had grown into his chest.
green eyes met brown ones, and soon percy's eyes had the water his irises imitated.
frank stepped forward and wrapped an arm around percy's body, and then the other, hugging him tightly as he held percy through cries.
"i miss her so much," percy voice was broken and low, yet the words cut through sobs.
"i know you do."
"y-you would love her, and she would love you," percy cried harder. "i.. i'm sorry, frank."
when percy tried to pull away, frank held him tighter.
"you're okay, percy, just cry until you feel a little better."
frank's body was like a living teddy bear, warm and safe, soon percy was gripping the purple shirt as he cried in his friend's shoulder, breaking apart after months— years, of holding it together.
every day for all the months he was missing had taken form of tears, falling and falling through his cheeks, burning his skin as more and more tears fell.
huffs and puffs, sobs and tears, all fell out of percy. soon he fell to his knees, only being held together by frank.
the boys sat on the sidewalk, frank's hand gently patted percy's head, supporting him through everything.
"t-thanks, frank," percy patted the shoulder his head wasn't resting on. "usually i'm good keeping it together."
"me, hazel and that girlfriend of yours are gonna have a talk about you putting too much pressure on yourself."
"what—"
frank pulled two coins from his pocket, like a magic trick, and offered them to percy.
"call home, percy."
percy looked like a fish out of water, an o instead of a mouth as he stumbled over his words, before swallowing them and grabbing the money, to then run over to the closest phone booth.
he punched in the only number he could remember, being the one from the jackson apartment, and hoped with every bit of his soul for his mother to pick up.
for someone to pick up.
"hi?"
percy wasn't expecting your voice, his stomach fell to the floor, feeling his organs creep and drool around his feet.
he opened his mouth, but then closed. once, twice, until your voice revived the line.
"anyone there? is this just some stupid prank?"
it wasn't. percy almost broke down again, gripping the phone tighter.
please, just say something, he begged himself in silence, feeling like he could pass out in a moment.
"i'm going to hang up if you don't talk soon—"
percy finally spoke up, feeling like he could cry.
"hi, baby... i miss you."
"holy shit."
percy laughed, finally hearing your voice, he just wanted you to beg you to keep talking. to never shut up.
percy laughed, more like a breath of relief.
"hi, pretty girl... can you talk?"
"y-you��� me— percy, oh my god. where the hell are you?! oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod, i'mgoingtocry."
"uhm... well, it's a long story."
there was sobbing on the other line, and percy's knees went weak. he had to take a long drag of breath to stop himself from crying, too.
"sweetie.. please, don't cry, i'm too far away to hold you."
you composed yourself, hugging tightly the blue bunny you had, tears rolling down your neck. you had to focus on him.
"'kay. percy, my love, where are you? i'll tell annabeth and we'll go get you."
"tell her to tell you about camp, and to come get me from camp jupiter."
"alright... we'll meet you there," and before he could fight you on it, you rushed to your next sentence. "i love you, percy jackson. please don't run off to where i can't find you."
holy shit, indeed.
"i... i love you, too."
284 notes · View notes
changbunnies · 2 months ago
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Moonstruck (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Changbin x Ghost Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by corpse bride, horror in a goofy + silly + fluffy sort of way, ghost / human relationship, love at first sight vibes, smut, takes place vaguely during a time where ppl still use landlines more predominantly than cellphones
♡ Word Count: 6.5k
♡ Summary: Changbin is a scaredy cat– and despite that, he likes to read to the deceased in the cemetery, likes to help the souls that may linger there feel less lonely, likes to let them know they aren’t forgotten. His poems of choice are sweet things, full of love and joy– and his utterances of true love stir you; a soul who died before knowing love, and who craves it even in death. And Changbin decides, then and there, that he wants to give you what you couldn’t have in life.
♡ Warnings: discussions about death ofc (reader is quite literally dead and a ghost lol), i thought making reader the ghost instead of bin would be a fun lil twist as that usually isn't the case in fics like these? just wanted to try somethin a lil different :')
♡ Smut Warnings: sweet + tender smut because i'm a yearner for bin first and foremost!, no intended dom/sub dynamics but i did write a lot of bin begging so :), pet names (baby, honey), exhibitionism, voyeurism, some nipple play, mutual masturbation while cuddling
♡ Notes: my kinktober opened up dark but we are returning to standard form with my precious sweet binnie!! i did originally have something dark planned for bin too but i scrapped it pretty early on cause it didn't feel right lol i couldn't do it!! also the poem binnie is reading at the beginning of the fic is "since feeling is first" by e.e. cummings!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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Changbin curses the autumn sun for setting so early– why on earth is it already so dark at 6 o’clock?!
The full moon hangs over him, and gosh, he wishes he could've gotten here earlier in the day– maybe then he wouldn’t still be here, in the local cemetery at night, with nothing but his poem book in hand.
He wishes even more that he at least had a flashlight– but the batteries were drained in the one he has sitting in his car's glove box, and it's not like he can leave spares in there; that's dangerous! So all he can do now is keep turning in the moonlight, trying to get it to hit the page of his book just right so he can keep reading. 
Perhaps the reason he's here is silly, but Changbin fully believes in ghosts. Well, to be more precise, he thinks that there are many souls in the world, and that not every soul is here physically. 
Most souls, he thinks, depart for a better place when their flesh dies, but he also thinks there are many that don’t– many that stick around because there is something they still wish to do, or because they have someone they still wish to see. 
That’s what always brings him here when he can spare a moment from his busy life. Because he believes that if spirits do still linger in this world like he thinks they do, if they haven’t yet found peace and moved on, they must be lonely. 
It must be sad– to exist in the world you once knew, but be unable to interact with it the way you used to. For others to no longer be able to see you, touch you, or hear you.. He doesn’t want anyone, alive or otherwise, to feel forgotten or ignored. And if he can make a difference somehow, in whatever small and silly way it is, he’ll do it; because he’d want someone to do it for him. 
Naturally, he didn’t intend to still be here at night; he just got caught up at work, and arrived here later than he typically would. But still, he didn’t want to just turn around and go home– he promised last week that he’d come back today to read! 
And maybe ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you want to call them aren’t real; maybe he spends his time here reading to nothing and no one. But if there’s even a chance that someone can hear him, and who looks forward to the days he returns to keep them company, then he has to keep his promises. 
Still, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t more than a little freaked out right now. He’s been here during the day plenty of times, and you’d think that’d mean he wouldn’t be scared of the place at night, but oh, you’d be so sorely mistaken. 
He jumps every time the crisp, freshly fallen autumn leaves rustle from the wind, and from every shadow cast from the newly bare tree branches. He constantly glances over his shoulder, alerted from every small noise, whether it be an owl hooting or a cricket chirping.
And when a black cat appeared out of nowhere to bump against his leg, he let out the shrillest shriek before erupting into a fit of sneezes. He even jumped out of his skin from accidentally kicking a can while walking– and why is there litter in a cemetery anyways? Whoever left their trash here is so disrespectful! 
Suffice it to say, Changbin really wants to get out of here– but there’s only one more batch of graves he hasn’t read over yet, and he doesn’t want to skip them over. It wouldn’t feel fair to them, especially not if they're waiting for him– the last thing he wants to do is disappoint someone.
“H-Hi everyone! Changbinnie’s back to read again, uhm– s-sorry I came so late, I’ll still read to you like I promised! J-Just give me a sec,” he says, trying to temper the fear in his voice as he continues to adjust the position of his book in the moonlight. Finally, he finds the perfect position for the moon to make the words in his book clear, and for the shadow he himself casts to not obscure them.
He takes one more tentative glance around, takes a breath to settle his nerves before he clears his throat to start. And thankfully, the fear does naturally start to dissipate a bit as he reads– serves as a good enough distraction from his eerie surroundings. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things, will never wholly kiss you. Wholly to be a fool while–"
Changbin pauses when he hears an unfamiliar sound, goosebumps erupting all along his skin as he looks up from his book. It was a soft, light and airy sound– almost like a voice, though he’s certain it couldn’t have been; because when he looks around, he doesn't see anyone. He’s as alone as he’s been from the start; so he assumes he's just psyching himself out, mistaking the steadily blowing wind for something it isn’t. 
"Aish, it's nothing! Stop scaring yourself!" he whispers to himself before he continues to recite the words on the page. But he pauses yet again when he hears fallen leaves crinkle and a brittle tree branch snap just feet away from him. It spooks him good, it does– and he lets out an awkward laugh at himself when he realizes it was the black cat he saw earlier that made the sound; hopefully it keeps enough distance that he doesn't get the sneezes again.
Looking away from the cat that is currently working overtime to fray his nerves, he turns his attention back to his book. There's only a tiny bit of the poem left to go, and Changbin is confident he can get through it! No more being a scaredy cat over the little things, no more trembling breaths and anxious stutters– he can do this!
"The best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter, which says we are for each other; then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life's not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis."
With a sigh of relief to be finished, he closes his book and prepares to bid the inhabitants of the cemetery, that may or may not actually exist, a pleasant goodbye; and a swear that he's never staying past sundown again. He’ll stay longer next time, he promises, but he has to go home before he loses his mind. 
He really hopes they do exist– he doesn't want to think he stuck around while scared out of his wits for no reason; he hopes someone heard him, and was comforted by his presence. And honestly, he thinks he deserves a pat on the back after all the trials he's gone through in the last 30 minutes!
And as he finishes tucking his poem book in his arm and looks up, he sees someone. Translucent, hazy, floating, just a few feet in front of him– he can see straight through them, can see all the dark trees and short, stone headstones that live in the ground that the figure should obscure were they physically here.
Changbin blinks, almost wanting to cartoonishly rub his eyes and slap his cheeks to make sure he's seeing properly and not losing his mind like he fears. What he does instead is shriek, positively jumps out of his skin once again as he drops his book and falls back on his behind from the fright.
He scrambles backwards, ducks behind a nearby headstone and brings a hand over his racing heart. He takes a few breaths, does his best to calm down before he slowly peeks out from behind the headstone to see if the figure is still there. 
He doesn't see anyone anymore– was he just seeing things? He has been really scared, so he doesn't think it impossible that his mind would start tricking him. But what if he really saw a ghost? The thought makes goosebumps rise on his skin again– God, he needs to go home already. 
"Hello? Can you hear me?" he hears a voice, airy and otherworldly, just behind him. His breath hitches, and hesitantly, slowly, he starts to turn toward the source of the voice. You float there, brows furrowed as you call to him, glowing ever so slightly in the palest shade of blue. 
A chill runs down his spine, and it's not just from how frightened he is– it's because cold air is quite literally radiating off of you. "Y-You– You're– You're a–" You're a ghost, he's trying to say, but the word catches in his throat. It doesn't help that his teeth are chattering now– he can even see his breath with every word he manages to choke out.
And yes, he already thought ghosts were real– the whole reason he comes here to comfort spirits is because he believes in them! But he’s never actually seen one before, nor heard their disembodied voices calling to him. And now that it’s actually happening, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
“You can hear me! I knew it! You can see me too, can’t you?” you exclaim joyously, clapping your hands together in utter delight. You’re less transparent than before, your form less blurry– but you don’t look solid either. If he stuck his hand out to touch you, he’s sure it’d pass right through you. 
He swallows as he watches you dart side to side in your glee, the motions so smooth it’s unnatural. You look around his age, he thinks, though it’s impossible for him to tell exactly how old you are– or rather, were. Your hair is wispy, floats around you in a way reminiscent of being underwater; your long dress does too, light and delicate in appearance. 
“I’m sorry for scaring you, Changbin,” you tell him earnestly as you float down to his eye level, “I didn’t mean to, I just got so excited you could finally hear me– I'm so happy!” 
“You– you know my name?” Changbin questions, bewildered– honestly, he feels like he’s going to pass out. “Of course I do! You come here every week to read to me,” you reply with a giggle, as if the idea that you wouldn’t know his name is a silly one.
“O-Oh, right, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he mutters. He’s still shocked, but he’s not as scared as before, and he manages to relax just a little. “You, uhm– you listen to me read often then..?” he follows up hesitantly; and it’s probably such a silly question, but you’ll have to forgive him because he’s never had a conversation with a ghost before. 
“Yes! I love when you come to visit and read your poems, it always makes me happy,” you tell him, adjusting your position so you’re sitting down with him– though you aren’t actually sitting on the dirt like he is, but levitating off the ground.
You introduce yourself after that, smile happily when he repeats it, because it’s been oh so long since someone said your name. “If you’re always here, why couldn’t I see you before?” Changbin can’t help but ask after, because now that the fear is dissipating he’s full of questions he wants to ask you.
“Well, the conditions have to be right! You can’t see me when it’s bright out, and you never stay 'til dark. And now I know why, scaredy cat,” you tease him, giggling when he pouts and huffs. You honestly find it endearing that someone as seemingly strong as Changbin is so easily frightened by little things.
“Hey, you’d be scared too!” he complains, though he can’t help but smile as you keep giggling at him. He never expected to befriend a ghost, but you’re obviously a kind spirit, and your delight to be talking to him is evident. And now that he’s over the shock and the fear, and really looks at you, he thinks you’re pretty too– beautiful, even. 
Is that strange? Maybe; but you are still a person at the end of the day. You float, you’re a little transparent, you glow pale blue and cold air surrounds you, but you’re still a person.
And at the same time, he can’t help but feel sad too– death comes for everyone, he knows, but it feels unfair that someone like you is already gone from this world. Someone as young, kind, and beautiful as you should’ve lived a long, full life.
“You need to have strong emotions to manifest, y’know? And the moon helps– when it's full like this, it gives me more energy than I usually have,” you continue to explain when your giggling subsides, and Changbin hums contemplatively, thinking for a moment before he responds.
“You have strong emotions then? Something that keeps you here?” It makes sense that you would– as far as he knows, strong emotions are the only things tethering spirits to the physical world; so if you’re not at rest, it has to be because there’s something within you that feels unresolved, something you needed or wanted but never obtained. 
Tentatively you nod, fiddling with your fingers and averting your gaze slightly. “I do, but.. It’s– it’s silly,” you mumble, and Changbin’s previous lighthearted, curious expression shifts, suddenly turning serious as he gazes at you with a slight frown.
“If it mattered to you– if it still matters to you, it’s not silly,” he says, and the sincerity in which he says it would make your heart race if you were still alive. If you’re being entirely honest, you’re in love with Changbin– and that’s part of the problem.
When you were alive, all you’d ever wanted was love– to meet someone that knocked you off your feet with just a glance, someone sweet, sincere, and tender. Someone that you could marry someday, maybe start a family with while living together in a quaint little idyllic house. 
But that never happened– and the sense of despair and unfulfillment you felt from having your dreams taken away from you are what kept you here. You didn’t know what to do when you realized what happened to you– spent your days wailing in frustration and sadness to the few other spirits inhabiting the cemetery with you over the unfair circumstances. 
What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to find peace and move on? Maybe the only way would be to learn to accept it– accept that your dreams would never come true, and just let them go. You didn’t want to, but if you kept holding onto them, who knows when you’d finally move on from this world? 
And around the same time you were grappling with such thoughts and feelings is when you first saw Changbin, who came to the cemetery for no reason other than to give you and the other inhabitants some company. And he wasn’t talking only to you, but it always felt like he was– like every word that left his lips was entirely for you alone. 
“I’m here for you, you’re not alone as long as Changbin is here,” “This poem is my favorite, I hope you like it too,” “Did you have a good day today? It’s okay if you didn’t– Binnie’ll hopefully make it better!” 
That’s all it took, really– and suddenly, you weren’t bound to this world because you never knew love; you were bound to this world because you felt it too much. You love him; not just because of his sweet personality, but every little detail about him– from the swoop and curl of his hair, to his chubby cheeks, to his cute, pretty and pouty lips. 
And you long to kiss him, but Changbin is alive, and you very much aren’t anymore– and there’s no way he’ll fall in love with a ghost. Still, you believe him when he says that what binds you here isn’t silly– or that he won’t think so, at least. 
“It’s just.. Well, I can’t have what I want, I know I can’t, but I still want it anyways; like, even though I should just let it go, I can’t bring myself to. I think that’s why I’m still here,” you tell him, deciding it’s best to keep your desires down to their vaguest parts.
Changbin is sweet, and he looks at you with so much care that you’re certain he’d be understanding and sympathetic, but it’s probably for the best that you don’t pour your heart out beyond that. 
“Is there really no way for you to have what you want? If there’s anything I can do to help, you can tell me! I’d do my best,” he expresses sincerely, and though you can’t physically cry anymore, it almost makes you feel like you will. He’s just too sweet, you can’t take it.
“M-Maybe, but I wouldn’t ask for it,” you reply, and his brows furrow a little. “Why not? You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I hope you know that I mean it when I say I'd be happy to help you," Changbin says, smile so patient, gentle and sweet that it if you were still alive, your cheeks would definitely be heating up right now. 
Should you give it a shot? What's the worst that could happen? You're already dead, so it's not like you can die from embarrassment if he shuts you down. The worst he can say is no– and that would be okay too, because maybe with his rejection you'd finally be able to let go of what keeps you here.
“You could.. kiss me?” you say after a moment of hesitation, and Changbin almost squeaks from how surprised he is, blinks at you with the cutest flustered expression you’ve ever seen.
“Th-That’s– that’s what you want?” he stutters out, and even in the low light of the moon, you can tell he’s blushing, the soft pink spreading over his cheeks and crawling up to the tips of his ears.
“It’s– it’s what I wanted when I was alive. To kiss someone I love, I mean,” you answer, and it gets Changbin’s heart racing. Not just that someone as pretty as you, ghost or not, wants to kiss him, but the implication that you love him that definitely wasn’t missed by him. 
“It was the poems, wasn’t it?” he says with a bashful little downturned smile a moment later, and you laugh, in your delightfully light and airy way as you nod. “They helped. But really, I just think you’re very cute– and very sweet.”
It’s a little strange, being complimented like this by a ghost, and learning that said ghost has very deep rooted feelings for him– but he likes it. And maybe it’s a little unorthodox, but he’d be happy to give you what you want; especially if it will help you find peace.
“I’ll kiss you,” he tells you, and it’s not because he feels obligated, or like he should– it’s because, believe it or not, he sincerely wants to. He thinks you're pretty, you're sweet and earnest, and you love him– so who cares if you're a ghost; why shouldn't he kiss you?
“A-Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” you assure him, and Changbin smiles at you as he nods, entirely certain. “I know I don’t have to. I want to kiss you.” Your spiritual heart soars and burns with joy– and slowly, timidly, you return his smile before you float your way closer to him, and reach your hand out to touch his cheek.
He doesn’t feel your touch, not really– just the cold that pours from you. Regardless, he closes his eyes for you, purses his lips and slightly tilts his head the way he would if he were kissing anyone else. And again, he doesn’t feel your lips, but the cold– that is, until the feeling suddenly starts to become fuller. 
Slowly, he can begin to feel the way your hand rests on his cheek, can feel your lips slotted against his. He can feel your other hand resting on his chest, right over his heart, can feel the weight of your body on his lap, and he shivers– not because of the cold, but because he can actually feel you now.
Instinctively, he moves his hands to try and touch you– and is pleasantly surprised to find he can. His hands don’t phase through you like he thought they would earlier– he can feel you under his fingertips, as if you’re just as corporeal as he himself is. And so he holds you close, kisses you slow and sweet, over and over until he’s out of breath. 
“You’re still here,” he can’t help but whisper when he pulls away; he half expected you to dissipate the moment you got what you wanted, though he’s not sure if that’s actually how it's supposed to work. And he’s left with a strange feeling– on one hand, he’s sad for you because he really did want to help you move on. On the other hand, he likes that you’re still here, that he can still see you and feel you. 
In reality, you feel like his kiss tethered you even more to the physical world. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and instead of it giving you the peace you needed to move on, it bound you here stronger. You're filled with a strong desire to remain here, to be with Changbin, and you feel that it has made you manifest more than you’d ever been able to before. 
You’ve tried many times before, but have never been able to manifest yourself this much; to the point that not only could you be seen and heard, but felt– and whether it’s because the full moon is helping, or because Changbin’s kiss gave you more energy and purpose, or a mix of both, you’re happy.
“I think I like you too much to move on.” you tell him, and he giggles as he squeezes you closer, his nose scrunching cutely whilst he hugs you. 
“I’m sorry– I feel like I shouldn’t be, but I’m happy you’re still here,” he says, and you shake your head, returning his smile as you share the sentiment. “I’m happy I’m still here too.” 
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It’s a bit strange, having a ghost for a partner. Sharing a kiss attached you to him; and no longer bound to your grave, but to Changbin himself, now you go wherever he goes. You don’t need to always be right on him, of course– but you do have to be close; and every time one of you steps too far out of that radius, you always end up snapping back to him. 
It’s a generous radius, really– you can go several miles before the invisible tether connecting you snaps you back to his side. It’s more than enough for you to exist in his house while he goes to work– and really, he’s happy to share his home with you; he’s sure it beats staying in the cemetery all day, every day. 
And even when he can’t see you, whether because the sun is too bright in the sky or because you don’t have enough energy to manifest that day, he can feel you– and you make yourself known in little ways. His house is always cold now, but it’s especially cold when you’re nearby. You flicker his lights and turn his tv screen to static to get his attention, or leave a message in the steam from his hot showers on the mirror. 
He’ll get a phantom phone call to his landline, where all that exists on the other line is static– but even if he can’t hear it, he’s sure at that moment you’re saying something sweet. And while he's mostly used to these occurrences now, he'll still jump when he hears a sudden noise before he remembers it’s you; a tapping on the wood of his bed frame, usually– 8 knocks meant to signify “I love you.”
Nights of the full moon are always when you can manifest yourself the fullest and easiest, and you both take full advantage of the time you have before you eventually start to become hazy and transparent again. Tonight is one of those nights; the moon hanging high, bright and beautiful, illuminating his dark room in the same pretty, pale blue that glows off you. 
“Baby, please–! You’re so cold, warn me first!” Changbin cries when you first touch him. He already knows you’re not going to waste any time in getting to touch him when you first manifest, but the chill that radiates off you still jolts him every time.
“You’re just so warm,” you muse happily as you snake your limbs around him, sap him for all the warmth he’s worth under his fluffy comforter, “my big teddy bear.” He huffs, but smiles as he does– he can’t actually be upset with you, after all. 
“You should let me take your warmth anyways– you were so mean, ignoring me all day,” you pout as you snuggle into him, burying your head in the warm crook of his neck.
“Hey, hey! Don’t say that, that’s not fair! You know I couldn’t see you!” he wails dramatically, and you have to make an effort not to giggle, bury your face further into him so he can’t see you smiling.
Of course, you know it’s not his fault in the slightest that he couldn’t see your or hear you earlier today, but you still like to tease him over it just a little– his reactions to it are always so cute. “So mean,” you repeat, your voice muffled by his sweater.
He knows that you’re doing it to get a rise out of him, and you know that he knows. But he likes doing this with you– it’s silly fun, and he loves the precious smile that spreads on your face when he plays along and inevitably dotes on you while begging for your forgiveness.
“Aigoo, my baby is really upset. Guess Binnie just has to make it up to you, huh?” he says, and you lift your head just enough to peek an eye at him. “Tell Changbinnie what you want, he’ll give it to you. He’s really sorry,” he entices you further, and the cute smile he was expecting and loves so much makes its full appearance.
“Want a kiss,” you say, pursing your lips at him in that cute duck shape as you wait for him to comply. He tries to coo at you, but it comes out more like a giggle before he’s lifting his head from the pillow to kiss you, tender and sweet.
“Do you forgive me now?” he asks when he pulls away, and you hum as you pretend to think about it. “Mm, I don’t know. I think I might need another one to decide.”
Changbin fully laughs then, shakes his head and mutters something about you being cute before he kisses you again. He shifts onto his side as he kisses you, making it easier for you to tangle your legs with his. He hisses when your cold toes touch the backs of warm calves, and you giggle an apology, though he knows you’re not actually sorry about it at all.
You always tell him how much you love his warmth, and how it radiates from every inch of him. And he’ll pout and shout, half-heartedly complain when you surprise him by touching him with your cold digits, simply because he knows it makes you laugh; you both know that in reality, he’s happy to be your personal heater.
He shivers when you snake your hands under his sweater; your hands aren’t as cold as they were when you first touched him anymore, but it’s still enough for goosebumps to follow the path of your fingers– or maybe he just has goosebumps because he likes you touching him.
Changbin gasps when you brush over his peaking, puffy nipples, and you take that moment to slip your tongue into this mouth. He moans when you pinch them between your fingers, tweak and twist just enough to have him squirming.
“Honey,” he breathes in a near whine when you pull away from him to kiss over his jaw, and the scar that sits on his chin, while your fingers continue to play with his body. 
“I missed you,” you speak against his skin as you press kisses along his neck, “I heard you earlier– saw you touching yourself in the shower. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” He whimpers at that, squeezes you where his hand rests on your waist. 
Naturally, the fact that you can hear him and see him even when he can’t see or hear you always exists in the back of his mind. Every time he starts to touch himself, it’s something he considers– and he even likes it; likes knowing you’re there, watching and listening.
“I’m sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whines an apology, though he knows he doesn’t have to. You’ve both talked about it, of course– how you like watching him, and how he likes being watched in turn. There’s something naughty about it, and it always leaves him feeling extra desired and sexy when you later tell him what you saw, how much you want him because of it. 
And when he feels a sudden chill run along his body and down the length of his spine, is hit with the inexplicable sensation of being watched, he knows it’s you. It always fuels him, makes him fist his cock faster and run his mouth, hoping you like everything he’s spilling.��
Really, it’s no wonder that you always jump his bones the minute you can. Changbin thinks he’d go insane if the situation were the opposite; if he could see you touching yourself, could hear every little noise of pleasure you release, and not be able to join no matter how bad he wanted to. He’s already desperate for more intimacy with you as is– he doesn’t think he’d be able to take it. 
“Can you do it again? Touch yourself with me right here?” you ask him, and he can’t help the way his face flushes as you continue, “I want you to see me watching you this time.” You can feel the way his heart thumps in response to your request, how it picks up speed ever so slightly before he answers. “Y-Yeah, I can– I can do that for you, honey.”
You meant it when you said you like watching Changbin get off. You like watching his honeyed skin slowly take on more and more pink as he strokes his cock. You like watching his broad chest puff out, his stomach clench, his toned arms flex with every motion he makes.
You like watching the sweat build on his brow, and like to listen to his moans become more breathy and whiny as he gets closer and closer to release. And though Changbin isn’t naked now, you’ll still enjoy watching all the same; because he's beautiful, and handsome, and so utterly perfect when he's feeling good.
He reaches between your bodies, manages to get his pajama pants and underwear down just enough to release his still hardening cock from their confines. He bites his lip as he takes the short length in his hand, looks down at himself as he strokes it slowly before looking back at you.
There’s still enough lingering sensitivity from before that he squirms more than usual, but that’s not all there is to it– it's your attentive stare, the way you gaze into his eyes as he moans before you trail them away to watch him stroke himself, and back again. And you’re so close, body so tangled with his, that his fist keeps bumping into your thigh with each pump of his cock. 
Changbin keens when you kiss him, so affectionate and tender that it makes his head spin. You can feel his thighs twitch as he starts to stroke himself faster, and you pull away to watch for a few moments before you tilt your head back up to kiss him again. He's fully hard now, dripping pre-cum so steadily that the glide of his hand becomes slick and effortless.
He whimpers when you pinch his nipples again, parts his lips so you can slip your tongue back into his mouth. His breathing becomes steadily harsher and uneven, his every moan and whimper muffled by your lips against his. He brings his other hand to your ass, squeezes it as he pulls you even closer to his body, as if the fact that you're not already mere inches apart with your limbs tangled together is enough for him.
And truly, he can't get enough of having you close like this. The way you kiss him, touch him, look at him, all while he’s stroking his cock for you– it really does something to him; makes him feel so good and so desired that he swears he could cum purely from the intimacy of it alone.
“You too, please?” Changbin pleads in a breathy exhale the next time you pull back from kissing him, “Please, want to watch you too.”
“Yeah? You want to watch me?” you smile, almost giggle from the eager nod and the whiny, desperate “please, want it so bad,” he gives in response. You’re sweet to your Binnie, oblige him in an instant, and he watches with eager eyes and bated breath as you dip your hand between your bodies.
Even with your dress already hiked all the way up your thighs, you’re so closely pressed to him that he can’t get a clear sight of your pussy; but watching your hand will be enough of a view for him. He'll be able to tell what you're doing, and that's all he really needs.  
All you can reach while this close and tangled together with Changbin is your clit, and he watches you shudder at the first bit of stimulation to it from your fingers. He mimics what you’d done– alternates between watching your face and your hand, and God, every time your eyes meet again it takes his breath away. 
It’s not the same as if you had a physical body like his– your face doesn’t flush, you don't sweat from exertion, and you don’t grow breathless the way he does, but you feel the pleasure all the same. He can tell from the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your body, and the bite of your lip as you gaze at him.
And you're so pretty, face so close to his that your foreheads touch, that his every breath tickles you. "Oh my god, baby–" he whimpers when you start to moan with him, picking up the pace of your hand when he does, matching his speed.
It makes him dizzy– because when he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s inside you; pretend that the sloppy, squelching sounds his fist creates are from your pussy instead. He can pretend that when you moan and whimper, it’s because he's stretching you out perfectly and hitting your spot just right. 
He holds your gaze when he opens his eyes again, completely stops watching the motion of your fingers between your legs so he can strictly observe you, take in your pretty face and how you look when you're feeling good with him. It’s intimate, staring at you like this; it makes him squeeze his cock tighter, the motion of his fist quickly becoming erratic as he drives himself closer to release. 
“Does it– do you feel good?” Changbin asks, because even though he knows, he still wants to hear you say it. “Do you like this? Tell me– please tell me.” 
“Feels so good, Binnie, love this, love you so much– you can’t see it, but I always touch myself with you like this, always make myself cum watching you,” you tell him, and he whimpers from your admission, high-pitched and squeaky. 
“Oh, ‘m so close– will you cum with me? Please, need you to cum with me,” Changbin whines and pleads, every inch of his body trembling as he tries to hold his orgasm back long enough to hear your answer. 
“I will, ‘m gonna cum for you, Binnie, just for you,” you promise, reaching your free hand out to cup his face, keeping your eyes locked with his as you watch each other unravel. Your paces are frantic now, bodies bucking together with every combined motion of your hands between your tangled legs. 
You lean forward to kiss him just as your high takes you, and it sends him right over the edge with you, eyes rolling back before they flutter closed. Noises of pleasure muffled by each other’s lips, his hips jolt as his cum spills over his fist, onto your thighs and the hand you have nestled between them. 
He’s sure some of it got on his comforter too, but he doesn’t care– he just keeps kissing you as he comes down from his high, because despite how breathless he is, it's all he wants to do. “I love you so much,” he tells you after another sweet kiss, and you smile at him, tell him you love him too as you wipe the sweat sticking his curly hair to his forehead away. 
You stay like that the rest of the night; tangled together, hugging each other close and kissing tenderly until Changbin’s fatigue prevents him from doing so any longer. He falls asleep like that, holding you to his body as much as he can; and even when your physical form starts to dissipate with the rising of the sun, you stay right against him.
When he wakes in the morning, he can’t see you anymore, but he knows you’re there. He tells you he loves you, and he smiles when you reply with your 8 little knocks to his bed frame. He talks to you throughout his morning, as he always does, because even if he can’t see you, he knows you’re listening. 
And when he decides to go back to the cemetery to read to the other spirits that still linger there, as he promised them he would, you go with him. He saves your grave for last, and you watch as he puts flowers on your headstone before he settles in to read to you; and even when he can’t see you because the sun is just too bright, he can feel you there, sitting next to him and listening to his poems. 
When he’s finished reading, he’ll feel a sudden touch of cold on his cheek, and he’ll know it’s from you kissing him. He’ll smile, place his hand over the spot and tell you again that he loves you. And when Changbin returns home, and the light of the moon helps you manifest again, he’ll kiss you all over and squeeze you tight, with a million promises of forever on his lips.
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wolverigrl · 3 months ago
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Logan x reader. Logan takes care of his girl having the flu. You know pure fluff, the whole package
Fevered Nights
Logan Howlett x f!reader
A/N: So I tried writing Logan true to character but still having some fluff in it! I hope you like it! <33
Warnings: none
Enjoy!
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The air in the Xavier mansion was always filled with some form of chaos - students running through the hallways, missions being planned in the lower levels, or just the general buzz of mutant life.
Today, though, none of that mattered to me. The only thing I could focus on was the throbbing ache in my head and the thick fog that clouded my senses. I groaned, turning over in bed for what felt like the hundredth time, my nose completely stuffed up and my body feeling like it had been through a war zone.
"Hey, you alive?" a gruff voice cut through the muffled sound of my own misery.
I cracked an eye open and saw Logan standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his usual scowl firmly in place. Even though I felt like garbage, I couldn’t help but smile weakly.
"Barely.." I croaked, my throat raw.
"Yeah, figured. You sound like death warmed over." He stalked into the room, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but I could tell he was concerned. Logan didn’t do well with expressing it, but I could always read him, even when he tried to play it cool.
I let out a miserable sigh, sinking deeper into the mound of pillows behind me.
"I’m fine, Logan. Just a flu. You don’t have to hover."
"I’m not hoverin’." he shot back immediately, grabbing the chair by the desk and pulling it closer to the bed. "Just makin' sure you don’t cough up a lung or somethin’. Charles would have my head if I let you die on his watch."
I rolled my eyes - well, as much as I could manage with the pounding headache. "Right. Blame Charles."
He grunted, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he leaned in, placing a rough but gentle hand on my forehead. His touch was cooler than my fevered skin, and I closed my eyes, leaning into it slightly.
"You're burnin’ up, darlin'. When’s the last time you took somethin’ for it?"
I opened one eye to give him a half-hearted glare.
"I dunno. I’ve been too busy feeling like death to keep track."
Logan sighed, standing up and muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite catch. A second later, he disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the sound of rummaging through the medicine cabinet. It was weird seeing him in caretaker mode.
Usually, it was me who worried about him - after missions, when he'd come back covered in blood (usually not his own) and grumbling about healing too slowly. But here he was, playing nurse, and I wasn’t about to complain.
A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of water and some medicine in hand. He sat back down, holding them out for me and staring at me with that sharp gaze, arms crossed like he was trying to figure out how to fix me just by looking.
I groaned, feeling the pressure in my head pound relentlessly.
"Here." he said, holding the pills out for me. "Take these."
I eyed them skeptically, leaning away.
"How do you even know what I need? You never get sick."
Logan’s lips twitched, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Maybe not, but I’ve had to take care of enough people to know how to knock a flu down." His eyes glinted mischievously as he leaned in closer, voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone.
"Unless you want me to pin you down and push ‘em down your throat for you?"
His words sent a spark through me, momentarily distracting me from how miserable I felt. I knew he was teasing, but there was that unmistakable edge in his voice - the one that always made my heart race, no matter how bad I felt. I narrowed my eyes at him, trying not to show the way my body responded.
"You wouldn’t dare." I muttered, but my voice wavered slightly, betraying me.
He let out a low chuckle, leaning in even closer. "You really wanna test that theory, darlin’?"
I swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his presence despite the fever already burning through me. Logan was all rough edges and danger, but when it came to me, he had this way of softening - and I knew how much he enjoyed pushing my buttons. Even now, with me feeling like death, he couldn’t resist.
"Fine, fine.." I grumbled, snatching the pills out of his hand and popping them into my mouth. "Happy now?"
He leaned back in the chair, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips.
"There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?"
I gulped down the water, glaring at him over the rim of the glass.
"You’re lucky I don’t have the energy to fight you right now."
Logan’s grin widened as he shifted, the chair creaking under his weight.
"Well, when you do, I’ll be waitin’. But right now, you’re stuck with me."
Before I could muster a retort, Logan stood and moved closer to the bed, sitting on the edge of it this time. His large hand came up to my face, brushing a few strands of sweaty hair away from my forehead with a gentleness that always caught me off guard. Despite his tough exterior, Logan had a way of being soft when it mattered - when it was just the two of us.
"Gotta admit.." he murmured, his voice softer now as his fingers lingered against my skin, "I don’t mind takin’ care of you like this."
His thumb brushed along my temple, the roughness of his skin a soothing contrast to the fever burning through me.
My breath caught slightly at the sensation, but I tried to play it off with a weak chuckle.
"I’m pretty sure taking care of a sick person is low on your list of fun things to do."
Logan shook his head, his expression serious now. "You’d be surprised." His eyes locked with mine, that intensity making my pulse quicken again despite the exhaustion weighing me down.
"I don’t mind takin’ care of someone I care about, y/n. Not one bit."
I opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat. Logan wasn’t one for sentimental talk, and hearing him say it, especially in his gruff way, hit me harder than I expected.
He must’ve noticed the look on my face because he smirked again, a more teasing edge returning to his voice. "And besides.." he added, leaning in closer, "this way I get to see you all helpless. It’s kinda cute."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I’m sure me being a sweaty, sick mess is just what you’ve always wanted."
His eyes glinted with something deeper, and his hand trailed down to my cheek, the touch sending warmth through me. "You could be a mess all you want, darlin’. Still wouldn’t change a damn thing."
Before I could react, Logan pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, frowning. "You’re still burnin’ up." He stood, moving with that easy grace of his, heading toward the bathroom. I watched him, confused.
"Logan, where are you going?"
He didn’t answer right away, but I heard the clinking of bottles and rustling of tissues from the cabinet. When he returned, he had a cold washcloth in one hand and a box of tissues in the other.
"Gonna cool you down a bit." he muttered, as though he was embarrassed by the whole thing.
He sat back on the edge of the bed, gently pressing the cold cloth to my forehead. The relief was immediate, and I let out a small sigh as the coolness soothed my fevered skin. Logan’s fingers brushed over my temple again, his touch lingering longer than necessary, and for a moment, it was easy to forget the miserable state I was in.
"Logan…" I started, but my voice caught in my throat. He didn’t say anything, just gave me that intense look, his thumb stroking over my cheek softly before he handed me the tissues.
"Blow your nose, will ya? I ain’t dealin’ with the sound of you sniffling all night."
Despite the gruffness of his words, there was something affectionate in the way he handed me the tissues, watching me as I clumsily wiped my nose. I chuckled, weakly. "Sooo romantic!"
He raised an eyebrow, that smirk tugging at the corner of his lips again. "Just wait 'til you're better. I'll show you romance."
I shot him a half-hearted glare, tossing the tissue into the bin beside the bed.
"I'll hold you to that."
Logan leaned back again, watching me carefully. His eyes softened as he adjusted the cold cloth on my forehead, his hand lingering there a moment longer before he pulled back. "Don’t get used to this." he muttered, though I could hear the smile in his voice. "Just ‘cause you’re sick doesn’t mean I’m goin’ soft."
I snorted, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Logan’s hand was immediately at my back, rubbing small circles as I struggled to catch my breath. Once the coughing subsided, I leaned back against the pillows, exhausted.
"You don’t have to stay, you know." I rasped. "Go do something else. Beat up Scott or... I don’t know, something that doesn’t involve you watching me die of the flu."
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, his eyes flicking toward the door for a moment before returning to me.
"I’m not goin’ anywhere. You know that." He adjusted the washcloth on my forehead again, his fingers brushing through my hair.
"Besides, Scott can wait. You’re the one who needs me right now."
I looked up at him, too tired to argue, but the warmth in his voice made me feel just a little bit better. Logan was rough around the edges, but when it came to me, he always found a way to show how much he cared - even if it was in his own gruff, teasing way.
As I started to drift off again, I heard the door creak open, and a familiar voice filled the room.
"How’s she holding up?" It was Jean, peeking her head in.
"Better now that I got some medicine in her." Logan replied, his gruff tone softening ever so slightly.
Jean walked over, her expression warm as she checked my pulse with a quick touch of her hand.
"You're in good hands. Logan doesn’t let anyone he cares about suffer for too long."
I snorted at that, my voice raspy. "Yeah, he's a real softie."
Logan shot me a look, but there was no real anger behind it. "Watch it, darlin'."
Jean smiled, giving me a reassuring nod before heading back out.
"I'll check in later, Logan. Let me know if you need anything."
Once Jean left, Logan’s eyes were back on me. "Jean’s right, you know.." I murmured, my voice fading as I sank deeper into the bed. "You're not as tough as you pretend to be."
He grunted, leaning back in the chair. "Don’t push you're luck."
I smiled weakly, already feeling the effects of the medicine pulling me under. Even though I was sick, exhausted, and completely out of it, knowing Logan was there - grumpy attitude and all - made it a little easier to rest.
Before sleep took me, I heard him mutter, so low I almost missed it.
"I ain’t goin’ anywhere, y/n. Not ever leavin' you alone."
And with that, I finally let go, knowing Logan had my back, like he always did.
---------------------------------------------------
Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee
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urfavlarry · 10 months ago
Note
Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!
Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3
This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!
Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"
Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"
Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."
Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."
I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;
oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33
warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)
Overlord!Husk x waitress reader
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You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.
Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!
Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.
You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.
Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!
“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.
“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.
Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.
“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.
The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.
The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.
You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.
He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.
“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;
“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”
He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.
It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.
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gyomeisfavoritetoy · 11 months ago
Text
...Uhm...
How do I make this cut off
Demon Slayer NSFW Headcanons ..
Yeah. That.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Douma Hashibara~
When he jerks off, he is fully leaned over. This man has his head on his knees and is panting. His fingers tighten and loosen as he thinks of different people he's screwed. Men, women, people he never could tell if they were men or women...
His favorite position is cowgirl. He loves having his partner above him (if AFAB) and playing with their nipples while they control a pace. If AMAB, he will ride. He opens pinning them down, kissing their hands while he goes at an inhumane pace.
Gyomei Himejima~
He doesn't jerk off unless his S/O has explicitly told him to. He'd rather ignore his aching cock than risk anything.
Oh but with his S/O.... This man's sex drive is low, but when it hits, they aren't walking they next day. He's not rough, he just goes for so *long*. He enjoys spooning while having sex, but will give in and let his S/O ride *rarely*. He's scared they'd go to fast and hurt themselves.
Muzan Kibutsuji~
Has jerked off twice his whole life. Twice. And when he did, he barely was able to orgasm. He now prefers to simply fuck whoever his current wife is.
This man and doggy style. Occasionally will lean over them and pull their hair to make their head bend back. He'll tell them how pathetic they are for letting a man as distasteful as himself pound them. He doesn't care if they orgasm. He is after his own. He will usually orgasm twice before satisfaction hits. His partner usually gets one due to this, but it isn't one they were able to enjoy fully.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki~
Doesn't jerk off. He is too weak. His wife helps any time he's in the mood, which is a lot based on how many kids he has...
Due to his condition, usually sticks to cowgirl with Amane. But before it god too bad, they experimented with everything, trying to find the most fun before he was rendered bed ridden. His favorite back then was lotus. They sometimes try to do it again, but usually he ends up too ill to continue.
Shinjuro Rengoku~
His wife's dead. All he does is jerk off. He usually is lead against a wall, very slowly and lazily rubbing his tip. He doesn't have the will to do much more.
When Ruka was alive, they did eagle the most. They both loved it. He could go many rounds and never slow. Ruka usually used the safeword to end it. He'd stop then and coo and coddle her. (He was happy then...)
Hotaru Haganezuka~
Doesn't engage in sex much. He's too busy. He does occasionally jerk off and when he does, he in a fetal position, muffling his noises. He wants no one to know he whimpers, so he keeps quiet despite living alone.
He's never slept with anyone except one MAN. Yes. Man. Kozo Kanamori. It was a one night stand that ended in Kozo developing feeling and Hotaru being too stupid to realize.
BYE BYEEEEEE
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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months ago
Text
Nothing Has Changed - 12
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Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.
Character: Bucky Barnes
Warning: Angst, Tragedy.
Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.
Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖
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“You did what?” Bucky’s voice echoed through the hotel lobby. His anger was palpable, his frustration clear as he confronted Lydia. He had been swamped with overseeing the construction of the new hospital, unaware of his mother’s latest actions.
Lydia flinched slightly at her son’s outburst. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. She then dragged him into her office.
Bucky’s face contorted with anger and disbelief. “You fired her without even consulting me? Hah!” His laugh was bitter and sharp.
Lydia straightened her posture, trying to maintain her composure. “I am the owner of this hotel. I have the right to make decisions.”
Bucky’s eyes blazed with frustration. “Decisions? You call this a decision? I’m the one keeping this business alive while you squander money on gambling, waste it on frivolous outings with your friends, and spend it on your boyfriends.”
Lydia’s face turned red with anger. “How dare you speak to your mother like that?”
Bucky massaged his temples, clearly exasperated. “Is your allowance not enough that you have to steal money from the hotel?”
Lydia’s voice was icy. “I’m just enjoying my life, and we own the hotel. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong? You’re stealing!” Bucky’s words cut through the air like a knife.
Lydia’s patience snapped. “I can do whatever I want. I am your mother.”
“Don’t play the ‘mother’ card with me,” Bucky retorted, pointing a finger at her. His face was flushed with frustration. “You were never a good mother to me. I was just a tool for you to get his attention.” His words were sharp, each one dripping with hurt and disillusionment.
Lydia flinched as Bucky’s words cut through the air. Her face paled slightly, and she took a shaky step back, her eyes widening in surprise. The accusation hung between them, heavy and accusing. Her posture stiffened defensively as she tried to regain her composure.
Bucky’s face hardened. “You think you can ruin people’s lives and get away with it? I haven’t forgiven you for the lies you told me half my life, and the misery you caused to an innocent person.”
Lydia scoffed, her expression disdainful. “So, this is about that girl?” Her face twisted with anger. “She’s just like her mother.”
"It's not just about her. I'm done letting you ruin everything. The damage stops now," Bucky said coolly, his voice steady and resolute. He shot one last piercing glance at Lydia before turning and walking away, leaving her standing there in stunned silence.
🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀
On the other side, you were waiting for Jake. While waiting, you wondered what you would hear. Would you end up hating the gossip about your mother and her ex-boyfriend, who was also Bucky’s dad?
Jake finally arrived. “Hi. Sorry I’m late. My mother kept talking.”
“That’s alright. But do we have to meet here? At the arcade?” you asked, glancing around.
“Hehe, we have to be on guard. People in this town talk. This arcade is new and only young kids come here,” Jake explained.
He had a point. “So, what did you hear?” you asked.
Jake scratched his head. “Do you want to talk while playing basketball?”
“Fine,” you agreed.
After scoring a few points, Jake started telling the story. “So… my mom was in the same year as your mother and Alex. Both of them were high school sweethearts. She was a cheerleader, and he was the top athlete.”
“Continue,” you urged.
“Everyone thought they would be together until Lydia Barnes decided she wanted to marry Alex. Her father went to the Morris house and proposed the marriage. What made everyone talk was that Alex made it obvious he would never love Lydia,” Jake said, making a shot.
“Both parents thought it was only temporary, but Alex was serious. He didn’t care about his wife. Lydia didn’t care because she was obsessed with him. She never let him go out without her because she was afraid he’d meet your mother,” Jake explained, passing the ball to you.
You never thought Lydia was this obsessed and paranoid about her own husband.
Jake sighed. “The saddest part is when your mother died.”
You flinched, missing the shot.
“Alex went crazy and hysterical. He drowned himself in alcohol,” Jake continued.
“One day, while he was drunk, he went to visit your mother’s cemetery. That’s when the accident happened,” he said.
Your eyes widened. Hearing that your mother was the cause of Lydia’s husband’s death hit you like a ton of bricks.
No wonder why she hated you.
“What about Bucky?” you asked.
“Him?” Jake looked uncomfortable.
“Do you know why he made my life miserable?” you pressed.
Jake got quiet for a second. “My mother mentioned this too. She heard from her friend who worked as Bucky’s nanny. His nanny overheard Lydia telling Bucky that the reason Alex never loved them was because of your mother.”
She has brainwashed Bucky since he was young that the evil person in their lives is your mother.
You processed this information in silence. Bucky grew up in a wealthy household, but despite all the money, his parents didn't live in harmony. His father hated living with them, and his mother had an unhealthy obsession with her husband. Nobody in the house actually cared for him.
So, does that mean the reason he bullied you was because he blamed you for his parents’ issues?
You put down the basketball. “Thanks for telling me.” Slowly, you started to leave.
Jake felt guilty for telling you. “Y/N.”
You turned around.
“None of this was your fault,” Jake said earnestly.
You nodded. “Thanks.” Then you left the arcade.
After leaving the building, you kept walking around, finding it difficult to accept that your life was miserable because of the jealousy of one person.
“Y/N,” someone called out.
You turned around and saw Bucky. You weren't ready to meet him, so you decided to keep walking.
“Wait! Wait!” He chased you until he got close enough to grab your hand.
“Don’t touch me!” You slapped his hand away.
Bucky was surprised by your reaction. “I know you’re angry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that my mother fired you.”
“Yeah, right,” you scoffed.
“Please trust me,” Bucky pleaded.
"I don't trust you at all, especially since your mother is the reason my life is miserable," you said.
Bucky was taken aback, his expression shifting from confusion to regret.
“A stupid one-sided love leading to misery,” you spat. “I know the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You knew?” you demanded.
He gave a slight nod. “That’s why I’m trying to make everything right.”
You gritted your teeth. “Don’t come near me or my father again. Everything you gave, I’ll give back five times more.” With that, you quickly got into your car and left.
Bucky stood there quietly, not chasing after you, his face a mask of regret and sadness.
📺📺📺📺📺
It seemed like Bucky had listened to your words. He didn't come to help your father like usual.
“I wonder what happened to him,” Tom said, puzzled by Bucky's absence.
“Busy, I guess,” you replied while taking pictures of your father's medicine to send to your acquaintance, who worked as an oncologist.
“Hmm… I guess so. His company is building a new hospital,” Tom agreed, taking the TV remote to turn on the TV.
He switched to the local news channel. The news reporter said, " The Bronze Lodge co-owner has been caught embezzling money from the hotel. She used the money to feed her gambling addiction. Additionally, the mayor is being investigated for his connection to the hotel owner."
You and Tom gasped at the news, recognizing the person in question: Lydia Barnes.
“I can’t believe it,” Tom muttered, shaking his head.
You, however, weren’t as surprised. You had suspected it after auditing the hotel’s finances and seeing the irregularities. It was obvious that Lydia had been the one taking the money.
'Knock. Knock.'
Someone knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet house.
You opened the door slightly and gasped when you saw someone standing there. It was Bucky. He looked like a mess, with tired eyes and disheveled hair.
Bucky smiled weakly at you. “I said it before, you could trust me.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine. It dawned on you that he had turned his own mother over to the police.
“Did you do this because of me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky nodded slightly, his eyes filled with exhaustion and regret.
“Did I earn your forgiveness?” Bucky asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes like a lost puppy seeking approval.
You shook your head. “Forgiveness isn’t so easily given. The damage you and your mother caused is still too deep.”
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Extra: I made a quick drawing. This is how I imagined Bucky hoping for forgiveness. Lol. This drawing is inspired by X @sweepswoop_
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Poor Bucky 😂
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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imagine-darksiders · 25 days ago
Note
Tired dad Ulthane and his adventures with the Human Distribution System makes me smile so hard
Whoever was on the Darksiders dev team missed a great opportunity to record ambient voice lines between the humans and Ulthane that play whenever you go to the tree.
Some examples off the top of my head.
"Hey. It's... Ulthane, right? I-I'm Mary."
"Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, Lass."
"Ha... Likewise. Um... Listen, I don't think I ever thanked you... for bringing me to this place. And for, you know, saving my life."
[Suddenly bashful] "Ah, no need to thank me. Just... [clears throat] glad I got to you in time..."
"Yeah... Yeah, me too."
------
"Get out of the way, Ulthane."
"Can't do that, younglin'."
"Bullshit. You can't stop me. I have to go, I can't just sit in this tree while he might still be out there somewhere!"
"If I let you leave this tree, you'll die."
"You don't know that!"
"... And what if he turns up while you're gone? Hm? You think he'd want to find you missin'?"
"Don't do that. Don't use him to make me stay. You don't know what he'd want."
"Would he want you riskin' your life tryin' to find him? Or would he want you to be safe?"
".... I... I.... Oh, Sam."
------
"Hey, how did you get on with that list I gave you?"
"Got most of the stuff on it. The pictures were a nice touch, by the way. Made findin' things a wee bit easier."
"Oh! Well... Happy to help.... So. Um..."
[knowing chuckle] "The supplies are with the other rations, up in the hollow."
"Thanks, Ulthane. You're the best."
"Ach, I don't know 'bout that."
"Literally. The. Best."
------
"Hey you! Giant."
"Tiny."
"Oh, very funny. Say, how come you're not out there searching for more survivors?"
"Just got back. Elanya's goin' out in a bit. Someone's gotta stay behind and protect the tree."
"Some of us can stay and watch it! You should be out there looking for people!"
".... We're doin' everything we can, lad."
"I know!... I.... [muffled sob] I know... I just... I miss her."
"... If she's alive out there, we'll find her."
"Yeah.... sure."
-------
"Hey, big guy? You know there's a demon hanging around right outside the door."
"Aye, I'm keepin' an eye on him. But... if you see him causin' any trouble, you come tell me, got it?"
"Heh. Sure."
-----
"Oi, what's that you've got there?"
"Oh! Um... It's... just a radio... I've been tinkering with it... trying to get it to work. Maybe see if there's anyone else out there... Look. I-I know it's silly, but-"
"No, no, it's not, it's... [deep sigh] Listen, if you... need any help with it, makers are pretty handy. Just have to ask, okay?"
"Oh... Okay. Thanks, Ulthane."
-------
"Still no luck with that... wassit called? A radio?"
"Hmm? Oh... Hi Ulthane. No, no luck yet but... that might just be because they're only able to broadcast on a certain frequency for, like, a few minutes at a time right? Saving power or... something? I-I just need to keep searching."
"Well... All right... But don't stay up too late listen' to it again. You look like you didn't catch a wink o' sleep last night."
"Okay, Dad."
-------
"Say, what happened to your radio?"
"... I tossed it."
"Now why'd you do that?"
"I dunno. Figured it'd be more useful to strip it for spare parts.... I wasn't gonna hear anything on there anyway."
"...Y'know, just 'cause you didn't hear anythin', don't mean nobody's out there."
"..... Hey... Ulthane? Do you think we're gonna be okay?"
"Course you're gonna be okay. You've got me at the helm, don't ya? Old Ulthane's got a plan to set you humans back on track... Just have to trust me, eh?"
"We do trust you. And... thanks. I feel better."
"S'what I'm here for."
-------
[If you find 10 survivors]
"Getting a bit busy in here now, isn't it? A lot of new faces."
"Busy? Hmm. If you need me to carve out another chamber for extra space, I can-"
"-No! Ulthane, that's not... It's okay. I wasn't complaining. Busy is good. I prefer busy."
"... Aye, I'm with you there."
-------
[If you find all the survivors]
"I can't believe there's so many of us now! I didn't think this many people would have survived!"
"Mmhm, the Horseman's been busy. S'nice to have a lot of wee ones knockin' about the tree."
"You make us sound like a bunch of children."
[Gentle laugh] "If you knew how old I was, Lad, you'd feel like a bunch of children."
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riordanness · 10 months ago
Text
all i’ve ever wanted - [w.wonka]
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wordcount: 2.0K
requested: yes! anon <3
warnings: bit of angst and heartbreak
I watch, a smile on my face as Willy walks slowly through the old building.
“So?” Noodle asks expectantly. “Do you like it?” I know how hard she tried to get this for him. She wanted nothing but for him to be happy, and I agreed. Willy Wonka was the kind of person you couldn’t bear to see sad.
“Do I like it?” Willy breaks into a smile. “Oh, Noodle, it’s just as I always imagined. No, scratch that–it’s better than I imagined!”
Noodle grins, and jumps up to give him a hug. I watch them, a twinge in my gut. I think I’d give anything to hug him like that.
Piper lets out a cheer, and Lottie and I exchange a grin.
We had a huge job ahead of us, but with Willy Wonka, I’m pretty sure just about anything is possible.
I stand beside Noodle, cradling a perfect blue chocolate flower in my hands. Willy has his hand on the doors, ready to walk out and announce to the world that Wonka’s Chocolate Shop is officially open for business.
I exchange an excited grin with Noodle, then I turn my focus to Willy. He takes a deep breath, muttering something so quietly that I can’t hear; then he pushes open the doors.
Sunlight filters into the dark room, illuminating the faces of my friends. We’re all holding our breaths in anticipation.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Willy announces, his voice strong and clear. “Welcome to Wonka’s. Incredible things are waiting in store, both literally and metaphorically.”
“What, in there?” A man’s voice sounds incredulous.
“Humour me.” Willy has a smile in his voice.
He leads the older man through the shop, as the six of us light up the building, pulling ropes and shooting strings of sugary goodness into the air. Lottie passes out umbrellas, Crunch and Larry ride the bicycles, and I hand out mini chocolate baskets to the children.
It’s beautiful, and it’s amazing, and I keep finding myself staring at Willy, his face alive with joy and contentedness. This is all he’s ever wanted, and I’m so glad I get to share it with him.
People have begun to line up at the front counter, their chocolate baskets filled to the brim with colourful goodies. Abacus is on the till, typing in numbers, writing receipts and giving out change. Noodle is beside him, handing out smiles.
I spot Willy, standing alone, gazing happily at the joyful customers around him. I trip merrily over, coming to a stop at his side. “Congrations, Mr Chocolatier.”
His smile is warmer than melted chocolate. “Thank you, dear y/n.” His eyes flit once more over the shop, then settle on me. “And thank you, so so much, for doing so much for me and for this shop.”
I laugh, a little awkwardly. “It’s no problem at all.”
“You see, this thing is…” He seems to hesitate, like he’s unsure of what to say.
“Go on,” I say quietly.
“Y/n, I know I have only known you for a short time. I also know that most of that time was spent either scrubbing laundry or you and Noodle trying to teach me to read, but in that short amount of time I have fallen in love with you. I love the way you laugh, and sing, and how you always try to make the people around you happy even if you’re really the one who needs comforting. You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, sweeter than even my best chocolates. I’ve spent my entire life alone and on the move, and now I... I can’t imagine not being in yours.”
He stops, taking a deep breath.
I stare at him, a little bit in shock. “What are you saying?” I ask, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
“I’m saying that I’m in love with you.” He doesn’t meet my eyes, shyly playing with his cane instead.
“Oh.”
His face scrunches a little, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. That probably wasn't the right thing to say.”
“No!” I shake my head adamantly. “No, it–it was perfect, Willy.” I don’t know why I’m so worried about this, but I try for a not-so-nervous smile. “I’m in love with you too, you know. From the first second you fell down that laundry chute. I just didn’t tell you because, well, I didn’t think I would ever be good enough for someone like you, Willy.”
He laughs under his breath. “Y/n, you are the one no one could ever be good enough for.”
“Really?” My voice is small, but I can hear my smile in the word.
“Yes.” He nods, then reaches for me, his fingertips delicately brushing my cheek. I instinctively lean into his touch, and my heart feels full to burst with happiness. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.
And when he kisses me, it feels like my chest is filled with melted chocolate.
Horror fills me as I stare at what’s left of Wonka’s shop. Smoke rises in small, winding columns. Lottie carries a fire extinguisher, putting out any little leftover fires. Melted chocolate, disintegrated sweets, and shattered glass are everywhere.
“What happened?” Piper asks desperately, tears glittering in her eyes.
“The chocolate cartel,” Abacus replies gruffly, wiping the ash from his shirt.
I exchange a heartbroken look with Noodle, watching as she lays a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He’s sitting downheartedly on the floor, his eyes fixed resolutely on the half-melted chocolate cherry tree.
“It’s okay, Willy,” Noodle tries to insist, “we can rebuild.”
“It’s no use, Noodle.” Willy doesn’t even look at her. “She wasn't here.”
Noodle’s face clears in understanding. “You didn’t seriously think that–”
“Oh, I did,” Willy says. “She pinky promised.”
“Willy–”
“Come on, Noodle,” Abacus breaks in, touching her on the arm gently. “I think Mr Wonka needs to be alone.”
Noodle sighs and follows Crunch out, while the rest of the crew silently file after them, leaving just Willy and I.
I sit gingerly beside him. “Are you okay, my love?”
Willy seems to stiffen at my words. “I’m fine. Please, I’d—I'd like to be alone right now. I’ll see you back at the laundry.”
I want to argue. I want to stay. But I understand. “Alright.” I get to my feet, and leave quietly, glancing back at Willy twice. Neither time does he look back at me.
Little did I know that I know that I wouldn’t see him back at the laundry, and that my last image of him was his hunched and upset figure, curled over his knees.
Noodle sits on my bed, watching me. I’m curled into a ball, hugging my pillow close to my chest.
“Y/n,” she says again, “it’s okay. He’s gonna come back.”
I shake my head. “He isn’t, Noodle. You heard Mrs Scrubbit downstairs. He made a deal with the Cartel. He’s gone.”
Noodle sighs. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well you should,” I say aggressively, sitting up. “He left us. He—he didn’t even say goodbye.” My voice breaks. Tears gather in my throat again, and I’m flooded with angry sobs.
“Do you want to be alone?” Noodle whispers.
Just before I can answer, Bleacher bangs on the door. “Time to get up! Mrs Scrubbit wants you all downstairs before breakfast.”
I groan, and pull myself up off my rickety bed. “Come on, Noodle-dee,” I say softly. “We’d better go see what she wants.”
Noodle tries to smile, for me. “Okay, y/n-doo.”
I file after her down the stairs, falling in line with the rest of the laundry crew.
“Look at all the long faces ‘round here,” Mrs Scrubbit says, a glint in her eye. “It’s almost like you lot has a sneaky little plan to escape.”
We line up, facing Mrs Scrubbit. “Your friend, Mr Wonka, done a deal with Mr Slugworth. Settled your accounts. Crunch, you’re free to go.”
One by one, Abacus, Lottie, Piper, and Larry all get a little ticket and leave. Soon, it’s just Noodle and I left.
“And now for you two.” Mrs Scrubbit’s smile is sickly sweet. “The biggest piles of the lot. But these ain’t to let you go.”
“What?” Noodle demands.
“Mr Slugworth doesn’t think nasty little orphans like you should be out on the streets, Noodle. This money is to keep you locked up for good.”
“I hate you!” Noodle shouts, slamming her fists into the bench. “You—“
Mr Bleacher grabs her, holding her arms still.
“Look at her go, Lord Bleacherfitz!” Mrs Scrubbit says gleefully.
“You don’t still think he’s a lord, do you?” Noodle cries. “We made it all up, you stupid old hag!”
“Why you little brat—“ Mrs Scrubbit clutches Noodle by the shirt. “You’re going in the coop, my girl! And you.” She points at me. “To the wash house, forever. You’ll never see daylight again, you hear?”
She drags Noodle away, both of them yelling.
I’m left with Bleacher, feeling as if I have a heavy weight on my chest. I can’t believe he just left us. Got a ticket out of here and abandoned Noodle and I.
I thought… I thought he loved me.
“Down you go,” Bleacher says gruffly. “Now!” He shoves me unceremoniously down the laundry chute, and I don’t even try to stop him. I land in a heap of clothes, and I don’t move.
I stare at the ceiling, at all the washing lines and steaming cracks in the roof.
My head hurts, but nothing compares to my heartache. I don’t think I will ever get over Willy Wonka. He’s the kind of person you only meet once, and you never forget them. Especially if you loved them with your entire heart.
But sometimes people like that aren’t good inside, and they can leave you, hurt and lonely and destroyed.
He’s gone, and I’m alone.
I must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because I rouse when I hear Noodle’s familiar voice. “Y/n, come on!” she hisses, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. “We’ve gotta go!”
I blink sleepily. “Wait, what? How did you—“
“He came back! They all did.”
“He… Willy?” I don’t want to believe it, I don’t want to see him but oh, I do. I do.
Noodle’s curls jump wildly as she nods. “Yes! He’s come back for us, c’mon!”
I follow her to the dumb waiter chute, and we both climb inside, clicking it shut. I press the ‘up’ button, and the crate clicks and shudders into motion.
I’m half excited, half still hurt. I can't decide if I truly want to see him or not. I mean–I’m in love with him, and I have ever since I first laid eyes on the curly headed chocolate boy, but at the same time… He left me, five minutes after confessing he supposedly loved me back.
The instant I see his face, waiting for us at the top of the laundry chute, a bright and anxious smile plastered on his familiar face, I’m torn yet another way. Gods, I’m in love with him.
“Y/n!” he says, grabbing me into his arms the second he sees me. “I’m so sorry–I, are you alright?”
I’m a little flustered, and not quite sure how to reply. “Hi, Willy.”
He must notice my slight stiffness, how my voice is trying its best to emotionlessness. “Hey, I really am sorry. I should never have ever tried to leave. I regretted it instantly. I promise, I will never leave you ever again.”
I look up into his eyes. “You promise?” My voice cracks on the words.
His eyes soften immediately. “Yeah, my love, I promise.”
“Okay.” I decide to believe him, mostly because the thought of being without him again hurt more than the chance of being left again.
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velvetm00light · 3 months ago
Text
Friendsgiving
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gif: pinterest dividers: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism
Chapter Seven of Save Me
Previous Chapters: one, two, three (y/n), three (spencer), four, five, six
Word Count: 1.8k
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: After a comforting morning cooking a dish for Penelope's Friendsgiving, you finally make it to her apartment to spend time with all of your favorite people.
Warnings: Mostly just references bad, consuming thoughts but nothing too serious :)
A/N: I'm sorry for not posting in a while! I've been writing my own book and I'm in pre-med so I don't normally have much free time. But, I want to at least post on here every so often! So here's a good one (hopefully) for ya'll. :)
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YOU SLIP ON your favorite pair of leggings, fuzzy slippers, and Spencer's comfiest crewneck. He peers up at you from tying his shoes and smiles. "You look better in it than I do."
"Good thing I plan on keeping it." You smile.
As soon as he finishes, you follow him out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. You grab the mac and cheese dish you and Spencer had made earlier this morning. "Do you want me to get that?" He asks you.
"I'm a strong girl," you reply. He rolls his eyes playfully and ushers you out the door.
The car ride is short and sweet, he allows you to play whatever songs you want. His hand is placed on your knee, his thumb rubbing soft circles. He giggles at you as you loudly sing songs Spencer never would have listened to on his own. He even asked you to play one again just so he could sing it with you.
When you arrived at Penelope's apartment complex, he turns off his car and looks at you. "If it gets too much or you start to get stressed, just let me know, okay?"
"Thank you, Spence. I think I'll be fine," you reassure. You truly hadn't given yourself the time to think about what happened to you. You pushed all those feelings aside as soon as you woke up in the hospital and refused to touch them with a 10-foot pole. It helped that Spencer kept you busy, kept you safe. You'll spend the night with all your closest friends and feel relieved. You knew any of them would help you carry your burden if you asked.
He gives your knee a reassuring squeeze and hops out of the car. He rushes over to your side before you have a chance to open the door yourself.
"My lady," he bows as he opens the passenger side door.
You gently climb out of the car, careful of the dish in your arms. "My most loyal knight," you smile, mimicking a curtsy like you've seen on TV.
"Lady's don't curtsy to their knights but I'm not complaining."
"Oh, hush, Mr. Knows It All." You would have swatted at his arm but luckily for him, your arms are full.
You hurry up the stairs to Penelope's apartment. But, once you are standing in front of her door, anxiety starts to bubble inside you. You are excited for the rest of the night, but the beginning is what makes you nervous. You knew the team would either bombard you with "are you okay"'s and other comforting words or they wouldn't mention it but would walk on eggshells around you.
Spencer spins you to look at him. "I've got you. You're safe here."
You take a deep breath and try to give him a reassuring smile. "I know."
Spencer lifts his knuckles to knock on Penelope's dull apartment door as you turn back around, steeling yourself for the next few minutes. He only got in a single rapt on the door before it swung open wide, Penelope's red-painted lips drawing up into a bright smile. "You guys came!" She squealed, grabbing the glassware dish covered in tinfoil from your hands.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," you smile, following Penelope to her kitchen island where all of your coworkers are standing around, nursing wine glasses in their hands. A silence falls upon the room, and you quickly break it unable to stand the palpable sympathy in the room. "I'm alive and I don't plan on being babied the entire rest of my life."
"She has been putting up a fight against it," Spencer laughs. The team joins in chuckling, the tension in the air immediately disappearing. JJ takes you by the shoulders and analyzes your face. "I'm glad you're here," she states as she pulls you into a tight momma bear hug. You swear you heard your ribs cracked as she squeezed you.
Your entire team takes turns hugging you and Spencer. You feign annoyance at being treated with such sympathy, but your heart flutters at the overwhelming love your team as for you.
"Who's ready to eat?" Emily asks brightly and immediately your entire team begins to dig into the multiple dishes placed carefully around Penelope's kitchen island. Your mac and cheese sits next to a stuffed turkey, pasta alla vodka which you would bet a million dollars that Rossi brought, and other deliciously smelling meals.
You don't wait to dig in, the days long starvation you suffered only a few days ago has been a consistent hole in your stomach, forcing your body into survival mode whenever you're around food. The choices are overwhelming and you stand frozen in place with a plate in your hand, unsure where to even begin.
"Here, I'll get some for you," Spencer says gently, taking the plate from your hand and pilling some of everything onto your plate.
"Thank you," you whisper. As soon as he finishes, he carries both plates over to Garcia's living room and you follow closely behind. "It was overwhelming."
"I know, I figured it might be easier if I made the decision for you. I also gave you less than you might want because I didn't want you to feel guilty for not eating everything."
Your eyes widen at his statement and he chuckles lightly. "You're not exactly mysterious, y/n," Spencer smiles.
"No one on this team is mysterious," Emily teased. "Everyone knows things they probably shouldn't even know." Everyone laughed and murmured their agreements.
The rest of the team joins you in the living room and everyone is a blur of talking in between bites and even with food in their mouths. Garcia doesn't even take a bite of her food for a few long minutes because she is too busy asking everyone else what kind of holiday movie they're in the mood for.
She finally settles on a silly hallmark movie and you and your team take turns outrageously guessing what will happen.
"I say she goes to this bakery, meets the guy who works there at the counter, and it turns out they're related somehow," JJ explains.
"No, she definitely goes in there, then she talks about how her parents were murdered on Christmas so she hates the holiday, and turns out he murdered them," Derek says, laughter filling the air.
"I'm glad the actual serial killers around the country decided to unite and stop killing for this one day so we could finally enjoy ourselves," Rossi announced. Everyone's head nodded in agreement.
"I miss it," you express, picking at your food.
"Take your time, y/n. There will always be bad guys," Aaron replies, his gaze softer as he looks at you than it has probably ever been in his life.
"I know, I just..it's hard, you know? I miss you guys," you confess. You decide to keep out the fact that you're afraid to be with your own thoughts or to be alone period. You weren't exactly confident in your abilities to deescalate yourself if it were to come to that.
"We miss you too, but it's important to heal," Penelope says softly and you can't help but smile at her contagious optimism.
"I know, I'm going to be upset though if all the extremely bad guys are caught while I'm gone."
"We'll save them just for you," Aaron responds, lifting his wine glass in the air. "I'll let them know as soon as I get home."
You try to enjoy the rest of the night with your friends, every bad thought that appears in your brain you shove into the dark depths where they can't come back out. You try to remind yourself to be happy that you're alive and back with the people who mean the most to you.
As the hours tick by, glasses of wine are drank and refilled, movies are played right after another ends, and the warmth in your heart grows heavier by the minute. You had always ached for friends like this, for nights spent laughing and joking.
Spencer's arm is stretched across the back of the couch behind you, his hand had been restless the entire night, running circles just below the nape of your neck, running a finger down your shoulder on the opposite side, or twirling pieces of your hair in between his fingers. You're unsure if he even knows he's doing it, but either way, you're grateful for the grounding touch. Without Spencer, you fear your thoughts might suck you into yourself so deep you would never see light again.
You allow yourself to think that maybe his touches have been intentional because somehow, he seems to know you better than you know yourself and knows how much you need his touch.
You and your team finally say your goodbyes as your lips feel leaded and threaten to shut on you with no sign of reopening for at least 12 hours.
"Be easy on yourself," Emily whispers as she embraces you in a hug. "Take this time to start a new hobby or something."
"I'll think about it," you smile. Spencer places his hand on the small of your back as you exit Penelope's apartment. You two are silent on the way Spencer's car. Spencer in his true fashion explains to you that you weren't going to drive anywhere this whole next month. You tried your best to tell him you didn't need a chauffeur and he was already doing enough. Plus, he didn't even like to drive. But your protests fell on deaf ears.
"Shhh..just get in the car," Spencer smiled, opening the passenger door for you.
"If you insist," you reply, sliding into the car.
"Play that one song you put on, something about taste?" Spencer said as he climbed into the driver's side.
"Oh my god, you want me to play Sabrina Carpenter?" You giggle, immediately searching for the song. You press play and turn the volume up to as loud as either of you could handle.
As soon as it began playing, you could hardly contain yourself. You were laughing so hard just listening to Spencer yell the words as dramatically as he could. He had to stop singing a couple of times because he was laughing just as hard as you. "Wait, one more time before we get home!"
"Okay, okay!"
Once you get to his apartment, you both can barely get out words you're still laughing at each other. He opens the door for you and you sigh in relief. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, he pulls you in for a hug. "I'm so proud of you."
You smile up at him. Before you can reply, he places a finger below your chin to bring your lips to his.
TAG LIST: @qatiee @dottirose @thisaintredwine @jay-2s-world @ruziazyn @translatemunson @sky2nd @dysphoricsanity @bunbunbl0gs
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knottedhearts · 27 days ago
Text
Blunt Edges: C.S.
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The apartment was dead silent except for the faint buzz of the old fridge in the corner. You sat on the couch, arms crossed, your leg bouncing restlessly. The TV was on, but you weren’t watching it—your eyes were glued to the clock on the wall. 3:07 AM. Chris still wasn’t home.
Your phone sat on the table, face up, mocking you with its lack of notifications. No texts. No calls. Nothing. The worry that had been simmering for hours had twisted into a knot of anger and frustration. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called? The excuses he’d have this time were already running through your head, and you were ready to let him have it.
The front door finally creaked open, and Chris swaggered in, the smell of weed hitting you before you even saw his face. His hood was pulled up, and his jeans hung low as he kicked the door shut behind him. A blunt burned between his fingers as he leaned against the wall, smirking like nothing was wrong.
“Chris,” you said sharply, standing up from the couch. “Where the hell have you been?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, taking a slow drag from the blunt. “Don’t start, Y/n,” he said, exhaling the smoke lazily. “I’m here now, ain’t I?”
Your blood boiled at his nonchalant tone. “It’s three in the morning! You didn’t call, you didn’t text—do you even care how worried I was?”
Chris snorted, brushing past you and dropping onto the couch like he owned the place. “You worry too much, ma. I was handling business. Chill with all that nagging.”
“Business?” you repeated, following him, your arms still crossed. “You come home reeking of weed, acting like this is normal—what kind of business is that?”
He leaned back, spreading his arms along the back of the couch, the blunt still between his fingers. “You don’t need to know about all that. Stay in your lane, Y/n. I got this.”
“Stay in my lane?” you snapped, your voice rising. “I’m your girlfriend, Chris! If you think I’m just gonna sit here and—”
Chris cut you off, his voice loud and sharp. “Yo, why you always gotta be in my face about shit? I’m out here doing what I gotta do, and you wanna act like my damn mom or something.” He stood up, towering over you, his posture tense. “I’m a grown-ass man. You don’t run me.”
Your jaw clenched as anger bubbled over. You reached out and slapped the blunt right out of his hand, sending it flying onto the floor. “Don’t talk to me like that!” you yelled, your voice trembling with frustration. “I know you’re in a gang, Chris. Don’t even try to deny it.”
His whole demeanor shifted. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. “Watch your mouth, Y/n. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Don’t play dumb with me!” you shot back, standing your ground. “I’ve seen the bruises, the way you disappear for hours, the shady people you hang around. I’m not stupid, Chris.”
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You don’t know shit. You think you can stand there, judging me? You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve had to do to survive.”
“Then explain it to me!” you said, your voice breaking. “Instead of coming home at three in the morning, high out of your mind, acting like none of this matters.”
Chris clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t owe you shit, Y/n. I’m out here risking my life, making moves, and you wanna sit here and lecture me? You don’t get it.”
“No, Chris, you don’t get it!” you snapped, your own frustration boiling over. “This isn’t just about you. I’m the one who has to sit here, wondering if you’re alive or dead, if the cops are gonna show up at my door or if some rival gang is gonna—”
“Yo, shut up with that bullshit!” he yelled, his voice booming over yours. “You don’t know how it works. I don’t need you worrying about me. I’ve been doing this long before you came around, and I’ll keep doing it with or without you.”
The room went silent for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, the weight of his words sinking in. You stared at him, tears stinging your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.
“If you don’t care about me or this relationship enough to change, then maybe you don’t deserve me,” you said quietly, the hurt in your voice cutting deeper than any yell.
Chris’s jaw tightened, his tough exterior faltering for just a second. But instead of apologizing, he scoffed, shaking his head. “Whatever, Y/n. Do what you gotta do. I’m out.”
He grabbed his keys and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. You stood there, shaking with anger and heartbreak, the smell of weed still lingering in the air.
a/n: If you'd like a part two tell me.
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hnslchw · 1 month ago
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not what we wanted - LN4 x Reader
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Summary: You haven’t felt this kind of ache in years. As memories of your relationship with Lando resurface, the lines between love and loss blur, leaving you grasping at the emotions you thought you’d buried. With every lyric you write, you’re pulled deeper into the bittersweet realization of what was—and what will never be.
Based on "the apartment we won't share by NIKI"
Themes/Warnings: angst (ofc), commitment issues??, no comfort, singer!reader, daddy and mommy issues (lando prolly doesn't have daddy issues but let's pretend pls) (Please let me know if I missed anything)
Word count: 1.1k
Author's note: Hello!! im so proud of this one i really hope everyone likes it. Please let me know what you think! Also if you want to suggest new drivers, characters, or new genres Ill try to make one for them, even though i only write once every two months HAHAH please feel free to ask <3 Anyways hope you enjoy!
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The candle flickered on the desk as you stared at the half-filled notebook in front of you. The melody played faintly in the background, guiding the flow of your pen. Words scratched their way onto the paper, raw and unfiltered, each line peeling back the layers of a love that once felt indestructible. A love that belonged to you and Lando.
Two years ago, you had walked away from the man who, for a time, had been your entire world. The memories came rushing in as you tried to put them into lyrics, their weight settling in your chest.
The apartment we won't share.
I wonder what sad wife lives there.
Have the windows deciphered her stares?
Do the bricks in the walls know to hide the affairs?
You remembered the day you went apartment viewing with Lando. It was a sunlit afternoon, and the air buzzed with excitement as the two of you dreamed about building a life together.
“This one’s perfect,” Lando had said, his voice echoing in the spacious open floor plan.
You weren’t alone at the viewing. A couple—a woman with tired eyes and her distracted husband—wandered the space, too. The wife’s stares lingered on the window, and the unspoken tension between them was palpable.
When you and Lando got home that evening, he joked, “I swear, if we ever get like that, just put me out of my misery.”
You laughed, nudging his side. “Deal. Though you’re too busy to turn into a grumpy husband anyway.”
The irony cut deeper now. You hadn’t seen it then, but that couple was a reflection of what you and Lando were becoming—two people holding on to a love they couldn’t maintain.
The dog we won’t have is now one I would not choose.
A flash of warmth filled your chest as you thought about the day you met Charles’ dachshund, Leo.
“Now this is a dog,” Lando had said, crouching down to let Leo excitedly sniff his hand. “When we get one, it’s gotta be just like him—small, but full of personality.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You mean stubborn and impossible to train?”
“Exactly,” Lando replied, grinning as Leo flopped onto his back for belly rubs.
The idea of a dog—a small, tangible piece of the future you were trying to build—felt so easy back then. But now, even the thought of it was bittersweet.
The daughter we won’t raise still waits for you.
You wiped at your eyes, forcing yourself to stay present. The memory of late-night talks with Lando replayed like a broken record.
“I want a little girl someday,” he’d confessed once, his voice soft with vulnerability. “She’d be a daddy’s girl. Spoiled rotten.”
You had smiled, nodding along. You wanted to want the same thing, but deep down, you weren’t sure if you ever saw yourself as a mother. You had never told him that, though. Maybe you should have.
The girl I won’t be is the one that’s yours.
I hope you shortly find what you long for.
The breakup came rushing back, a scene you had replayed a thousand times in your head. It was late at night, and the exhaustion of trying to keep the relationship alive had worn you both thin.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you had said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. “I know.”
You wanted to be angry, to yell at him for not fighting harder. But deep down, you both knew the truth—you had drifted too far apart. You cupped his cheek, a sad smile on your lips. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lando.”
The filthy joke that won’t
Burrow in the corner of your
Smirking lips, I mourn it to this day.
A laugh escaped your lips as you thought about the gala. You could still see the way Lando leaned in, whispering a dirty joke in your ear that was so wildly inappropriate for the setting.
Your cheeks had burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him. Not when he looked at you with that stupid grin, his dimples on full display. You had never loved anyone more in that moment.
The story we won’t tell
Is my greatest fantasy.
The passion I won’t feel again
Isn’t lost on me.
You paused, letting the pen hover over the page. The weight of regret settled heavily on your shoulders. You had loved him deeply, even as the relationship unraveled. And now, the thought of never feeling that kind of love again terrified you.
The son you never wanted
Is the wound your father left.
And the mother I won’t be is
Probably for the best.
Your mind drifted back to one of your many late-night talks. Lando had opened up about his childhood, his compilcated relationship with his father. “I don’t think I’d know how to be a dad to a son,” he had admitted.
You hadn’t realized it then, but that fear had mirrored your own doubts about being a mother. Maybe that was why you had hesitated to dream too big about a family with him.
Your demons I won’t meet
Now someone else’s word to keep.
I’m sure she’s beautiful and sweet.
The song was nearly done when your phone buzzed on the desk. You picked it up, and the screen illuminated with a headline: Lando Norris and Fiancée Announce Engagement.
Your breath hitched, but you couldn’t look away. The woman in the photo was stunning, her smile radiant as she stood beside him. He looked happy—happier than you had seen him in years.
You closed the notebook, staring at the final line you had written:
Not what I wanted, but what we need.
The song was finished, but the story wasn’t just about you and Lando anymore. It was about letting go, about making peace with the love you had lost. You set the notebook aside, exhaling deeply.
Some endings weren’t tragic. They were just necessary.
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