#especially after having thought i'd lose him

[writersdrug]

Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway

Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/

OMG wait I soooo want to try that-

The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.

"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.

"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."

"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.

"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"

He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"

"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"

"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.

"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"

Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."

You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"

He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.

"You think it'd sell?"

"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."

He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."

You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.

Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.

You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.

However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.

"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.

"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.

"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."

He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."

"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.

"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.

You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."

Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).

You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.

You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.

"Tastes like a mule."

"But it looks like a potion, right?"

"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"

You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.

Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.

Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.

He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.

Hus phone buzzes.

Price: ??

Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media

Soap: clever girl

Soap: what drink?

Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.

Soap: picture?

Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?

Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-

Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.

Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.

Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.

You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.

Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.

His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.

Price: Cute thing, isn't she?

Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.

"Fuckin' wot?"

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Don't Run Off Like That

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts. [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

The minute you run off Zayne would watch you retreat not because he doesn't want to chase you, but because he's going through every possible outcome in his head on whether he should follow you or not.

By the time he decides to follow you're already out of sight. Now you have him walking through the streets of Linkon looking like a lost puppy. After about five minutes of blowing your phone up he's turning into Sherlock Zayne and doing some deductive reasoning about where you may have gone.

He was relieved to find you wrapped up in a blanket. Not in your bed, but in his instead.

Zayne: Please never run off like that again MC: I can't argue with you especially when I'm pissed off I'll always lose Zayne: its not really a competition it's us vs the problem MC: I know that which is why I didn't want to argue with you especially in public Zayne: I feel the same MC: I just needed to calm down Zayne: *Smiles* In my bed? MC: .... Your scent is calming I just didn't want to hug you while I was mad at you so your bed was the perfect solution

Rafayel

Rafayel is immediately chasing after you the minute you storm off, but of course you break out into a full sprint. He would be STRESSED. This man gets antsy when you don't reply fast enough. Now you're not replying and he can't find you? Yea his chest hurts. He's calling you on speaker phone just so he can continue texting you. After about ten minutes of your phone blowing up non-stop you share your location with him.

He found you in his kitchen, sitting on the counter, eating all his snacks. "I thought you got kidnapped or something!"

"Need I remind you I'm a trained fighter and constantly have a gun on my hip?" Rafayel would roll his eyes before taking the snacks from your hands and slotting himself between your legs. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while taking deep calming breaths.

Rafayel: Why did you run off like that? MC: I didn't want to say anything I'd regret so I needed time to myself Rafayel: So you turn into sonic the hedgehog? MC: I knew you'd come find me Rafayel: I'll always find you.

Xavier

Let's be so for real Xavier is on you. If you try to run from him he gonna teleport in front of you. So in order to get away from him you have to excuse yourself and then dip out when he can't see you. That whole turn around and storm off you planned on doing? Not happening that mf way too fast.

He would realize you've been gone for a while so he'd text you with concern. A few minutes pass and he starts getting worried. He's immediately on the move looking for you; checking your location, trying to get the coordinates on your watch. He'd call Jeremiah asking if he'd seen you as he's running around.

He manages to find you in the Hunters Association doing research on the increase in wanderers.

Xavier: You'd rather do research than talk to me? MC: You pissed me off and I hate arguing with you ... I needed something to take my mind off it Xavier: I don't enjoy it either but please don't disappear like that you almost gave me a heart attack MC: I needed to calm down Xavier: There's nothing wrong with that I just .... if something happened to you I don't want our last words to be out of anger you know? MC: I know ... I don't want that either

Sylus

Sylus would feel terrible for making you upset enough to storm off in tears, but he'd let you blow off some steam before coming to find you. He would definitely have the twins contact you first before he showed up. He'd have Mephisto watch you and report back to him as well.

You didn't go far he knew you'd storm off to one of your favorite places on base. The home library. He found you curled up on one of the giant bean bag chairs that you just had to have(he couldn't say no of course)

Sylus: May I come in? MC: Permission granted Sylus: I didn't mean to upset you Princess MC: Im sure you didn't mean to but you did and we're at a good point in our relationship I don't want to say anything I'll regret later Sylus: I don't mind you cursing me out MC: I mind Sylus: Are you ready to talk? MC: Yes, but I want a foot rub as we talk Sylus: *chuckles* I may have spoiled you too much MC: Is that a no? Sylus: *Grabs your foot* I'll do anything for you as long as you talk to me

[hedgehog-moss]

(There is blood pictured at the end of this post) (well, 1 drop) (don't worry it's mine, not some innocent creature's)

I found a dormouse in my kitchen today, just chilling on the ceiling above my head, watching me cook. Maybe even judging my cooking technique like Ratatouille. I only noticed its presence because there's a bunch of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling above the stove and at one point I heard a rustling, then a crunching noise.

It was eating my herbs.

As if they were a little snack I'd placed here for my dormouse friends. None of my other animals can walk on the ceiling, therefore any food that's near the ceiling must be an offering to the dormice. (I admit, that's sound logic.)

A dormouse family has been living in my walls since before I moved here—I should probably call it a dormouse dynasty, by now. Here's the first post I wrote about them, in 2019 ! The cats eat a lot of them (especially Morille, she loves dormice) but apparently not enough to make the key decision makers in this dormouse community decide that living in my house is more trouble than it's worth.

Every year when they hibernate and go quiet for eight months I have the renewed hope that this time the cats got rid of all of them, but the next spring they wake up and start scratching inside my walls in the middle of the night again. (Not only that's creepy, but it's so loud.)

Anyway, this dormouse, let's call him Alfred. I saw immediately which hole between two stones he'd crawled out of and the first thing I did was to stuff a salt shaker in there to block his escape route. Step 2 was to call for backup—I summoned Morille, and she came down from the living-room 2 seconds later (the cats know it's always good news when I call them to the kitchen while cooking.)

Alfred was panicking.

I grabbed a broom and started threatening him with it like an angry old woman in a cartoon. He tried to flee towards the ladder, but Morille was there. He tried to flee towards the door, but Morille was also there. He tried to hide on top of the fridge, and Morille happily lay siege to it, like my fridge was a Gallic oppidum on top of a hill and Morille was Caesar and his entire army.

Morille was having the time of her life.

But my kitchen door was ajar, and Alfred managed a heroic jump from the top of the fridge to the lintel, like a flying squirrel. He scurried out then grabbed hold of the climbing rose right above the door. When I got out and took this photo, he looked fairly stressed and pessimistic.

I didn't want him to climb the wall all the way to the eaves and go right back into my house, so I went back in to get my broom again, either to make him lose his grip and fall straight into Morille's gaping maw (sorry), or make him run away into the woods (inferior solution; they always find their way back, unless you take them very far away.)

(I used to trap dormice humanely then drive them 3km away to release them near the barn of a neighbour I disliked, but this neighbour has since moved. (Not because of my dormouse warfare, I swear.) There's also an abandoned house in the woods where I used to exile my prisoners, but after a while I started feeling silly driving around the countryside with dormice in the backseat, so I stopped trapping them (it really was a hassle) and just let the cats eat them.)

But Alfred is a combative and resourceful rodent. In the half-minute it took me to go back in and grab my broom, he laid a trap for me.

He ran along the stem of my climbing rose in such a way that his weight made it droop jussst enough to be now hanging at face level rather than above the door. So when I ran outside again with my broom, I was slapped in the face by a thorny rose plant. (For a minute I thought I was crying tears of blood, which seemed worrying, but it was just a scratch above my eye.) (I wish it could leave a tiny scar, so people will ask how I got it, and I will tell them about the mighty dormouse wielding a rose sword.)

I sent these pics to my brother hoping to get some sympathy, and he cropped & desaturated the one with the blood teardrop then sent it back with the comment "you look like an Evanescence song"

By this point I decided Alfred had won this battle. (Not the war, because it's almost autumn aka hibernation time so he probably found another gap between two stones and went right back inside. The war continues.) But this humble dormouse set a Saw trap to poke my eyes out the second I stepped outside my house and I respect that. I admire the way he used his environment to his advantage, and teamed up with my climbing rose to level the playing field (since I had teamed up with my cat first.) He has won the right to spend another winter inside my walls, curled up in my cosy wool insulation, dreaming of dried herbs, thwarted cats, and heroic skydiving from fridgetops.

Well played.

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: captivity, obsessive behavior, made up fantasy lore, mind fuck (?)

He never calls for you - he only ever sends his servants, poor, confused little creatures of the night once lost just like you. They gather at your door like an army of darkness, scratching and biting at the delicate wooden frame, howling piteously with full chest until you're faced with the choice of either opening the door, or suffocating yourself with the fluffy white pillow. You give in after what feels like an appropriate time - not too soon as to feed his ever - growing ego, yet not so late that the creatures' heads start to roll under your nose.

You slowly walk down the endless corridor, refusing to look at anything for longer than a second - even as it calls to you with the sweetest voice of desire. Everything is enchanted to the very last candle on the wall. The countless paintings depict wealth and opulence beyond your wildest dreams, an adundance of riches upon riches, of honeycomb amber and pure green emeralds. The silk carpet is as soft as a dandelion just before it bursts open, and the crystal chandelier embarks such a soft light the human eye can never properly adjust to the tender shades of yellow and blue. The castle is tempting you with every passing breath - begging you to stay here forever. Begging you to love it, and everyone inside - especially His Majesty, the Lord.

You try to calm your disheveled thoughts as you carefully open the heavy gates to the throne room. Your breath hitches deep into your throat as your eyes gaze upon the feast spread out before you, and suddenly you're starving like a wolf. By now you should know better than to let yourself be lured in by magic - but the pull is too magnetic and you quickly find yourself stepping closer to the piled up table. You take in the smell with unsatiated hunger - golden apples baked inside fine sugar crystals, tender deer fillet dripping with berry sauce and smokey mushrooms, the sort you can only find inside an enchanted forrest. Cream puffs and mountains of stripped ice soaked in jam and vanilla essence upon stacks of fruit and more goblets of red wine than you can count. And yet he remains ever the centerpiece of the vision.

"You're late, mona grece tide*." His voice slowly fills the room with its overbearing softness, always on the verge of dropping into silence. It's painful to look at him - as if everything about the mythical man was created a touch too symmetrical, to the point where the sharp features all blend together. His lips are too full, his eyes - if the golden slits beneath his brows may be called that, are way too bright under the sun, and they reflect a time you don't wish to remember. And his hair is so long and pale, so very white and smooth, you have to stop your hands from reaching into the wounded transparency of his wild locks, less you want to lose a finger or two.

"Tidea." Khaal snaps his finger more aggressively when you don't respond to his call the first time. You squint in an attempt to block the light coming from the tiny cracks in his face - the birth lines of his dragon. "Sit down. Don't make me come to you."

Tide. Tidea. Love, as you eventually learnt the meaning of the word in Lohemian. My little love, the words still rest on his tongue, because what are you if not a small, fragile human?

"I'd hate to inconvenience you so, my Lord." You eventually bite back, breaking out of the trance. Slipping in and out of consciousness and constantly guessing your surroundings is taking a toll on you, but you'll lose your sanity before you give into his madness. "Touching a filthy human like myself will surely sully your pretty golden flakes." You smile with venom, tearing into the nearest sun-pear. He watches the juice drip down your chin with angry narrowed eyes, and with another swift snap of his fingers he's standing before you, towering above.

"Insolent child, you are." He grips your face carelessly, inspecting it from all sides before finally materializing a clean cloth and wiping you clean. "You're foolish just like any other human." His brows twist together with anger, but his expression remains angelic to the untrained eye. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. The sun at your feet, the moon on your shoulders. All the knowledge of the world." His fingers suddenly stop rubbing along your jawline and his gaze falls upon your cold, quivering lips. "All I ask in return is your loyalty." His sharp nail begins stroking your lower lip. It doesn't draw blood, but you wish it would. You can't stand the anticipation - the moment before the violence entails.

"Don't let your eyes wander. Gift me your warmth." The dragon king pulls you closer to his chest, and all fight leaves you. His form is perfectly defined with thousand metal - like flakes, one on top of the other like a flawless shield. It's probably a great weapon on the battlefield - but it lacks the naked vulnerability of human skin, and it's so cold it hurts to stand close, much less touch it directly. "Look at me!" He suddenly roars, and you fall back from the sheer power of his voice.

Everything hurts - as if the floor is suddenly melting, you feel like you will never stop falling down.

"I can't. It's too painful." You whisper weakly between hoarse broken sobs threatening to tear off your heart in two. "I wasn't made for this world, f-for your... world." You bite your lips, averting eyes to the ground. "Everything in you wants me dead. Your love will kill me." You whimper, squeezing your left hand to your chest. The dead weight of the broken bone is pulling you down, luring you deeper into sleep.

"I'd like to see you try, mon'tidea." He sinks down to your level, quick as a shadow. Stealing a kiss as light as a sparrow, he pushes you down. "Die as many times as you want. You'll always end up here in my arms." His lips are grazing your ear, warm breath hitting your neck. Another illusion, you realize - his body can't create warmth. It's simply reflecting your warmth back to you. "Because once you enter my realm, there's no coming back."

[hobies-princealbert]

"you wanna guess the colour of my underwear?"~✿

logan "wolverine" howlett x black!reader

there's something about a hairy man with a bad attitude that i can't resist

♡ ° ๑ • ♡ ° ๑ • ♡ ° ๑ • ♡ ° ๑ • ♡ ° ๑ • ♡ °

"the fuck are you on about?"

"oh come on lo, just play along. i'd make me really happy if you did. com' on bubby."

dear god. logan couldn't even begin to understand why you choose NOW to play games with him.

you couldn't possibly be serious. especially now after the way you spent the entire day staring at him like a piece of meat. every glance, stare or shy little gestures, he caught. he knew you were worked up as hell.

it's not like he can't smell the arousal on you either. he's been drowning in that scent all damn day.

he smelt it peak, when he caught you staring at him during his workout. and he offered his arm, which you held onto the entire walk home.

and you were damn near suffocating him when you were sat on his lap watching some b-movie, like the rest of the couch wasn't an option. you thought you were slick with the squirms. and on top of it you had the nerve to give half ass, whispered apologies whenever he grunts cause your ass nudged his crotch.

soon logan decided it was time to put an end to your little charades. he's giving you what you want. he touched you just how you liked it; traced kisses along your jaw, hands firm on your ass, with little praises here and there. so now that he's propped up against the headboard and your straddling his waist, why the fuck do you want him to guess the underwear you got on?

"come on bubby, what do you think? is it that pretty and pink one? or that see-through one? or that thong that shows my little bunny tatt?"

"why the hell i gotta guess for bub? they'll be on the floor in a min or two." logan really didn't want to entertain this, but he knows how sulky you get when he doesn't humor you, so why not? what does he have to lose?

a lot. he had a lot to lose actually. his patience. his humor. and soon his boner, if you stopped grinding against his dick to add to the frustration, and your amusement.

why was this so hard to guess? sure, he's seen your underwear before, but he only thought of it as something to rid of. and the only ones he did remember, weren't the right damn answer. the purple one with little frills? the white lacey one? the orange one with that stupid cat doodle?

thank god you had some mercy on him and gave some hints here and there. "come on baby, i know you can do it. think tokyo." the flash of realization across logan's face had you squirming with delight.

"that black pair with the bow, huh? good choice bub. very fuckin' good choice"

[strwberri-milk]

hello i'd like to request something if thats ok!! imagine walking in on the l&ds men getting themselves off to the thought of u and they get all embarrassed but then u go and help them & make them see stars<33 i just love them a lot n wanna give them allll the pleasure they deserve. ty!!!! have a nice day lovely

i love this sort of trope, nsfw under the cut!!

Zayne typically is able to wait for you to come home to take care of himself. It doesn't happen very often that he's this desperate for you in your absence and he thought he could wait for you to come home. He collapses onto the sheets after taking a shower, fully thinking that the cold water would soothe him and it does! Until he smells you on the bed, remembering the warmth of your body in his arms.

He's reaching under his robe before he realises it, the cool touch of his hand on his cock nothing like the way you'd hold him. He has to make do with your memory, settling himself comfortably on the bed as he strokes his cock slowly. He doesn't want to cum too quickly but he also knows he should finish before you get home, not wanting you to catch him in such a compromising position. He knows you wouldn't say anything but the thought of it is still a little mortifying to him. He has a reputation and image to uphold after all and biting the back of his hand to muffle his moans is not a part of it.

Thankfully he's not too much of a moaner, light pants and soft groans the only thing that escape his lips as his hand works his precum down his shaft to make the glide of his fist easier. His hips buck into his hand every so often, trying his best to imagine that his fist is your tight warmth. If he closes his eyes and doesn't focus too much on how his hand feels he can imagine that it's you, jolting when a second hand joins him.

His eyes open and there you are, straddling his legs with an evil smirk on your face as you take over his pace, cooing at him for being so needy that he couldn't even text you to tell you to come home. He's about to reply when you squeeze him in that way that always makes his mind blank, telling him that you're going to have lots of fun bullying him now that you've found him like this.

Xavier woke up hard, patting the bed beside him in hopes of finding you to grind up against. Even if you didn't want to have sex you'd be nice enough to let him run his cock along your ass, sometimes even offering up your thighs when feeling especially generous.

You're gone, probably off getting started with your day or something. He sighs a little, debating between waiting for you or taking care of things himself. He wants to wait for you but he also knows that he's far too hard to consider doing anything else at the moment, closing his eyes as he starts to sleepily jerk himself off.

His sounds are soft and breathy, not really trying to hold back. If he's caught by you he can definitely play innocent and maybe you'll take pity on him and let him take you the way he needs to right now. He loses himself in his touch, hips bucking up to fuck into his fist when the sound of you clearing your throat from the door stops him. He looks at you a little sheepishly before coaxing you to come to him, biting his lip as you approach.

You start undressing as you come to him, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you crawl on top of him. He feels you press him between your legs, cock twitching as he pulls you in for a deep kiss, showing you just how badly he needs you.

Rafayel was moping in bed again after you left him to run out for groceries, the tossing in turning unfortunately rubbing his cock against the front of his pants in a way that made him hiss. Without thinking he's got a pillow between his legs, blinding reaching for the pyjamas you left behind to take deep breaths of as he rocks against the pillow.

He knows it's a poor imitation of you but right now he can't think of anything but you, the way you smell on your clothes making his mind spin. He's always been weak for you but especially right now, knuckles white as he holds onto your clothes desperately. He misses you so much and he won't admit it to you yet for fear of being teased but he really can't get off if he doesn't have something of you with him. Whether it be your voice in his ear or your clothes in his fist, just something has to be there for him to actually cum.

He's about to spill all over the sheets to the thoughts of you when he feels your hand close over his. You're about to tease him when you see his tears lightly lining his eyes, looking up at you desperately as he softly mutters your name. You can't do anything mean to him when he's looking at you like that, pushing him down onto the bed as your mouth takes him in, clasping his hand in yours as your tongue runs all over him.

Sylus hadn't been able to see you in a while thanks to his busy schedule. That means he also has been too busy to relieve himself, which isn't really an issue until he sees you've texted him. You sent him a selfie, one a little more risque than you expected with how innocent the subject matter was in your text. He knows you didn't mean to turn him on but now he's sitting in his study jerking himself off to the photo you sent him.

He can't help it. He's cursing you under his breath, blaming you for making his skin flush and this desperation coursing through his veins. The next time he sees you you're going to be punished for doing this to him but for now he has to alleviate himself with the rough pace of his hand, looking through his phone to the secret gallery he has of other photos you've sent him. The sight of your body makes him go into overdrive, moans escaping past bitten lips as he's about to cum.

You come into his office with a surprise for him, slack jawed as the flush on his cheeks and heavy breathing make it clear what you just caught him doing. Instead of acting shy about it he sits back in his chair, raising a brow at you and gesturing for you to shut the door. When you come to his desk he spreads his legs a little more for you, cock twitching against his stomach as he asks you to help him out.

His gaze makes you swallow heavily, going to your knees as you crawl between his legs, peppering his thick cock in kisses before starting to bob up and down on his cock.

[azrielslittleslut]

Requesting Azriel x easily anxious and agitated Valkyrie, who constantly zones out? Fluff/smut/angst, you pick(just don’t break my marshmallow heart at the end😭)

"Little Valkyrie"

Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, Az is kind of an asshole, reader is a lil bit of an asshole back, language

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: i would do anything to see az in a cowboy hat. i don't ride horses, but i'd ride him like one.

Enjoy!

The sound of the sword dropping onto the training room floor brought you back to the present. The clang of the steel hitting the ground echoed for a few moments, your breath coming in ragged pants as you tried to collect yourself.

Azriel groaned, his eyes rolling slightly as he looked at the dropped weapon. "That's the second time this has happened today," he said, dropping his own sword to his side. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

You flinched, your cheeks heating as the weight of your own failure crashed down on you. "I don't know," you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. "I didn't sleep well last night. I guess I'm just tired."

"Tired" was definitely not the word to use, but it was the only excuse you could come up with. As a Valkyrie, you should be able to push through exhaustion, and Azriel knew that. You should be able to hold your sword high, no matter how sore or tired you are.

But you had never been like the other Valkyries. You were slower and slightly weaker, always full of anxiety about fighting or training. You could hold your own, of course, but it required more effort on your part. You had spent hours and hours in this very training ring, going through countless exercises to become a part of their ranks.

Now that you thought about it, you honestly didn't know why you had been so insistent on becoming one. You were happier when your nose was buried in a book than when you had a dagger in your hand. You were a dreamer. Your mind was always filled with imaginary scenarios that had absolutely nothing to do with fighting.

You would never admit how often you zoned out to anyone, especially not Azriel. Just earlier, he had been walking you through different sword techniques, his deep voice full of careful instruction as he showed you.

The only problem was, you didn't remember any of it. You had been too busy imagining what Azriel would look like wearing a silly hat, like a cowboy hat. It had taken all of your self-control to keep from giggling at the thought of such a broody male wearing something so ridiculous.

Yes, the zoning out was a massive problem, but you couldn't help it. It was how you dealt with your anxiety since childhood, and unfortunately for you and everyone else around, that little habit had continued on into adulthood.

Plus, it was the only way to ease your frazzled nerves around him. You weren't scared of him, like so many others, but your nervousness had other roots.

He was so beautiful, all tall, dark, and handsome. Your skin tingled every time he touched you to adjust your hold on a weapon. You felt your breath catch in your throat when he looked at you with those beautiful eyes.

You were so pathetic, pining after a male like Azriel, who was so unemotionally available it bordered on hilarious.

"Hello?" Azriel's annoyed voice brought you out of your thoughts. Damn it. You had done it again. "If you aren't going to pay attention to me, I'm not going to waste any more of my time. I have other things to do."

You watched in silence as Azriel walked over to the weapon storage area, and you felt anger boil inside of your veins as you watched him meticulously shed his weapons.

That was the downside to all of this- when you zone out, and others notice, you always get so agitated that you lose control of the words that come out of your mouth.

"What? You can't miss another appointment with those shadows of yours to do nothing but brood?" you snapped, your hands on your hips as you pinned him to the spot with your eyes.

Azriel turned on his heels, hazel eyes blazing with fury. "I would rather spend my time brooding than with a wanna-be Valkyrie who can't even focus."

The harshness of his words hung in the air, cutting through your heart like a knife. You had always been fond of Azriel, and recently you had even started to develop a small crush on him. But just like that, your hopes of anything more than a forced friendship with him were deflated like a popped balloon.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you stammered, unable to fight the tears that now spilled down your cheeks. "I think I should go now. I'll find someone else to train me."

You didn't bother looking back at him as you rushed from the training ring, your tears falling freely now. As you ran into the House, you ignored the faint feeling of a tickle on your skin, as if one of his shadows was begging you to stay.

---

"Why are you wound so tight, brother?" Cassian teased, his sword clashing against Azriel's with easy precision. Az felt the clang of metal on metal ring through his forearms, a welcome pain to distract him from his frazzled thoughts.

"Nothing," Azriel grumbled as he readjusted his fighting stance. He and Cassian had been going at it for hours now, the sounds of their labored breathing mixing with the clashing of their swords.

Azriel could deny it all he wanted, but there was a good reason as to why he was so on edge. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the look of pain on your face after he had insulted you. The tears that had poured from your beautiful eyes had cut through him, as if someone had been stabbing him repeatedly with Truth-Teller.

He had wanted to run after you, to do or say whatever was required to get you to smile at him again. He would beg on his knees to hear your laughter once more, but now he had gone off and ruined it.

Azriel was scum.

Cassian barely side-stepped Azriel's next strike, his wings snapping behind him as the blade came dangerously close to cutting them. "Mother's tits, Az," Cassian hissed. "If you wanted to play dirty, all you had to do was tell me."

Cassian was already crouching down, a position that he only used on the battlefield when he was preparing to face off with an enemy. But Azriel held up his hands, dropping the sword onto the ground. He tried not to think of how he had chastised you for doing the same thing.

"I yield," he murmured, his shadows wrapping around his wings and shoulders, preparing to winnow him away if he so wished it.

Cass stood, his eyes blinking rapidly. "You? Yielding?" He chuckled lowly. He looked over to the Illyrian mountains in the distance, his gaze scanning along the frozen peaks. "Yep. Illyria appears to still be frozen, so the world isn't ending. What the fuck is up with you?"

Azriel glowered at his brother. "Nothing, Cassian. Just tired." He really didn't want to explain this whole situation, and especially not to someone as nosy as Cassian.

"Yeah. Nothing. Okay," Cassian murmured, padding over to the water station at the corner of the ring.

Azriel silently followed, his mind wandering to you. He prayed you would forgive him for his stupidity. You were still new to training, even though you had proven time and time again that you belonged here. You fought as good as anyone else, sometimes even rivaling Nesta in your hand-to-hand combat skills.

I would rather spend my time brooding than with a wanna-be Valkyrie who can't even focus.

The memory of his words caused him to flinch, which didn't go unnoticed by Cassian. He slammed down his water glass, the liquid sloshing onto the ground. "Alright," he snapped. "Cut the shit. Something is going on, and you aren't leaving this training ring until you tell me what it is."

Azriel's shadows were already swarming him, their soft whispers filling his ears as the started to take him away-

"And if you think those shadows can hide you from me, think again." Cassian's gaze softened for a moment, his hand coming to rest on Az's shoulder. "Tell me, brother. What's troubling you?"

Az blew out a breath, knowing that Cass wouldn't let it rest. "It's the new Valkyrie," he murmured, his arms folding around himself. "I was training her earlier, and I said some things I shouldn't have."

That was the understatement of the year, but Azriel kept the details of what he said to himself.

Cassian raised his brows as he leaned against the wall. "Ah. I see," he said, a grin forming on his face. "The one who can't seem to keep her wits about her when she's around you?"

Az blinked. "What do you mean?" Of course, he had noticed your tendency to zone out quite literally in the middle of training. He had watched in silent horror as that glazed-over look had formed in your eyes while Gwyn was holding a dagger next to your throat, the blade so close that it had nicked your skin.

He couldn't believe how someone could lack so much self-awareness, especially someone as kind and beautiful as you.

Wait. Kind and beautiful? Where had those thoughts come from? Azriel pondered that for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that perhaps his anger at your lack of focus had nothing to do with him wasting his time training someone who didn't care.

Maybe, just maybe, it was more than that. But he was too afraid to confront that right now.

Cassian clapped him on the shoulder. "For a spymaster, you seem to lack basic observation skills," he said with a chuckle. "I'll be sure to let Rhys know that you're losing your touch."

If Azriel had hackles, they would be raised right now.

"Hey," Cassian murmured, his voice soft. "I didn't mean to piss you off. You should apologize to her if what you said was that bad. She seems like a nice female, so I'm sure that she can find it in her heart to forgive you."

Azriel crossed his arms. He had never been good with apologies, so the thought of this was his own form of torture.

"Besides," Cassian continued on, draining the rest of his water, "maybe she'll just zone out and not pay attention to anything you say."

---

The stars were bright in the night sky, providing the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark training ring.

You fought to keep your breathing steady as you pummeled the punching back, your knuckles barking in protest as you put all of your strength behind each strike.

One, two. One, two. One, two.

You spoke through the movements in your mind like a mantra, your thoughts more focused than usual. You didn't have a problem with zoning out when you were alone, so you had decided that it was best to train like this.

Did the others think you were just a wanna-be Valkyrie? Did they think that you didn't care about being here?

Your punches became harder, more and more force behind them as your anger bubbled to the surface, your vision going red with rage-

"You're bending your wrist." The deep male voice echoed through the training ring, soft in nature but still carrying that condescending tone that had been haunting your waking thoughts for the last two days.

You did nothing to adjust yourself, proceeding to hit the bag the same way you had been all night. You chose to ignore the pain that had started to form in your wrist, just like you were going to ignore the male who had ruined your peaceful rage-punching.

Azriel sighed. "If you keep doing that, you're going to break something." His footsteps grew closer until they were right behind you. "Will you let me show you?"

You turned to face him then, not bothering to hide the rage plastered onto your features. "What? Finally decided that you wanted to help the poor, wanna-be Valkyrie? I am honored to be graced with the presence of such a powerful, siphoned-out warrior."

Azriel flinched, his wings twitching, his shadows swirling. "I did not mean to cause any offense," he whispered. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

You huffed. "Like you give a fuck. It would probably make you very happy to see me get my ass handed to me. You probably don't even want me here, so I'll just leave."

You turned, but Azriel's scarred hand stopped you. This close, you could smell his lovely scent of night-chilled mist and cedar, and you fought the urge to close your eyes and lean into it. He was so warm and strong, and you cursed the desire coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "For what I said at training. I don't think you're a wanna-be Valkyrie. You are a Valkyrie. You've proven that a hundred times over."

You stared at him, mouth wide open. You had never heard him say so many words together, much less say more than one sentence at a time. In fact, the only time he really ever spoke to you was when he was offering words of instruction.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Azriel continued on, his head dropping slightly. "Not right now, at least. I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean anything I said."

"Why did you say them, then?" you asked through gritted teeth. "Have you never heard of the saying 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all'?"

Despite everything, a grin formed on his full lips. "I've never heard of that before," he admitted, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks, still bright against his tan skin. "Perhaps I should put it into practice."

You rolled your eyes. "You still didn't answer my question."

"I said it because-" he broke off, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I said it because I was afraid. Afraid of how often you zone out in the middle of training, of how you completely lose focus when your life is on the line." He took a step forward, so close now that you could feel his warmth radiating toward you.

"Do you know the horrible things that could happen to you if you zone out like that in battle?" His voice was low as he spoke, so low that you wondered if you could suddenly hear his shadows now. "Do you understand what that would do to me? Knowing that I have trained you as well as I could, but you didn't make it because you started daydreaming?"

Your heart stuttered inside your chest as he spoke, your eyes scanning across his face. You hadn't realized how obvious your zoning out had been, always hoping that nobody had noticed.

You had been so fucking wrong.

"Why do you do it?" he demanded, though his voice was still heartbreakingly soft. There was a sheen in his eyes as he spoke, and your chest tightened at the blatant display of emotions on his usual guarded face. "Why can't you focus, little Valkyrie?"

Little Valkyrie. The nicknamed warmed your heart, sending heat through your chilled bones.

You didn't want to admit the truth to him, but how could you deny it when he was standing before you, pleading with you?

"I zone out because of you," you said quietly, praying to the Mother that, for once, his Fae hearing would fail.

Azriel blinked, a choked laugh escaping him. "Because of me?" he asked, placing his scarred hands on his chest. "How do I make you nervous? Do I make you afraid? Fuck, I never meant to scare you-"

"Azriel." Your voice cut through his babbling like a knife. "You don't scare me. Quite the opposite actually." You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, looking to the ground as you spoke. "I get nervous around you because I like you. I get nervous because one of the strongest Illyrian warriors is training me, and I feel so small in comparison. It doesn't help that you're kind and funny when you're not insulting me."

Azriel stared at you in disbelief, his hazel eyes full of something like surprise and... awe. "You like me?" he asked, a boyish smile gracing his face. It looked so ridiculous on him, this dark warrior, but you decided you would do whatever you could to keep seeing it.

"I do," you responded with a nod. "I have for a while."

Azriel furrowed his brows, his shadows reaching out to play with a strand of your hair. "And you thought zoning out in the middle of our training would make me like you back?"

"It got your attention, didn't it?" you said.

"It worked," he responded, that stupid smile still on his face.

You let out a breath, relief washing through you. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I know it can have devastating consequences, and I would never zone out in the middle of a real battle."

Azriel chuckled. "Unless I'm there, apparently."

There was the arrogant asshole that you knew and loved.

You slapped playfully on the shoulder. "Train with me tonight," you said, nodding your head over to the swords hanging on the wall. "Let me show you how badly I can kick your ass when I don't zone out."

You knew you would never be able to accomplish such a feat, especially not with him. But you liked this side of him. The one that you could tease and taunt.

Az grabbed a sword and threw it to you. You caught it with one hand, raising it up as he grabbed a matching one. He stood before you, his wings tucked in, his legs braced apart.

He raised a finger, curling it slightly in the air. "Let's see what you've got, little Valkyrie."

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

[my-castles-crumbling]

apology - platonic prongsfoot - jegulus - September 15th - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 291

He found Sirius sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower, arms wrapped around his knees, staring out at the stars.

"Pads?" he whispered, terrified of more yelling. More tears.

"Hmm." It was a good sign.

"I'm...I'm sorry." The apology fell from his lips easily, but it didn't begin to cover his feelings. His guilt, his happiness, his confusion.

Grey eyes met his. "Are you?" he asked, a genuine question.

It was a fair query, but James wasn't sure what to say. "I..." He sat, contemplating before answering. "I love him, Sirius," he whispered, deciding that honest was the best policy, especially now. "So much."

Sirius scoffed, but didn't complain.

"But I'm sorry for not telling you, yeah," he went on, tears coming to his own eyes. "I was just scared you would be..."

"Mad?"

James nodded, appreciating the irony of the situation.

"Prongs, I care about both of you. You really think I'd be angry that you care about each other, too?" Sirius asked, eyes full of hurt.

And when he put it like that, shame flooded through James's body.

"I'm happy for you. For both of you. I just...I wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me," he murmured, pulling his knees closer to himself.

He thought about protesting, but he knew it was no use. "You're right," he sighed after a pause. "I should have. I was...I love you both, so much. I didn't want to lose either of you. God, I was so scared, Pads."

Sirius looked at him again. "I'm pissed you didn't tell me, Prongs, but it'll take more than kissing my brother to get rid of me."

Relief flooded through James and he grinned. "Right...kissing...that's all."

A grimace crossed Sirius's face. "Yes. That's all."

[magicpotatothoughts]

TGCF reread new finds #1

Xie Lian actively and consciously knows that he is attracted to HC the MOMENT THEY MEET in the Ox Cart. Like it’s not just blank gay panic, he knows.

His beauty was deadly like a sword, sharp and mesmerising. Xie Lian only met his eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes in defeat.

MATE, normally wouldn’t you continue to be mesmerised and can’t peel your eyes away? That is, UNLESS YOURE WHIPPED. XL knows that SL's looks affect him to this degree. Defeat is the key word here.

Also

The distance between them had closed too fast. he suddenly didn't know what to do[...]Xie Lian blanked on the spot. He watched as the tall and slender youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and it made him mutter inwardly, Forgive my sins.

Making a rich young lad carry your things? Making him sleep in your crappy temple? That doesn't warrant the weighty thought? FORGIVE WHAT SINS Xie Lian??!!!

Many village girls saw (HC) and blushed [...] Xie Lian didn't know what they were going to ask, but felt instinctively that it must be stopped at once, and cried, "No!"

Jealous jealous boi! XL WAS POSSESSIVE after ONE night spent together at Puqi Shrine. Didn’t XL just say to SL that he will have no problem in the love department because girls will throw themselves at him? Yo, why are you cock-blocking? Everyone says HC is insane, no XL is equally insane for the other!

Also, when HC revealed that it's his real skin after the Banyue arc, XL instinctively poked him. Then

He looked at his own finger then hid it away, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

What thoughts XL ?!! Explain yourself right now!

Jumping back to OX CART scene, Xie Lian's character development was foreshadowed when they were talking about the gifting of ghost ashes.

Book 1: Xie Lian sighed. "It certainly is painful to think about, to have given everything for love and lose everything in return."

This is what Xie Lian is most afraid of! Like even thinking back to Xie Lian pushing Feng Xin away in Book 4, he definitely operated under that mindset. Love is a risk, it's something to be feared. Even now 800+ years later, he still feels that way and doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone. It just hits so much harder thinking that he operated under that for so many centuries.

Then Hua Cheng says

"What there to be afraid of? If it were me, I'd have no regrets giving away my ashes"

Which I think really changed the way that Xie Lian thought about love. Book 5 Xie Lian completely operates with Love is empowering and isn't something to be afraid of.

TGCF isn't about XL realising his feelings, literally from Book 1 it's about him wondering if it's worthwhile to act on them.

Three things, is this person worth losing cultivation over for?

He needs the reassurance that this person must reciprocate his feelings.

Then HC changed his perspective on love from FEAR -> EMPOWERMENT.

XL is soooo self-aware (unlike SQQ from SVSSS and WWX from MDZS), he's an unreliable narrator in the way that he doesn't reveal everything to the reader, especially his own feelings until he was absolutely sure that there really was both a physical and romantic attraction. I wanted to make this post to dispel the assumption for XL it was easy to forego 800+ years of cultivation. It was not? He ABSOLUTELY thought about it carefully.

[ozzgin]

hi! I'm the anon who said that Daitou is my #1 sweetheart, and I saw your post talking about time-skip Daitou kind in dilf vibes... I'm interested, take all of my money right now !!

also wondering how Daitou would react with a darling who wants kids 💭💭 imagine of she is having a hugeee baby fever ( not me projecting whattt)

Turning this into a general "Would the yakuza men want children?" and other bedroom habits. There's a more detailed answer for Daitou here. Content: female reader (pregnancy talk), mildly NSFW, fluff

You may think of Boss as old-fashioned, but he's seen a fair amount of depravity back in the day. Before gambling was deemed illegal in Japan, he'd owned several casinos in big districts like Ginza and Kabukichō, and consequently spent a lot of time in various parlors. Unlike many of his men, however, he never really cared much for adult entertainment. In his drunken rants he used to say that women would be his downfall, and no one would want to be involved with him, anyways.

He might be into you calling him daddy, although you should expect a lot of dad jokes to go with it. He’s a silly old man like that. Could be interested in shibari, because it takes a lot of patience and skill and he’d probably enjoy taking his time and gazing at you after each knot. It’s quiet and intimate, and he gets to tease you about it afterwards, especially if it’s an arrangement to go under your clothes. “What’s the matter, (Y/N) love? Tongue tied?”

His recurring humor around his age makes you wonder if he’d even be interested in children. When you finally bring up the topic, Boss is very casual about it. “Sure”, he’ll say with a grin, “whatever the missus wants.” You suspect he’s not taking you seriously, but after settling you on his lap and having a hearty laugh about it, he’ll conclude, this time with confidence: “Have a look outside this room. See all those rascals? I raised them! Ya think I can’t handle a bunch of kids?”

Daitou can be surprisingly (and unintentionally) kinky, especially if you encourage him to. He’ll apologize the day after for being too rough, even if you tell him it's fine and you quite literally asked for it (See Valentine's Day incident). Overall, though, I’d say it depends entirely on you. He can be dominant or submissive, according to your wishes. You can go all out with him, he’s sturdier than most and takes great pride in it. If you’re into more extreme hobbies like knife play, you’re certainly in good hands.

Daitou lives in the moment and hasn't really planned too far ahead. Such is the life of a yakuza: you never know when you might lose a limb or more in the next gang fight. He's therefore quite surprised by your proposal of having children in the future. Is it even something realistic for someone like him? On the other hand, it's hard to refuse that enthusiastic smile you're flashing at him each time the topic comes up. "Do you, uh...", he begins one day while looking at baby toys in the store. He fidgets with his prosthetic eye nervously. "Do you really think I'd make a good dad? Heh."

Kazuya can be quite kinky and loves teasing you in public about it. Last time you were hanging out with him and his underlings, you happened to pass by a park bench you'd recently used during your nightly strolls together. “This location is familiar”, he’ll hum with a smirk. “Isn’t this where we…ah. Nevermind.” Despite your frequent protests, he always struggles to keep his mouth shut. Can you really blame him for wanting to brag to others? You're an undeniable catch.

"Kids?" he repeats with a raised eyebrow. Good question, although something he's considered many times already. What, you thought he wouldn't notice your curious glances whenever some woman walks by with a baby stroller? He pretends to ponder your suggestion and declares after a long moment: "Well, you'd certainly make a great milf, and I obviously can't have anyone else do the honors." He picks you up with a mischievous grin on his face. "When do we start?"

[Main Story] | [More Yakuza]

[kiwismitten]

Tired words | Wriothesley x GN!reader

Angst/comfort: Being the frontlines for the whole country’s fate can really make a man lose sleep. After the events that took place, and the sudden return of his lover he’s very snippy.

spoilers: main fontaine archon quest!

CW: yelling , reader almost ded , wriothesley kinda ooc (let me know if i missed anything!)

words: 1751

The halls of the Fortress of Meropide have never felt colder as you make your way to your boyfriend’s office. The events of the days before fresh in everyone’s mind. The incident in Poisson only a few days before your return.

You were on an academic trip to Sumeru, learning about the herbal medicines and picking up some fruits and herbs to bring back to Fontaine. As soon as the steam bird articles showed up at your host home’s door the night of the incident, you apologized and began packing your bags. You’ve never moved with such haste. Of course you know about the prophecy, and Wriothesley had told you before he didn’t even know if he was Fontainian and joked a ton about getting turned into water alongside everyone else. You personally, just weren’t willing to let him take that chance.

The rushed trip back still felt like it took twice as long as the venture there. Jogging through the city with your bag still on your back, listening to depressing conversations from the other citizens about their impending fate. Frantically, you reach the Fortress entrance, and make your way down.

That’s how you ended up standing outside your boyfriend’s office, anxiety coursing through your body. Even the fortress was in disarray. Your soft knocks on the door earn no response, so you slowly push the heavy doors open with a loud creek.

“Darling?” Your voice echos through the bottom floor, your eyes gazing over everything before landing on the strange staircase going further down that you never noticed before.You drop your bags at the door before cautiously venturing down. “Wriothesley?”

A strong hand grabs your shoulder from behind you making you gasp.

“What are you doing?” He looks exhausted, his tone of voice far from the playful, carefree Wriothesley you’ve grown attached to. Sounding closer to how he addresses inmates. Heat fills your torso with joy, seeing he’s okay, and you fling yourself at him wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re okay…” His normal scowl doesn’t leave his face. Different again since his face normally softens at your contact.

“Yes, yes I’m okay what are you doing here.” He says the bags under his eyes more pronounced than normal, sparking worry in your brain.

“I heard what happened in Poisson, and I left early,” You stood in front of him staring up at his towering figure. He sighs, wiping his face with his wrapped hand. His exhaustion seemed to be weighing on him harder at your statement.

“Why.. did you have to come back now?” he pinched the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb. Your joy falters at his display.

“What do you mean darling..” Your arms fall to your sides. He stares at your form, his eyes piercing through you.

“I mean I thought with you away I'd have one less thing to worry about,” Venom laces his words. “Especially coming to the fortress during times like this, I thought I’d finally be able to focus on the prophecy, but now with you here you’ll need me to be with you so often.” Your heart jumps to your throat. He’s never been so cold to you. Has he always seen being with you as a chore, or is it just the high stress of the current situation. The emotions thick in the air make it difficult to think rationally. The salty air filling your lungs feels heavy and overwhelming.

“I’ll get out of the way.. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Glancing down at your feet.

“Well I am. Now please, I have very important matters to get to.” He pushes past you mumbling under his breath. Stunned in silence, soft tears well in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Slowly, you made your way out of the fortress to stay at a small hotel.

You stayed at the hotel for the night, before the news of an archon going on trial reaches you in the morning. News travels fast in Fontaine, especially when there’s always a journalist creeping in the background. Deciding that staying and rotting in a hotel isn’t how you want to spend your first full day home, and you take a short stroll through the bustling streets. It’s as if no one really minds their impending fate. After reaching the opera epiclese you sit at one of the benches by the fountain. Staring into the water you smile remembering all the times you and Wriothesley sat at the near by benches eating together after his work. How you would lean your head on his shoulder listening to the soft roar of water as it cycles through, but if you were to melt into the sea now, it would be knowing that he brushed you away for being worried about him. A sigh escapes your lips as you continue your stroll, and eventually it gets interrupted by a crowd of people trickling out of the opera house. Gossiping amongst themselves about the archon, and not even batting an eye at the soft patter of rain on pavement.

The rain starts to pick up at an alarming rate, making people rush off under trees, and any form of cover they could find. A somber look rises to your face. “Is this it?” You take a seat on your normal bench, getting soaked in the pelting rain feeling the rain pool at your feet closing your eyes and letting the joyful memories flow through you.

All you really remember is the feeling of water picking you up. Floating through with a peaceful look on your face.Then a graceful arm wrapping around you and bringing you up, and you were suddenly in the air able to breath once again before everything went black.

Waking up in the fortress is never really a heart-warming experience. Especially when it’s in the cold clinical setting of the infirmary. The blurry metallic ceiling is the first thing you see, the bronze color only familiar to the fortress, so you’re immediately aware of where you are. You try to sit up, only to get pushed down by the smaller head nurse.

“Y/N be careful please, you’ve been out for a whole day you’re still healing.” Sigewinne frets over you holding her sticker covered clipboard.

“I feel fine,” You sit up in your bed, feeling the exhaustion hit you. You look around the other beds full of inmates. “I just need some food in me, and I’ll be right as rain.” a smile sheepishly crosses your face at the small joke. Sigewinne frowns and huffs as you pick at the various vital trackers attached to you. She helps a bit and takes out your IV.

“Just like his grace said you would,” you tense at the mention of him forcing a smile. “Just stay here he said to grab him as soon as you’re awake.” Eyes widening, you wait for her to leave before pulling the sheets off of yourself and rushing out of the infirmary. Your vision still blurry from the lack of food. Rushing through the halls, you stop at the canteen, smiling at Bran who waves you over.

“Ah y/n here for your welfare meal?” He smiles softly at your tired form before turning behind him to grab one of the nicer meals. “Courtesy of his grace, eat up.” You slip behind one of the many boxes before sitting on the floor and opening the delicious meal.

Wriothesley walks ahead of Sigewinne his heavy steps unmistakable. When he reaches the infirmary and sees your bed empty he curses under his breath. Sigewinne sighs pouting.

“I did ask her to stay your grace, but they did act weird when I mentioned I was fetching you,” Irritated he walks out, going immediately to the gardes who rat you out immediately.

Too immersed in your delicious food you don’t even notice the heavy steps approaching the canteen.

“What can I do for you your grace,” You stop mid-chew peeking out from the top of the box.

“Have you seen y/n I’m looking for them,” his voice has the carefree energy that you missed so much. His eyes dart around the canteen before meeting yours behind the box where you duck under again. “Ah, never mind, bran.” his heavy steps approach the box, his shadow looming over as you pop back up looking at your hands. He places a heavy hand on your head.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly, tears threatening to fall again. At the break of your voice, he scoops you into his arms his long strides carrying you to his office. He wraps his arms around you as you feel small water droplets fall onto your clothes.

“y/n..” his voice cracks. You’ve never seen him break down like this, he’s the strong one, the one that never lets his strength falter. “I was so scared, i’m so sorry, I should’ve never said any of that shit to you, I was so stressed out after the fortress almost collapsed to the prophecy. I wasn’t getting enough sleep I was exhausted and I took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry.” Seeing him crumble on top of you was heart-wrenching. His rambling spilling through his lips as his eyes dart across your face. “When Clorinde brought you onto the ship I just wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, I tried everything but you felt so cold..” He buries his face in your neck.

“I’m okay Wrio, I don’t know what happened but, I’m here I’m fine,” You wrap your arms loosely around his torso. “Honestly I thought I was gonna die with you angry at me, but now I’m here. Getting pushed away hurt, but we’re both okay,” You mumble into his chest.

“I’ll never speak to you like that again, I don’t think I could ever live with myself knowing you left this world with me angry at you when I had no right to be. All you wanted was to make sure I was okay,” He pulls away and holds your face in his hands. “You’re my whole world and I should’ve held that in the front of my mind this whole time. I don’t think I can say sorry enough my love.” His sharp eyes now soft as he leans in to place a soft caring kiss on your lips.

“We’ll be okay,” you melt into his touch, letting him hold you close

[loveandmurders]

Monsters love their wives II (Bo Sinclair x f!reader)

Hello everyone! This is the last part of this mini series about Bo being an idiot and hurting his wife even though he loves her. You can find the first part here.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

Warnings: ANGST, comfort (in a dark way I guess), violence (graphic), blood, murders, fear, strong words, very morally grey reader, toxic relationship, mentions of cheating and sexual activities, mentions of torture, suicide and death, threats of sequestration... But Bo loves you 🥺

Bo had tied up the girl on the chair and had glued her lips together because he didn’t want to hear her screams.

He just needed to take his anger out and she was perfect for that, especially after what she just did. He was beating her with violence and insulting her.

“Ya saw this, whore?” he told her as he showed her his wedding ring “Kissin’ a married man, ya bitch, and believin’ I'd want ya” he said as he punched her face one more time. Her cheeks and eyes were already starting to swollen as her nose and lips were bleeding. He was about to break her fingers one by one, when he heard the door being opened which made him pause. He really hoped it wasn’t you because he didn’t want you to see him covered in blood like that. You were already afraid of him, no need to add more to it.

He was very confused when he saw Vincent coming downstairs and he turned his back to the girl who tried to scream for help.

“Better be important, Vince. Can’t ya see ’m busy right now?” he asked Vincent who started to angrily sign:

"It’s about your wife. Important enough for you?"

“... Ya know she is.” Bo nodded, a little bit worried now.

"Well Y/N thinks you are cheating on her and soon going to kill her! I promise her you were going to kill that bitch in front of her, but you better think of something very fast or you are going to lose her forever."

“What?” Bo was completely taken aback. He felt his heart sinking inside his chest. “But I love her, none of this’ true” he whispered

"Well if you hadn’t fucking hurt her the last morning and if she hadn’t seen you kissing that slut, maybe things would be better right now, fucking idiot!"

“How? What was she doin’ here?” Bo wondered, not even caring about the way Vincent was talking to him.

"Don’t know, don’t care. Bring the girl for a public execution. Because of you, I won’t even be able to use her body for the House of Wax or anything. No need to upset Y/N even more. Good job, really." Vincent paused for a few moments. "Fuck, Bo, don’t tell me you’re cheating on your wife."

“O’course not!” Bo exclaimed as he turned around and gave another vengeful punch on the girl’s face.

She lost consciousness and he started to untie her. Vincent helped Bo bring her back to the house to show you she meant nothing to your husband. 

The eldest Sinclair brother was silent as he was trying to think on how he could fix the situation with you. He also was wondering what you were doing at his garage. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that you came to earn cuddles from him - even if he would have been more than happy to drop his work to show you how sorry he was. 

When you saw the two men in the house, you had to admit you were a little bit relieved to see that Bo’s hands were covered in the girl’s blood and that he didn’t seem like he was in the middle of fucking her when Vincent interrupted him. Bo let the girl fall on the ground without a care in the world and quickly walked to you to cup your face in one hand. You refused to look at him at first but he forced you. He needed to see your eyes and he looked for them before telling you:

“Ain’t cheatin’ on ya, wife”

You swallowed hard and you fought against the thought that he seemed sincere. You removed your face from his hand and looked away. But he grabbed your face once again, in a very gentle way.

“I mean it. Ain’t cheatin’ on ya.” he insisted

“Then why were you kissing that girl?” you asked, gesturing with your head toward the woman

“And what were ya doin’ at the garage?” he asked back and it made you frown.

“Bo” Lester rolled his eyes at his big brother and Vincent also groaned in disapproval at Bo’s question, saving you from answering. 

“Alright, alright” Bo grumbled as he let go of your face and knelt in front of you “She jumped on me, didn’t have time to stop her. Didn’t ya see me pushin’ her away? And once downstairs, I wasn’t… Ya can ask Vince, I was beatin’ her to death when he came. Ya can see the state of her face” he softly told you and you looked at the woman. Vincent roughly grabbed her by the hair to show you her face, and you had to admit she wasn’t looking too good. She groaned in pain as she was slowly getting back to reality.

“What do ya think, sis?” Lester asked you and you nibbled on your bottom lip. 

It was true that it didn’t seem that Bo was cheating on you with that girl in particular. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to kill you, and it didn’t mean you shouldn’t find a way out of Ambrose whenever you would be able to.

“Just kill her already. But not on my floor. I don’t want blood everywhere” you finally replied.

The boys relaxed a little, because you still seemed to consider this house as your home. Hence, it meant you weren’t going to leave. Bo kissed your forehead and you had to resist the urge to flinch away from him. He grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her out of the house. Lester and Jonesy stayed by your side as the twins quickly put her out of her misery. She was quite lucky you had been there or your husband would have tortured her for hours before killing her. 

“How feelin’?” Lester asked you and you simply shrugged

“Gonna grab that nap now” you replied and he nodded.

“Sounds like a plan, love” he agreed and he helped you to get up and followed you upstairs. He tucked you to bed and wished you to sleep well before closing the door behind him. Jonesy stayed with you and settled at your feet. You took comfort in her presence.

You did sleep a few hours, but you woke up covered in sweat, with the very clear thought that you needed to run away now. You didn’t remember the dream you had before waking up, but it was obviously a nightmare. You were feeling absolutely panicked. It woke up Jonesy who asked to get out of the room. So you got up, opened the door for her and then you frantically started to look for clothes in your wardrobe. You needed to find an outfit you would be comfortable in and you needed good shoes and…

You heard a very soft knock at the door and you froze, as Bo slowly opened it. He was about to ask you how you were doing and if you were hungry, when he saw you. Your hair was sticking to your forehead. You looked like a deer caught in headlights; you looked almost ill. He locked the door before coming closer to you. The gesture alone made you sick.

“Whatcha doin’?” he softly asked, his blue eyes piercing yours. 

“Just… looking for clothes… I need a shower. I’m not feeling too well” you replied, half the truth, aware he would instantly know if you were lying to him.

“Still thinkin’ ‘m cheatin’ on ya?” he asked as he took a step closer to you and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t trust your voice so you simply shook your head. “But ya’re still afraid ’m gonna kill ya?” he asked again and you cursed yourself for having said that to Vincent and Lester. You should have been smarter.

“I just need a shower. Please let me unlock the door” you said because you were just unable to sincerely reply to this question. You grabbed an outfit, without even really looking at it and you tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist.

“I know I shouldn’t’ve hurt ya” he said as he brought you closer to him. He took the clothes you had in your hands and threw them on the bed. He took both of your hands in his. “I was worried my wife wanted to go. O’course, I shouldn’t’ve reacted that way. But even if ya’re afraid of me, for the moment, ya don’t want to go no more? Ya know your place’s in Ambrose, by my side, right? Ya know I want ya and only ya? Ya know I’ll never let ya go anyways?” he whispered to you with a gentle smile

“Is it a threat?” you asked as you tried to stay strong. He quickly shook his head

“Ah baby, it’s just a promise. We’re married, remember? Together 'till the end.” he mused as he stroked your nose with his.

“Yes, untill you kill me” you told him and he looked back at you, his head moving to the side. It was really saddening for him.

“What were ya doin’ at my garage earlier?” he asked but you didn’t answer “where ya trying to find a way out? Did ya think ya could find some help?” he asked and you looked away. He grabbed your face, a little less gently than earlier that day “Answer, Y/N” he sternly told you and you heard the danger just under the surface of his calm voice

“I wanted to find a way out, yes” you admitted and it made Bo groan in anger.

“And why that? Don’t ya know it’s your duty to stay by my side, as my wife?” he asked you as he pushed you against the nearest wall. You just wanted to cry again but you didn’t want to give him that kind of power over you.

“And you, isn’t it your duty to take care of me? To be good to me? As my husband?” you asked back “You hadn’t been nice to me in weeks. You even did this to me then” you continued as you moved a hand on your sore and bruised throat.

Bo stayed silent and his dark demeanour instantly disappeared. He tenderly stroked your cheek before bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss.

“Don’t be afraid and don’t leave, and things will go back to normal” he promised

“I’m afraid, Bo” you replied

“It won’t happen again. I’ll do better. But don’t try to leave” he warned you

“Or what? You'll kill me?” you insisted, even though you knew you were playing with fire in this instant

“But love, why would I do that?” he asked as he pressed himself even more against you. You could feel his breath against your face “Don’t want to kill my wife. I want ya here, with me, forever” he whispered to you

“You can always ask Vince to turn me into a wax statue” you said and he let escape a humourless laugher

“A wax statue wouldn’t argue, talk and flirt with me, wouldn’t make love to me, wouldn’t tell me it loves me… Ya still love me, wife?” he asked as his lips were almost against yours but you turned your head to the side to prevent him from kissing you “Oh com’on, doll, ‘m missin’ ya so badly” he whined

“So what would you do if I left? You said…” you started but he cut you off

“Ya know that when ‘m angry, I say stuff I don’t mean. But I do mean that ya better don’t try to leave. I would indeed hunt ya down and bring ya back to Ambrose, where ya belong”

“And that’s all?” you asked, you needed to know what Bo had planned for you

“And I would tie ya up on that bed until ya would behave like a good girl. If I need to lock ya up inside the house to keep ya here, be certain it’s what I’ll do, without a second of hesitation. So do I need to tie ya up, love? Or will ya be a good girl to me?” he asked

You didn’t even need to think; you cupped his face with both your hands and you crashed your lips against his. You didn’t want to be tied up. You didn’t want to lose the small freedom you still had by badly reacting now. You were still afraid but you needed to be smart. Bo instantly replied to the kiss, so happy to finally be allowed to touch you that way. He was passionate, but also so gentle with you, as if he was afraid he could break you if he was too forceful. His hands were soon all over your body, enjoying to feel you. You were a drug to him, and not being able to touch you was quickly making him lose it. His lips trailed down from your mouth to your throat. He left very tender little kisses all over your skin, as a silent way to apologise for what he did. 

“Fuckin’ love ya” he whispered to you “Ya know that, right? Would go completely insane without ya in my life. That’s why I can’t let ya go. That’s why I needed us to get married. I’m gonna be good to ya, I swear. As long as ya don’t try to go” he murmured to you in between kisses.

You simply nodded because you had no idea what to answer to this. You were a little bit surprised by such words and touch, and you wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of your fear of the man, and you wanted things to go back to normal.

But something was broken now, and Bo would need to work very hard to fix this, and a lot of time and patience for things to truly go back to normal.

“Still love me, right?” he insisted because you hadn’t answered when he had first asked you. He slightly moved from you to observe you, eagerly waiting for those three little words to resume his kisses and lovingly caresses. You nodded.

“Of course, I love you” you said and the man instantly smiled and went back to loving on you.

It was then it hit you: you might have married a very dangerous man who could so easily kill you, he was a lost puppy without you.

“Hey, Bo” you said and he looked up at you. “I don’t want you to take care of the women anymore.” you told him

“Anythin’ you wanna” he nodded

“And if you ever hurt me again… I’ll make sure, you’ll never have me again either” you promised him and he frowned without understanding

“What?” he softly asked

“Married 'till the end, you said, and you’re not the only one who can kill me. I can too” you explained and his eyes widened

“Y/N” he whined “Don’t say such things” he whimpered, knowing he wouldn’t last more than a few hours without you in his life. And he couldn’t fight Death. 

His lips found yours again, hoping to make you stop saying such horrible words and promises. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his wife. He would rather die.

However Bo never forgot those words.

Like you never tried to run away from him anymore.

--

Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

[fuctacles]

<< six | 😺 | eight >>

"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment." 

Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.

"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.

"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.

Over the couch that he fell asleep on.

He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.

"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"

Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.

"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone." 

"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly. 

Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out. 

"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.

"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg. 

"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight. 

"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.

"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."

"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand. 

Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.

"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles. 

"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments. 

"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins. 

"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully. 

"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises. 

"You better."

They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance. 

"Want some tea?"

"I guess I should go."

They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."

"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest. 

Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver. 

"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself. 

"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."

"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"

"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."

"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.

Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.

"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."

"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it." 

Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally. 

"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff. 

"He is?" Steph picks up curiously. 

"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."

"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.

"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next. 

"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."

"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions. 

"What nonsense is he telling about me?"

"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."

"Excuse me?"

Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers. 

"When was the last time you had your hair done?"

"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."

Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure. 

"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."

Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass. 

"But I already got a beer," he points out. 

She shakes her head. 

"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."

She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him. 

But he'd probably do anything she asked for. 

"Then, uh... Sure, I guess."

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter twenty — get the fuck out (🎂)

The wind was carrying a chill on his skin like it lived on his being, a cold damp fog.

The sun was sinking beneath the homes, and the evening seemed to hold his break with him. He, Ei, and Yae were standing there in front of the familiar door they've all frequented. One leading the way, calm and resolute, the other begrudgingly trailing behind her while his mind gloomed. The third? Amused, eyes glimmering with merriment at the mother-son relationship.

"I reckon you tell them that you'll leave them alone," Yae suggested. "All of it is quite petty, I'm sure they'll understand why we're here to have you two make amends anyway."

"I have no doubt that's what you think, especially since you both love to be resolute bitches about it—"

"Oh? No, continue, I'd love for you to finish that thought." Ei replied, standing tall and unmoving, face of quiet authority. After a brief interlude of his quietude, she ground her teeth. "Do not cross me, you are already in hot water."

Ei's gaze burned into him in front of that door, she knocked, the sound echoing with enough command. Kuni's throat tightened in disgust, mind racing for an immediate escape, any way out of this predicament, but Ei was always one to play her cards well. He was trapped here whether he liked it or not.

The door opened slowly upon looking through the peep hole, revealing you, who looked at all three of them with weariness. "Hello..." You said awkwardly, but there wasn't much of a smile on your face than usual. Kuni's heart skipped a beat, and there was a heavier feeling to the air that he couldn't shake from you. It was easy talking shit to them on the phone, but when he knew something was wrong here, it was strange.

"We won't take up much of your time, I apologize if we burdened you right now!" Yae chirped. "I'm so glad to see you yet again. You get cuter and cuter each time I see you, (Y/N). Like a little button."

You didn't know how to respond to that, frankly, except with a half-hearted smile. Your eyes moved back to the other two, your heart dropping at the situation. Ei's grip on Kuni's hair was sudden and firm, her thin fingers weaving through his mauve filaments with a controlled ease. She forced his head down, tugging him into a bow.

"No more. No more fighting, no more altercations. Apologize, Kunikuzushi," She said, her tone ironclad. "For all of it."

He bit the inside of his cheek, losing the hope he had for this going how he wanted it. He refused to let his own pride be threatened as it roared in seething rebellion. Up his neck creeped humiliation, but his mother's grip tightened. She refused to let go. His head still bowed, he forced the words out, all of the syllables dripping from his lips were involuntary.

"You've been through a lot because of me. I shouldn't have done what I have, and maybe I should have also realized that when I was doing it. I'm still learning how to regulate, it doesn't come to me naturally." Kuni said, hollow, half-hearted. He couldn't help it. Every tendril of his being wanted to rip away from how pathetic this display looked.

He felt their gazes on him, like a lion in a circus, studying his every move and reaction, waiting for him to crack under his own ego. "Oh, you think that's enough?" Yae said, tilting her head. "You're still acting as if this is a game, but there's no place for them anymore. How unfortunate."

"...We will move on from this. Please consider forgiving me in the future, when your heart allows it." Kuni hissed through clenched teeth, fist trembling at his sides. Fury boiled under his skin, but he kept his eyes locked on the ground like he was commanded, avoiding eye contact, wincing at his mother's nails digging into him. "Let me go. You're fucking hurting me."

"Words. All words, but I haven't heard an actual apology yet." Ei replied calmly.

You didn't know how to react still, all of this rushed in your face like it was a surge of energy. You seemed calm and measured, but looking at how your ex-boyfriend was being handled by his mother yet again, watching him struggle with the prospect of even apologizing to you, knowing that you hardly deserved one yourself...it was hard. Too much to deal with right now.

Your heart tightened, eyebrows furrowing as you avoided eye contact with Kuni as well. "...This seems like a waste of time. Get home safely." You said, the emotional storm raging moments before in your mind was rid of promptly, more stoic and irritable with your speech. You turned around, shutting the door quickly behind you, cutting through that moment with air taut like a wire.

To what you thought was normal, infuriated him. Kuni's teeth grinded together, his eyes darkening in annoyance. The way you said that so casually, like you just washed your hands for ten seconds of the entire ordeal and left it. Like you were already miles away from him, digging under his skin tauntingly. You got the last word in, watching him be humiliated under the guise that you deserved that forgiveness.

He couldn't stand it. Being dragged here, forced to grovel, after he had swallowed his own dignity while it tasted raw and bitter in his throat. Spitting out an apology to you...one you hardly had any business responding to. You dismissed him, as if none of what he did matter. As if he didn't matter. It was gnawing at his core, left sweltering in his mess.

His movements were stiff and jerky as he followed the two women to the car, silently fuming. You were not going to take control of what he thought he was warranted.

It was surreal to think that the remains of your brother were in your hands rather than his own arms encompassing you. In those warm, now unfamiliar feeling hugs he gave you.

The day had been spent finalizing the plans for Kazuha's funeral. The weight of your heartache overwhelmed you a lot, especially when Kuni and his family stopped by. The bakery had closed for the day, and your employees, more like family than staff, had insisted on joining you as moral support. You didn't feel comfortable with their continuous acts of kindness towards you, but you accepted anyway. Who were you to deny any more help, anyway?

It was a private funeral, bringing you strange comfort barely anyone except other family members and distant friends knew about it. Their faces softening the edges of your overall sorrow.

You sat in front of the altar with tired eyes, rubbing them to rid of your tears and to ebb the exhaustion. Your hands shook as they rested on the smooth, cold surface of the urn that held his ashes. It wasn't real to you, the only one after your mother's death who was always able to help you live in quiet grace, had been reduced to this. You lived yet again in your sorrow, except extra this time.

With no energy left to think about anything else, the details crafted with care in Kazuha's funeral spoke wonders. The cherry blossoms arranged, incense burning softly, candles delicately flaring. There was nothing left to distract you from the possibility that he was gone.

The filling air of sandalwood neighboring the air while the incense curled smoke into the room. White lilies around a large photograph of Kazuha that you had to retrieve from your mothers room. No longer dusty, but the sanctity of the promise that you kept to Kazuha disappearing as well. You didn't even want to look at it, feeling the sense of betrayal rotten your heart with guilt. He was in the peak of his youth, eyes bright with the amicable, ethereal tranquility of his beaming face. A smile so gentle and sincere, haunting you forever. You never saw the photo before this, and now that you have, it'll follow you like a ghost.

Your flood gates cracked and spurted out, until your tears began to pour out uncontrollably again. Sobs raw and aching as your entire body wracked, echoing through the mildly quiet room. Your body was heavy to you, every bone in your body converting to stone, with a misery so sagacious that you weren't sure if you were stuck there for the next few minutes or hours.

Weeping like a baby, allowing your tears to drip onto your clothes, the memories you could never share with him again, for the future planned that would never come to pass. He died in the past, the reassurance he left you with when you were just breaking up with your ex-boyfriend and you were shattered once again. But not like this, not like how you wept for the moments you had taken for granted with your family. For the times you assumed you would have more time.

Xingqiu, Chongyun, Bennett, Beidou, and Gaming stayed there beside you, presence warm but quiet as they ruminated in the sorrow themself. One by one, they knelt beside you and bowed their heads in respect to the memory of Kazuha, a quiet prayer escaping their lips every now and then that you could hear.

"It's okay," Beidou softly whispered, rubbing your back. "It's okay to take your time. There's nothing wrong with taking a break, kid. Feel out your emotions."

"To you." You choked out, tone exerting a little snappy.

As Beidou's eyebrows raised, your gaze sharpened as you stared at the photo again. This time, a glint of hopelessness and null in your expression.

"I genuinely hope that none of you ever have to feel what it's like to come home, and be crushed by your own dejection. To feel like there's a giant anchor pressing down on your chest, every single second. Pummeling you from the inside out, stripping you down until you're weaker and weaker." Your voice trembled, leaving the rest of them quiet again. "I don't have the luxury to feel out my emotions, or I crumble again. I'm so tired of crumbling."

The following days, the bakery remained open after the funeral. You didn't give yourself time to exactly take a long break. It should have been expected of you, or forced, but the rest of the employees figured it would a better idea to let you do what you need to do to cope with it.

The bakery was dimly lit, with the television in the corner of the room playing Balladeer and the Cult's new music video for the fourth time today. The entire staff were quiet other than the frequent chatter, and the soft clinking of dishes as the workers cleaned up for the night. It was the kind of silence that would tell tales of wonders involving your situation. You were in the back, wrapping everything up and making sure you wrote what needed to be stocked for the morning.

"I like when they do that fun lyrical thing that starts with 'I had my pants on my head like a hat', and ends with...'the police department's refusal to comply in a timely manner with open records request is a middle finger to the marginalized'. You know what I'm saying?" Gaming rambled.

"No clue." Xingqiu said dully.

"They have to make the feds give up early on the song, so they turn it off before they get to the part that calls it out." Chongyun grinned.

"It's like when you steal sandwich bags from the burger shop across the street, and you think the sandwich bags have shit in it, right? No. The entire layout to a compartment of different type of bombs located in Natlan."

"Why are you stealing sandwich bags from them? I'm telling." Xingqiu's eyes narrowed. "Snitching to the court."

"You do that, and I'm not letting you use my Dreamcast anymore. I'm tired of you ratting me out." Gaming scrunched his face up before walking to the back to clean the kitchen with Beidou.

The atmosphere was considerably lax, but there was always a shade of apprehension all of them shared with your newfound attitude. You forced yourself to focus on closing, the others trying to keep a bright side about them. You could only target yourself to think about Kazuha, the pain of absence. Knowing that when you go home, he'll be there, but not as a physical body.

The sound of the front slamming open jarred everybody who heard it, the small bell above the door rattling aggressively against its frame. Chongyun stiffened at the abrupt sound, it being cut short as they all turned toward the person who walked in. The boy's jaw dropped, blinking twice to make sure if who he's seeing wasn't the guy who was just on TV.

"Uh—" He wanted to keep his wits about him and start spilling fan-made excitement, but he was too floored to even do that. "We're...about to close, sir!"

"Not here for bread, or whatever the fuck you guys have. Fetch (Y/N)."

Xingqiu's eyebrows furrowed. "They're...not here right now. If you want to talk to them, come back tomorrow, we'll be open for a while."

"Oh, are they not? Crazy, considering I see their car behind the lot. I checked, don't think I'm one of your little customers." Kuni cut him off, voice dripping with venom as he sized the workers up. "I'm not in the mood. Either go get them now, or I'll run through all of you."

Chongyun hesitated, awkwardly turning his body towards Xingqiu who shrugged in response. He headed towards the back to relay the information, while you were still working. When he reached you, his voice went quiet while he told you what was going on, almost apologetic. Your blood ran cold.

There was an anger that swelled in your chest, hands squeezing into fists. Without a word, you stormed out quickly, expression set with burning fury. The sight of him again, this time in casual clothing and a neutral demeanor, your vision blurred with rage and small guilt. "Why are you here?!" Your voice shook with rage, your voice could barely raise at him. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Have I done enough? Understand this, you bitch," He immediately started coming closer to you. "You're not off the hook for what you did. You may be used to people forgiving you instantly after batting your eyelashes and giggling like fucking Minnie Mouse, but I'm not the one.

"Okay? Then, what do you want from me?!" You grit your teeth. "You say all this, and then have a hard time not being vague. What is it?! Tell me!"

"Coddled your entire life, skipping out on your responsibilities because things got a little hard," He took a step closer, which lead for you to open the distance again. Except this time, his hand swiped the entire row of glasses that were on display down on the wooden floor with a loud crash. Your eyes widened. "Now you get to stay here, complacent in my misery, just because you think you deserve it? I'll take all this shit away from you."

His anger marinated long enough, it bubbled to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. His chest was tight looking at you, suffocating in his grip of emotions he buried deep for too long. Enough was enough, he felt sick with the flour and sugar clinging to every surrounding. Everything was quiet to him here, too perfect. And for him, wrong.

A sneer warped his lips, and there were more crashes. The noise cut through the bakery, the workers flinching, but you couldn't even move. Beidou immediately ran to the front, her face twisted into rage. "Get the fuck out, now! You have no business being in here."

She was about to rush over to kick him out, but you shook your head, subduing her form from going closer. "You're not mad because of me, get your facts straight before you start talking to me like that."

His chest heaved at that, and he could only laugh. The sound of his ragged breaths became aggressive, grabbing at dishes and sending them all careening across the floor with a brutal snap of his wrist. "All of this shit," Another one, the sound harsh against the floor. "ALL OF IT, I want all the good things to fucking rot for the part you played in ruining the good things we had."

Your heart pounded in your ears in moderate fear, louder than the crashes and the gasps coming from the rest of your workers. You felt yourself become suffocated, like there was thick smoke restricting you. Everything felt too tight, your skin and the walls of the bakery itself. He kept shattering your things, breaking every single item that came across his path. There were crimson cuts on his hand, the bleeding on his hands and the glass embedded on his skin making you flinch. He welcomed it.

"Deluding yourself with all of this! You're fucking delusional!" He screamed in your face, "Why can't you wake up and take fucking charge of your own destiny, rather than following a dream you made up because you don't want to be reminded that HE'S FUCKING DEAD. WHERE ARE YOU?"

You could only laugh at him, feeling your cheeks burn from how flustered you were. "Get out." Your voice was dangerously low, trembling as you barely controlled your fury. Those words poisoned you, and tears immediately started rolling down your face, lip quivering.

Kuni just stood there, taking in your words as his breath labored, chest heaving up and down, eyes scanning you in disbelief. But you couldn't stand to see him anymore, because you knew what he was saying about you was true. You grabbed your own glass from the counter and hurled it at him, "Get out," smash, "GET out," smash, "GET THE FUCK OUT."

You grabbed another, and another, before entirely ridding of the glass pieces and started throwing chairs at him for him to swiftly dodge. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, feeling humiliated that you were losing your mind in front of your employees, but you could not do this anymore. "You didn't want to see me anymore, right?! You've got it. Get out! I don't EVER want to see you again."

"So he is dead?" He taunted, voice lower as he started laughing too, his throat hardly making out the sound while it only came out choked as well, too stunned to care. "How's that fantasy working out for you now? At least persistence is a great substitute for actual talent."

Your knuckled connected with his jaw as soon as he leaned in closer, and you fucked him up hard. Sound coming off as a dull thud, followed by a grunt coming from Kuni's throat. You got him in between his lips and the center of his nostrils, causing the crimson blood to sputter immediately once he stepped back. He held onto his nose, instinctively going for his face while his liquid red stained exterior dripped.

The bruise was already beginning to form where your punch had landed. He hadn't expected you to fight back, but something flickered in his eyes. Something that wasn't rage this time, but delightfulness? You stood there, panting, your own hand now pained from how hard the clash was. "Leave," Your voice cracked. "Leave...before I do something worse."

It was obviously a serious reaction, he realized it by the time you were screaming at him. So as the adrenaline dissipated, the power of everything hit him all at once, and he narrowed in on your tear-filled gaze with incredulous relief.

"Welcome back." His pride fought him again to say anything else, so he wiped the blood on his lip, and turned on his heel to leave.

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

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@suniika @animeobsessed56 @kamisstufff @samyayaya @scarawiki

@mywillt0live @lxkeeeee @sundays-prince @imnotyizhuo

[kuroppiii]

  soft launch ᵕ̈        timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly   ⋮⋮  little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮  right ?

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛     ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”

you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.

your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.

if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.

but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.

the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.

to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.

“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.

"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.

you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.

the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.

“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.

he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”

and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.

you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.

his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.

as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.

he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.

so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.

but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"

you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"

in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.

you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.

almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.

there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".

"here from the repost"

"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"

"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"

and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".

shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.

surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.

as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)

hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.

after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.

then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.

but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”

his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.

“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”

“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.

you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.

“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.

you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”

“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.

one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.

you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."

"hm?"

trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”

"hm?!!"

you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.

he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“

you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.

"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.

a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.

“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."

you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.

"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.

"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”

you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.

he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”

the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”

you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"

he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.

“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”

       ⇩  ⇩  ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::

a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.

you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.

the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"

you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.

your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.