#finally given up on putting this in one of my own fics I just can't find anywhere it fits or makes sense to come up
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
five-and-dimes · 1 year ago
Text
Here’s a headcanon I don’t know what to do with:
Once they get together, at the end of nights when Dream visits, Hob will take his hand and say, “Stay?” and Dream without fail will respond, “Yes.”
Now here’s the thing about this little routine. At no point is a full sentence spoken out loud.
So from Hob’s point of view, every night he is asking “Will you please stay?” and Dream is saying “Yes I will stay because you asked me to.” But from Dream’s point of view, Hob is asking “Do you want to stay?” and Dream is saying “Yes, please allow me to stay.”
Both think the other one is doing them a favor. Both think they are the one making a request and the other is the one fulfilling it. They’re both carrying around gratitude towards the other for being kind enough to “indulge” them and spend extra time together.
I don’t know how they would ever find out about this strange ongoing miscommunication or what the reaction would be. I just think it sounds like something that would happen to them. They're both emotionally compromised idiots.
356 notes · View notes
kaysungshine · 5 months ago
Text
Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Part II out now!
{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)
{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end
{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?
{ WC } - 6.7k
{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!
{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡
Tumblr media
It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.
"Finally, what kept you so late?"
You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.
You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.
Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.
"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."
"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.
You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.
Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.
It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.
"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.
"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.
"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.
You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."
"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.
"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.
Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."
"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."
Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."
This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."
Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."
You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."
"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."
You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.
"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.
"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.
"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.
"Deal." You say. 
You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.
Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.
He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.
Tumblr media
You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.
Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 
You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.
It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 
Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.
As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 
You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.
But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.
There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.
Tumblr media
You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?
Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.
He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.
To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."
"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.
"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."
"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.
"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.
Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.
"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"
He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."
He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.
"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.
"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.
"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"
"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.
"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.
Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."
He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."
"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.
"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"
You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.
"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."
He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.
"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"
"Green, my entire head green."
"That would look interesting." You laugh.
You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.
However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.
"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"
"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.
Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 
You think you could listen to him laugh all day.
You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."
Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"
"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.
He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."
The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.
Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.
Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 
"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."
"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.
When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?
You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."
The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?
"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.
You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."
Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.
"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 
"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.
"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.
"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.
"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.
Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.
"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.
"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.
"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 
You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.
"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.
You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.
Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."
"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.
The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.
You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.
"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.
"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."
"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.
Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.
"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 
"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"
He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."
"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.
"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.
"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"
Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."
"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.
"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.
"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."
"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.
"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.
"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.
Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."
Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?
Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.
"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"
"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."
Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.
"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."
Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.
You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.
"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.
"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"
This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.
He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.
Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.
"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.
It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"
He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."
He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"
"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.
"What's one of your kinks?"
You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.
"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.
You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.
"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.
"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.
"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.
"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 
"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.
"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 
You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.
He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."
"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.
"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."
"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.
"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.
You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.
You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.
But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.
Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.
"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.
"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.
Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."
"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."
"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.
When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.
Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.
"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.
Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"
Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.
More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.
Tumblr media
Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?
"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.
He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."
You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.
You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.
You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.
It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...
He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."
You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.
Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.
You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.
Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.
When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.
"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.
You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.
You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.
Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.
He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.
Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"
His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."
Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."
With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.
Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.
"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 
And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.
"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.
He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.
"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.
Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.
"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.
Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.
Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.
He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."
All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 
So instead you say, "Okay."
Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 
"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.
You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.
You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.
Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.
"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.
And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.
"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.
You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."
"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."
Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.
"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.
You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"
He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."
You smack him again, a little harder this time.
"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.
You knew that wasn't all, "And?"
"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."
"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.
"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."
You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."
"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"
With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.
Tumblr media
When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.
You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.
You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.
You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.
"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"
You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.
Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.
You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.
You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.
Tumblr media
Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡
2K notes · View notes
marwhoa · 1 year ago
Text
request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.
Tumblr media
🝮 “ green with envy ”
rise!boys x y/n
author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?
word count: 6.1k
Tumblr media
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌
Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.
But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.
It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.
But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.
Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?
So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.
The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.
“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”
Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.
“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”
“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”
He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!
“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”
Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.
“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”
He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.
“ Mm? Leo? ”
You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.
Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.
Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?
“ What in carnation? ”
There you went, first with a light and short laugh.
“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”
Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.
“—but, beleaf it or not—“
He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.
“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”
You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.
“ Y/N… ”
His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.
“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“
He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.
“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”
“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”
“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“
The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.
“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”
“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”
If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.
“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”
It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.
“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”
As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.
“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”
“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”
Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.
This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌
Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.
While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.
The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.
When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.
Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.
Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.
That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.
The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.
Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.
You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.
More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.
He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.
But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?
It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.
“ Raph! “
You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.
When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?
How could he be so stupid?
So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.
“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”
His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.
“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”
“ Wha? ”
“ You—You! ”
He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.
“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”
Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.
“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”
“ Then why do you like him more!? ”
“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”
You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.
“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”
His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.
“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”
You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌
If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.
While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.
Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.
You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.
And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.
The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.
Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.
The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.
That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.
Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.
Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.
“ Oh sh—“
Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.
Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?
Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…
Safer?
In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.
… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.
The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.
But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.
Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.
“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”
He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.
From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.
So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.
The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?
And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.
The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..
But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.
The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.
“ Y/N, can we talk? ”
Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.
“ Of course, dear. ”
That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.
“ Raph? ”
You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..
“ Raph…? ”
Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!
“ Do you like Leo? ”
“ What. ”
Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.
But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!
“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”
Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.
“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”
You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.
“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”
While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.
“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”
There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.
“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”
He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”
“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”
Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.
Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌
The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?
Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.
Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.
So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?
No? Just me?
Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.
But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.
Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?
Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.
But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?
The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.
No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.
“ Y/N. ”
Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.
“ Let’s go,”
Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.
“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”
The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.
“ Of course not, Dee. ”
Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.
“ Right. ”
He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.
The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?
What the heck, man?
“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”
Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.
You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”
Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.
“ Annoyed sigh. ”
While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.
“ Alright, spill it. ”
You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.
“ Spill what? ”
He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.
“ Spill wh—?! ”
Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!
“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”
His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.
“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”
That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.
“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”
Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,
“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”
Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.
Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.
“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”
There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…
“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”
You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.
“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”
The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”
“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”
Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.
“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”
Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.
“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”
Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.
“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”
Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.
“ Wait, you do? ”
“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”
Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.
“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”
His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.
“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”
You softened as his gaze fell onto you.
“ Because you were there.. ”
Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.
“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”
“ You were just… Jealous? ”
Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.
“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”
He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.
“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”
Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.
“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”
With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.
Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
reds-skull · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The frames of the video from the comic in the previous post. I experimented a lot with this, it was really fun to work with this chunky brush I found. Also the first time I draw the Reaper of Destruction as it was before Lumity!
More comments under the cut+a frame I ended up scrapping!
I'll go by order of appearance, because it's basically a chronological retelling of the events of part 1.
So the first frame is the least fancy because it was the first and I didn't nail down a style for this yet lol. It shows Ghost and Soap's first true meeting, in chapter 1, where Ghost helps Soap when he gets impaled by a rebar.
The second frame jumps to chapter 8, when Ghost first put Soap in Limbo. The triangle around them was a later addition, taken from the next frame. I love this scene, it's so fun to see it drawn out now :)
The third frame was the most important one to nail the style. I painted a whole frame, only to come back to it the next day and restart from almost 0.
This is the original third frame
Tumblr media
They both show the same event - chapter 21, the second time Soap is thrown into Limbo. The difference is, one shows a more literal image of what happened, and the other is more symbolic.
And by now I think you know how much I love symbolism lol
What also bothered me with the scraped painting is that the composition isn't central, and the entire pose, while more dynamic, isn't fitting the mural feel the rest has.
There's an even earlier version of the scrapped painting, with Soap's face, but nowhere else there are faces in these series, so I went wild with it and covered it with flames. He had them behind him already, as the description of this scene in the fic says Soap had a helo of fire behind him.
(also hated how Limbo's victims looked in the scrapped version like... ew lol)
There wasn't a real reason to add the circles around Soap. I just wanted to lean more heavily into the mural style. But I took that circle motif to the end, after that, and added it to Ghost as well, hence the triangle.
Soap has one skeletal hand, and one palm. That one is on purpose, to show he's hanging in between life and death.
The fourth frame is pretty self-explanatory, it shows the part in chapter 21 where Soap gets the dark marks on his forearm. If the colors look weird in that one, it's because I messed with them so much I couldn't tell if they look good anymore on not
The fifth frame shows another favorite moment of mine, the moment Ghost gets his marks, the white tear tracks, when he finally notices Soap fighting in the void.
The sixth frame is my favorite of the bunch. Soap and Ghost, the triangle and circle combined. The moment they killed Graves, Ghost in full control of his subjects, Soap with his sword of white fire and army of burning moths. They look so scary in this one I love them
The seventh frame shows Void and Destruction. Void was straight forward, I've drawn it a few times before, but I had to make a more detailed design for Destruction, and I only had the very first sketches I made for Revenant AU to go off of, as well as Lumity's design. Idk why I designed Lumity before Destruction, but that's how it is. I wanted Destruction melting, like it can't handle its own heat.
The eighth frame is of Void and Destruction combining. In the fic they had in-between states, it didn't look like this, but for the sake of the video I thought it'd be nicer to have a clear frame of them combining.
The ninth and last frame is of our beloved Lumity. Their design is a little more detailed than the drawing I made a while back. This frame is also the only one that interacts with the foreground, aka Makarov. I think he was jump-scared, don't know how much that comes across.
Damn I had a lot to write. Well, when given the opportunity to ramble...
197 notes · View notes
groceryreceiptss · 1 year ago
Text
𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested
summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.
contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!
a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3
credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)
───────────────────────
The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going. 
Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground. 
“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?” 
“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.” 
Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.
The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?”  You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.
You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed. 
“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”
He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”
You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."
He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.
"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.
“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.” 
“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”
Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”
Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”
“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”
He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.
Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.
Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.
Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."
"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.
You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."
Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.
"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"
"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?
You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.
Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.
He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.
You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"
He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.
But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."
He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."
"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.
Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.
"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"
───────────────────────
742 notes · View notes
darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago
Text
Leader of the Pack 1
Tumblr media
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.
Characters: James Conrad, short!reader
Note: it’s hump dayyyy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
Tumblr media
"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 
"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 
"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 
"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  
The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 
You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 
"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 
"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 
You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 
"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 
"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 
You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 
"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 
You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 
"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 
"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 
"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 
The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 
"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 
"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 
"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 
"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 
She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  
"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 
You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 
They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 
The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 
"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 
She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 
"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 
"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 
He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 
"Thank you," you squeak. 
Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 
Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 
You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 
"You wanna break?" You ask. 
"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 
You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 
She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 
You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 
She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 
She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 
She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 
You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  
"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 
"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 
You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 
"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 
"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 
"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 
"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 
You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 
"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 
"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 
"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 
"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  
You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 
"I'll break," Sy insists. 
"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 
He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 
Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 
“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 
You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 
That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 
You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 
It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 
“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 
He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 
Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 
“You’ve got another go,” James says. 
You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 
Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 
You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.
This can’t be real. 
217 notes · View notes
baldursgate3tempobsessed · 1 year ago
Note
Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.
Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!
Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~
Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀
You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.
You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.
It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.
But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.
You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.
Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.
You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.
Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.
How things had changed.
You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.
It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".
"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"
It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.
"What has you pouting sweet thing?"
You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.
"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.
"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."
You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.
You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."
You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.
"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."
You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"
"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.
All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.
And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."
You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."
It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.
"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."
The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.
Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."
You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.
You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."
"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.
"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"
You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."
You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.
He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"
You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.
"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"
You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.
A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."
You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.
"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"
"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"
"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."
You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"
"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."
"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.
"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."
There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.
"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."
Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."
Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.
You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.
You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.
"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."
718 notes · View notes
moodymelanist · 12 days ago
Text
once bitten (and twice shy)
Merry Christmas, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk! Tis I, your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy this fic and I'm hoping to try and post all of it this week to not keep you waiting too long... but in the meantime, enjoy the first part of this 5+1 that I've been toying around with! 🩷
thank you so much to @acotargiftexchange for putting this amazing event together! I can't wait to see what else is in store this week 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Tumblr media
Summary: When Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn take a Christmas vacation, Nesta gets far more than she bargained for with the hot guy staying next door.
(Or 5 times Nesta didn't have time for Cassian, plus 1 time she finally did)
Read on AO3 here!
✷✷✷✷✷ Nesta
1.
When Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had planned their girls’ trip, Nesta hadn’t exactly known what to expect. Sure, she’d assumed this sleepy, holiday town would look like something out of a winter wonderland, but as Nesta took in the sights, even a Grinch like her was forced to admit her expectations had been exceeded.
“Oh, wow,” Gwyn breathed as they came around the corner to reveal their Airbnb. It was a gorgeous house, fully decked out for the holidays with twinkling lights and a snowman out front to boot, and even Nesta had to admit it looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. The house was two stories and decked out with Christmas decor, from lights wrapped perfectly around the frame and candles glowing in each window. “It’s even prettier than the photos.”
“You sure know how to pick them,” Emerie agreed from the driver’s seat. She carefully pulled into the driveway before putting the car in park, and the three of them took one last moment to enjoy the warmth before they braved the cold December air. “Okay, let’s make this as painless as possible.”
Gwyn went to unlock the front door while Nesta and Emerie grabbed as many bags as they could carry. Thankfully, they weren’t in the cold long, and the house was just as beautiful on the inside as it was out. There were plenty of comfortable couches, picturesque sitting areas, and most importantly, three beds just as advertised. They’d paid a little more so everyone at least had their own queen-sized bed, and Nesta and Emerie would share a bedroom while Gwyn had the primary suite, given how close it was to her birthday.
“Woah,” Nesta said as she walked inside. The owners clearly hadn’t limiting their decorations to the outdoors; there was a giant, fully decked out Christmas tree in the living room, garland wrapped around the bannister on the stairs leading upstairs, and red and white stockings hanging above the fireplace.
“Woah is right,” Emerie agreed as she followed Nesta inside. “This looks like it should be in a magazine.”
“I know,” Gwyn replied, coming downstairs to help them continue unloading. “I’m a little obsessed with it.”
“Only a little?” Nesta asked, nodding at Gwyn’s ugly Christmas sweater. Today’s option was a navy sweater complete with a pattern of her cat’s face on it, and Gwyn clearly had no shame. 
“I am not ashamed of my love of the holidays,” Gwyn told her primly, “or my cat.”
“Maybe you should be,” Nesta fired back, teasing. 
“Just for that, I’m pulling my birthday card,” Gwyn announced, already turning and retreating back upstairs to her room. “Have fun unloading the rest of the car!”
Nesta met Emerie’s eyes and they shared a fond eye roll. “How much is even left?”
“You could probably do it in one trip,” Emerie answered, already backing away with her own bags in hand. “I’m gonna go… unpack my own bags.”
“So much for sisterhood!” Nesta called after Emerie’s retreating back, earning nothing but a loud laugh in return. 
It won’t even be that bad, Nesta told herself as she made sure her coat was zipped all the way up. I’ll do this in one trip if it kills me.
Nesta braved the winter air once again and made her way back to the rental car, breathing a sigh in relief when she realized she could almost certainly make it back to the house in one trip. It might take a little finagling, but it would certainly be doable. She squared her shoulders and started laying out the remaining bags, and she was about to start loading up when a voice broke her concentration. 
“You need any help with that?”
Nesta turned to see one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen in her life standing on the neighboring house’s porch with a playful look on his face. He was wearing a thick, dark green jacket, black jeans, and heavy winter boots, and she could tell he was built even through the multiple layers of clothes he had on. 
“Do I look like I need help?” she eventually said once she’d managed to find her voice. Despite how hot this guy was, she wasn’t going to fall all over herself for him.
“That sounds like a loaded question,” he said back with a lopsided grin, taking a sip of what looked like either coffee or hot chocolate. His eyes looked incredibly green because of his jacket, and they twinkled with his easy smile. “I’m going to go with no.”
“Then why are you offering?” she asked.
He laughed, and damn if that didn’t make her feel things. “Just because you don’t look like you need help doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
“Even if I needed help, why would I accept it from a stranger?” she fired back.
“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, and then pointed at the house behind him. “My friends and I are staying here for the week. I heard you guys pull up and thought I’d be… neighborly.”
“You wanted to be neighborly, but you’re standing there with your hands full of hot chocolate,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. “Right. Makes perfect sense.”
“Who says I can’t finish my mug and then offer my services?” he retorted, raising said mug in her direction before he took another sip. 
“And what services would those be?” she replied. 
“I’m a physical therapist,” he told her, his grin turning downright sinful. “I’m good with my hands, and you seem pretty… tense.”
Nesta resolutely ignored the way heat was pooling between her thighs at the thought of how good those hands could feel on her. She was Nesta Archeron, Esq. Even if she met someone that managed to hold her interest for longer than a few minutes — without pissing her off, of course — she didn’t have time for relationships, or for flings, or even for removing tension. Her last boyfriend certainly hadn’t been worth the effort she’d put into their relationship, and even if he hadn’t cheated, she still regretted bringing him to one of her firm’s events. He just couldn’t keep up with her; who could?
So Nesta buried her head in her work instead. She still made time for her family and friends, of course — she was on this trip with Gwyn and Emerie, and she’d see Feyre and Elain once she got back — but her degrees weren’t going to up and leave her if they got bored. Her billable hours might not always be exciting, but at least they were consistent. 
“I’m sure you are,” Nesta eventually replied, making sure to keep her voice as bland and disinterested as possible. Judging by the downright gleeful expression on Cassian’s face, she hadn’t exactly been successful, but whatever. It wasn’t like she’d be spending her entire vacation with him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it.”
“Never doubted that you did,” Cassian said. “But I’ll be here all week if you change your mind.”
She rolled her eyes as she began to finally load up on the bags she’d came out here for in the first place. “I won’t.”
“Who was that?” Gwyn asked when Nesta finally returned inside. She must have been watching from one of the large windows overlooking the porch, and Nesta sighed as whatever thoughts she’d had about keeping that interaction to herself went up in smoke. “You were talking to him for a while.”
“Cassian is staying in the house next door with some of his friends,” Nesta answered. “He said he wanted to be… neighborly. Help me with the bags or whatever.”
“Uh huh,” Gwyn replied with a knowing look. “Is that all he offered?”
“He said he’s a PT, and that I looked tense,” Nesta told her with a roll of her eyes. “Like he’s one to judge. He doesn’t even know me.”
“I can feel you grinding your teeth from here,” Gwyn fired back. “Trust me, you don’t need to be an expert to see you need a break.”
“Which is exactly why we’re here, isn’t it?” Nesta retorted without missing a beat. “Besides, I’d much rather relax with my friends than have my time wasted yet again.”
Nesta was thankfully saved by the bell — literally, as someone was ringing the doorbell to their Airbnb. Nesta and Gwyn exchanged glances before silently deciding to see who was at the door, the two of them looking through the frosted glass to see three people waiting for them on the other side. Cassian’s green coat was clearly visible, and the two others with him must have been the friends he’d mentioned during his conversation with Nesta. 
“Nesta, what the fuck,” Gwyn hissed under her breath. She turned to look at Nesta incredulously. “You didn’t tell me his friends were hot.”
“Who has hot friends?” Emerie asked, finally coming back downstairs at the commotion. 
“Nesta talked to one of our neighbors for the week,” Gwyn answered, “and failed to tell me how hot everyone in that house apparently is!”
“Okay, well let’s not be weird,” Emerie replied slowly, clearly still processing what Gwyn had just shared. “Everybody keep their cool, okay?”
“I’m perfectly cool,” Nesta responded with a roll of her eyes. “And for the record, I didn’t say anything because I only saw Cassian.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Gwyn muttered under her breath, pulling a snicker from Emerie and a scowl from Nesta. “Okay, okay, everyone stay calm. I’m gonna open the door now.”
Gwyn opened the door to reveal Cassian and his two friends — one a blonde woman who was around Nesta’s height, and the other a man who looked so similar to Cassian they could’ve been brothers. The blonde woman lit up at the sight of Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta , and even Nesta had to admit she was a little underprepared for how much more gorgeous she was with a smile like that on her face. She looked like something out of a winter magazine with her pristine, all-white skiing outfit that somehow managed to show off her curves despite the thick layers of insulation. “Hi neighbors!”
“Hi,” Gwyn replied, her eyes barely resting on the blonde before she openly started ogling her taller, broodier friend. He was dressed in a black peacoat, jeans so dark they nearly looked black, and similar snowboots to Cassian. “How can we help you?”
“Not to be totally weird,” the woman began, her smile turning a little self-deprecating, “but Cassian said you guys were staying here for the week too?” 
“Yup, Nesta mentioned that,” Emerie answered, completely ignoring the daggers Nesta was shooting at the back of her head. “We’re here until Friday. I’m Emerie, by the way.”
“I’m Mor, and this is Azriel,” Mor replied, jerking her head toward Tall, Dark, and Brooding. “Sounds like you already met Cassian.”
“Unfortunately,” Nesta grumbled, extremely unamused when Cassian just grinned like a maniac. What was wrong with him? Most men ran for the hills when she showed them this level of disinterest, but it seemed like that only got him going even more. “You’re very… forward.”
“That’s what they say about me,” Cassian said. “Very forward, and very down to take you to dinner later.”
“Jesus Christ, keep it in your pants,” Mor interjected with a roll of her eyes. Nesta was torn between thanking Mor and wishing she’d given Nesta the chance to verbally eviscerate Cassian, but Nesta got the sense he’d enjoy that, too, so maybe it was for the best that Mor had intervened. “You goddamn frat bro. I’m not trying to scare them off.”
“We are both bisexual, Morrigan,” Cassian quipped back without missing a beat. “I can’t be a frat bro, it violates the rules of nature.”
“Since we’re sharing, I’m straight, Nesta’s bisexual, and Emerie’s lesbian,” Gwyn chimed in with a knowing little smirk. “In case it’s… mhmm, relevant or anything.”
“Very relevant,” Mor said, suddenly looking very much like she wanted to eat Emerie alive. She started playing with the zipper on her jacket just enough to be enticing, and even Nesta had to look away before she got sucked in. “What would you say to coming over for dinner tomorrow? We’d love to have you over once you’re settled in.”
“I’m a great chef,” Cassian added, winking at Nesta. “Azriel isn’t a half bad bartender, either.”
“I do love cocktails,” Gwyn mused. 
“I could whip up a few things,” Azriel replied, his voice low and deep. “Hope you don’t mind being my taste tester.”
Nesta could feel the moment Gwyn fell — hook, line, and sinker — and had to refrain from releasing a heavy sigh. So much for a girls trip. “That definitely won’t be a problem.”
“So it’s a date, then?” Mor prompted, her eyes lingering on Emerie for a few moments before she turned to look at Nesta expectantly. “Assuming we haven’t already scared you off.”
It felt like everyone was looking at Nesta, as though they’d all mutually decided she was the holdout, and the worst part was they weren’t even wrong. Mor clearly had eyes for Emerie — eyes that were certainly being returned, given how much lower Mor’s zipper had fallen in the last minute or so — and Azriel and Gwyn were locked in some kind of flirtatious staring contest so intense Nesta didn’t even want to look at them. All that left was Cassian eyeing Nesta up like she was a particularly difficult challenge, and the only reason she didn’t visibly bristle was the fact that she could just tell how much he’d enjoy it. 
“Well?” Gwyn said. When Nesta didn’t say anything, she whirled around to look at Nesta with murder in her teal eyes. “What do you say, ladies?”
“I guess we have dinner plans tomorrow,” Nesta said back, somehow managing not to sound too put out about it. 
“Great!” Mor chirped. She reached into her pocket and somehow managed to extricate her phone, unlocking it with a flourish before passing it over to Emerie. “Can I have your number? So we can sort out all the details?”
“Of course,” Emerie replied. She blushed as Mor passed her the phone, and Nesta had to work to suppress her groan as she realized this trip would be anything but relaxing. “Can’t wait.”
“Me either,” Mor told her with a wink. Emerie’s cheeks went pinker the longer Mor stared at her, a fact that clearly delighted her, but Nesta not-so-subtly coughed and forced the conversation to get back on track. “Okay, we’re gonna stop letting all your hot air out. See you ladies tomorrow!”
“Okay, Gwyn was right,” Emerie said the second the door was closed. “Nesta, you could’ve warned us.”
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust
80 notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago
Note
Honestly, I'm thinking about what if sukuna's s/o(in his og era and when he's still human) died and they vowed that they meet again in another life and they will love him again
MANY many many many years later, itadori become sukuna's vessel and sukuna met his dead s/o who's reincarnated. They have exact voice, face, attitude and everything. The only thing that changed is their last name and THEY HAVE WEDDING RING AND THEY'RE MARRED TO SATORU
And worst of all, sukuna is still inlove with his s/o and LIVID
Jsdijscusncjsnfjdnfieixjeifndfjjeks😭😭😭😭
When I tell you I had to run home and write this IMMEDIATELY I mean it. What a absolutely amazing idea for a fic, there you go! Please let me know what you think<3
PS: I changed it up just the tiniest bit because it fitted better in the story I had in mind, hope you still like it though
Promises you can't keep
Tumblr media
Pairing: former!reader x Sukuna; reader x husband!Gojo Word Count: 2,5k Synopsis: When Sukuna realizes that you did not only break your oath to wait until he returns back to you but married Gojo Satoru after 1000 years of him waiting for you, he goes insane. Warnings: pretty rough language, heavy hurt on Sukuna's side
„Ryomen“, you breathe out, whole body shivering in nothing but grief.
A thick veil of rain and teardrops pours down on the lifeless body of your lover without any mercy. How did this happen? Who on earth would be able to defeat the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of all times?  You always thought that this would last forever, that nobody is able to take this blessing away from you. But there he lays, covered entirely in his own blood while you clearly feel that his strength is leaving him with every passing second.
“You need to look at me, (y/n).”
He had so many enemies, countless people who wanted to defeat him. But no one could ever hold a candle to him – no one until now.
“(y/n). Look at me”, he gasps again urgently.
His hand gently caresses your cheek, a grin plastered on his face. You want to bury yourself against his body, close your eyes and pretend that none of this is actually happening, that your lover isn’t dying in front of you. But you know that look on his face all too well – the stare of death. After all, you took enough lives with your own hands to know how this feels.
“You have to promise me something.”
“I’ll promise you everything”, you cry out, holding onto his hand for dear life while the pounding rain seems to soak through your bones.
This is all too much to bear. You want nothing more than stabbing yourself and lie beside him, waiting for death to finally wash over you. But you know he wouldn’t allow that, that he has other plans.
“I taught you how to use cursed technique, use it. And when you do, we’ll meet again, you hear? No matter in which live, I will find you. Promise me that you’ll wait for me.”
“Of course I will. O-of curse I will wait for you”, you mutter.
“This isn’t enough. I need more assurance. Show me that you mean it”, he demands.
Without thinking twice, you use your powers to cut a gaping wound into your very own forearm, running blood mixing with the rain in an instant.
“I swear I will find you in another life and that I’ll love you until that! I insist by my blood, by a blood oath!”
He smiles while you can sense that life slowly begins to leave his weak frame.
“That’s what I wanted to hear…Don’t break your promise, (y/n)”, he mutters, lids so heavy that he’s barely able to keep his eyes open.
“I would never do that”, you reply, determination filling you gaze.
You will do what he told you. You’ll turn yourself into a cursed spirit and live on until you finally meet again.
Until you are finally able to hold Ryomen Sukuna in your arms again.
“Fuck”, you mumble to yourself, scratching your head while you desperately fight against the pictures of Sukuna that occupy your mind.
Even after more than 1000 years, it seems like this man put a spell on you, haunting you even in your dreams. Well, given the fact that your husband just found out one of Sukuna’s fingers disappeared, the wave of your past seems to catch up with you faster than you thought.
Your phone buzzes violently on your nightstand, making you sign in frustration. Who the hell is this? What could be important enough to contact you when you definitely have more urgent problems at the moment?
“I’m busy sleeping”, you mumble into your phone.
“Gojo-san, you need to come here immediately…I found the cursed object”, Megumi’s unusual bothered voice explains briefly.
“Where’s Satoru? I thought he’s around that area too”, you mutter.
“He’s buying sweets at the moment. Can you please just come here? I wouldn’t call you if it’s not urgent.”
You know that Megumi’s right, that he’d never call you if not necessary. But why on earth is your husband out there buying sweets when this is actually his mission?
“Sure. Give me 5 minutes.”
To be honest, it doesn’t really sit right with you to get in contact with Sukuna again, even if it’s only one of his fingers. But he has to be naïve if he thinks you waited for him, right? After all, he was gone for more than 1000 years, swallowed by earth without any sign. When Satoru Gojo came into your world a few years ago, he showed you what life really is about and even accepted the fact that you are half curse half human, protecting you from the elders with every beat of his heart. Yes, you love this man with all your heart. So much that you gave up the idea of getting back together with Sukuna and started a new life with your now husband.
None of this matters, though. Sukuna is sealed, forever trapped in 20 of his fingers. Even if he’s not over you, he won’t have a chance to confront you anyway.
With a swift motion, you get into your car and drive to the location Megumi has sent you earlier. Everything will work out just fine, like always
______________________________________________________________
“Sorry for keeping you waiting Megumi-chan, got stuck in traffic. Oh, who’s your friend?”, you question while eyeing the pink-haired boy in front of you up and down.
“And why on earth is he half naked?”
Meanwhile, Sukuna laughs to himself inside Yuji hysterically. Finally. Finally he found another vessel. Finally he’s able to search for you again. Oh, how much he missed to hold you in his arms, to hear your sweet voice. How have you been? Did you wait for him like you promised? Of course you did. After all, you told him over and over how much you lo-
“Something really bad happened, Gojo-san”, the black-haired boy that caught Sukuna’s attention earlier speaks out while scratching his head.
Sukuna needs to take a closer look. Who is this woman? She surely is attractive, looking almost like…
“Come on Megumi-chan, stop being so shy and call me (y/n) already.”
You. His heart drops, gaze hungrily soaking up your striking sight. Oh, you didn’t change at all, looking exactly like he remembers you with your wry grin and delicious curves. He waited for this exact moment more than a thousand years.
Finally.
Finally he’ll be able to hold you in his arms again, to rule the world with you by his side like the both of you always imagined. Can this day get any better?
“I prefer Gojo-san, though. After all you’re married to Gojo-sensei.”
What was that? Married? And that name…He heard it before. It belongs to the current strongest jujutsu sorcerer.
His stomach turns. This can’t be true, it has to be a misunderstanding. Back then, you made it very clear that you’ll wait for him no matter what happens, he showed you how to reincarnate yourself, he is the one responsible for you still walking on this earth.
You…You wouldn’t betray him like that, right?
“Anyway. What is so bad that you had to call me? And where’s the cursed object?”
“I ate it”, Yuji explains briefly.
Time stands still as you can only stare in disbelief at the boy in front of you, too stunned to speak. Fuck, this is bad. This is very very bad. Not only because that poor teen will probably die, but because it means that he’s reincarnated. Sukuna is back walking on this earth, free to do whatever he pleases. And you know well enough that this could be the end of everything.
“He ate it?”, you repeat with low voice.
Your heart seems to stop beating, your usual so confident smile fades away in the wind.
“Yup”, both boys confirm your worst nightmares.
You need to take a step back, to get a hold on yourself while your finger plays with your wedding ring. This is bad, this means trouble, this is the worst thing that could have possibly happen.
“Gojo-san, are you okay?”, Megumi asks, voice filled with concern.
It’s like you’ve forgot how to breathe, your lungs refusing their service. The eyes of that boy, that orbs that are filled with nothing but innocence and kindness. If you look close enough, you can tell that he’s inside him.
“Get that moron here right now”, you hiss, turning around to face Megumi so fast that your head begins to spins.
Fuck, what are you supposed to do? There are exactly two options:
1. Ryomen forgot about you anyway and will continue his cruel plans
2. He does in fact remember your promise very well and still has feelings for you.
While option one is pretty bad already, you are almost certain that option two is equal to the end of the world. Ryomen is fucking cold-hearted, sadistic and selfish. The only time he ever opened up in his entire life was for you. Oh, you just knew how to make him soft, how to make a thoughtful lover out of a man that wanted to burn the entire world down.
“Long time no see, (y/n).”
You feel like fainting, mouth dry like the desert. It’s his voice. And god, it sounds as horrible and unpromising as 1000 years ago.
“You look younger than I expected”, you comment dryly while turning around.
The worst thing you could do right now is showing him your weakness. You know this man all too well to be aware of the fact that he’ll use everything against you he can grasp.
“And you look like a cheating whore.”
His voice makes the blood freeze in your veins in an instant. He isn’t just mad. No, he’s absolutely furious.
“Ouch, that are some rough words to say.”
Before you have time to even comprehend what’s happening, he grabs your wrists and forces you to look at him, tight grip making your skin burst.
When you look into his eyes, you can see nothing but hatred and disgust in them – a mixture that makes your guts turn.
“Is this a wedding ring on your finger, (y/n)?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“You were gone for over 1000 years. How long did you expect me to wait for you?”
Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, completely swallowed by the threatening way he stands in front of you.
“You swore. You fucking swore.”
“I moved on. I found a man who truly loves me and I love him with all my heart, without any fear or pursuit of power. He accepts me the way I am, he fights for me-“
“And I didn’t do that?”, he yells so hostile that you flinch.
“He showed me that I don’t have to subjugate people. The jujutsu sorcerers at Jujutsu High accept me the way I am, I would even say they like me. And admiration is so much better than submission. I changed my view of the world and this view doesn’t match your fucked up one at all.”
Sukuna can’t believe it. All these fucking years, he waited for you patiently. You were the only thing that occupied his mind, the empire you could have built together. Are you really giving that up because of a random man that put a ring on your finger? Are you giving this life of luxury and nonchalance up for some brats? This doesn’t sound like you at all.
“The (y/n) I knew gave nothing about all of these things”, he spits atyou.
“The (y/n) you knew died a long time ago”, you reply.
He hates the way his heart burns in agony because of your words and how he feels like falling apart. He is the king of curses, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of all times. You should be happy that he chose you to stay by his side, to support him while he reaches his goals. Why on earth do you choose a miserable life like this over him?
It doesn’t matter.
“Then you are my enemy and I’ll kill you.”
“Here I am everybody! Look what I’ve bought!”
There has probably never been a moment in your life when you were so happy to hear the voice of your husband.
“That boy eat the finger, Satoru”, you explain briefly without breaking eye contact with your former lover.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So you’re Sukuna, huh?”, Gojo mutters besides you.
Something inside Sukuna snaps. Instinctively, he lunges himself at Gojo, over and over trying to punch into his pretty face. Is this really the man you chose over him, the man you decided to marry despite the promise you’ve made?
“You have something that belongs me”, Sukuna states, pure hatred dripping from his voice.
“I know you want my woman back because she had a thing with you a thousand years ago. But I need to disappoint you: she’s mine now”, Gojo replies with a cheeky grin.
All the countless nights you spent together, the humans you killed on each other’s side, the empire the two of you built back then in your era. And this is your replacement? He can’t help but feel…
Grief. Fuck, even if he’d never admit it out loudly, you were the only thing besides his powers that Sukuna really valued, maybe even loved. He shouldn’t care about things like this, about your new lover. But he’s absolutely livid, the thought of this man touching the body that belongs to him making him see nothing but red.
Over and over, he tries to beat Gojo Satoru, to show him that he is not to be trifled with. But even though that annoying brat acts as his vessel now, there are still 19 parts of him missing. To beat this man, he’ll definitely need more than one part of his soul.
“C’mon, get back on track boy, don’t let this old fart take over your body”, Satoru speaks to Yuji.
Slowly but surely, Sukuna feels the control slipping through his fingers. No, he isn’t done yet, he has to kill the man that proclaimed you, he has to force you to stay with him at any cost. He waited to damn long for this moment, he can’t lose control now-
“Man, that is really annoying”, Yuji speaks out with his usual voice.
You can tell immediately that he’s gone, almost falling backwards in relief. That was a damn close call. If Satoru wouldn’t have made it one time, who knows what would have happened.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Satoru asks softly, hand placed on your back in order to support your trembling body.
“Yeah. Just a little surprised to see my ex after 1000 years I guess”, you breathe out.
All Sukuna is able to do is sit down and watch as this fucker wraps his arms around you and places a small kiss on your forehead, asking you over and over if you’re okay and what happened.
This is unacceptable. You are his and his alone. He will not allow another man to touch you, let alone marry you.
He leans back in his chair and lets himself close his eyes for a brief moment. No, Sukuna won’t allow you to be happy. Even if it’s the last thing he’ll do, he’ll kill Satoru Gojo as soon as an opportunity presents itself.
“I’m coming for you, (y/n).”
713 notes · View notes
creamflix · 2 months ago
Text
nanami kento x reader; dark content. no reader gender implied. parasocial relationship. unhealthy obsession. comp sci! major kento. slightly inspired by my psychological horror choso fanfiction, but takes place in the same time as my perv! suguru fic and perv! satoru fic. i can't see this man doing anything outright perverted, sorry. — masterlist here ☆
Tumblr media
nanami kento had always been a man of discipline, rising quietly to the top of his field.
when he graduated, he left university with the prestigious “golden compiler” award, a testament to his brilliance in coding. classmates admired him, professors hailed him as a prodigy, and everyone seemed to want a piece of his attention.
everyone except you.
you, the one person who hadn’t been captivated by his accolades.
you, who didn’t know him as the revered coding genius.
you weren’t even a comp sci major — your world and his couldn’t have been more different. he still remembered your clueless but endearing question the first time he’d met you: “so… you’re, like, a math tutor or something?” you’d looked up at him with an innocent curiosity that sent him reeling. he hadn’t known what to say, hadn’t known how to approach you at all.
so he kept his interest hidden behind his calm, stoic exterior, locking away every fleeting moment you shared.
and then he graduated, diploma in hand, awards stacking up behind him, and his career in game development waiting on the other side.
but he didn’t have you.
not a confession, not even a final conversation.
he was left with only memories, seared into his mind, of the way you’d looked at him that day, like he was just another stranger.
the emptiness gnawed at him.
so he buried himself in his work, crafting a career that would soon make him a legend.
but even as he rose to prominence in the industry, his memories of you remained vivid, unchanging, as if frozen in time. no matter how many years passed, he couldn’t shake the image of you, every detail so clear it hurt.
it started innocently enough.
the first time he modeled a character after you, it was just an otome game. your likeness became the sweet, cheerful npc, with wide, curious eyes that echoed your own. he even pulled phrases he remembered you using, weaving them into dialogue, until he could almost believe he was talking to you.
but that simple otome character wasn’t enough. the feeling of you — the memory of you — haunted him, driving him to re-create you again and again. his projects became shrines, monuments to a version of you that he preserved so obsessively in his mind. he put you into a fantasy RPG as a fierce warrior with steel in your gaze, strong and fearless. he lingered over every detail, crafting your voice, your mannerisms, your expressions, until he could practically hear your voice in his headphones.
“perfect,” he’d murmur to himself, his gaze fixed on the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “don’t change. stay like this.”
it was as close as he could get to having you. every new game was another world he’d build around you, another excuse to lose himself in the memory of you, pixel by pixel, line by line.
outside of work, he tried searching for people who could fill the void, partners who looked or acted like you. he’d sit through dates, waiting for that flicker of your smile, the same tilt of the head, a laugh that even remotely sounded like yours. but every time, he left disappointed, feeling the hollow ache grow deeper.
they weren’t you. none of them ever could be.
so he dove deeper into his work, pushing the boundaries of what he could do.
eventually, he was given the chance to develop a virtual reality role-playing game. this was his opportunity, his magnum opus. in it, he recreated you in every possible way — the exact shade of your eyes, the smallest quirk of your smile. the game’s interface allowed him to craft custom responses, and he wrote your lines himself, based on every memory he’d held onto so fiercely. when he slipped the headset on, it was like you were really there, like you were speaking directly to him.
“you’re perfect,” he whispered to the screen one night, fingertips tracing your face on the display, entranced by the illusion he’d created. “you haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
he kept tweaking the game, pushing the realism, adding tiny details that only he would know. the memory of you was a drug, a compulsion he couldn’t stop feeding.
and yet, despite his creations, he found himself haunted.
you’d gone on to live your life, and he had no idea what you were doing, who you were with, what you’d become. you were out there, living a life he wasn’t a part of.
but then, every now and then, he’d catch a glimpse of you in the city. you looked different now — older, maybe a little more serious. you wore new clothes, your hair styled in a way that didn’t match his memory of you. each time he saw you, it sent his mind into a frenzy, but he’d convince himself these were just surface changes. he didn’t want to believe that anything about you could truly change.
because in his games, you were forever the same, perfect and unchanging, untouched by time.
on those nights after he saw you, he’d dive back into his code, adjusting little details, building yet another character with your likeness. he was trapped, bound to the memories of you that he’d preserved for himself, his own twisted devotion spiraling deeper.
“just stay with me,” he’d murmur to the screen, his voice barely above a whisper. “stay like this. don’t change.”
and in his virtual worlds, you never did.
Tumblr media
produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune
93 notes · View notes
eternal-evergreens · 4 months ago
Note
hello! i saw the request open so i would like to request yandere azul from twst having a relationship with his darling (fem reader) but deep down his darling started to get tired of the relationship because y'know, his yandere tendencies. especially he's super clingy to her it makes her suffocated around him.
thank you,
Tumblr media Tumblr media
。⁠*゚⁠+*⁠.⁠✧ "Error 30004" 。⁠*゚⁠+*⁠.⁠✧
Post type: drabble
Pairing: Yandere!Azul Ashengrotto x Fem!Reader
Word count: 744
Warnings: Angst, pretty tame for a yandere fic actually
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Being Azul's girlfriend wasn't...without benefits, but the cons are slowly, steadily starting to outweigh the pros. He is far, far too dependant on you. And aside from the mental exhaustion his clinginess causes you, you're sure it can't be healthy for him, either.
Truthfully, you should have broken up with him a long, long time ago.
To be fair, you have tried. It's just...whenever you start to steer the conversation to something more somber, it's as if you can hear his heart breaking into little pieces.
The image of his face, tear-stricken and blindsided, keeps you up at night.
But enough is enough. This is the sixth time he's tried to delay your departure just tonight. It was well past midnight, and you were supposed to have been gone by five.
"Oh dear, would you look at the time? I'm afraid I simply cannot allow you to walk home at this hour. Why don't you stay the night? I've already made the preparations, just in case." Of course he has.
You take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and look him in the eyes. "Azul," you say. "This would be the eighth night in a row that you've asked me to stay over. I already told you that Grim is waiting for me back at Ramshackle. I promised him I'd come home tonight. I told you that I'd go home tonight."
"But I couldn't possibly let you walk home in the dark, even with me to walk you back it'd still be—"
"—'Improper'. I know, Azul. You've given me this spiel a hundred times before. At this point I spend more time in Octavinelle than I do in my own dorm!"
"Is that such a bad thing?" He asks. His composure is wavering. An ordinary person wouldn't be able to tell, but you know him well enough to know the difference. He shakily reaches for you hand, but you bat it away. You sigh heavily, closing your eyes and putting your hand up to your temple.
"Azul, I can't do this anymore. I need space. You aren't even giving me room to breathe."
"...You're...breaking up with me...?" His voice is cracked, and you can hear him holding back a sob. Against your better judgement, you crack an eye open. Clear grey eyes welling with tears, a wobbly lip, pinched eyebrows. It's the very same face that you'd been fearing all this time.
Your resolve cracks.
"I just—I just need a break. We don't have to break up, just—just show me that we can live without each other, okay? It's not healthy. We're not healthy."
"...o...ut...?" Azul mumbles something, but you can't make it out over his cries.
"What was that?" You ask, trying to sound as gentle as possible.
"So what?!" He says, nearly yelling. "So what if it's not healthy?! We love each other, don't we?!"
"Azul..." He begins to break down in your arms. You hesitantly hold him as he cries, rubbing soft circles into his back. After what feels like an eternity wrapped up in an hour, Azul's sobs finally calm down enough for him to speak.
"We love each other..." He says, nearly murmuring. "Isn't that enough...?" Neither of you say anything more, and eventually, his breathing evens out, indicating he's finally asleep.
Your sleeves are wet. It's been a long night
Gently laying Azul onto his pillow, you check the bedside clock. It's one in the morning. Grim is going to give you an earful...assuming he's awake enough to care, that is.
In the bathroom, a spare toothbrush, shampoo, conditioner, hair ties, face wash, makeup.
In the bedroom, an extra pillow, spare clothes, an overnight bag, a sleep mask, a weighted blanket.
In your bag, school supplies, snacks, a water bottle, a friendship bracelet with a paw charm. Your resolve strengthens.
You pack up your things, all of them, and leave. When you get back to Ramshackle, you send a quick text, and then promptly shut off your phone.
1:06AM
I went back to Ramshackle. I took all my overnight stuff with me, too. Won't be needing it anymore. Sorry, Azul, but I lied. This is the end.
Delivered.
7:46AM
You have -78- missed calls.
You have 62 new voicemails.
You sigh, quickly hitting something on your phone before shutting it off again. You knew you shouldn't have looked.
From across the campus, Azul stares at his screen.
Message failed to deliver.
136 notes · View notes
otomiyaa · 10 months ago
Text
Sharing is Caring
Caelus x Dan Heng
Tumblr media
A/N: The second 2-part fic thanks to @lovelynim, who helped me with the idea. The lil edit of them in Dan Heng's bedroom was also made by me ✌️ The Obey Me fic will receive its sequel soon!
Summary: Dan Heng is sharing his room and belongings with Caelus, so Caelus doesn't see why he can't borrow his coat either? Dan Heng doesn't agree!
Tumblr media
He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked a little irritated, and Caelus couldn't help but feel a little funny because of it.
"What?" he asked. He was relaxing on Dan Heng's bed, trying another of Dan Heng's books since his previous 4 attempted ones were quite boring. Well, he had to do something while the Astral Express was continuously on its way, right?
"You know what," Dan Heng said. Caelus shrugged. Of course he knew, but he shook his head. Dan Heng sighed and pointed at the coat Caelus was wearing.
"That is mine," he said. Caelus nodded.
"It is. I'm borrowing it." Like he was borrowing Dan Heng's book, and his bed, and pretty much everything so what was the deal now?
It was a decision made quite early on, with no room for him to stay in, he was to crash temporarily in Dan Heng's room, but they and everyone else had grown so accustomed to their roommate situation that it pretty much stayed this way even now.
"Give it back," Dan Heng said. He was merely wearing a T-shirt now, and Caelus couldn't help but think he looked cute right now.
"I will give it back later. My coat is getting washed," Caelus said.
Dan Heng stood by his side, and Caelus glanced up at him. "You are literally doing nothing, on my bed, with my coat. At least give the coat back, you don't need it," Dan Heng tried again.
"I'm reading," Caelus said in an offended tone to the doing nothing accusation. "And it's cold here," he added. Hence the coat!
Except that it wasn't that cold. There was actually not really a good reason to keep on irritating Dan Heng now, but there surely were some bad reasons:
Caelus was bored, Dan Heng's coat was fancy and comfy, Caelus was bored, Dan Heng was usually boring and - well yes, Caelus was very bored, wasn't that just the best excuse to mess with his roomie a little? So what was Dan Heng going to do about it?
He was curious and wasn't going to give up now that he finally found a way to get on Dan Heng's nerves. It was always Caelus asking if he could borrow a book, if Dan Heng didn't mind sharing a bed, which wasn't the most comfortable bed, if he could borrow a shirt, blah blah blah, and Dan Heng was fine with everything.
Not the favorite coat, it seemed. Caelus couldn't help but smirk so he quickly put the book in front of his mouth to cover it up and look innocent.
"I ask you once more to give it back to me. I'm heading out," Dan Heng said. Caelus raised his eyebrows. Surely Dan Heng could roam around the Astral Express without his precious coat.
"And what if I don't want to?" Caelus asked. Dan Heng kneeled down by his side.
"Are you sure you're going to be like this?" he asked. Caelus was given many chances, and he wondered if Dan Heng would really give up now, so he nodded.
"I'm going to be like this," he confirmed. Dan Heng sighed and all of a sudden in a flash, Caelus found himself on his stomach with Dan Heng pinning him down on the mattress, his hands tugging at the coat. He wasn't giving up - he was going to take his coat back by force! Now that was something!
"Dan Heng - wah! Why would you- gahh come on! Why can I borrow anything but this? Sharing is caring, you told me yourself! Wah!" Caelus huffed when Dan Heng tried to strip him, but he definitely wasn't cooperating.
"O-oof! Get off me!" He tried to get up but was pinned down again, his head landing right next to the book he was reading just now. He could sniff the pleasant scent of the book pages as he breathed in and out, his arms still wrapped around his own torso to keep Dan Heng from taking the coat off.
"Stop that - so childish!" Caelus whined, fighting against Dan Heng's prying hands. They were both being childish. Dan Heng tried, Caelus resisted, and this continued until all of a sudden, it stopped.
"Heh- giving up already?" Caelus asked, turning his head to look up at him, but all of a sudden instead of trying to take his coat off...
"Uwahaha?!" Caelus barked when Dan Heng clawed at his lower sides, and he spasmed at the sudden sensation.
"Whahahat- are you! Ahahah hehehey thahahat's cheheheating!" he cackled. Dan Heng was tickling him?! Now that was surprising.
"I don't think I'm cheating, I've given you plenty of chances to listen. So.. Are you going to give it back now?" Dan Heng asked. He sounded like such a teacher! Caelus shook his head.
"Nohoho!" Dan Heng's hands climbed up, clawing at his ribs despite Caelus' attempts at covering them with his arms. He squirmed and giggled hysterically, kicking his feet as Dan Heng continued to tickle.
His fingers continued to move up further, and Caelus kind of freaked out in the most ticklish and hysterical way when those sneaky little digits reached his armpits. It woke up a certain strength in him that gave him the opportunity to kick Dan Heng right off him.
"Urgh!" Dan Heng groaned, and Caelus gasped.
"AHh- no way, I'm sorry!" he yelped, still breathless and pitchy, and he stood on shaking legs and moved towards Dan Heng who had fallen on his side.
"You shouldn't tickle a ticklish person you know, it can result in something like thi-this, eh..." Caelus backed away cautiously when Dan Heng got back on his feet as well. He was breathing heavily and looked quite... uh. Was attractive the fitting word? Caelus swallowed nervously.
"I'm fine," Dan Heng reassured. "But you won't be if you don't give back the coat right now."
Wow! Talk about vengeful!
160 notes · View notes
Text
Inappropriate Workplace Behaviour
Pairing: Lord Death x Younger! Secretary! Fem! Reader.
Summary: Lord Death can't stop jacking off to his decades younger secretary.
Warnings: Smut, Masterbation, Mutual Masterbation, Fingering, Age Gap relationship (all parties are 18+), Boss x Employee, Vouyerism, Lord Death is a perv in this.
Writing Time: 1 hour.
Word Counter: 1231.
Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 8.
A/N:
Bro this was supposed to be headcannons how did it become a fic??? I should be on Day 9 now. Why do I always do this to myself I hope you enjoyed my first Lord Death fic. I said he's a perv so he's a perv.
Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.
Tumblr media
---///---
Lord Death was shocked to say the least, when he first realized he had a strong attraction you. An attraction he didn't think any man should have for anyone so close to his son's age.
Or for his own secretary.
He would lie awake at night, fistful of his own dick, thinking about you. How you dressed that day. Simple black suit with heels that you didn't think was that eye catching at all.
But it certainly got your boss's attention, with the way it hugged your figure and emphasized your breasts and ass.
Poor Death would have to cover his own mouth from his loud moans from his own touching. He definitely wished it was your hand though over his mouth.
Could you blame him though? It was a nightmare hiding his boner all day, he had to stay put tucked into his desk.
He would imagine leading you from your desk outside his office into his office and just having his way with you on his desk. He would imagine what your moans and cries would sound like, he imagined them to be sweet and beautiful.
Just like you.
His small obsession would grow into somewhat of an addiction. You started noticing Lord Death's change around you when he started complimenting your outfits more.
I mean, he always did give you a small compliment everyday which could be about anything.
"Lovely to see your adorable smile this morning!"
"Nice shoes, dear. Are they new?"
"I like your hair today. The new look really suits you!"
But they had always been small things in passing that you noticed Death did for everyone in the office. It was like his mission to give everyone one compliment everyday.
But it changed when they became more about your clothes and your curves and happened up to four or five times a day.
"Lovely skirt dear...looks so good on you."
"Careful with that fit love, it will have to boys your age all over you."
"My my my, have a date tonight do we?"
That and the small touches he'd add here and there. A hand on your back whilst he spoke to you, a hand on your chin when admiring your outfit... you could go on.
You knew the Lord Death had a little crush on you. At this point it was so obvious. And being the mischievous little shit you are, you decided you'd tease him a little bit.
With just little things. Small touches, figuring out which kind of outfits he liked best and almost exclusively wearing them, slightly bending over when he was near to pick something up or see something better just to give him a nice view... and so on.
Lord Death wasn't a fast as you. He didn't realise you was now doing it on purpose.
One day after a lot of your teasing, he excused himself to his office and shut the door. Something he rarely ever did. So you went over to the door and peeked through the key hole. What you saw you found shocking.
Lord Death had finally given to one of his urges and ripped off all his clothes and started mastbasting in his desk chair.
He stared nervously at the door as he jerked himself off and moaned your name, worried someone would walk in even though he had locked the door.
You suddenly felt tight and empty.
You looked around, looking for anyone nearby. After evaluating the area and deeming it safe, you decided to take a possible career ending risk just like your boss.
You pulled down you tights and panties down to your knees and hiked up your skirt a little, before slowly rubbing two fingers over your clit.
When you looked down into your panties you could see how wet they had become from the spending the day with Death and now when you caught him touching himself in his office.
You looked back up in the key hole when you heard him cry. His knees slowly raises a little then his heels digged into the floor as he got lost in his fantasy. You bit your lips and moved to fingering yourself with the same two fingers that were just on your clit, as you watched your boss get himself off.
Clearly, he was having just as much fun as you was. His head fell back against his chair and closed his eyes when he felt himself come closer and closer to his edge. You knew he was close which made you sink to your knees and bit your free hand, forcing yourself to edge yourself.
You didn't want to orgasm just yet, but Lord Death was close and you was expecting him to get up and open the door when he was done. So might as well finish with him.
You watched your boss cum into his hand with a loud moan. He panted and fell limp against his chair as he calmed down from his high. You added another finger inside yourself, hoping you'd cum faster. But sadly, you just wasn't quite there yet.
And so as Lord Death slowly got up, cleaned up and dressed himself again you scrambled to find your orgasm. He seemed to be taking forever and still nobody was coming so you closed your eyes and kept fingering yourself.
You finally felt yourself close to edge and moaned in glee.
Until you suddenly fell forward onto someone's legs. You froze in humiliation and fear and couldn't bare to look up at your boss in such a position. Lord Death looked down at you, feeling only shock and suddenly more arousal.
"Ah pretty girl, what are you doing?" Lord Death asked with a worried look as he helped you off your face and sit up straight.
You still had your fingers inside of yourself, which there was no way Death hadn't noticed.
"Um... You was doing it too!" You stuttered nervously.
You sat on the ground and spread your legs slightly to remove your fingers from yourself and pull up your tights and panties before immediately slamming them shut again. But Death had already got a sneak peak of the very thing he was just imagining.
He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up, "If you want, we can act like this never happened?"
Lord Death still didn't quiet get you was into him. He didn't understand why you were fingering yourself outside his door but assumed it was either a complete misunderstanding and not what it looked like OR you was just a perv.
You looked at him sadly and huffed, "No! Um er, it's not fair you got to cum and I didn't. So I have to cum now."
Your confidence from your teasing persona came back and you quickly pushed Death back into his office and closed and locked the door.
Considering you had given Death so many orgasms since you started working there with your body and clothes, the least he could do is give you one back.
313 notes · View notes
zoguy1 · 5 months ago
Text
Gift Exchange for @starfyhero2
Suprise! I'm your Trolls Summer Gift Exchanger!!
@trollssummerexchange
This is my first time participating in one of these events. And I'm so glad you were my giftee this time around.
Tumblr media
First present is sticker designs for your Rocking Harmony story. Trolls Rocking Harmony - starfyhero - Trolls (DreamWorks Movies) [Archive of Our Own]
After reading the whole thing. I have to say, I absolutely love it! You did an amazing job merging World Tour and Band Together in a believable way and the story was really engaging. I especially loved the way you wrote Floyd. That was fun.
I really liked the concept of each of the brothers being connected to each of the other music genres and I just adore their designs.
Tumblr media
Next up, Aroace!John Dory! Every year throught June, I make little designs of all my pride headcannons and ships. Since you asked for and Aroace king, I gave you an aroace king!
Tumblr media
Speaking of JD, here's your Johnny and Delta duo.
A pair that I haven't really thought about before. But I really like the way you write the two of them, and how listening to Delta singing was JD's country awakening.
Tumblr media
Next is your Music Whisperer story. The Music Whisperer - Chapter 2 - starfyhero - Trolls (DreamWorks Movies) [Archive of Our Own]
I drew this before the fic came out. I absolutely loved Floyd's feral design. It reminded me of a cat, and given that he was Branch's protector, I wanted to see him protecc Branch.
I can't wait to read more of Music Whisperer. You're a good writer and your stories are fun and entertaining.
Tumblr media
Next is the Youngest Runaways AU.
I love the angst you have going on with these two and I genuinely can't wait for the fic!
And finally, my favorite scene from the Rocking Harmony story.
I loved the way you wrote Floyd absolutely laying into his brothers. Such a satisfying moment. I put your fic on text to speech and was listening to it as I was laying in bed, but this part had me get up from where I was laying it was so good. 1000/10!
88 notes · View notes
rosesradio · 5 months ago
Note
Hello! I saw that you were taking requests. Would you mind writing a Peter Parker x Reader fic where he is just absolutely head over heels and the reader just doesn't know. The two are good friends so when the reader needs a date for a destination wedding she asks Peter. Cue the classic tropes. ✨💕
hii, here you go !! 🫶 i put in all the best tropes, including friends to lovers, fake dating, only one bed, he fell first she fell harder…it’s a lot, and it was so fun to write. thanks for the request & reblogs are appreciated <3
my inbox is open, please read my pinned!
word count: 4,105
warnings: light swearing, some sexually suggestive jokes
The Wedding Date
Tumblr media
"Hm," you hummed, pacing from one side of your living room to the other. In balancing out your racing train of thought, you had picked up the giant stuffed teddy bear that rested on your couch. "Hm, hm, hm..."
"Hm," Peter echoed, narrowing his eyes as he watched you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Can I ask what's bothering you, or am I gonna be left in the dark while you keep humming for another five minutes?"
"Ugh, I'm sorry," you sighed, forcing yourself to stand still and hug the giant bear to your chest. It was then that you remembered how you got this bear, Teddy, in the first place: Peter won it for you at a carnival. He must have played the stupid, rigged ring toss half a dozen times before he finally scored the big prize. He was such a gentleman, too, holding on to it while you got cotton candy for the both of you.
He was the most selfless person you knew. When you saw behind the Spider-Man mask after two years of knowing Peter, you weren't at all surprised; anyone else with his abilities would have given in to darker fantasies, though he had none.
If Peter was always so willing to be helpful, he could probably do you this tiny favor, right?
"I was just thinking," you started. "I got this wedding invitation recently from my friend, Lindsey—"
"A wedding?" Peter asked with raised brows. "On—on purpose?"
Noticing his smile, you rolled your eyes and flipped him the bird, unable to help but smile yourself. "I know, we're at that age—we're gonna get a ton of wedding invitations, and each one is gonna prompt some sort of crisis where we feel both too old and too young for any major milestone."
"Wow," Peter whistled. "That's so wise—are you seeing a therapist?" Without waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question, he continued: "You know, you could avoid a lot of crises if you just didn't have friends." He gestured to himself.
You looked at him incredulously. "You have me—and Ned. And MJ."
Peter hesitated. His brows furrowed, and he avoided your eyes. "Sure, but...I mean...you're not even close to getting married. You don't even have a boyfriend."
"Gee, thanks."
"Sorry," Peter cringed. "I didn't mean—"
"That's okay," you said. "You kinda have a point. That's actually what I've been contemplating. My plus one."
Peter's brows rose. "You need a wedding date."
You nodded. "I don't have to have one—and I'd ordinarily just say screw it and tell MJ to put on her best suit, but..." you shrugged, putting Teddy back down on the couch. "Lindsey is..." you sighed. "She means well, but she can be a bit...uppity about my love life? She always points out when I don't have a boyfriend, and it obviously makes me feel...well, like crap."
"Again, sorry," Peter said, grabbing Teddy and cuddling into him. It was honestly a cute picture—not that you would admit that to your best friend. "But you don't have to find a date to the wedding unless you really want one, you know? You shouldn't do anything just because of what other people are gonna think."
You smiled slightly. "Peter, you're starting to sound like an after-school special again." You paused. "But you have a point...I don't want the stress of finding some random guy for the wedding, and I can't bring just a friend..." you lit up. "So, I could make my own boyfriend! Peter, you're a boy, right?"
Peter laughed softly. "Last time I checked, yeah."
"Could you..." you started. "I mean, I don't want to take advantage. You're too kind for your own good sometimes. But, if you wanted to go to a beautiful destination wedding on a beach at Prince Edward Island..." you rocked on your feet from heel to toe. "You could maybe play the role of my fake boyfriend?"
Peter blinked, the smile not leaving his face, though his eyes appeared distant. "I don't know, y/n. That seems—"
"You're right," you shook your head. "It's not right of me to ask that—you need to be here because Spider-Man needs to be here. Forget I said anything. I'll figure something out. Maybe I'll download Tinder again..." although you tried not to, you made a face at the thought of plunging back into the cesspool.
Peter gave you a strange look, then, as if there were some sort of misunderstanding. You didn't like that—understanding social cues were a hit or miss, but communication with Peter was usually crystal clear.
"Wait," Peter shook his head with a sigh. "It's a beach wedding, right? At some point, they're probably gonna have popcorn shrimp..."
You smiled slightly. "Are you seriously thinking of going on a four hour plane ride there and back, pretending to be my boyfriend, and giving up your entire weekend just for...popcorn shrimp?"
"Yeah, of course," Peter nodded. "I've gone on trips and taken time away from being Spider-Man before. If anything really goes wrong, I can find my way back and try to help. Besides, I don't want this Lindsey girl to make you feel bad. I might not be the best looking stand-in boyfriend, but at least I'm here with fast and free shipping." He did some half-hearted jazz hands, though his smile was genuine.
"You're the best, Peter!" You sat down beside him, pulling him (and Teddy) into a hug. "And don't you dare talk bad about yourself. We're gonna go to that wedding with two missions—one, we're gonna make everyone jealous with what a cute fake couple we are. Two, we're gonna get you as much popcorn shrimp as you want."
"Sounds like a plan," Peter agreed, leaning his head against yours.
You could only hope that he really wanted to do this. You remembered all of those faux-sweet comments Lindsey would make about how she worried about you being alone. With Peter's help, you'd make even those newlyweds jealous, all the while making sure you and Peter had the times of your life on the trip.
———
The first bump in the road hit you when you arrived at the hotel room.
The flight there was nice; you and Peter watched movies and played games. In the last hour, you had drifted off to sleep leaning against Peter's shoulder. That was a little embarrassing to wake up to, but it was nothing that hadn't happened before.
This had never happened before.
"One bed," Peter commented blankly, though the surprise across his features was clear.
"You've gotta be kidding me," you huffed, dropping your bags down onto the massive bed. The place appeared pretty romantic, with a plush red duvet and a light dimmer. There was even a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne, and—
"Chocolate dipped strawberries," you lit up, going over to the display and reading the adjoining card.
"Are we in the wrong room?" Peter asked. "'Cause I can go back down and—"
You shook your head, holding up the card with a smile. "For y/n and Peter, Compliments of Lindsey and Matt. You know, this doesn't surprise me at all. Lindsey's always had money, and she likes to keep up her appearances."
Peter narrowed his eyes, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he watched you eat one of the strawberries. "I'm still not sure if we're supposed to like Lindsey."
You shrugged. "She's got her flaws, but I like her. Almost as much as I like these strawberries. Almost." You offered him a strawberry, expecting him to take it. What you did not expect was for him to lean forward and take the strawberry with his mouth. Your face flushed, though you weren't sure why. You and Peter had done that with fries before, why were strawberries different? It was probably just the romantic vibe of the room, with the dimmed lights and the—
"So, the bed," you tried to distract yourself from that odd train of thought. "I can try to get a different room, but Lindsey might get wind of it and start asking questions...it's fine." You shook your head, offering Peter a smile. "I can just sleep on the floor."
Peter laughed. "You'd sleep on the floor? No way. This isn't like crashing at Ned's studio after a night out. This is a nice vacation. I'll take the floor."
"I don't want you on the floor," you protested.
"I don't think anyone wants either of us on the floor, that's why we're here fake-dating each other." Peter pointed out. He said the joke quickly, as if not thinking about it, and his cheeks grew pink.
You snickered. You knew Peter hated when he let the dirty jokes in his mind get ahead of him, but it was something that endeared you to him. He wasn't always Spider-Man the superhero, or Peter Parker, dressed like a Mormon to meet your parents for brunch. Sometimes he was almost...normal.
You knew more than anything that nothing could be normal for Peter.
You rolled your eyes and finally settled. "If it's not pushing any boundaries, maybe we could just...share the bed? If you promise not to sleep naked, I mean."
You don't know what prompted you to say that...or to picture it, though you quickly tried to dismiss it.
"Okay," Peter's voice was surprisingly soft at the suggestion. "I mean, just a couple hours ago you were drooling on my shoulder on the plane, so—"
"I said I was sorry!" You interjected, your own cheeks heating.
Peter grinned. "You know, I think I brought my nightgown in case this exact thing—" the rest of his smartass reply was cut off as you pushed a pillow into his face, only able to hear a muffled laugh.
———
You were too focused on your own breathing. It was unnatural.
You rolled over to see the clock on Peter's side. 12:54 AM. You huffed, trying to nuzzle into your pillow. You'd had a couple glasses of champagne with Peter, which typically would have put you to sleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, but...
But...
"Can't sleep?"
Peter's voice was soft and low with sleep, though not so much so that you worried you had woken him. You couldn't see him in the dark, though you could picture him—tussled brown hair, his baggy I Survived NYC shirt wrinkled against the sheets.
You always took notice of him in the mornings—when you spent the night at his place or vice versa, and he'd make you both waffles. You could appreciate a gesture from a friend, but in those strange moments, he seemed almost like a boyfriend.
"No," you replied. "Not used to the space, I guess."
Peter nodded—you could hear it against the sheets in the darkness. "I get that—'m living the dream, though. Couldn't tell you the last time I had a girl in my bed."
"Gross," you jabbed him in the ribs, and you smiled at the sound of his snicker. "In your dreams, Parker."
"Yeah, yeah," Peter murmured. "I do kinda miss it, though. I don't have a lot of...experience, but that's not what I'm thinking about..."
In that moment, you were sure Peter was talking some half-asleep nonsense. You were tempted to ask him some silly questions, like what his dream blunt rotation would be, or what his social security number was.
Instead, you pressed on, curious. "What are you thinking about, then?"
"Mm," Peter hummed, hesitant even in this careless state. "Just...being in bed with someone, holding them close, feeling 'em breathe. Knowing that you're keeping them safe. Knowing they want you there, that you're not a screwup..."
Something in Peter's tone made your eyes sting. "You're nowhere near a screwup. You're a hero."
"I know..." he let out a soft breath, though something in it sounded heavy.
"I was friends with you before I knew about that, anyway," you pointed out. "Because you're more than a hero. You're Peter. That matters so much more than anything else you do. Anybody would be lucky to be in bed with you...even if you have the dirty mind of a teen about it." You grinned.
Peter let out another breath, this one of laughter. A comfortable silence spanned between the pair of you.
It was silent for so long, you thought Peter had fallen asleep.
"Do you," he started, and you listened curiously. "Would you be okay with maybe cuddling with me? We've done it on the couch with movies, but I know this is different, so..."
"Yeah," you replied in agreement. "I mean, um—yeah, of course, that's fine..."
Slowly, a little awkwardly in the dark, Peter reached out, his fingertips delicate against your skin as he sought you out. He found your forearm first, reaching up and tracing along the palm of your hand.
"Sorry," his voice seemed much more awake now, much more aware. "If you could maybe just..."
You nodded even though he couldn't see you in the dark. You rolled onto your other side, facing away from him as you pushed back against him. You felt the warmth of his chest against your back, the feeling all-too-overwhelming. The feeling increased tenfold when, all implications disregarded, Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his breath against the crook of your neck.
You couldn't remember the last time you had been in bed with someone like this.
You let out a soft, shaky breath of your own, trying to calm the sudden bout of nervous butterflies in your stomach that now fluttered with no bounds. Strangely enough, that feeling only lasted for a moment. The last thing you remember was the feeling of Peter's thigh moving against yours, wrapping you closer in the embrace. It was then that comfort overwhelmed you, and you found yourself drifting off to sleep easier than ever before.
———
The morning light was bright despite the blinds, waking you up as you hummed in protest.
You and Peter were still cuddled close together, though the embrace had lost all structure. His leg was slung over your waist, his hand somehow cupping the side of your face. He was nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting out warm breaths against your skin that woke you up far more than the brightness.
"Peter," your voice was low in your drowsiness. You rolled away before stretching. "You were a second away from putting me in a headlock..."
"Mm," Peter hummed. "Sorry..." he yawned, blinking as he processed what was going on. Something then seemed to click within him, and he stiffened like a deer in headlights. "Shit, sorry!" He repeated, his cheeks flushing. "Man, I didn't mean to do that..."
"It's okay," you insisted. "Why are you all jumpy? What, were you worried about your super-strength or something?"
"Oh, uh," Peter avoided your eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly it—I mean, I could crush a watermelon between my thighs without even worrying—without even thinking about it, so..." he lifted his arm up to flex, which you glanced at with raised brows. He was no Captain America, but he was built well enough.
"Okay," you said slowly. Realization then dawned on you, and you sighed, your cheeks heating. “Is it that we, like, cuddled last night? Because that didn't have to mean anything—we both just like cuddling."
"Sure," Peter nodded. "I mean, I cuddled with Ned all the time in high school, but..."
"But?" You inquired.
"No but!" Peter shook his head. "No but at all, an absolute flat-ass situation..." he paused to catch his breath before nodding, his mouth pressed in a thin line. "I'm gonna go get ready."
He then went and locked himself in the bathroom. You looked at the door, then over to the closet where his clothes were, wondering what the heck had gotten into Peter.
———
Luckily, Peter seemed calmed down by the reception. The ceremony must have bored him; he kept glancing at you the entire time, as well as shaking his leg until you put a hand on his knee to still him.
Despite the social atmosphere, Peter seemed to open up more. After the first few times of introducing himself as "y/n's boyfriend", the obvious looks in your direction slowed to a stop. That did not stop his awkwardness, though. As endeared as you were to him, you were glad he never had to do any acting to save the world.
"Excuse me," a small voice piped up. It wasn't the umpteenth elderly couple doing their rounds of greetings, but instead a little girl of about six years old. She wore a pastel pink dress and small matching heels.
"Oh, hi," you smiled at the little girl. "You were the flower girl—Katie, right?"
Katie nodded. "I wanted a dance." She looked over at Peter, then back at you. "Mind if I take him for a spin?"
You nearly snorted. "Oh, sure—what do you think, Peter?"
Peter seemed to be trying to tone down his amused smile. "I'd be honored, Katie." He took her hand and allowed her to lead him to the floor.
As you ate—the shrimp here being unfortunately coconut, not popcorn—you watched them dance. She was standing on top of his shoes, and he seemed to be masking the pain from the jabbing of her tiny heels. As he smiled and chatted with her, you couldn't help but smile as well. Peter was good with kids—you wondered if that came from being Spider-Man, or just being Peter.
When the song was over, Katie curtsied and Peter bowed in turn, as if they were at a ball. Peter returned to the table beaming, and for some reason, it made your heart catch in your chest. You felt as if you wanted to say something, though you weren't sure what, or if you were allowed to.
Just as you opened your mouth to say something, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Lindsey, who was practically glowing with excitement in her cream-colored reception gown.
"Hey!" You gave her a hug. "Wow, you look gorgeous. Congratulations!"
"Thank you," Lindsey swept a black, curly strand of hair from her face. "And you do too! Is this," she gestured to Peter. "Is this your plus one? I saw him dancing with Katie, it was adorable!"
Peter nodded. "I'm y/n's boyfriend," he stood to shake her hand, then her new husband's. "Peter."
"It's so nice to meet you, Peter," Lindsey replied. "I didn't think y/n was seeing anyone, but she never lets me get too nosy. I was worried about her for a little bit, though!" She laughed.
Peter gave you a look, as if some of your previous description of her was clicking into place.
"We've been together for a little while," Peter shrugged, fixing Lindsey with a curious look. "Nine months, right, babe?" He glanced back at you and smiled, his gaze warm. "It feels like it's been years, but also a few great days."
For a moment, you sat in stunned silence, unsure of how to respond. His acting was so real; he seemed utterly infatuated.
Lindsey gasped softly, placing a hand on her heart. "That's exactly how I feel with my husband. Well, how'd you two meet?"
"Um," Peter started with a slight smile. "We were at this bagel place on 76th, and I was ordering my usual—"
"An everything bagel," you added out of habit. "With plain cream cheese, smushed down really flat, like a weirdo."
"Exactly," Peter laughed. "And you said that, too, remember? I remember you scoffed, and when I asked, you said that only a weirdo would want a bagel that was...what was it? Looked like it was ran over?"
"I had a point," you replied. "And you asked me what I liked, since I was such an expert in all things bagel. So I got my—"
"Blueberry bagel," Peter recalled. "Strawberry cream cheese, plus you paid extra for assorted fruit on top, like an absolute princess."
You grinned. "But you paid for mine...and you walked me to the subway, like a gentleman, while I spent the entire time roasting you on your food preferences."
"And then I offered to take her to dinner," Peter looked up at Lindsey. "I said that I knew this great pizza place, and if she wasn't blown away, I'd cover her bill. Turns out she was blown away, as expected," he met your eyes with a smile, reaching over and grabbing your hand. "But I paid, anyway. It was worth it times a thousand to get to know her..."
You squeezed his hand, and in that moment, you felt as if something were squeezing your heart, too. The way he talked about it made it sound so romantic...but, of course, neither of you mentioned the fact that his friends were at the dinner. That you had asked for it to not be a date, because you had been stood up a few nights before and were not feeling the dating scene. It was a friend thing, and at that dinner your friend status was cemented.
You never thought you wanted anything else, but...
"Excuse me," Peter's voice brought you back to reality. He smiled thinly at both you and Lindsey before standing and starting for the exit.
Perhaps he just needed to use the restroom down the hall, but something about his exit seemed...swift. Offering a smile to Lindsey as well, you followed in Peter's steps.
When you finally found him, he had a hand over his eyes, his face flushed as he tried to steady his breathing.
You felt as if you'd walked in on something you shouldn't have—or perhaps you needed to.
"Peter?" You asked softly.
Peter nearly jumped, looking at you before making a pointed effort not to do so. "Hey! Hey...y/n...I'm alright. Just...taking a second to—"
"Cry?" You asked, the word slipping out before you could think about it, and you slapped a hand over your mouth.
Peter laughed. You rushed through surprise, relief, and concern so fast, you had whiplash.
"Yeah," Peter admitted with a sigh. "I'm...not alright. But I'm trying to be. Just...go enjoy the reception, don't let me ruin it."
You shook your head. "That story...it was how we met, but you made it sound romantic."
Peter nodded. "I thought that was what we were supposed to do."
You swallowed. "It sounded really convincing. You...you like me, don't you, Peter?"
Peter seemed laser-focused on the sleeve of his suit. "How could I not, y/n?" He settled. "You're beautiful, you're fun in the same weird way I am, and you have no idea when someone's into you—you're exactly my type. But...I mean, I was trying so hard not to be that guy. You know, the 'be my girlfriend or I'll never talk to you again' guy? I can't do that—not to you, and not to myself. I want you in my life in whatever way I can have you, even if it kills me, because you're really important to me. And if you don't want to talk to me again, I understand, I won't push—"
His words faltered into silence as you reached out and held his hand.
"I like you, too, Peter. I don't think I realized it until now, but..." You started to smile. "You're one of my favorite people in the world. You’re already a great friend, so I'd love to be your girlfriend."
Peter seemed incredulous, though a moment later, his uncertain smile grew until he was fully beaming. His smile was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile as well. You went in for a hug, and he in turn lifted you, spinning you around as if you were in a romcom.
"So," Peter started. "Do you wanna go back in there and turn up the charm now that we're a real couple?"
You pondered the idea for about a half a second before shaking your head. "Screw those guys." You said. "You wanna get out of here? I bet we could find a good ice cream place."
"Sounds good to me," Peter replied, offering you a fist to bump. "Let's go to the room and get changed into some comfier clothes."
As he started towards the stairs, you reached for his hand, your heart skipping a beat as he squeezed your hand gently. You didn't want to rush things, though you wondered...perhaps when you got up to the room, you could kiss him. Perhaps, if he were interested—and while that romantic room was on someone else's bill—you could do a little bit more.
132 notes · View notes
halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago
Note
Congrats on the 5K! You deserve it! Also good luck with the florist job!
And so happy that request are open for 5K special! I hope that Im not too late-
I'd like to request a Alex Keller fic, I have this wholesome idea. Reader would be a librarian who is fascinated with military stuff, you know always reading those history book about wars or military forces! And Alex could have days off from his work and decided to spend those days in library reading some books? Reader gets to know that he is from military and instantly ask stuff!
Yes I was inspired by the fact you're working as a florist now. I just love these tropes!
Take care! 💗
—Bright-Eyed History Lesson
Tumblr media
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞
Tumblr media
“I knew it,” you smile widely, looking smug. The blond ahead of you furrows his brow, releasing a gentle puff of laughter at the look on your face, grinning. 
“And what do you mean by that?” Your book has been long placed down on the counter, expression lively and your shift finally brought to a point of enjoyment. It was a good day when Alex Keller showed up at the library, and it was even better when he went out of his way to talk to you and entice your little quirk. It had been an obsession since grade school, really, a need to inhale all knowledge about anything warlike.
“It means,” your voice echoes out over the quiet area, “that I have an impeccable ability to read people.” 
Alex rolls his eyes, arms going to cross over his chest as his feet reset themselves. His blue eyes level you with a fake expression of exasperation. The light blush on his cheeks gives him away. 
“You did not know that I was involved with the Forces just by how I looked,” he says slowly, shaking his head. “I have no doubt you’re smart, Sunshine, but that’s a stretch even by me.”
“Keller,” you raise a brow and smirk. “You’re like a walking enlistment form, c’mon. A literal picture boy.” 
“Are you going to let me check out or is this going to be an hour-long back-and-forth?” 
“Well I don’t know,” you tilt your head, eyelids crinkled. “Are you going to let me ask you questions?”
Alex raises a brow, itching at his mustache as he sighs through a chuckle. “Aren't you on the job, Ma’am?” 
“My curiosity,” you hold out a palm for the book he wishes to check out, and he produces the item from one of his hands and lightly passes it to you with a soft expression, eyes melting as you chuckle. “Stops for no one.”
“Yeah, I’m seein’ that.” He takes back his book and you smile, skin going hot. 
“Am I coming on too strong?” He blinks at you, putting his rented item under his arm and shaking his head firmly soon after.
“Hell, if all I have to do today is talk to a woman like yourself, I’d count it as time well spent.” Your confidence fizzles into shyness, eyes going wide at the hidden compliment in the smooth words. Alex smirks, lips twitching before his head tilts to the twin chairs in the corner of the entryway. “Sit with me?”
Your smile turns sheepish, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 
“Okay.”
Alex had been coming around for months, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d become a bit infatuated with the handsome blond and his mustache; those tattoos that span up his arms in splashes of color. He was kind—respectful. He gave you a soft smile every time he walked through the front door, tilting his head your way in greeting as you waved from behind the counter. When he began checking out books on war history, stories from long past conflicts, you’d given tidbits of your own knowledge over in passing, not expecting much of it. 
But, well, Alex had that air about him—the one that gave you a feeling he was either in for forces himself or had been previously. 
You both sit in the soft chairs in the entryway, your eyes alight with interest that the man can’t help but stare at as your lips start dancing. Your questions make him happy because it makes you happy to ask them, and the sight of your shining grin is like a blanket on a cold day. 
He wouldn’t have checked out all of those books if not to see you again, of course. He’s not some scholar—there are only so many hours in the day to read. He still has a stack in his room he needs to get through. 
Alex laughs, easing out with a raised hand. “One at a time, Sweetheart.”
You itch at the side of your neck, shrugging as you take him in with a tease. “At least try to keep up, Alex.”
His body shifts as you say his name, the warm lights of the library around you and the air filled with the scents of cinnamon and old leaves. Blue eyes shine, blinking away with a laugh as he clears his throat to try and hide the plain happiness in it. 
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I’ll try, but at least show me a bit of mercy over here, Doll.” You hum, leaning on the arm of the chair to be closer to him. Alex’s breath lightly hitches as you smirk. 
“How long until you need to leave?” Your voice asks out, and he watches you as if you’re the only person to exist. 
Bless his soul, he was absolutely lost to you.
Alex’s face goes a shade of red. 
“I’m here as long as you need me,” he says and matches your level of mischievousness with a quirk of his brow. “You’ve heard about the cat that got killed by his curiosity, yeah? Well, I’d hate to have that happen to you, Ma’am. Seems I’ve got my work cut out.”
If it was possible, you think you just fell in love.
Tumblr media
392 notes · View notes