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charliemwrites · 4 months ago

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Mean Simon, Part 5

Another thing in the queue done 😎 also plan on reformatting this so it has a proper title and pretty dividers tonight.

Content: Established kidnapping situation, dub-con touching, Fear Play/Kink

Simon and Johnny come home from deployment to you snoozing in the den. The house is clean as always, smells like lemons and linen, but there are signs of you everywhere. A half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, a book on the arm of the couch, a cup left on the kitchen counter. Not the spick and span catalgouesque space they left.

Simon’s a little surprised to find he doesn’t mind. Something in his shoulders eases at the sight of you. A soft thing to come home to, nesting up in his and Johnny’s territory. A novelty that hasn't worn off.

“Oh, pretty girl,” Johnny coos, dropping his bags in the entry and beelining for you.

The sound of him startles you, fingers curling tight into the blankets. You make a nervous sound of protest, disoriented as you blink against the afternoon light. Not that he cares, smothering you beneath his weight and kissing your face.

“Johnny…?” you yawn, slow to release the fabric. Take a moment to calibrate and then nudge gently at his chest. “S’mon doesn’ like shoes on the carpet.”

“That’s right,” Simon rumbles, “so I’m having a hard time understanding why the fuck they’re there.”

Johnny jolts, shoots him a sheepish look over his shoulder. All it takes is a narrow glare for him to skitter away, mumbling apologies and excuses about missing you. Simon ignores him for the moment.

“Here, pet.”

It takes you an extra beat to realize he's talking to you, but then you’re up and padding over to him, rubbing at your eyes. You stop within arms reach (progress, he notes) and peer at him through your lashes.

“Hi, sir,” you chime.

Not quite what he had in mind, but it’s a start.

“Good while I was gone?”

You tilt your head. “Yes? Unless… there was something I was supposed to do…?”

He huffs in amusement. Such a nervous, sweet thing. He pats your head, smirks a bit at how you fluster, hands fidgeting.

“House looks fine,” he says by way of answer.

“Oh, I-I left some things out…” you mumble, glancing at the few unobtrusive items. “Sorry.”

“Just keep it under control, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

Johnny, just finished removing his boots and gear, wraps himself around you from behind. You place a hand slowly on his arm in return, hiding that you don’t melt into him the way he does to you.

“Are you hungry?” you ask.

Not especially, but Simon’s never hungry fresh off a mission, belly warm with more than his share of slaughter. But the thought of your cooking is appetizing.

“Make something.”

“Okay.” You wiggle a bit and tap at Johnny’s tight arm. “Johnny?”

Simon bites back a chuckle at the helpless look you shoot him.

“Shower, Sergeant. Now.”

“Yessir,” Johnny grumbles, slow to unwind from you. Petulant little shit.

As soon as you’re clear, Simon snatches him by the scruff. You jump, eyes rounding.

“Off to the kitchen, little one. The mutt needs one more run ‘round the yard I think.”

Johnny whines, but Simon’s watching your face, noting the fear that flickers across it while you inch away. Just as he suspected, even seeing Johnny disciplined is enough to shake you.

“Yes, sir,” you reply more fervently, turning on your heel and nearly bolting.

He lets out a breath. One thing at a time. For now, he’s got a spoiled pup to bring to heel.

Simon’s been busy these last two weeks.

Johnny on his own is nearly a full time job. Even after he got you, the pup is high energy and too clever for his own good. A working dog, that one. And finding “work” for him to do (especially since he’s been banned from entertaining himself with your pretty holes) has kept Simon rather occupied during this leave.

Add you to the mix and Simon’s bloodlust has been slower to boil over than usual - too busy to miss his guns.

He’s been acclimating you. The No Touching directive seems seared into your muscles, a good lesson to have, an important rule for your own safety as much as Simon’s preference. But it doesn’t serve him any longer. He’s trying to retrain you to Johnny’s rule, No Touching Without Permission - but of all your apprehensions, this one seems the worst.

You’ve gotten braver about speaking to him. Only stutter over every other sentence rather than every other word. You still pick and choose carefully, tune your voice to the notes of conciliation, but not silent unless spoken to anymore. Simon’s almost proud.

But the touching issue. That’s what he really wants to break.

You can at least share space with him now without startling at every little thing. Curled up on the couch, you’re folding laundry. Johnny’s gone off to shower, busy in the garden all afternoon. The telly is on, a sci-fi movie that Simon isn’t interested in but you seem to enjoy.

You're cross-legged in a loose pair of shorts and the jumper Johnny stuffed you into (with his own name across the back, the little shit). Quiet, calm. He likes the way you fold clothes - imprecise, a little messy. Not the perfect squares he and Johnny make.

“Pet.”

You turn to him, expression curious. Much better.

“C’mere.”

You pause. “Can I finish this shirt?”

He nods. There’s only a tiny shake in your hands as you do. Then you stand and shuffle to close the small distance.

Still not touching.

Lazily, he spreads his knees apart, feet planted wide and beckons you closer with a finger. This time you do hesitate, knee bent to step forward for one beat… two… then you finally force yourself to squeeze between his legs. You don’t even brush against him. It’s almost impressive.

“Told you to c’mere, didn’t I?” he drawls.

You brow furrows, confusion turning your plush lips into a cute little pout.

“I - am I not… here?” you ask.

He practically purrs. “No.” He gestures again. “Here.”

You suck in a tiny breath as it seems to click. “Y-your lap?”

He hums. You open your mouth, close it. Fidget and then open your mouth again. Nothing comes out.

“Not gonna say again, pet,” he rumbles.

You inhale deeply. And then, as if he’s a bear trap about to snap closed, you start to climb over him. Slowly, so slowly, you ease each of your legs over his, hands hovering until you nearly lose your balance and have to use his shoulders for support. You’re straddling him, but none of your weight is on his thighs; you’re up on your knees and trembling.

He meets your eyes. Waits.

“Sir… I…”

“All the way.”

Embarrassed heat radiates off you as you lower slowly, until your soft ass is pillowed on his broad thighs.

“Good girl,” he soothes. “See, that’s not so bad, is it?”

You shake your head, but you’re not able to meet his eyes. He’s starting to see why Johnny fawns over you so much. You make such precious expressions.

“Eyes up.”

You drag your gaze to his - and this time he does coo. You’re all teary and overwhelmed, nearly holding your breath, fingers twitching on his shoulders.

“You’re doing so well, lamb.”

You’re struggling to maintain eye contact, so he takes pity, appreciating the entirety of you on him instead. Admires the round pudge of your thighs and bent hips, the curve of your spine staying upright. He thumbs your ribs, feels your heart rabbiting against them.

“Breathe,” he coaxes.

You inhale sharply, blinking hard. His cock jumps against the waistband of his joggers.

“I-is there…?” You stop. He nods for you to try again. “W-why, um… this?”

“Think you ‘n I could use some exposure to each other, eh?”

You blink. “E-exposure?”

“Mm.” He raises a hand, gradually so you can see it coming. Twists a strand of your hair around his trigger finger - lets it bounce back. Does it again. “Can’t have you skitterin’ about like a kicked dog.”

“Oh.” You blink. “I-I thought…”

He waits for you to finish the sentence, but you just press your lips together nervously. Still a work in progress, then.

“‘F I wanted that, you wouldn’t be up here.”

Never mind the months he spent ignoring your presence and scowling when you got too close. Or the week he made a game of spooking you just before this all began. He doesn’t want that anymore.

You may be Johnny’s toy, but Johnny belongs to Simon. Besides, he got you for Johnny. Only right that he plays with you too.

“Alright, little one. Off you go before the pup comes back and makes a fuss.”

You scramble as quickly and carefully as you can back to your end of the couch. Simon turns back to the telly and lets you be.

Johnny, bless him, doesn’t notice that you’re any quieter than usual.

The next time he has you climb into his lap, he’s drinking bourbon. You’ve cast him one too many glances from your side of the couch, keep losing your place in your book.

When Johnny eventually shuffles off to shower and prep his pretty ass, Simon calls you over again. You crawl across the couch and sit back on your heels at his side, more curious than frightened for once.

“You want a sip?” he asks, tilting the glass towards you.

“…please?” you ask.

He hums. “Tilt your head.”

You only jolt a little when he cups the nape of your neck, urging your head back. Understanding, you part your lips - though you must be expecting the glass. You squeak a little as he seals his mouth over yours, golden drops of bourbon sliding off his tongue onto yours.

He lingers, the taste of you mixing with the alcohol into something heady. Your mouth is so sweet and yielding, tongue shy as it grazes his. He licks across your dull canines, relishes in the noise trapped in the back of your throat, before pulling away.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“It burns,” you mumble, a bit high-pitched.

“You’ll get used to it.”

With liquid courage in your tummy, you make the journey into his lap a little quicker this time.

“What’re you lookin’ at, huh?” he asks, leaning back to watch you through lidded eyes.

“You, um… your jaw. You usually wear the mask,” you explain, flushing.

“Pull it up to eat,” he points out.

“‘M usually eating too, though.”

He snorts in amusement. “Nosy little thing.”

You must hear that he doesn’t mean it because your voice isn’t especially sincere when you mumble, “sorry.”

Your eyes keep roaming what little of his face is available, though. And your twitchy little fingers keep flexing in his shirt.

“Ask.”

“Can I touch?”

He hums. “Ask nicer.”

You blink, consider. “May I please touch your face, sir?”

He grunts the affirmative, mouth dried by the honeyed lilt to your voice. Sugar would taste bitter in comparison.

Your fingers brush featherlight across the point of his jaw. Follow the line of it until you reach a nasty scar from a hunting knife. Trace it twice before creeping along to his chin. You repeat it for the mark there, all the way up to the corner of his lips. He snaps his teeth, making you yelp and jerk back.

“That was mean,” you complain quietly.

“Poor dear,” he croons, flashing his canines again.

“D-don’t bite… please.”

He makes a noncommittal noise, but you still take the chance of skimming those gentle fingers across his mangled cheek. It’s a strange sensation, charged. Sends odd prickles across his entire face, down his spine. Not even Johnny touches him this softly.

Simon’s teeth and jaw ache with the urge to sink in and shake. You’d give like a ripe peach, he just knows it. Would taste just as good. His mouth waters.

“Enough.”

You instantly pull away. Not even a squeak of protest. He flutters his eyes open; you’ve got both hands clearly visible and to yourself. Smart thing.

“You scared ‘o me?” he wonders.

You don’t answer, but the indent your teeth press into your bottom lip is answer enough.

“Good. Should be.”

You swallow, start to lower your hands, intending to get off his lap. He snatches up one of your wrists before you get far, the bones so delicate in his grasp. You gasp quietly, but know better than to try to escape.

“Didn’t tell you to go yet.”

“O-okay,” you breathe.

Eyes on yours, he drags your hand closer, brushes his lips across the tender meat of your thumb. Your fingers stay lax, but your pupils are blown out. Slowly, deliberately, he presses his teeth into the flesh and closes his jaw until you twitch, expression tightening with discomfort. There.

He stays like that for the count of three, then lets go.

There’s a perfect imprint of his teeth in your skin. Might even bruise. Pretty.

He twists his wrist, flattens your palm against his. So much smaller than his, more elegant. More delicate. A much different animal from him, but still you belong in his den.

“Breathe,” he reminds without looking away.

You inhale shakily. Practically squirming now. He drops his hand and presses the bourbon glass into yours.

“One more for the road.”

You take the tiniest of sips. He chuckles at the face you make as you hand it back.

You don’t like the taste as much as from his lips.

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #mean simon #mean simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #unhealthy polyamory #heavy kink

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withloveajaxx · 2 years ago

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forgetting your wallet

𓂅 genre: childe, diluc, zhongli, xiao x gn! reader

𓂅 warnings: none

𓂅 summary: how they react when you go shopping and tell then you forgot your wallet

𓂅 note: eyyy it's rich boys ft. zhongli n xiao 😎 anyways as you can see below,,, there's going to be other version of this fic featuring different fandoms/characters i've been thinking about writing for for a while now!! i hope it won't be weird seeing me post something other than genshin content 💀 if you think i should make separate blogs for separate fandoms just lmk hehe. ALSO!! got inspo from those couple vids of "telling my bf i forgot my wallet" trend on tiktok :"D. OKAY ENOUGH OF MY RAMBLING PLS ENJOY THIS FIC N HAVE A GREAT DAY MWAH 🫶

[VALORANT VER.] [HAIKYUU!! VER.]

CHILDE

literally offended™️ like what? what do you mean you expected him to let you pay for shit?

the moment you enter a clothing store, he's looking at you with a completely lovesick gaze, watching as you scan through the various clothing items.

willingly holds the shopping basket for you as you pick out an item or two, turning them to check their prices.

he sees you reach in your bag, eventually frowning and putting the items back. he's confused at first, catching your wrist before you can hang the clothes back on the rack.

"why're you putting them back? they'd look so good on you," he comments, a puzzled frown making its way to his face.

"i forgot my wallet," you admit sheepishly, giving him a bashful smile. "it's fine though. i'll come back and–"

"you expected me to let you pay?" he asks in disbelief, jaw comically dropping to the floor. you don't even get the chance to get a word in before he's snatching those clothes for you and stuffing them in the basket.

"you're unbelievable." he scoffs in an exaggerated and lighthearted manner before gesturing to the rest of the store with a nod of his head. "just get whatever you want, babe. don't worry about anything."

"are you sure?" you ask doubtfully, looking around the rest of the store with a barely concealed look of desire.

"mhm. go wild." childe chuckles, pecking your forehead and nodding in response. the blinding smile and little fashion show you gave him afterwards was all he would have ever asked for in return.

DILUC

poor man is so confused when you start putting the things in your shopping cart back on the shelves :((

he was so entertained seeing you grab all the goodies you wanted and dumping them into the cart.

he's looking at you with concern when you stop in the middle of the aisle to check your bag, a growing frown on your face as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"what's wrong darling?" he asks, placing a hand on the small of your back to give you some reassurance. "are you looking for something?"

"my wallet..." you sighs and close your bag, looking at the mountain of stuff in your cart with a disappointed pout. "i forgot it somewhere at home."

he's frozen in both confusion and shock when you slowly start returning items to their rightful places on the shelves. "i'll just get them some other time, i guess."

now it's diluc's turn to furrow his brows. he's literally right in front of you???? he can and will pay for anything???

"oh, darling," he coos gently, placing whatever he could recall you getting back into the cart. "i can pay for it. you don't need to worry about such things."

"thank you diluc," you smile, standing on your toes to place a grateful kiss to his cheek. "i promise i'll repay you some time."

"no need, dearest." he sends you a smile that has your heart squeezing almost painfully in adoration for the man before you. "you're happiness is all that matters."

ZHONGLI

okay i know this man doesn't have much money, but i can pretty much guarantee you that you're getting whatever you lay your eyes on.

you're looking through a small trinkets kiosk with some of the cutest accessories you've ever seen.

zhongli admires the trinkets along with you, smiling as you pick up some pieces of jewelry to try them on.

"that looks wonderful on you, dear," he compliments you fondly, admiring how exquisite a particular bracelet looked on your wrist.

thankfully, the bracelet wasn't made out of any expensive materials so it was rather affordable, and you could easily get it for yourself.

however, as you rummage your bag for your wallet, it's unfortunately nowhere to be found.

zhongli, ever the observant, already noticed the troubled look on your face. he's connected the dots by now so this man is bringing out his own wallet. "let me, my love." he starts looking through his wallet for some spare coins and any bills he can find.

you grab onto his coat sleeve in an attempt to stop him from paying on your behalf. "zhongli, i can't let you–" he's already handed a stack of coins and a single bill in payment before you can even finish your sentence.

"nonsense, dear." he pats the bracelet on your wrist. "it's my pleasure to buy something that looks simply stunning on you."

he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it lovingly before linking your arms together once more. "if there is anything else that catches your eye, do let me pay for it. it would be my greatest honor to spoil you."

XIAO

he's far less lovey-dovey and physically affectionate compared to the other men mentioned above, but rest assured he'll get whatever you want <3

he doesn't really like being in a crowded space with tons of people, so when you go shopping he's more quiet.

of course he's helping you by carrying the basket and giving you his opinions when you ask for it, but that's about all he does.

he's still as observant as ever though, so when he sees you putting the stuff you wanted back in their places with an upset expression, he knows something's off.

"why're you putting them back?" he asks, brows furrowing in slight confusion.

"i don't have money to pay for it right now. i left my wallet somewhere," you explain sadly, putting the last of your items on the shelf.

he simply hums in understanding before going back to being quiet. he doesn't immediately do something but you'll see how much he loves you later on.

"why don't you go back to the car?" he hands you the keys, and gestures to the basket filled with the rest of the stuff he's getting for himself. "maybe your wallet's in there. you go look while i pay for my stuff."

you agree and by the time you've searched all over the car, xiao is back with numerous bags. you were still upset about your wallet so you didn't get to notice the oddly numerous amount of bags before hopping into the car and letting xiao drive you both home.

however when you get home, he hands you literally everything you were eyeing, his expression soft. "i can pay for stuff. don't be afraid to ask me. i can't say no to you," he reminds you, the tip of his ears blushing red at both his admission and the happy smile you give him that makes his heart pound in affection.

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soberpluto · 1 month ago

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Moon Signs Ranked By How They Handle Drama

Get your Tarot/Runes/Astrology reading here!

Before we dive into the matter, let’s talk about the difference between your Sun sign and your Moon sign when it comes to handling drama. Your Sun sign reflects your outward personality, your ego, and how you present yourself to the world—this is how you might want to handle drama. But your Moon sign? That’s where the real tea is. Your Moon sign represents your emotional self, your gut reactions, and how you process your feelings—especially in stressful, dramatic situations. So, when things get messy, it’s your Moon sign that determines whether you’ll be calmly sipping your coffee or lighting a fire in response.

As always, it's impossible to determine how anything will manifest exactly because we need to look at the rest of the chart… however, this is a good starting point!

Now, let’s rank the Moon signs, from the chillest of them all to the total drama queens/kings!

😎Taurus Moon: These are emotional anchors. They’re so grounded and stable that even the biggest storm of drama won’t knock them over. If chaos is swirling around, they’re sitting there like, “Meh, I’ll deal with it later.” They’ll avoid unnecessary conflict because their emotional comfort is priority number one. Taurus Moon handles drama by not handling it—at least not until it’s absolutely necessary. It's wise to avoid provoking them though because when they finally give into anger, they literally become raging bulls.

👽Aquarius Moon: Aqua Moon responds to drama like they’re watching a documentary about it. They keep a cool, intellectual distance and would rather analyze the situation from every angle before reacting. Emotionally, they prefer to float above it all—if they don’t feel it, it doesn’t exist. The only time they get involved is if something piques their curiosity or challenges their ideals, but even then, they keep it super chill. If you manage to trigger them, however, you can expect humongous logical argumentation and zero emotional input. Be ready to be attacked with irrefutable proof of your mistakes, even if it's only in their heads.

🥱Capricorn Moon: Cap Moons approach drama like it’s a puzzle to be solved. Emotions? They’re filed away neatly so they can think logically through the chaos. When drama hits, Capricorn Moon stays calm, organized, and already has a 10-step plan to defuse the situation. Drama doesn’t rattle them, but if you mess with their sense of control or reputation, they might quietly strategize your downfall. But hey, it’s nothing personal—just business. And rest assured you'll be target number one of their bitter sarcasm.

📁Virgo Moon: These are all about emotional efficiency. They don’t love drama because it disrupts their need for order and clarity, but when it comes, they handle it like they’re cleaning up a spill—quickly, thoroughly, and with minimal fuss. They’ll quietly process their emotions and offer a solution before anyone else even realizes there’s a problem. Drama can’t last long in a Virgo Moon’s world; they’ll organize it out of existence. Expect them, however, to judge and critize you endlessly in secret after they've seen any dramatic tendencies in you.

❤️‍🩹Libra Moon: They do hate drama, but they’ll get involved if it means restoring balance. They want everyone to get along, and they’ll go to great lengths to keep the peace. Expect diplomacy, compromise, and maybe a little passive-aggressive avoidance if things get too heated. They handle drama by smoothing things over and pretending it’s not that bad, even if it’s a total mess. But deep down? It stresses them out a lot. They are good at handling conflict, but not so much at managing their emotions towards it.

😭Pisces Moon: They don’t just handle drama—they feel it on a soul level. They absorb everyone’s emotions, making it hard to tell where their feelings end and the drama begins. They’ll cry, dream, and escape into their imagination when things get too intense, but they’ll also offer deep emotional wisdom if needed. Drama drains them, but they can’t help but get caught up in the emotional tides because it's very hard for them to place boundaries around them. Just don’t expect them to confront it head-on—they’ll probably swim away instead.

👄Gemini Moon: Having the Moon in the sign of twins makes someone handle drama by talking their way through it—a lot. They process their emotions quickly, and before you know it, they’ve shared their side of the story with three different friend groups. Drama doesn’t weigh them down for long, but their curiosity might lead them to stir the pot a little just to see what happens. They love a good story, even if they have to create it themselves.

😝Sagittarius Moon: Sagittarius Moons don’t go looking for drama, but their blunt honesty tends to create it. They’ll handle it by saying exactly what’s on their mind, no sugar-coating involved. Drama may flare up because of something they’ve said, but they’ll stand by it and probably throw in a philosophical explanation about why they’re right. They move on quickly, though—they’ve got bigger things to focus on than petty arguments.

🥺Cancer Moon: Cancer Moons can't help take everything personally, so when drama hits, they’re deep in their feelings. They’ll retreat into their emotional shell, relive the situation in their head a million times, and probably cry about it. But don’t mistake their sensitivity for weakness—if pushed, they’ll lash out with a full emotional outburst. Drama can linger for Cancer Moon—they’ll hold onto it long after everyone else has moved on.

😈Scorpio Moon: This stingy Moon handles drama with intense, silent calculation. They don’t just feel emotions—they live them, and if you’ve wronged them, they’re not going to forget. They’ll wait, watch, and plot their next move in the emotional chess game. Drama with a Scorpio Moon doesn’t end with a big blow-up; it simmers beneath the surface, slowly building until they strike. When they do, it’s obsessive, intense and final.

🎭Leo Moon: Leo Moons love drama because it’s an opportunity to showcase their emotions. If there’s a spotlight, Leo Moon is stepping into it, ready to deliver an emotional performance worthy of an Oscar. They’ll take the drama personally, make it bigger than it needs to be, and then get over it just as quickly once they’ve had their moment in the sun. It’s not that they seek out drama—they just can’t resist the stage when it’s there.

🥊Aries Moon: This Martian Moon is pure fire when it comes to handling drama. They don’t sit back—they run headfirst into it, ready to confront the situation with full force. If emotions flare, expect yelling, arguing, and maybe even some impulsive actions. Aries Moon doesn’t shy away from conflict; in fact, they kind of thrive in it. They’ll burn bright, get it all out, and then move on just as quickly, leaving a trail of emotional debris in their wake.

Hope you have a little fun reading! Thanks a lot :)

Written by @soberpluto

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r7leee · 3 months ago

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wild heart

HEY CHAT!!! guess who’s backkk 😎 so uh there’s absolutely ZERO towa content on this app and i know my girlies are hungry so this is what we’re doing now!!! take it or leave it

pairing: towa bird x fem!bsf!reader

summary: you’re falling messily, horribly, sappily, all around in love with your best friend, towa. thinking she doesn’t feel the same, you stay quiet. little do you know, you should have higher expectations…

warnings: RPF!! don’t like, don’t read, friends to lovers, kind of slow burn?, cursing, established towa and reader crushes (KISS ALREADY, MY GOD), reader likes/liked men at some point, really just fluff

word count: 2900, should take about 22 minutes to read (whoops)

listen to: wild heart by towa bird

“you say i got a reckless streak in my snakeskin boots and levi’s jeans”

YOU’D ONLY MET her a few months ago, but if you knew anything about towa bird, it was that she was an absolute ladykiller.

“how do you do it?” you remember asking her over coffee. towa finished her sip, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

“do what? sip my coffee?” you snickered.

“no. have so many girls fawn over you.” a look of realization came on her face. in response, she just shrugged.

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean?! there’s gotta be something,” you said, shocked. all she did was laugh and shake her head.

“charm? don’t know what you want me to say.”

the moment you met, she had actually just gotten broken up with by her most recent ex. you remember that day so clearly; how you both ran into each other on the sidewalk, the coffee stain on your shirt, how she apologized so fast you thought she’d explode out of fear.

she insisted she give you her number, take you out for lunch sometime soon as an apology. you thought she was cute.

turns out, the real towa was just hiding under her misery. she was funny, jarring, bold.

and you didn’t know why, but every time she showed up at your apartment after a night out, or you two were out in the city and she told you about the amazing girl she’d met the night before, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. not even just that; hurt. jealous.

there was no reason to even be as upset as you were; really, they never lasted.

towa would show up at a party, get drunk, find some girl, they’d fuck, then a few different things could happen: towa would forget to ask the girl’s number, the girl would have a boyfriend (ouch), the girl would barely remember the night before, etc.

the most charming part of it all, though? she’d regain her composure so quick, it was almost like nothing happened. you admired it, even celebrated a little when it happened. even if it was bad, you wanted her, and that’s something you couldn’t deny.

“i think you got a wicked smile, and those angel eyes with timeless style”

even if you didn’t know it, those feelings were mutual. heavily.

honestly, towa didn’t even know why she still did this. this constant cycle of fuck, forget, repeat. well she did know why she was doing it, but she hated the reason.

she wanted you. all of you. she had a good sense of detecting crushes, and the second she felt her heart pang looking at you, she knew she was a goner.

the day she knew she liked you, you were at the beach. the both of you went together with some friends. while towa was swimming in the ocean, you had just wanted to tan. you looked gorgeous, laying on your back, reading a book you specifically curated for that day.

but your beauty wasn’t stopping her from getting you in the water.

towa had told one of her friends in the water with her she'd be back in a second as she stepped out and onto the shoreline. she pulled her hair out of her eyes as she glanced at you, eyes fixed on your book. she smiled unconsciously at it.

once she walked over to the umbrella the group was at, the group greeted her. she said hi back before leaning down to your level. "you should get in the ocean," she mumbled.

"mm," you scrunched your face. "it's cold."

"and it's hot out here. come ooooooon," she whined, almost similar to a kid being refused dessert. it made you giggle.

"towa, i love you, but i'm just not feeling it." she sighed, shaking her head and standing back up.

"alright, fine." she glanced at you one more time, pretending to walk away, before she quickly snatched the book out of your hands, dropped it on the sand, and picked you up.

your friends laughed as you shrieked, laughing a bit too. she slung you over her shoulder, walking as fast as she could to the sea as you pleaded her to stop, both of you laughing so hard your stomachs hurt.

once she was in deep enough, she threw you into the cold sea. you screamed as you fell, but quickly regained your composure to splash towa in the face with salt water.

the way you laughed, how your wet hair looked, and how your gorgeous eyes reflected in the sunlight told her enough to know she was gaining a silly, high-school crush on you.

“i could smoke you out for fun in my leather vest. i love you 'til the death, you’re a bullet in my chest”

surprisingly, you had no idea towa even did music until a while after you met. you were at her apartment for dinner, when you asked, “what do you do for work?”

she’d mentioned needing to do stuff for her job a few times, but never exactly what she did.

when she told you, you were shocked. “why didn’t you tell me?! that’s so fucking cool!” you exclaimed.

“cause i don’t think it’s that good!”

that night, you looked her up on spotify and listened to her full discography, even if it wasn’t the biggest. you had no idea how she could think it wasn’t good. it was amazing.

against her wishes, you were there, front row at her next show. she was playing a festival and you stood at the front of the stage for three hours before she came on.

you caught her eyes almost immediately. a small smile spread on her face and she softly shook her head, quickly continuing the song.

when you looked at her outfit, you were taken aback. she was wearing a new leather vest you’d never seen with a long-sleeve black shirt, her usual levi’s jeans, and her usual jewelry. but it was her shoes. these snakeskin boots. you gave them to her for her birthday and she’d never worn them until today. you thought she didn’t like them.

after the show, she led you backstage. she was laying back on a couch, sweaty, gulping from a water bottle you brought her. you nervously tapped your hands on your thigh. “you did great.”

she finished gulping, wiping her mouth. “thank you. it wasn’t my best show, though. kind of embarrassed you saw that.”

“i thought it was great.”

“i messed up a bit, though.”

“i didn’t even notice,” you reassured. she sighed.

“you sure?”

“100%.” she let the topic go, nodding her head. you sat in awkward silence for a second. the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “you’re wearing the boots.” she glanced down at them.

“oh, ya.”

“thought you didn’t like them.”

“no, i do, it’s just…didn’t have a good time to wear them. until today. thought they’d look good with the outfit.”

you nodded in understanding. “i mean, they do look good. but boots? on stage?

“mm, wasn’t thinking. just thought it looked nice,” she lied. truth was, she wanted a reminder of you to be on her, no matter the pain. you just shook your head.

“fuckin’ dumbass. you look nice, though.”

“awwww, thanks, darling,” she teased, suddenly leaning over to kiss your cheek.

this was a banter you two had; acting like a couple jokingly. anyone with eyes could see it wasn’t casual for either of you, but you two were just oblivious and doubtful.

you smiled and blushed. “of course, honey,” you said through a giggle. she patted your thigh, kicking off her shoes.

“come on, let’s get you home.”

the next morning, videos of the performance scattered the internet. there was one particular video you saw: it was when she noticed you in the crowd. the text read “OMFG DOES SHE HAVE A GF??? WHO IS SHE LOOKING AT LIKE THAT WHATTTT”

the whole rest of the day, you were smiling and giggly, happy someone thought you two were more than just friends.

little did you know, towa had seen the same video and felt the same exact way.

“oh you, i can’t believe that you could tame my wild, wild heart”

even if crushes weren't that unusual for towa, this was to a new extreme. you were always somehow there, in the back of her mind.

when she was trying to go to bed, when she was watching a movie you mentioned you liked once, when she had any time to herself, her thoughts always drifted to you. it was eating her alive.

suddenly, to your surprise, the nights she spent out decreased. she started to take care of herself more, becoming less hungover and more energetic.

you two hung out more, making it almost a weekly ritual to meet up for dinner at one of your apartments. you would either cook or order dinner, catch up on the latest gossip, and laugh as the warm glow of the kitchen lights illuminated your faces.

you both always wanted to reach out, feel the other's skin on their palm. but you never did. you both opted for scooting a bit closer when the other wasn't looking and hoped that was enough. it made towa’s heart pound and she didn't know why.

you were making her crazy.

"i'm pretty quick, shoot from the hip with words that whip, but i'm in your grip"

it didn't take long for her to tell you how she felt. that's kind of just how towa was; quick. just like a stereotypical lesbian.

you always teased her about it, saying you'd never agree to go as fast as she did. and you always believed that. until it happened to you.

the two of you were having breakfast at a restaurant (towa paying for part of losing a bet.) you were just chatting and cracking jokes, like usual.

you took a bite of your food, but after you swallowed, you noticed your best friend staring at your face. "what? did my makeup smear?" she just laughed and shook her head.

all of a sudden, she was leaning over the table. "got a bit of food right...here." she wiped the bit of crumbs away with her thumb. she could feel your skin heat up under her fingertip, and honestly, she couldn't blame you; she would've been doing the same.

in fact, she was doing the same as she finished off with a soft "there" and sat back down.

what followed was an awkward silence as you both looked everywhere except the other's face. you looked back down and tried to start eating again, but there was an undeniable lump in your throat.

you heard a soft laugh from the end of the table. "you're cute when you do that." you almost choked.

"i'm sorry?"

"you heard me," she stated, taking a sip of her juice before continuing. "you're cute."

you didn't know how to respond, just sitting with your mouth hung wide open. "uh- thank yo-"

"do you wanna go out?" she cut you off. again, a few seconds passed. "like, uh, you know, to just, like, a museum or something...later...like, in a few days."

"as friends?"

"as whatever you want it to be."

that was all the clarity you needed. you immediately said yes.

"throw your lasso, come and catch me, babe. i'm indiana jones, you're my last crusade"

you weren’t sure if the museum counted as a date. you absolutely wanted it to, but the whole event was a little friendly.

you just walked around like you two normally would with anything, albeit a little awkwardness. she offered you to stay the night at her place, and of course, you couldn’t turn that down.

the both of you ended up on her couch, you in her clothes, watching indiana jones. “it’s for nostalgia,” towa had told you.

after being out in the chilly winter air, you and towa were wrapped in one of her blankets. she only had one, since the others were in the wash, so you had to share.

the contact was killing you; you could barely pay attention to the movie. every time towa moved to make herself more comfortable you felt shock waves through your body. it was almost kind of pathetic.

she noticed this but didn't say anything, simply continuing the tease the shit out of you.

at a certain point, she spoke, causing you to jump. “you know, if they were hot enough, i’d let somebody betray me and send me down into that firey pit of hell any time they wanted." you were confused.

"what?"

"i mean, if they were hot enough." you snorted.

"seriously? that's like, a death wish!"

"okay, imagine the hottest person in the world. if you let them do anything to you for a chance of them liking you back, would you?" you thought for a second.

"no."

"bullshit! fucking bullshit," she exclaimed.

you just rolled your eyes, defending yourself. but, when you thought about it that night, you realized you maybe would've let towa do that. maybe.

"gravel in my throat and sweetness on my tongue. this ain't my first rodeo, my bad, i should have known."

when the two of you were going out, before you were officially "girlfriends," towa was trying to gauge you. when you two were together, walking down the street or looking at clothes, she'd ask you "do you like this shiny material, or like, soft?" "okay, i know you think her hair makes her hot, but is there anything else there? at all?" "do you think he's funny?" to a comedian on tv.

you barely even noticed the sudden questioning since it was so spaced out. i mean, she did things like this constantly. she always wanted to get to know you better.

but, since you started going out, her questions turned from funny and lighthearted to trying to figure out if a certain pair of pants would make you like her more. she just wanted to be perfect for you, even if she already was in your head.

as time went on, the questions started to get more and more obvious she wanted to set a precedent of what you liked. which was what led to surprising news to her.

you two were sitting on a park bench after a walk. taking a sip of water from your water bottle, you looked around. towa examined your face, smiling at its natural beauty. your eyes darting around were angelic to her. "you said you had a relationship in college?"

you turned to face her. "ya?"

"what was she like?"

"oh...uh, it was a guy..."

"oh." she sat for a second. "really?"

"really."

"have you ever been with another girl, then?" you shook your head. "woah." she had to process that for a second. in her head, you were kissing girls left and right in your younger years, but you weren't. "so like...when did you find out you liked girls?"

you recalled the memory in your head. "a few years back. i don't know, i just saw two girls kissing on the subway and i was like, 'i kinda want that,' y'know?" she nodded.

"have you ever been kissed by a girl?" okay, this conversation was taking a huge turn. you quickly shook your head.

"i mean, no, but i always thought it'd be...kinda nice..." you trailed off.

all of a sudden, she was scooting closer to you. "come here," she mumbled, before quickly adding, "if you want to, of course."

"yes," you replied too quick. she smiled and cupped your cheek in her hand. then her lips were on yours and it was beautiful.

it was only for a quick second, but when she pulled away, she had a bit of your lip gloss on her lips and they were so soft, you were spiraling. "you want anoth-"

you didn't even let her finish before you went back in. she giggled into the kiss, keeping her hand on your cheek.

“the open road is the loneliest, come ride by my side into the sunset”

it took months to get to this point, but here you were; on a picnic on a date in the city, staring off into the sunset. your head was on towa’s shoulder as you stared off at the sky, full of vibrant oranges and pinks.

her hand was unconsciously stroking your hair, admiring with you. “hey,” she mumbled. you looked up at her.

“hm?”

“so, uh…i know we’ve kind of like, been going out for a while now…” oh my god. was this it?

“i was just…meaning to ask you if you’d maybe want to like…be my girlfriend?” you were so happy you thought you could explode. when you didn’t respond within a couple seconds, she quickly added “and totally not to like, rush you or anything, i was just won-”

you quickly shut her up by pressing your lips to hers. when you pulled away, you said “towa, oh my god, yes.”

her cheeks were softly tinted red as she fell back on the blanket. “okay! good, i thought you’d say yes, i just wasn’t sure-”

you quickly leaned down to kiss her again. “you ramble when you’re nervous,” you teased with a smile.

“shut up.”

#Spotify #oh we are so back #ty ava for the indiana jones part 🙏🏻#also a good majority of this was written while walking on my school’s track and in class #anyway happy to be back missed you queens #towa bird #towa bird x reader #fluff #reader insert #wlw #rpf #real person fanfiction

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qilingxiong · 6 months ago

Text

Cheng Yi for Cosmopolitan, July 2024

在电影氛围里@成毅有太多细微情绪的表达，很多画面我都想更多记录，拍着越走越近，好片太多真的难以取舍。

"In this movie atmosphere, Cheng Yi had so many subtle emotions to convey. There were a lot of frames I wanted to capture more of, shooting closer and closer to him. It was truly hard to choose from so many good shots."

— Liu Zongyuan, photographer (x)

这次视频也超爱❤️成毅短时间内给大家即兴演了一段戏😎

"I really love this video as well ❤️ In just a short amount of time, Cheng Yi improvised a performance for us 😎"

— Yi Yan, Visual Supervisor (x)

之前带爸妈追过《莲花楼》，发现成毅是一个眼神、动作能带人入戏的好演员。这次拍摄也跟柳大师商量一致，觉得在电影的氛围里，更能发挥他演员的特质，也更有魅力。

拍摄现场，他很安静，也很乖，让干嘛就干嘛，每个场景跟他说一下大概情节和想要的情绪，马上能给到位。

拍到最后，他默默给全场工作人员点了冰淇淋蛋糕🍰

喜欢这种安静，却心有一片海的人。

由于太出片，每套衣服其实都没拍多久，但每张都好看，特别是风衣那套，简直就是侦探本人。选片纠结，最后跟柳大师商议用拼图的方式，像电影剧照一样呈现。

希望大家喜欢这次电影氛围里的成毅❤️

"Before, I had gotten my parents to watch Mysterious Lotus Casebook with me, and discovered that Cheng Yi was a great actor whose gaze and movements could draw people into a scene. When it came to shooting this time, I discussed with Liu-laoshi. We both agreed that a movie atmosphere would leave more room for the special qualities of Cheng Yi's acting, and bring about a greater sense of charm.

On set, Cheng Yi was very quiet, and very well-behaved. Whatever we needed him to do, he would do it. For each scene, we would tell him the broad strokes of a story and the emotions we wanted, and he would be in position immediately.

At the end of shooting, he quietly ordered ice cream cake for everyone working 🍰

I like this kind of person, who is quiet, but really has a sea in their heart.

Because we had so many shots to cover, we actually only photographed each look for a brief amount of time. But every one looked good, especially the outfit with the trenchcoat. It simply was as though he was a real detective. When choosing shots to weave together, in the end Liu-laoshi and I talked and settled on a jigsaw puzzle kind of style, presenting them like movie stills.

I hope everyone will like this version of Cheng Yi, immersed in a movie atmosphere ❤️"

— Yi Yan, Visual Supervisor (x)

#hello have another video from the photoshoot. and some comments from the people who worked on it #cheng yi #成毅 #video #ashton originals #there was another brief comment from the fashion supervisor less directly related to cheng yi #about how she wishes she'd chosen a look for him that was a full suit/formal attire #but oh well #also cackling at him being called 乖 #ashton's translations

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purplecoffee13 · 8 months ago

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Mr Sunshine - Part Three

Summary: “Harry takes you somewhere to celebrate, and it leads to some clarifying revelations.”

Wc: 5k (I’m guessing)

Tropes: grumpy!mc x sunshine!H

Warnings: talks about being drugged, SA, trauma

A/N: Hi! I’m back😎. Here’s the new sunshine chapter and the next one will be coming soon (and will be steamy! Be prepared!)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

************************************************

On Saturday evening, at 3:34 p.m. to be exact, Harry calls you. You aren’t quite sure why you remembered the exact minute. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that you rarely ever received calls from anyone that wasn’t your family. You had never thought it to be pathetic, but knowing the exact time at which he called made you realize that maybe it was.

You stare at your phone with a frown on your face. What on earth could Harry be calling you for? Once out of your state of shock, you scramble to grab your phone and answer his call.

“Hello?” You say, in a rather confused tone. For a second you wonder if something terrible has happened. Maybe he is in the hospital!

“Guess what.” Harry says from the other side of the line in his usual chipper tone. You roll your eyes and let yourself fall back onto your bed. You guess you’re glad he isn’t dying, but what on earth could he be calling you for then? And now you had to guess it? This guy could never just cut to the chase.

“What?” You huff.

“You have to guess, otherwise it’s not fun.” He insists, a breathy chuckle escaping his throat. “So… guess!”

“The world is ending.” You reply in your staple, monotone voice, laced with a thick layer of sarcasm. A sigh sounded from the other end of the phone.

“Is there not an ounce of positivity in your entire body?”

“What?” You faked your offense, trying to get on his nerves for once. “You told me to guess.”

“But why is it that something sinister like imminent doom is the first thing that comes to your mind?” He asks, sounding genuinely puzzled about it. You fight your lips from quirking up.

“I mean, it’s bound to happen eventually.” You shrug, even though he can’t see you. “I figure, if I guessing it, one day I ought to be right.”

“I will never be asking you to guess anything ever again.”

“Smart boy.” You praise him. “Now are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Right, yes.” Harry takes a deep breathe. “I passed— the test, I mean. I got an A.”

You smile, but try your hardest not to let it show in the way you talk. “I told you you were gonna ace it, dumb ass.

“Thanks… I think?” Harry replies after a few seconds of silence born out of confusion. He chuckles ever so awkwardly, shaking his head at your unusual ways. You can’t see it of course, but he is grinning from ear to ear. You are the first one he called actually. There was no one in the world he would’ve rather told first. Not even his mom, who had been drilling him about the exam for the past weeks.

“Yeah, never doubt you teacher again.” You say sarcastically, laughing along with your friend on the line.

“I won’t, I promise.” Harry assures you. “But it’s not the only reason I called you, though.”

Your swear you feel your heart stand still for a second. An overwhelming amount of anxiety takes over your body the second the sentence falls from Harry’s mouth and you find yourself beginning to sweat.

“Oh?” Is all you manage to say.

“I am also calling to tell you that you need to be ready by eight.”

“Why?”

“We are going to celebrate of course!” Harry’s voice rings through your phone and your eyes close as you let out a little sigh and mutter an ‘oh God’.

“God won’t release you from the wrath of my grip, sunshine.” You quite literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“Now who’s being sinister?” You say, shaking your head slowly.

“Well, I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

“And the brightest.” You add cheekily.

“Sure. Be ready at 8.” Harry reminds you. You give him a small ‘yes’ as a confirmation, but before you can hang up, Harry adds: “oh, and don’t bring your ego, it won’t fit in the car.”

You let out a loud sigh in response and hang up the phone, but your cheeks are burning and your mouth hurts. Weird, your mouth never hurts. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and instantly relax those muscles. This is ridiculous. You will not be giggling over some guy.

“Stupid girl.” You murmur, pointing to your own reflection in the mirror.

But your confrontation with yourself does not quite stop you from counting down the hours until it is acceptable to get ready. You take a long shower and blow dry your hair, instead of letting it dry like you normally do. You also apply more make-up than you do on the regular. You would wear more make-up on a daily basis—you love to use it—but you have a tendency to oversleep.

Instead of the usual five to ten, it actually takes you fifteen minutes to pick out an outfit. There is a dress that has been hanging in your closet for far too long. And you really want to wear it, as this is the first time in almost a year that you have made concrete plans with a friend. The thought of it pains your stomach. God you have really isolated yourself ever since…

Oh well, that’s all changed now. You actually have a friend these days, or at least you think?

Nevertheless, you spend ten of the fifteen minutes wondering if the dress is not too much (it is the most casual dress you have hanging in your closet), and then you spend the remaining five actually putting the piece of clothing on your body.

It is 7:30pm by the time you give yourself one last look in the mirror. You put on a comfortable pair of high boots and wait on the couch until Harry arrives. You sent him your address after the call, and so far you haven’t gotten any messages about him being lost, so you think he’s good.

Sure enough, at 8:00pm on the dot, the bell rings. You force yourself to slowly walk to your door—you have no idea why—and take a breath before you open it up.

Upon opening the door, you are met with Harry’s wide smile—which he always wears. His hands are in his pocket and you watch his mouth slowly open—as if to say something—and close again before letting his eyes trail down your body. He looks quite surprised. You don’t blame him—you aren’t often in clothes like these.

Harry himself is dressed up a bit too. Not as much, but he doesn’t need to if he wants to look good; he just kind of does. The all black outfit works for him. The short sleeved dress shirt and the pants go perfectly together, as do the boots and belt he paired them with. You’re almost jealous of him for making such a simple outfit look so fabulous.

“You look…” Harry says, then trails off while he does a weak attempt at trying to find your eyes again. You are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, how can that be? “Wow.”

“Wow?” You echo.

“Unexpected.”

“I look unexpected?” The corner of your mouth lifts but you hold it as best as you can.

“No— I mean yes— wait…” He frown, as lost in his words as you are, and thinks for a second before offering his final answer. “Yes, you look unexpected.”

“In a way that makes me want to say ‘thank you’ or throw the door in your face?” You tilt your head ever so slightly. Harry chuckles and shakes his head.

“I just mean to say that you always look good, and tonight you look good in an unexpected way.” You notice his cheeks turning a bit pink, and in turn so do your own. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to refrain yourself from giggling like a fucking idiot.

“Well, thank you, then.” You say. Harry murmurs a ‘your welcome’ and nods his head to the car before taking a few steps back, signaling you walk with him. You close your front door, lock it, and follow him to his car. He opens the door for you, and upon entering the car you don’t forget to tell him that he’s an ‘idiot’, but your heart flutters anyway.

Harry is mysteriously vague about where he’s planning on taking you, and he doesn’t say anything other than ‘you’ll see’ the entire drive. Your stomach drops when you finally do see.

You are parked in front of the frat house that was throwing a party tonight. You were already confused as to why you guys were driving through campus, but now you know why; it’s the quickest way to get there.

Your terror filled stare finds Harry’s face, who wears some sort of a pride filled smirk, but it fades a bit at the sight of you. You are starting to freak out. What the hell does he think he’s doing?

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says in a soft voice, but you just shake your head. Instead of saying anything else, he steps out of the car and walks to the door on your side, opening it for you. He holds out his hand, and despite the slight panic that has been ringing through your body, you take it. Harry leads you to the trunk of the car. He lets go of your hand to open it, and when he does, you’re met with three cool-boxes, all lined up in a row. When he takes off all the lids, you see what is inside.

Every cool-box has different drinks in them. The far left one has got water, sparkling water, and water with different tastes to it. The middle one has all kinds of sodas, and the one on the right is filled with juices and smoothies. Apple juice, orange juice, a mango and banana smoothie… you name it.

Your mouth hangs slightly open, taking in the view of the trunk. You want to form a full sentence but your mind can’t comprehend much right now.

“What…” You begin to say, but your mind trails off.

“You said you don’t drink at parties, at all.” Harry turns his body towards you, despite the fact that you are still staring at the cool-boxes. “I don’t know why that is—and you don’t have to tell me—but I assumed it had something to do with a bad experience. Anyway— I thought this was the perfect solution. This way we can stay hydrated and nothing can happen to the drinks because the car is locked. You can keep the car key in your purse if that makes you more comfortable.”

You don’t say anything, just stare at him with wide eyes. Harry isn’t quite certain what your take on the matter is, and it is starting to make him doubt his decisions.

“I— I’m sorry if this crosses a line. I just really wanted to bring you along and meet my friends.” He scratches the back of his neck as a nervous tic. His jaw is clenched the entire time as he looks back into your eyes. Your gaze is terrifying to him, in spite of it seeming softer than normal.

“Thank you, dork.” You say after finally being able to gather your breath. It makes you realize that you are utterly screwed. You like Harry. As more than a friend? Maybe? You don’t know, you haven’t experienced something like that before, but you know that your connection with Harry runs deeper than you had planned.

“My pleasure, sunshine.” Harry responds, and his dimples start to show. Your head turns back to the cool-boxes, hoping Harry can’t see the blood that has rushed to your cheeks. You start eyeing all the drinks, but settle on water in the end.

“Can I?” You ask ever so hesitantly. Harry gets all fuzzy the second you ask the question, and happily nods. He watches with a big smile as you reach for the water and open up the bottle, sitting against the trunk as you take a few sips.

There is no exchange of words between the two of you, only glances. But those tell you a thousand things, though. He seems to be pleased, and your eyes tell him that you are too. In a burst of spontaneity—and something else that you are not sure of what it is—you begin to confess.

“Uhm, in my first year, I went to this party at a frat house, and someone spiked my drink.” You say, and Harry’s head flies to you. He is frowning. You aren’t sure whether that is just him concentrating or actually being shocked by your statement. You decide to take your eyes off him and keep looking straightforward. “I was unconscious and then when I woke up, I was lying on a bed with this random guy over me…”

Harry’s hand is balled up into a fist, initially because of the nervousness, but now he’s hurting himself with how hard his nails press into his palm. He never really gets angry, but these are situations in which he just can’t hide his pure unfiltered rage.

“But I did scream, a—and I said no. But it was a bit slurred, I think.” You say with wide eyes, still staring into the distance. You always quick to defend yourself on this topic, even though Harry hasn’t uttered a word yet. It is kind of preventive, you assume. That way no one can ask you what you did ‘to stop it’ and you won’t have to break out in tears, because questions like those form a lump in your throat that you fear will never go away.

“He should have never gotten alone with you in the first place, sunshine. He’s the one at fault here, not you.” Harry assures you, and your gaze automatically searches for his. It doesn’t feel quite as scary anymore to look him in the eyes. You suppose it always has felt safe.

“And he is also a dead man walking, if I ever find him.”

Your eyebrows raise at his aggressive comment. Harry had never talked about anything remotely resembling to violence. It truly catches you off guard, but it also makes your heart warm to see that he is so adamant about defending you.

“Anyway…” you trail off, hoping to calm him down a bit with the positive end to your story. “two girls in the hallway heard me and they got him off me. My roommate at the time brought me to the ER, and after that I went home.”

You temporarily pause when you hear the sigh that comes from Harry’s mouth. It doesn’t sound bored or rude, rather tired. Like he feels the weight of the burden you have carried on your shoulder for so long. Besides your parents and your former roommate, no one knows this story.

“After that, I didn’t really want to drink or go anywhere anymore. Eventually I got over my fear of going to social events, but I still don’t want to drink anything. Maybe it’s paranoid, I don’t know.” You shrug, massaging your neck a bit, mainly out of awkwardness.

“It’s not paranoia’, it’s trauma.” Harry bents down to meet your eye level, making sure you see him when he says the reassuring words. The logical part of your brain knew that, but sometimes you would get frustrated. You hated how long you had let this experience rule your life for the past three years, and quite frankly you were embarrassed about it.

You felt like getting drugged that night shattered what you thought you knew about yourself, and still do. You don’t trust yourself like you did before. That night was the ultimate example of your incompetence; it showed you that you couldn’t be trusted with yourself. It took years of therapy to mend that broken view, and the destructive thinking pattern would re-enter your brain at times.

“I don’t have many friends, none actually; my past experiences made it a bit tricky.” You blurt out, and turn red when you see Harry smile at you with his furrowed brows. “I mean— what I’m trying to say is: thank you.”

“For what?” He nudges you in your waist. You shake your head at him, a faint smirk lingering on your lips from his teasing touch.

“For being a friend.” You say, and Harry’s mouth falls open.

“Did you just refer to me as a friend?!” He gasps dramatically, leaning into you as the sentence leaves his mouth. You close your eyes and let your head fall back.

“Oh god.” You mutter tiredly. Here we go.

“Can you say that again? I want to record this.” He whips out his phone and you put your hands over your face as you let out a groan.

“You know you’re basically saying you love me more than anyone else in the world right now.” He begins to annoy you, knowing damn well what he is doing. You refuse to answer him, not wanting to play into these antics of his. “I’m interpreting your silence as a yes, by the way.”

“You know what? I’m gonna walk home.” You push yourself off the trunk. You want to walk away a few steps for dramatic effect, and like you expected, Harry puts a stop to his teasing. You don’t expect him to pull you back by your waist and turn you around towards him, though. It catches you off guard and you can’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He says, voice rougher than just a few seconds ago. Your hands are still on his chest from trying to catch yourself when he spun you towards him. The proximity of it all slowly starts to get to you, and suddenly you’re aware of how good Harry smells. He always smells good, but right now it is causing a physical reaction from you. You feel yourself start to get hot, as if the temperature just rose a couple degrees.

“Let’s go inside.”

And so you do. Harry grabs your hand like it’s no big deal, and you spend the short walk to the frat house trying to convince yourself of the same. Once inside, you stay a bit closer behind Harry, holding his bicep with your free hand as he leads you through the house.

What you don’t know is that Harry is freaking out inside at how you are touching him. He can’t believe it; you are here with him and you’re holding him like he’s yours. Even though he’s not, but he is enjoying the idea for now.

You enter the backyard, and it is full of people you have seen on campus or in class. Most people don’t bat an eye at you; they are mainly focused on Harry. A few look a bit confused at the sight of Harry with a girl, but you try your best not to overthink it all. You both finally arrive at where Harry’s friends are standing, and he is quick to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. The girl who saved my life this term.” He says proudly, and he catches his friends looking at him knowingly. They’re probably going to be a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hopes maybe it’ll make you realize that he likes you as more than just a friend.

You smile and let go of Harry’s hand when you see two of his friends glance at it. You lean closer and greet each friend individually with a handshake. The last one, Mikey, offers you a drink and you kindly refuse. So far, it’s going great.

“How come we haven’t seen you at parties before, Y/N?” Another friend of Harry asks. You fiddle with your hands a bit, nervous because you haven’t met this many people at the same time in a long time, and you haven’t cared what this many people thought about you in a long time either.

“Uhm, not really my scene, I guess.” You answer with an awkward smile. Harry’s friends ask you some more questions and you answer all of them, even cracking a joke here and there in between. It is nerve racking, especially since you are talking so much.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” One of the girls in the group—Dina, if you remember correctly—suddenly asks. You are glad that the group has divided into small sections a bit, and only another girl and guy will hear your answer.

Harry is chatting with his friends left from him, but once that one question leaves Dina’s mouth he checks out of the conversation. He knows the answer, of course, but he still wants to hear what you have to say.

“Nope.” You shake your head, and Dina nods.

“No one on the horizon?” She asks again, excessively glancing from Harry to you. The two others start to giggle and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Before you can respond, Dina continues talking in a slightly louder tone. “Because if not, I have a friend of mine I can set you up with. He is great! He’s somewhere around here actually, I could introduce you if you want?”

You suddenly feel a hand snake around your waist, and you already recognize who it is before you have proper time to process it. You worry about that; is it bad to be so familiar to ones’ touch?

“D’ya want to get a drink?” Harry asks, a bit more serious than you’re used to. You nod and excuse yourself from the conversation before letting Harry lead you to his car. His hand on the small of your back makes you have to restrain yourself from melting into a puddle.

You arrive at the car and wait for Harry to open the trunk. To your surprise, he lifts you up and seats you on it, before grabbing your already opened water bottle and taking off the cap. You take it from his hands and take a few big gulps, trying not to sweat profusely at the way he is looking at you, so concentrated.

“Having fun?” Harry asks you, and you look at him, nodding your head.

“Yes, you have nice friends.” You reply, your voice a bit breathy when you realize that his left hand hasn’t left your waist.

“You feeling good then?” He asks, tilting his head ever so slightly, and for a moment you feel like all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs. He raises his brows a bit when you don’t respond to him—instead staring at him as if in a bit of a trance—and you have to regain yourself, nodding profusely.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” You confirm again. He grins at that. You feel like you could be set on fire any second now. You hate yourself for the way you get when he’s so close like this. You haven’t really experienced this before with him, not with anyone actually.

“One of them already tried to set me up with some guy.” You say, hoping it would throw him off and grant you a little bit of space, but instead he comes closer.

“I heard.” Harry murmurs, eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, calculating your every reaction in case he gets any indication that you are not comfortable. But there isn’t, because you aren’t.

“Do you think that would be a good idea?” You ask in what could almost be classified as a whisper.

“Do you?” He touches your nose with his, and there is only millimeters left between your mouths. Your eyebrows furrow at the little gap there is left. You lean forward to press your lips against Harry’s but he pulls back ever so slightly, tutting you. Before you can even stop yourself, you let out the smallest whine that could almost be passed for a huff. Harry just smirks and leans in a bit closer again, brushing your lips over his. “Well…?”

“No.” You breathe out and push your lips against his, your hand around his neck, as if it would keep him even closer than he already is.

The weeks and weeks of tension between you fades away with every second that you kiss him. The way Harry’s hands have got a hold of your hips drives you absolutely crazy and you don’t think you have ever wanted something like you want him. It’s the first time your body takes over your brain and it suddenly makes sense; why people do stupid things for love.

If your crush on Harry—or however you want to define your feelings for him—already has you clamping against him as if his touch keeps you alive, you couldn’t imagine what a fool like you in love would do. But if this only feels half as good as the real thing, you aren’t so opposed to finding out.

Harry deepens the kiss and moves one of his hands to hold your face with it, and you become even more intertwined than before. Every sense of yours is occupied with him, and vice versa. Harry feels like he might have died and gone to heaven. Either that, or you are a fallen angel that he was lucky enough to encounter.

The sound of people cheering and a couple of honks breaks the both of you out of the spell you’re under. Upon pulling out from the kiss, you see the pick-up truck with all the people on it drive by as they cheer you on. And suddenly the realization hits you: you were making out with Harry in the middle of the street!

“Y/N… I—” Harry tries to get a word in but you don’t let him, because the sound of him addressing you by your name freaks you out.

“We should get back to the party.” You blurt out, trying to walk back towards the house.

“Y/N!”

You freeze at Harry’s urgent tone of voice, and the volume of it too. He has never sounded so stern before. You slowly turn around, terrified of what he’s going to say. Or maybe you are terrified because there is something you want him to say.

“We should talk about this, sunshine.”

You feel your insides twist. There is a happy surge that is waiting to make it to your brain, but that godawful, dreadful feeling gets the best of you; fear. A fear that overflows any happiness about resolving whatever is going on between the two of you. A fear that maybe this is all a game, and you can’t trust him like you want to, because you haven’t trusted yourself again from the moment you got drugged. So, instead telling Harry how you truly feel about all of this, you just shake your head in disbelief.

“I can’t do this.” You sigh a hopeless sigh, hands on your hips. You stare at the ground; there isn’t a realistic possibility in which you could look into his eyes right now.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks, and you respond with a nod. Harry shuts the trunk before walking over to the driver’s seat.

The second you step into the car, it falls silent between the two of you. You sit with your knees away from Harry, body towards the window. You listen to the radio music that is vaguely playing in the background.

Harry always puts on his own playlist, but he felt that wasn’t very fitting right now, so he just left the radio on. He tries to avoid giving into the heavy pit in his stomach, but it grows with every intersection and stoplight where once again nothing is said. It irks him that you are so silent and he would throw himself out the window if this is it. If he’s blown his chance.

Harry stops right in front of your apartment complex. You don’t even realize at first, and when you do, you feel your own body almost trying to keep you in the vehicle, urging your stupid mouth to open up to him, but you don’t. Harry does instead.

“I like you.” He blurts out before he even knows what he is doing. He feels his cheeks getting red as the sentence leaves his mouth. You freeze, and slowly turn to Harry, unsure what to make of his words.

“I like you, sunshine. As more than a friend, or a tutor, or whatever you want to call it. I have had a crush on you ever since that first project we did together.” He sighs, feeling like a big weight has already been lifted off his chest. “I’m not going to waste time by being vague or playing hard to get. So I’m telling you: I like you. You can do whatever you want the information, it’s up to you. I just needed you to know.”

You stare blankly at Harry. He feels himself getting nervous again. Did he forget to add something? No… right?

“S— so, that’s all. Have a good night, Y/N.” He adds on, looking away from her confrontational eyes and focusing on the empty road in front of him instead.

A scoff. A scoff leaves your mouth as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. Harry’s heart drops; he messed this up. How did he ever think you liked him? He knew you were way out of his league. Why did he even try—

“No, you know what—” the car door slams shut and Harry looks to his right to see you sitting next to him again. Your face is on scary mode and he is quite intimidated by it, to say the least. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to give me coffee, and touch me and kiss me and make me all confused, and— this! And why are you suddenly calling me by my name?! You can’t just— do that!”

The faintest hint of a smirk appears on Harry’s face. He can’t think of anything else but how beautiful you look right now. That pouty, confusion filled angry face you have on.

“You’d rather have me call you sunshine?”

“That— That’s not what I meant— You are so annoying, you know that?!”

“Then what do you mean, sunshine?” Harry asks, tilting his head a bit. He is being a bit cocky; he likes seeing you struggle with this, but trying to communicate anyway. He’s proud of you. He feels like he knows you better than you think and he is aware that this is not easy at all for you.

“You— you just barge into my life with those caramel macchiato’s and flip everything I know upside down. And giving me that… nagging feeling. All the time!” You keep ranting, unaware of how amused Harry is because of it.

“Sunshine… are you trying to tell me that you like me back?” He wonders carefully. It is hurting his lips trying to fight them from forming into a smile.

“What?” You ask breathily, as if he’s caught on to you. Harry bites the inside of his lip and leans forward. There it is again, that nagging feeling.

His eyes trace down to your body and he carefully placed on of his hands on your stomach, then he looks back at you. He is almost as close as how he was before you two kissed, and your body immediately feels like it’s on fire again.

“That nagging feeling, do you feel it there? In your belly?” He asks you softly, and you could melt from just his words. You say nothing, do nothing. You just clench your jaw, unwilling to give into him. The reason why you are defying this is becoming vaguer and vaguer by the second, though…

“Because I do. I feel it all the time. Whenever you’re close, whenever you enter my mind. I’ve never longed for a stomach ache so bad in my entire life.” He explains to you, and your mind feels so clouded. You know exactly what he means.

“I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t trust this. But please, let me in. I wouldn’t think of letting you down. Ever.” Harry pleads, and your eyes flutter shut.

All you can smell now is his perfume ans all you can feel is him even though he’s not touching you all around. You lean forward, forehead against his. You both stay like that for a second or two, but when you open your eyes and his lips are the first thing you see…

You break.

Within seconds, your lips are back on his and you just know it was the right thing to do. There is nothing you love more than being close to him right now, and you are really relishing in the fact that that seems to have overshadowed your fears.

Your hands finds its way to his neck while one of his cups your jaw, keeping the both of you steady. There is so much passion in the kiss, and it feels so satisfying. It is why it’s almost impossible to pull away from him, but you do anyway.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, out of breath. Harry’s mouth breaks into a wide smile as he nods.

“Yes, please.”

…

TO BE CONTINUED

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #one shot #excerpt #fluff #confession #love #grumpy #sunshine #grumpy sunshine

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mandiemegatron · 1 year ago

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ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇꜱꜱ

Trafalgar Law x Y/N ficlet

Fluff, general care, hella smooching, slightly toasty 👀, hand massage, Law being a softie✨️💖

A/N: Something I thought up after seeing @kittycatzuka post here, it gave me the feels and this is what my brain thought up.

I hope you all enjoy! ✨️💖

Also, I just spent like an hour beta-ing it so if you see any mistakes, no you don't. 😎 okay love you my lil tangerines! ✨️💖

Header by @baka-tsuki / @baka-tsuki-2 💖

It was supposed to be a quiet night for the captain. All the man wanted to do was finish his paperwork, read some Sora and pass out into a restless sleep.

Since Y/N showed up, it never seemed to work out the way Law wanted. Every night, she'd knock on his office door to say goodnight, no matter the amount of times he tried to tell her she didn't have to, that she could just simply go to bed and he'd see her in the morning for breakfast. It never deterred her, her smiling face always popping in through the cracked door with a small wave.

This night was different.

Law glanced over at the clock on his desk, frowning to himself as he realized you were late, not showing up around the time you usually did. He then paused, curiously irritated at realizing the fact that he was worried, immediately thinking the worst had happened you.

He let his pen drop to the desk as his other hand ran through his hair, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. God, he was exhausted.

There was a soft thunk as ceramic hit his desk, his eyes snapping open to see you placing a fresh cup of tea right above his incomplete paperwork.

"Y/N-ya."

You cracked a tired smile of your own before hiding a yawn behind your now free hand, lifting your mug in a silent cheers to him as you sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"Saw your light was on, thought maybe you could use a little something," your voice was soft as you spoke, unable to hide how tired you were from his prying eyes.

"While I appreciate it, you should be in bed already. We have a big day tomorrow," he replied, gently picking up the hot mug with a sigh through his nose. Yeah, he definitely needed this.

"So should you, dear Captain."

He huffed gently, staring you down before taking a long sip.

"I'm not done my job for the day."

You cracked a grin at the sight of him complaining, his distaste for the job showing itself very clearly.

"I can give you a hand, if that'll help?"

He hummed in disagreement into the mug, taking another sip before replying,

"You'd only make it take longer."

While there was teasing in his tone, you couldn't hide the way your grin slowly slid from your lips, your eyes glancing down at the mug in your hands. He kicked himself as a pain clutched around his chest, hating that he made you look that way.

"... I appreciate the offer, Y/N, thank you. Your company helps more than enough."

Your eyes flickered back to his at his words, your cheeks tinting pink as you murmured,

"... glad to help."

It was only for a moment but it felt like ages, the way his eyes bored into yours. It was like you were a puzzle he was trying to slove and couldn't, his frustration showing in his gaze. Your heart jumped into your throat, your mind screaming at him to just kiss you, to say something, to tell you everything you wanted him to say-

The moment broke as he went back to his scribbling, one hand around his mug while the other scratched away. You made yourself more comfortable in the large chair, your eyes wandering his face, not knowing he could feel your very hungry gaze on him.

Pride washed over him, his ego flaring as a smirk ticked up his lips. He did have a feeling you liked him, but this moment here proved to him that he was right.

"See something you like, Y/N?"

There was a heavy silence as your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond so you remained quiet, simply watching him for any signs of a joking manner.

You were incredibly confused when you could only sense a serious air around him.

It took a moment to gather courage but you did finally respond, looking down at your mug for a moment before glancing back to him as you commented lightly,

"Surely it's obvious that I do."

The air was so thick it could have been sliced with a butterknife. You both stared at each other for what felt like ages before you looked away first, unable to handle the heat of his gaze on you like this.

"... good to know."

His response caused you to grin, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you bit back a happy sound, not wanting to feed his already giant ego. A more comfortable silence covered you both as he went back to his work, now motivated to finish it quicker than before.

You'd drank your entire tea by the time he finally finished. You'd been slouched lazily in the chair, glancing around his office with mildly bored eyes, having already taken everything in to the point you could name off each book and it's order on the shelf. He yawned loudly, rubbing his face with both hands before standing, placing his completed work off to the side before coming around his desk to stand by you, leaning on it for support.

"You should get some rest," you started, giving a yawn of your own and going to move before you noticed him massaging his hand. You looked up at him, his exhausted expression filling your chest with a ache you didn't enjoy.

You had to do something.

Placing the empty mug beside him, you then reached out and gently took his writing hand into your own warm palms, you began massaging his own, your thumbs pressing down to the point where he grunted softly.

"Yeah, I know it sucks but this is what happens when you don't take proper breaks," you murmured, focusing on doing your best not to look up at him, your cheeks burning so hot that you began to worry you gave yourself a fever.

A particularly illicit groan left your Captain when you pressed at one point, your eyes finally flicking up at him for just a moment and you couldn't help but smile at seeing his relaxed expression. His eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling as he took slow, deep breaths.

Your heart clenched - you wished he looked like this more, so quiet and tender -

Your thoughts stopped as you looked back to his hand, your thumbs working down to his wrist and forearm, not noticing him leaning closer to you to give you better reach.

It took only a few minutes, letting his arm gently drop to his side as you held your hands palm up out for his other one.

"Other hand, please!"

He was silent the entire time, lifting his hand to you as you did the same thing, starting at his palm before going to his long fingers, showing them love and stretching them before moving down to his wrist and forearm.

You were so focused that you didn't noticed his free hand coming catch your chin, his long fingers lifting your face gently. Your eyes met and your stomach churned, knowing your face was still bright red as he looked over your face. Your fingers had stopped, clamped gently around his forearm.

You couldn't place the look he was giving you, trying to convince yourself that he was not giving you bedroom eyes - the man was exhausted, for fucks sake! But you couldn't help how your body warmed at his touch, wanting so desperately to lean into his touch.

The sudden fear of rejection hit you like a ton of bricks. You must have made a face because his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, almost as if trying to comfort you.

"You look worried," he breathed out, his breath so warm and so close that it danced across your face. Your eyes were locked in an intense gaze, his dark and craving; yours wide and needy in your own right. Warmth pooled in your lower region as his eyes looked down at your lips for a moment, the air suddenly heavy once again as his gaze met yours again.

"I... I am worried," you finally whispered, eyes never leaving his. He moved closer again, so slowly that it felt like he was teasing you.

"Why?"

Not a question, a demand.

"... because I'm scared that you'll kiss me and I'll get attached."

A slow, wicked grin came over his features when you finally spoke.

"As if you're not already attached."

His words felt like a punch to your gut, causing you to gasp out softly before his lips consumed yours, both your eyes falling shut as he took what he wanted. It wasn't a soft kiss, but it wasn't demanding either. It held just enough emotion that you felt the anxiety of earlier wash off you like a wave, your shoulders unconsciously dropping though your hands remained on his arm.

When he finally pulled away, you were a mess. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears, it felt like vertigo. Your eyes slowly reopened, confusion and hope written across your face like an open book as you stared at him. You were nearly breathless as you somehow got out,

"Um... Wow."

Law blinked a few times before he broke down, laughing so loud and hysterically that he pulled away from you, leaning over with his hands on his knees. You sat there blinking, feeling even more confused, wondering what the hell was going on. His laughter echoed in the room, and probably the entire sub but clearly he was gone, absolutely fucked up.

Just straight up bonkers.

When he finally calmed, one hand came up to wipe away the laughter tears as he leaned back up, a wide smile on his face as he took a moment to collect himself.

He finally looked down at you, your own almost nervous smile etched into your face as you waited for him to explain himself.

"You, Y/N-ya, are something else, you know? How you've flipped my life upside down."

The amount of sincerity in his voice immediately made you begin to tear up, you're heart leaping from your chest into your throat and stopping you from responding. You simply gave your own genuine smile in return, one hand quickly wiping away the few tears that slipped out.

A heavy hand landed on the top of your head, long fingers rustling your hair as Law gave another chuckle. Your smile remained as your swiped at his hand, his own grin turning cheeky as he lightly slapped your hand away.

There was a pause between you two, with him running a tired hand through his hair as you rubbed at your face, biting back a yawn. As he took in your exhausted form, he knew it was time for you both to hit the hay.

"You crazy brat. Go to bed," he started, moving his hands to grasp your own and pulling you out of the chair. He turned you and walked you to the door just a few feet away, opening it but holding you to him, his hands on your shoulders. You noted they were shaking slightly through hazy thoughts as his warm chest hit your back.

"I'll see you at breakfast. Save me a seat?"

His breath brushed over your ear, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. He didn't give you enough time to respond, giving you a quick shove out the door before closing it behind you.

You stared at the wall of the Tang, blinking a few times before your mouth finally started working again.

"What the actual fuck just happened?"

A/N: HEHEHEE we love a sly, flirty Law 🙈🙈🙈🙈 I'm gunna smooch him so hard, idk abt you guys 😂😂🥵🥵🙈🙈 I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did !

Smooch smooch, be good my lil tangerines! 🍊💋

#mandies mumbles ; fanfics #ok to rb #trafalagar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece #one piece fluff #we love a soft silly law in this house ! 💖#thank you sm zuka youre the best !!

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ghostgirl101 · 2 months ago

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HII I love your posts and I have a question it's okay if you don't wanna answer or if your busy! A while ago I think you wrote about the green haired BEN what's its name..... Behavioral event network! And you wrote about "how dating BEN would be like" so I wanted to ask, what type of person we they be attracted to? Like in terms of personality? Like someone soft, strongwilled, Shy, energetic I have been trying to think of what type of person they would all like. Would they like someone kind?

YOUR AWESOME AND DONT OVERWORK YOURSELF!!! 💓💓💓💕💕💕💕💓 🫶🏻🫶🏻 *Hugs virtually*

I did indeed 😎 sorry for the late response lol

I don't really think it would matter personality-wise who you are, because whatever you are is a mystery, a game, a puzzle they'll be ripping apart and piecing back together as soon as they find you, to bring out the best and worst with you (possibly drive you insane)

But if you want any semblance of stability and proper closeness, I think BEN's partner would need to be able to stomach it and take in all the dark arg and backstory of Hubris and what's really in the game instead of breaking down and being very sensitive and freaked out to the max over it 😵

There'd be more of a balance if you were a kinder person who feels empathy for how it all happened and the victims of the cult/science experiment, compared to the sadistic spawn that is BEN, but if you're not and you're more like him.. you probably won't have a problem, just some really twistedly weird glitchy version of the Joker and Harley 🙃

If you're not an easy victim then you've got a better chance than most - if you're able to deal with it all how you will and give it time to develop into something where they reveal their story to you and you get into some kind of relationship, then you're all good. If you're more easily breakable and freaked out..

..you'll get there eventually.

#behavioural event network #ben drowned arg #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned creepypasta #ben drowned x you #ben drowned x y/n #jadusable arg #behavioral event network #jadusable

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nolan-chance-fortnite · 2 months ago

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CHANCETASTIC LORE DROP

Do you make your bed? Most of times! Sometimes I rush out of bed and I forget!

Favorite number? One, cause I'm the number one, baby!!

What’s your job? Heist mastermind is currently in charge of taking care of himself! //unemployed//

If you could go back to school, would you? Haha HECK NO! The best school is school of life! I've learned so much in the streets!

Can you parallel park? Y'know I have a getaway driver right? Well, still, I'm a reckless driver and of course I can parallel park!

Do you think aliens are real? Man, after all the things I've seen, of course aliens are real! Human Bill thinks aliens don't exist but... Man, they're out there I know!

Can you drive a manual car? Yessir! I can drive cars, motorcycles, trucks, every vehicle! Except planes and flying stuff.

What’s your guilty pleasure? Rest under a shade eating a whole box of raspberries. Man, I love raspberries!

Tattoos? Nah nah, but I might get one someday! Perhaps the name of my loved one? Haha! Who knows!?

Favorite color? Mmm kind of hard... I like teal but... Probably that one! Or white, or orange!

Do you like puzzles? Oh yeah, I love puzzles and whatever keeps my mind working!

Any phobias? Heist Mastermind Nolan Chance has no phobias! //but he's scared of meeting his snapshots//

Favorite childhood sport? Ive never been a sports guy! But I enjoyed running! Uhmmm... Athletics?

Do you talk to yourself? All the time! It's always nice having the opinion of an expert in everything!! 😎

I tag @ask-kado-thorne @officialjohnjones @heroic-hope @askdoctordoom @fortnitegoddess @guernseythecow @chrome-punk-fn @xxskull-trooperxx @valeria-fortnite @lord-of-the-wasteland @pinki3fortnite AND if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged by Heist Mastermind Nolan Chance! HAHA!

// I was tagged in this thing on my main and I thought it would be nice to bring it to the Fortnite tumblrverse! Feel free to do it, to ignore it, be free! (?) Sorry if I didn't tag you, can't remeber everyone's urls BUT that's the point, tagging others (?) Just for fun :p //

#nolan posting #fortnite tumblrverse #Lore drop

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yourgirlniki · 10 months ago

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Jackie and Wilson

"For whatever poor soul is coming next"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

3k words

Tags!: No use of y/n, fluff, down bad Johnny MacTavish, not completely canon accurate Soap, first fic! 😎👍

A/N: This is based on Hozier's song Jackie and Wilson - I'm thinking I want this to be the beginning of a collection of one-shots based on his songs, depending on my free time! But again, first fic so please any comments would be greatly appreciated! Was nervous to post but ya only live once Hope you enjoy!

The cushion on the back of the booth wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. The deep red bump didn’t do much to help an aching back, more of a thing that somewhat fixed the posture of those who sat at it. But who goes to a bar for comfort anyway? Dingy bars aren’t the first place most people would think to go back to after nearly dying halfway across the world.

The sticky floors, the mesh of posters and old mementos hanging on the brick walls. The neon lights, the potent smell- its headache inducing and you don't even have a hangover yet. And there are too many people in here, crowding pool tables and the small dance floor, (if you can even call it that), to be called someplace one would go to calm down and relax.

This is a fact that is true for most people.

But most people aren’t military. Even fewer are SAS.

And absolutely none are John MacTavish.

The man who idolizes the chaotic ways of the world above all else. That’s what has him still in the job quite frankly. The chaos, the ability to live and thrive in an insane environment. For someone like him, these things never truly bothered him. In an odd sense, the smell of alcohol, sweat and far too many bad ideas feel closer to home than he’s been in a few months. A comfort that most don't understand. But he does.

So even as exhaustion tries to take hold, the scott wears a signature giddy smile, adds a seemingly impossible pep to his step, and he drags the 141 into a back table, somehow always energetic. Even after practically wasting away in a desert for the past 3 months, he has energy. It’s honestly absurd.

Even worse is that he always finds a way for that energy to become contagious. As much as his teammates joke and grumble about it, Johnny was their way of restoration, to push forward. He would choose a shitty bar, and even shittier alcohol over a quiet apartment or the pile of paperwork that had to get done at some point. And so, the boys would too. Even if they hid it behind the facade of “babysitting” the grown man.

So now, here they sat, against the trashy cushions, with crappy music, in the dimly lit bar, with smiles and a sense of belonging. They call it a “celebration” of a mission well done, a nod to their success. Definitely not an excuse to just drink the night away, to get the mission out of their heads for a bit. To laugh with comrades and just be… domestic? Is that right? Close enough.. Yeah? Finding their small slot back into normal society.

Don’t get him wrong, Johnny loves his job. Loves what he does, but who doesn’t want to just have a drink at a bar with his mates every once and a while? And that's why he has his third beer in his hand and is snorting and a story Gaz is telling about one of his most recent hookups. A lady who was.. “Bloody crazy! I mean it. Seemed nice at first but don't be fooled, she was insane!”

Yeah, this is home. It’s where he belongs, where he wants to belong, he thinks. With his men, in the middle of nowhere chatting about anything and everything. Confiding in and teasing each other. He trusts them with his life, he can trust them to listen when need be. And yet… there is always that ache. The strange pull in moments like these like something is still missing. It’s been happening more often lately. And it's like an itch Johnny can't scratch. A puzzle piece he can't find but is still absent mindedly searching for. The only issue is he doesn't know what it is, that it just- isn't.

The chatter fades to a muffled sound in the scotts ears for a moment as he lets out a small, genuine smile looking at his group, sipping at the drink in his hand as his forearms lay themselves on the table, hands clasping. Taking a moment to truly thank whatever may be pulling the strings. Bringing him and his boys to safety. And maybe even a small prayer to tell him what the odd nagging in his brain is about. He takes a breath and relaxes, just for a moment. Looking around the bar, truly just admiring the world around him, the bustle of it all, the people with their own lives and ambitions.

How was he supposed to know that was a fatal mistake on his part?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

He found out a second to late, registered it after he knew he was done for. It was one moment, a mistake, a pause, that would stick with him for as long as it dared. It was a magnet, an invisible force that pulled his very being toward it. The moment he nearly drooled his drink out from his now slack jaw.

Because when his eyes connect with the woman walking through the door, he swears time stopped.

Suddenly, the crappy bar didn’t smell as bad, the music wasn’t too loud, the cushion no longer made his back ache, the room got brighter just from her smile. The very ground shifted, and not in the drunken haze way. He warmed up, eyes wide. A thought process that if he opened them more he would see more. God, it felt like getting a cavity by now, she felt too sweet to even look at.

In a single moment the world shattered around him, everything he knew was thrown out a window, as his mind was occupied by one thought only.

It was only a moment… but by then he knew he was fucked, utterly and completely.

Fate or destiny, call it what you may. An answered prayer, an utter coincidence. It didn’t matter. The bar turned into a museum, a place to observe and admire as his eyes widened impossibly more as his head tilted watching her move. A giggle slipped under his breath as he thought he could be mistaken for Ghost at this point, with his starring.

But your pull, it was undeniable. Even the thought of looking away would cause you to vanish in a blink, never for Johnny to see again. And he couldn’t have that. Not when it was astonishing in the way you simply were.

It only got worse as your group got closer to theirs. A mere table away. When you first walked in it was a trap, a line that was cast into his pond and he was falling for the bait. Confidence is something he is used to in his line of work, but it was usually the cocky kind. The kind that made him want to kick a recruits teeth in for. But you were something different entirely. You demand attention, even if you didn't know it. A high held head, a testament to the world that you were there, and you were aware of it. Thank god it was his attention it demanded, because it was nothing short of a miracle.

The air you lived in became breathable, spreading to his little corner of the bar as he had to remind himself to actually inhale and exhale as he took in the sight over and over again. Committing it to memory. The world became a movie, a fictional place where he wasn’t. One he could only watch and revel in. It was the type that you knew was going to be good before it even began. The one you had been anticipating for and knew wouldn’t disappoint. His heart rate picked up, the same way it would in the field, but in a much less stressful manner now. Jesus, what was happening to him? You must have cursed him. That’s it. The only explanation. Bewitched by not only the view, but the melody of your laugh flooding his ears now at the closer proximity. Leaning against a standing table with a glass in hand, head slightly tilted enough that a stray hair fell to cover your face.

It was comical the way his heart sped up, watching as you chatted with your own group. Something so normal, something you see every single day, was making the big strong man’s hard race like it life or death. And he knew life or death.

Romeo had nothing on him.

Absolutely nothing in the way his brain knew he was to be yours. It had to be, he had to be. It’s how the story will be written, and he will play his role. Stealing your hear that way you have entranced his own. He wouldn’t be able to tell you when he got up. He can’t tell you how his body moved on its own, knowing what needed to be done but not conscious enough to alert his brain.

What he can tell about how perfect it felt to so much as stand there by you. Soaking in your presence was one thing, standing in it next to you was another entirely.

And that's how he found himself face to face with you, who turned to him with a puzzled look, but a kind smile.

He was a goner.

“Oh… umm- Hello, can I help you?” Is all you had to say to him to confirm his every thought. This woman could heal every wound with her voice alone. And her eyes so much as finally looking back at him felt like he was seen for the first time in his life.

“Uhh.. sir? Are you alright?” Your voice rang out again, pulling him back to reality as you hand waved in front of his face slightly. A flattering smile on our lips and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost concerned. What came over John MacTavish in that moment is unexplainable.

“I seem to have lost my number—can I have yours?”

Her eyebrows raised. She blinks. Then tilting her head slightly.

He could die right then and there.

Leaning against the table next to her with a stupid, crooked smile and a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't just embarrassed the hell out of himself. A pick up line? That's the best you could do, John? Really? Welp, there goes every chance you had, cut your losses and- Laughter chimed in his ears like wedding bells. And that’s when he froze, every negative thought draining him as he became light. You laugh was intoxicating more than any drink or drug. The kind that was unapologetic and genuine. The kind that has the back of your palm finding your lips as you cover your giggles, nose scrunching and eyes squinting due to the smile. One that made both of you have pink cheeks for different reasons. A joke that probably shouldn't have been laughed at, but coming from the man before you, it eased the tension in the air.

It must have been the prettiest sight Johnny had ever seen.

He doesn’t know how he did it, probably because it wasn’t him at all. Must have been pure luck that after that horrible entrance she seemed kind enough to humor him that night. He bought you a drink and hung on every word you so much as muttered in his direction. You laughed at every joke, good or bad. He made it his mission to make sure he always heard that laugh from then on. To produce it from you.

Oddly enough, it turns out you were one of few words when it came to the actual conversation. And yet it was never rude, ore quiter nature. But more like you were always listening. Every word John rambled on about you picked up, asking questions or simply nodding, expressing your thoughts in your facal expression. Because of this, it seemed like he never looked away from you either, not that it was a bother, it was strangely alright. It wasn’t judgemental, only observant.

He thought he might go buy a ticket for the lottery after you agreed to give him your number by the end of the night. He was more smitten than he’s ever been, and on the dates to follow the swooning only got worse.

Every moment with you felt exhilarating, like he found that missing piece finally after a long search. And that piece loved him back He was insufferable, always gushing about the woman he has the opportunity to take out on a date. And the dates where nothing less of spectacular. The pair was stupid like teenagers in love, but more sentimental, understanding the weight of things better. Arguments never lasted long and if they did they were cleared up before any damage was done. She understood what his job ment to him, and told him she would never make him change that about himself. It was his passion, she can share.

“Just so long as you promise to come back to me.”

And from that day forth he would make a pinky promise every time he left. He was to come home. Time passed quickly, in flashes. It felt like his life went from downtime in between missions, to missions in between downtime. His heart ached for you in the days he was gone, but he always knew he would be home. He would see you again. He found a want to live, even more now that he found his world.

And as time passed them by, he found out she was perfect in the all the ways he could dream of. Especially in the impossible task of calming him down as well. Rough mission? She already had his favorite meal ready and was soothing him over. Nightmares? She was there either on the phone or more recently next to him to hold him and run her fingers through his hair. To much energy? To rowdy? You always found a way to settle him down. His anchor. And he would do the same for her if the day presented itself.

Another plus that made it all that much more, everyone liked you.It wasn’t hard too of course, but it proved even moreso how lucky he got. His family adored you, his sisters taking you in as part of the family already, much quicker than any of his other past relationships. It made him well up with pride.

Even when he officially introduced you to the 141, it was with open arms as well. If he wasnt a unit before, he absolutely was one now. Maybe just a tad bit more annoying with his bragging but of course he brags. Those boys knew how much you were doing for him, and you knew they were keeping him safe. It was a harmony that both sides respected.

A part of him knew that even if all of those people didn’t like her, (an impossible feat if he does say so himself), nothing would change for him. You were his, he was yours. Irrevocably and absolutely. If the world didn’t want them, the world wasn’t for them. Simple as that. Life became sweeter, dreamlike as he fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was almost unbelievable, no, it was unbelievable.

One day, as he was laying on the couch, laying gently on you, nearly dozing off. Then he felt your hand on his shoulder, a soft pat that made him stir but not move as he hummed in response. “Johnny?” You said, soft enough that he had to stir slightly closer to your voice. But he didn’t look up, kept his heavy eyes shut as he mumbles a small “what?”

“Earth to Johnny..” Hmm, that's odd. It mde him sit up the slightest bit more. Must have been laying on his ear wrong, your voice sounded weird. And another pat on his shoulder, a bit harder this time.

“MacTavish!”

And then he blinked. He was sitting up straight, eyes wide as he made eye contact with his Captain across from him, in the same place he left him at the bar. The bar? His cheek stung from the movement of no longer resting on… his palm? His? No that’s not right. His head hurt slightly as the smell of bar flooded his nose. What was he doing in a-

“Soap, you alright? You were out for a bit. Staren’ at nothing.” Gaz said with a smile, slightly concerned.

He looked around, baffled as he took in the same dingy bar he had met you in. In fact in the same spot exactly, same clothes, same drink. Hold on, that can't be right. His head swung back around as he took in the table next to them was, empty. Bottles and cups discarded to the side, napkins crumpled. He heard the bar door shut as his eyes flicked over and spotted the same woman walk away outside, smiling the same as she was before. Only then did it make sense.

His mind filled in the blanks for him as he rubbed his face with a groan. When something is too good to be true, it's probably because it is. Gaz was patting his back as Ghost and Price shared a look that had Price hiding a smirk. But it didn’t matter to Johnny.

What mattered was she’d already left.

The boys decided that's where the night should end, Johnny's head almost embarrassingly hung low as they paid their bill and called a car to take them back to base. This is the first time Scott has sulked in a while, running his hands through his mohawk as he kicked himself for being so stupid. Caught up in a daydream of a random woman at the bar, what a stupid fantasy to get caught in. he was practically mourning something he doesn't even have, never did have. And now something he wouldn’t have either.

The moment changed his life for sure, a memory of fake memories that will haunt his little brain every once in a while when he's bored and remembers this night.

#john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #cod #cod x reader #new fic #first fic #cod mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader

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