#like intrusive advertising | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluelockmaniac · 9 months ago

Text

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒

୨ৎ ft. itoshi sae x actress!reader (fem)

synopsis. when football star itoshi sae randomly names you as his celebrity crush, the internet goes wild with rumours. what happens when you decide to make a surprise appearance during his next interview?

notes. thanks anon for the suggestion ! the editing process took quite a while bc i had to search for so many synonyms and celebrity-dazzling-type of vocabulary, and just a bit of research & idioms, lol (like tell me why i didn't know what filmography was??).

word count. 1.7k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 first thing that grated on sae’s nerves was the endless string of interviews he had to endure after every victory. the second were the interviewers, who seemed to lack any sense of boundaries or respect of privacy all together. but the third and perhaps most exasperating thing sae loathed were the questions– particularly those who left him completely clueless.

how on earth was he supposed to provide this nosy interviewer with the name of his celebrity crush when he didn't even have one?

besides, sae’s social awareness was practically nonexistent. his mind was consumed by football– matches, practice sessions, training drills, and occasionally, thoughts of his brother. naming a celebrity was as foreign to him as the idea of reconciling with rin.

he had tried to dodge the infuriating question, really. but his attempt was thwarted by the exaggerated glare of his manager, whose expression screamed ‘make. up. any. name’.

the older itoshi sighed, eyeing the lady who had posed the stupid, intrusive question from the side. to the untrained eye, it might have appeared that he was merely stalling, which, in truth, he sort of was. but on the inside, he was actually scrambling to conjure up any random name.

then, as if the goddess of luck intervened, a blurry image of you materialized in his mind. he recalled catching a glimpse of you while riding in his personal chauffeur-driven car.

your recognizable face had adorned a massive, wide billboard advertisement. you looked too striking– too gorgeous– to forget. you were holding a rose perfume bottle next to your shoulder, smiling with such infectious brightness. luckily, his eyes had happened to drift to the bottom left corner, where your name was elegantly inscribed in cursive.

y/n l/n.

anyone familiar with the entertainment industry would no doubt recognize your name immediately. you were a standout actress in hollywood, notably known for your phenomenal acting skills and breathtaking beauty. your filmography– the number of movies you've starred in– was extensive, and your trophy shelf in your large mansion was filled to the brim with numerous awards.

“itoshi-san?” the interviewer prompted again, her pesky voice cutting through his trance as she set her coffee mug on the table. she repeated her question, “there's nothing to be embarrassed about, haha– we’ve all had celebrity crushes at some point. who’s yours?”

sae scoffed lightly, leaning back onto the couch and propping his elbow on the armrest. he hid his face behind his hand, attempting to mask his discomfort.

“y/n.” he muttered, his voice laced with forced nonchalance.

the words slipped from his lips with shame. he knew this embarrassing revelation would literally dominate the headlines by nightfall, and he could hardly brace himself. he actually felt a teeny bit of guilt for dragging you into the main focus of the public’s attention alongside him. by tomorrow morning, his phone would be buzzing with notifications about this becoming the top trending topic on social media.

heck, he could already envision the misleading headlines in the tabloids:

alleged hidden affair: football prodigy itoshi sae and actress y/n l/n rumored to be in secret relationship– what’s really going on?

the interviewer let out an exaggerated gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as she exchanged a gleeful look with the cameraman.

“d-did you get that on tape? this will certainly make the headlines!”

she turned back to sae, who was still averting his gaze awkwardly. “j-just to be sure, itoshi-san… you’re talking about y/n l/n, correct?”

sae mumbled something inaudible under his breath before finally meeting her eyes, realizing it’s better to save face than to prolong his embarrassment live on camera.

“yes, her,” he replied with a shrug, rolling his eyes. he seriously had no idea who you were, what you did, or why you were famous. “she's cute, i guess.”

the interviewer beamed, leaning in enthusiastically. “—absolutely, her beauty is nothing short of enchanting! which of her shows or movies did you enjoy the most?”

so you were an actress, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the woman. he had absolutely no clue about any of your work. resorting to his typical bluntness, he retorted,

“none of your business. shut up.” he turned his head towards his manager, who looked as if he was about to cry literal tears of joy. “this interview is over. let's go.”

a few weeks had passed, and just as sae had predicted, rumours of a secret affair between him and you had exploded across the internet. yet, they remained just that– rumours. neither of you had addressed them… perhaps because there was no need to.

sae had just secured another effortless victory and was now being chauffeured to the interview venue. as he passed the familiar billboard, his eyes wandered, searching for your eyes, only to find that your advertisement had been replaced by some no-name, cheap milk brand’s.

—

as usual, he handled the post-match questions with ease. they were always the same, tedious inquiries: “how do you feel about your performance today?”, “could you describe the pivotal moments in today's match?”, “how did teamwork play a role in the game?”, “one fan asked…”, and so on.

however, this time, the midfielder felt slightly uneasy— the camera crew seemed larger, with cameras on every angle of the room. the interviewer, the same lady from before, appeared unusually excited. her voice was squeaker and she fiddled faintly as she spoke.

finally, she asked the final question regarding the opposition team’s strategies and approaches.

“hmph. we barely broke a sweat today; their game plan was so weak and predictable it was almost laughable. we could have won with our eyes closed.”

she nodded, almost dismissively, as if she couldn’t wait to wrap up the interview and get to the next part of the show.

“incredible, exactly what we’d expect from japan’s prodigious player! now, for all our online viewers, get ready to tune into GoalTalk’s special event! tonight, we're thrilled to welcome a very special guest who will be joining us…”

sae quirked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued as he watched the crew reposition the numerous cameras to focus on the entrance door, though a few lenses remained trained on him.

“... y/n l/n!”

you stepped onto the platform as soon as your name was announced, waving to the countless cameras flashing blinding lights in your direction. you were dressed in a long, flowing burgundy gown that accentuated your curves perfectly. you exuded elegance; the very epitome of grace.

sae's eyes widened in surprise, tracking your movements as you made your way to the seat beside him.

“fucking bullshit, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he groaned, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, his adam’s apple bobbing.

you let out a soft giggle, settling beside him so that your thighs brushed against his. with a gentle tap on his shoulder, you flashed a practiced smile as he turned to look at you.

“it’s such an honour to finally meet you, itoshi! i’m actually a huge fan, so you could imagine my excitement when you mentioned i was your celebrity crush in your recent interview.”

he cringed inwardly, having heard similar compliments from noisy fangirls countless times before. besides, you were a renowned actress; for all he knew, your cheerful expressions and excitement could be part of a well-rehearsed facade.

“ah. thanks, i guess,” he shrugged, clicking his tongue before adding nonchalantly, “...you’re a good actress.”

“oh, thank you! i appreciate it.” you leaned in slightly, your smile widening, “hey, you know, i wouldn't mind giving you my number. we could maybe… figure things out?~”

“what–” his leg began to bounce subtly. perhaps it was the effect of being an actress who had participated in a multitude of romance movies and shows– such flirtatious comments tend to slip naturally from your lips.

“you wouldn’t mind, would you? you’re single, right?” you pressed, propping your chin on his shoulder.

fuck. your face was so close– so close he could understand why people called you stunning. you were infinitely more beautiful than the artificial, edited image on the billboard. your sweet scent of exotic fruit, reminiscent of a hot summer day on the beach, wafted to his nose. his eyes wandered to your cherry-stained, glossed lips, feeling a strange, inexplicable magnetic pull.

but he sighed defeatedly, feeling his manager’s intense yet pleased gaze boring into him. “i guess. don’t expect anything, though,” he dismissed, reaching up to ruffle his reddish hair. everything was alright. he just needed to get through this interview.

little did either of you know– or perhaps you had a vague idea– that social media was already ablaze with an endless amount of comments from hundreds of thousands of fans from both sides, shipping you two together.

you nudged him playfully with your elbow and turned your head, winking at the cameras as you slyly slipped your hand into his. “i’m getting his number, sorry girls.”

he felt his breath catch in his throat, his fingers remaining numb in your grasp. but suddenly, a strange surge of boldness overwhelmed his usually rational senses– he was already doomed, anyway, so why seem like a lame pushover? his hand reciprocated your grip, intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned in slightly. his lips brushed over your ear as he whispered a few, short words, eyeing one camera directly with a subtle smirk.

you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth at his words. all the cameras in the venue captured the sight of your eyes widening in surprise and the visceral nodding of your head to whatever he had just said.

his words would remain a secret to the public however, even as the internet flooded with speculations and questions, triggered by a sensational headline featuring a photo of the two of you together:

𝑯𝑶𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹? 𝑱𝑨𝑷𝑨𝑵’𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑺𝑯𝑰 𝑺𝑨𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝒀/𝑵 𝑳/𝑵 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑳 𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹, 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫!

2K notes · View notes

nyancrimew · 2 years ago

Text

the main question i have, @staff, is why the fuck do people with tumblr ad-free still see your paid promotion features for netflix (and presumably other corporations in the future), like at the very least make the tab removable for adblock users. i get that you're desparate for money, but this makes me question why spending 39 USD a year for ad free would be useful at all if the way more intrusive forms of advertising (like the goddamn fucking clown (lots more reason why that one is questionable, but i feel like thats been talked about enough by now)) are still all entirely visible and not removable without an ad-blocker, i can easily see people not renewing their ad-free subscription over shit like this, especially if u keep pulling it.

#tumblr meta #meta

5K notes · View notes

bumblebeebats · 26 days ago

Text

Funniest thing that happened to me recently was that i went to an event advertised as a 'sapphic social', and immediately upon arriving began hovering around the outskirts of the gathering with my Terminator-style HUD pulled up trying to scientifically analyze the situation and devise a plausibly-deniable excuse to weasel my way into an existing conversational group - for example, perhaps, "Is it ok if I put my bag here?" Yes, good, yes, incredibly normal, and almost impossible to be read as intrusive or presumptive or rude - until someone literally just walked up to me and said "Hi!". And i was like. oh my god. My god, it's that easy. It's a Social Event. The aim is to Be Social. You can just walk up to someone and say "Hi!", and they don't put you in jail or anything. Unbelievable

#not beating the autism allegations lads #at which point does it cease to be self-diagnosed and start to be peer reviewed

147 notes · View notes

shalpilot · 11 months ago

Text

personally if i could explode every advertisement on planet earth i would. do not speak to me. do not attempt to sway me into purchasing your product. I will not. in fact if the harder you try the more likely it is i will not be giving you any money ever. we all have to be haters about little things and my little thing is i fucking hate advertisements so fucking much what an unwelcome intrusion on my fucking life. get out of here. die

#ggp

395 notes · View notes

amazingabellini · 1 year ago

Text

Every Single Thing 621 is Called on Rubicon

Dog Augmented Human C4-621 You 621 Intruder Illegal Enemy AC Merc Corp AC Registration number Rb23 Raven Callsign: Raven Mercenary Corporate Merc Corporate Dog Interloper Military Force Hostile AC Shameless Coral scavenger Independent Mercenary Hunter Sharp A local An Independent A merc who only kills for credits A real merc G13 G13 Raven Kiddo Freelancer Maggot Fake Redgun Tagalong Sewing club member Not a total amateur Not a pro Corporate Vulture Mere pawn Scavenger Hound of Walter Competition Good for nothing Good for something Wretched vulture Unidentified AC Damn Hyena Rotten Money-grubber Corporate scum Enemy backup One of the infamous Walter's hounds Wallclimber War buddies Comrade Buddy Intruder Doser Shameless Corporate Dog Greedy Mercenary Greedy hound Daring A symbol of resolve Only Other Person That Can Keep Up With Me You Again Old Augmentation Recalcitrant Mutt Vermin Pest The Pest of Rubicon Code 15 Raven the Wallclimber Code 31C Solo Independent Mercenary Pitiful Dog Gen 4 Fine hound Another dead dog Older type of Augmented Human Tourist No ordinary tourist Smart Cookie No slouch A cut above the rest Not afraid of anything Belongs in a museum Freak My favorite little Tourist A certain someone New friend The Freelancer from the dam raid Target Walter's Hound Solo AC Independent Merc Trespasser to Rubicon Walking Advertisement Mascot AC of Unknown Affiliation Suspected Corporate Hire Single AC Code 5, Unknown AC Independent Mercenary Assembly That AC Hostile AC Priority Subject for Termination One helluva merc Hired Operative Intruding AC Grunt Famous Mercenary Fine Soldier One Loose End Corpse Quick on the uptake Not like those savages Cur Scoundrel Oathbreaker Just an AC Patchwork AC Better than the other ACs Like a bird in flight Killer Menace to Rubicon Target for Termination Unknown Intruder Intrusion Attempt Menace Volunteer The Objective Just a Gen 4 Strong Worthy of your name False Alarm Impostor Impressive Pilot Wormkiller Threat to Planetary Closure 20 Iguazus A Real Redgun Not so Special Too Dangerous to Keep Around Not Afraid to Die The Only G13 Who's Managed To Live This Long

One of Carla's

A new friend from afar Strong A Threat Dangerous Another Threat to Rubicon Veteran The Mercenary Who Took Your Name Rat Fool The Big One Corporate pawn Rather Extraordinary Gen 4 Augmentation High Level Threat Strong Candidate One of Allmind's The One Rusty was talking about Head in the Clouds Old-Gen Alive Handler's Hound Old Colleague Subject Beast of burden Guest of Honor The Key Smartass Freelancer Wonderful People Demon Miserable Relic Trigger for the Change to come Dog without a shred of intelligence Not worthy of humanity Stray Dog Obstacle Faithful Hound Biggest Threat Legacy Augmentation The Greatest Obstacle The Liberator of Rubicon The only one The Spark of War The Fires that Haunt Rubicon The Monster who Burned the Stars One With Allmind Aberrations to The Plan Trigger for Coral Release Irregular The Old-Gen Who Could Do It All

The Freelancer Who Had It All

#ac6 #ac6 spoilers #c4 621 #augmented human c4 621 #armored core 6 #armored core #why did i do this #armored core vi #acvi #armored core fires of rubicon #raven #registration number rb23 #g13 #g13 raven

558 notes · View notes

sylusjinwoon · 10 months ago

Text

{ 182 }

saturn.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; mentions of drug use and near o-erdose; smoking; drinking; parental neglect.

{ stuck in this paradigm | don't believe in paradise | this must be what hell is like | there's got to be more, got to be more | sick of this head of mine | intrusive thoughts, they paralyze | nirvana's not as advertised | there's got to be more, been here before }

anonymous said: I have an idea I know you really like to write about a certain type of reader so you don’t need to do anything But I just adore a reader thats nice and caring but only on the outside. Someone who pretends to be ditzy and clumsy but in reality is anything but that. A wolf in sheep’s clothing basically. I’d imagine only certain people could see who reader truly was but just didn’t care or no one believed them. As for the reason reader would behave like this, I would assume it’s related to childhood trauma that lead to trust issues and consistently feeling unsafe. This would lead to them seeking to manipulate others and pretending to be someone their not to keep themselves safe. This would be a great thing to write about because reader could finally let their guard down and show their true self in front of their lover because they trust them. Whether this reader is a high ranked hunter or not, it is all your choosing.(but i will point out that society and the media can be easily manipulated. And they would love a rare “friendly” s-rank.) I could see this reader being with many characters, but you’re the writer so you can choose. As for how would this character get with another, it would depend on who you are pairing them with. For someone more introverted, they could catch readers interest for some strange reason and that could lead to reader keeping an eye on the character. For more extroverted and bold characters, the character could just see through readers disguise and be interested in reader. I know you love fluffy things so this is just an idea. I’m just a sucker for characters being healed by their significant other.

jinwoo sung felt like he was on top of the world when he managed to capture your heart.

being known as the 'sunshine hunter'; you truly lived up to your nickname as you retained your gentle and kind aura, practically radiating with positivity.

he truly admired your strength, being labeled as a rare, s-rank hunter who wasn't pompous and treated everyone as your equal. your smiles were filled with a saccharine sweetness, and the more jinwoo observed you, the more he became utterly captivated by you.

your honeyed sweetness was enough to trap him, keeping him mesmerized as his heart was settled within the palm of your hand.

so it came as no surprise when he confesses to you, leaving you the tiniest bit shocked before ultimately accepting his feelings for you.

how could jinwoo not feel like he was in heaven, being able to obtain someone as kind and sweet as you? how could he not feel lucky at the thought of being able to hold you within his arms each time he came home at night?

you held his heart and soul-

and jinwoo could only wish that you felt the same way when it came to him.

{ ... }

your life felt like it was becoming more exhausted with each smile you gave your co-workers and peers.

how could they not see your strained smile or the way the light seemed to die within your gaze as each word was forced from your parted lips?

how could they not detect the fake sweetness within your tone?

how could they not see how much you were drowning?

as you donned your hoodie and mask, wishing to avoid all fan contact while making your way home, you thought about the man you shared your apartment with.

the man you were dating...

your boyfriend-

jinwoo...

a strange sense of guilt fills you at the thought of him.

you had accepted his confession despite knowing how, deep down, he was attracted to the mask you always wore-

if he ever knew about your true self, then he would surely leave you.

growing up, you didn't have what many would call a 'happy childhood.' your mother admitted that you were an accident that never meant to happen; that when she slept with the man who would help shape you into a full human being, she got drunk and forgot to use protection.

when she found out that she was pregnant with you, she admits it to being 'too late' to have an abortion as she begrudgingly gave birth to you.

sure, during your younger years, she fed and dressed you; sent you to school when you were old enough-

but all the attention she gave you was the bare minimum.

during your teenaged years, when you could better understand just how neglectful she was, you did everything you could to make her start caring for you. during school nights, you would purposely stay out later than usual, going out with the 'bad group' of people.

you tossed aside your virginity carelessly to a mutual classmate and had your first cigarette with him (coughing all the way).

you tried your fair share of illicit drugs and nearly overdosed when you mistakenly took too much of it-

but all you received from your mother was an icy glare as she told you how much of a parasite and an attention seeking whore you were-

needless to say, the moment you were 18, you left that home and never looked back. by some miracle, when the gates began to appear all across the world, you found that you were pretty powerful and could fight these monsters during these raids.

it was thanks to the appearance of these gates that you felt less useless, your mother's neglect and hurtful words slowly morphing into the back of your mind as you swore to yourself to never reveal your true self ever again.

not wishing to be ridiculed and hated for who you truly were, you put on an intricately made façade; one that was filled with wide smiles and constant words of praise from you. you walked with confidence, (like there was not a single thing wrong with your life), with your head held high, never once revealing your exhaustion or depressed state.

and for a while, things went well, with you even being labeled as the 'sunshine hunter' as people flocked to you, adoring you with every press conference you held while asking for pictures and autographs at every chance by your fans.

you basked in the attention, greedily devouring it all as you used it as a substitute for the lack of love you received from your mother.

but lately, your persona was cracking when you managed to capture jinwoo's heart with your mask of light.

perhaps he was the one good thing in your life that you truly didn't deserve. he was everything that you weren't:

he had loving parents and a little sister that adored him;

he was powerful; far surpassing you as a hunter while being able to summon what seemed like millions of shadow soldiers-

you felt like such a damn sham for capturing his heart-

and it was tearing you apart.

what were you supposed to do when he sweetly gazed at you with his gentle grey eyes, asking you to move in with him?

how could you possibly disappoint the man who genuinely loved you?

the man that you were also genuinely falling for.

the emotions and memories were becoming too much to bear, with your steps quickening as you fought back tears. you knew that jinwoo had placed some of his soldiers within your shadow and would see you at any point and time (hence why you had your hoodie up and a mask on).

but there was only so much such flimsy coverings could do, and eventually, your face would remain bare for him. jinwoo would see the pain in your eyes, and the mask you had so carefully crafted would disintegrate into dust.

pursing your lips, you felt grateful that you arrived back at the apartment you shared with jinwoo, taking the elevators to the top floor as you angrily wiped away your tears.

you could no longer keep lying to jinwoo and the world.

you had to come clean and leave him first, admitting to him just how exhausted you were at pretending all the time.

before jinwoo ever came into your life, it was easy for you to keep up your bright and sunny persona, since the moment you came home, you were able to peel off that faux layer of your psyche while basking in who you truly were.

pessimistic.

cynical.

hard to love.

truly the exact opposite of who jinwoo was.

so while your relationship and romance was still growing, you knew it was best to cut it off while it was still in its early stages.

once you returned to the momentary sanctuary of your apartment, you tossed aside your mask and brought down your hood, taking long strides into the kitchen to grab two cans of ice-cold beer. cracking one of the aluminum cans open, you take deep swigs from it, draining it within a few gulps as you belched and tossed aside the can within the bin.

opening the second beer, you step into the bedroom and took out a suitcase, haphazardly filling it with your clothes and undergarments. you didn't care to try and make everything fit, wishing to leave before jinwoo ever came home.

getting tipsier by the minute, you drain the second beer as well, head spinning while looking down at your suitcase already half filled with your clothes. you consider opening up another beer when you felt the air shift around you.

a bored expression paints your expression, taking yet another sip from your beer when jinwoo appears behind you.

"sarang, are you alright?"

you don't respond to his term of endearment for you, choosing instead to turn your back to him as you finished the rest of your beer. already able to picture jinwoo's concerned expression as he steps closer to you, he calls out your name, ready to reach out to you when you face him and slap his hand away from you.

you refused to let the pained expression on his face fill you with guilt. "sarang-"

"don't fucking call me that!" you snarl back at him, tossing the empty can of beer to the side, not caring that it landed against the pristine floor of the bedroom. since jinwoo came home anyways, you figured you could do with just half of your clothes.

as you zip up the suitcase, you were ready to head out when jinwoo steps in front of you, preventing you from leaving. confusion was written all over his face, and he kept shaking his head at you, "what is all this? if something is wrong, or if i have done something to upset you, then you need to tell me instead of storming out."

feeling the effects of the alcohol giving you the much needed liquid courage, you let out a boisterous laughter, shaking your head as you struggled to calm down, hands clutching at your abdomen as you ignored the tears streaming down your face.

"it's not you, it's never your fault, jinwoo. no, it's always been me that was the problem."

taking advantage of your strength as an s-rank, you shoved jinwoo aside, and due to him being so caught off guard, he moves away with little resistance.

letting out a string of whispered curses, you were close to reaching the front door when jinwoo warps in front of you once more, blocking your escape. his eyes were glowing purple now, "what is going on with you-"

by now, your emotions were at a boiling point, making you shove at jinwoo's chest as his back lands against the door. hurt and anger was seen against his glowing eyes when he takes a hold of your hands, forcing you back into the apartment.

you struggle against him, trying to free your hands from his tight grip, but to no avail. jinwoo continues to gain up on you, making you step backwards as you felt the back of your legs get caught on the couch.

you land against the cushions with an audible gasp, jinwoo hovering over you as he kept you trapped against his body and the couch. your eyes weakly shone with hatred for him, but deep down, you knew you could never hate him-

you just hated the thought of losing him-

and that was enough to leave you crying, your emotions no longer able to be contained. your sobs were painful, wracking through the entirety of your form, making jinwoo's gaze soften considerably for you.

as you wallowed in your tears, jinwoo takes this chance to hold you in his embrace, using his free hand to roll your suitcase back into your shared bedroom. once jinwoo places the suitcase against the wall, he continues to let out soft coos of your name, pressing comforting kisses against your hair as he got into bed with you.

both of your forms lay down against the plush mattress, and as jinwoo kept pressing soft kisses against your skin was when your tears begin to slow. unable to help yourself, you clutch to the front of his shirt, knowing that you had to tell him the truth-

that jinwoo deserved to know the truth.

"i've been living a lie for most of my adult life."

you notice the way jinwoo stiffens in response to your words, yet still, he remains quiet, allowing you to continue.

"my childhood... and well, how i grew up in general wasn't pretty. my mom outright stated how much she despised me, a-and, i never was loved by her."

the memory of her disdain and neglect was enough to send a fresh wave of tears, but you pushed through the painful memories to continue your confession to jinwoo.

"that's why, when i was able to awaken as a hunter, i decided to never reveal my true self. i had to be a monster if my own mother couldn't love me for who i was. t-that's why, i figured it was easy to capture everyone's attention with a honey sweet personality-

but that's just not who i am... i never was overly positive with a heart of gold. i've got sharp edges around my heart, like glass from years spent feeling like i was nothing because of my mother, and i just- i can't do it anymore.

that's why you deserve someone who is truly bright and sunny... someone who isn't fake like me, someone-"

yet you weren't given the chance to finish your statement when jinwoo takes a hold of your chin, keeping it still when he presses a searing kiss against your lips. such an affectionate and intimate touch was enough to make your breath hitch in response as you automatically kissed him back.

jinwoo smiles against your lips for a brief second before pulling away from you. he frames at your face with two hands, using the pad of his thumb to caress at your features while telling you, "how could i ever think of abandoning such a pure heart like yours? and your mother truly was foolish, never realizing just how perfect and loving you were. she never deserved you, sarang, not the other way around."

his words make your eyes widen in response, "w-what?"

yet your boyfriend simply hums, holding you even closer to him as he allows your head to rest against his chest while kissing your hair, "i'm sorry, as your lover- as the man who loves you more than anything else in the world, i'm sorry for never realizing your pain.

from now on, you don't have to worry about your persona anymore. you don't need to be anything but you, my love... and i promise to accept you wholeheartedly... unconditionally."

your mind was spinning. was this really happening? was the man you had come to love really willing to accept you for who you are?

with eyes quickly filling with tears, you bury your face even deeper within his chest, "you won't hate me when i'm not smiling all the time?"

"nope."

"and... you won't get mad when i voice my anxieties and cry a bit...?"

"never." jinwoo reassures you with yet another whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple when he tells you, "from this moment on, you never have to hide your true self... for i already know that i'll love you regardless... you're my entire universe, and i can't see myself ever leaving you when you are all that i've ever wanted."

being filled with emotion, you allow your tears to freely fall, calling out jinwoo's name in a loving manner as you lean up to press a kiss against his awaiting lips, heart no longer surrounded by glass as you felt it slowly beginning to open up before pounding for the man that held you so lovingly within his embrace...

a.n. - this story was a long time coming, since it was a challenge for me to write. yet still, i hope you readers enjoyed this. and please, do listen to 'saturn' by sza. it is such a gorgeous song, and sza's vocals sound so airy and dreamy 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

247 notes · View notes

narumi-gens · 2 years ago

Text

Platonic

Miya Osamu x f!Reader

summary: Osamu knows that there’s nothing going on between you and his brother. And yet, he still can’t help but be jealous.

warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, don't let the summary fool you – this is basically just 4k words of fluff, jealous!osamu, slightly insecure!osamu, married!osamu, dad!osamu, very normal relationship problems, the importance of communication, kita is always the voice of wisdom, osamu is really just a simp for you, reader and osamu are #CoupleGoals

notes: whenever I’m trying to get back into writing, stealing plots from sitcoms is always a guarantee so everything from the title to the banner to the plot is at least 80% lifted from platonic (which is such a wonderful show).

words: 4k

part of the Meet the Miyas series

Osamu is jealous. And he hates it. He hates the word. He hates the feeling. He hates what it says about him. He really hates how irrational it is.

But what he hates most is that the person that he's jealous of is his own brother (that scrub).

But maybe he's the scrub. Because it's dumb. You've been together for years. You trust him. You love him. You're committed to him. You're married to him. You’re the mother of his child. You're happy with the life that you've built together.

And he knows that Atsumu is your best friend. You were Atsumu's friend before he even met you. Atsumu is the one who introduced the two of you, who set you up — which he'll never stop taking credit for if his speech at your wedding was anything to go by. So of course you spend a significant amount of time with his twin.

It’s never really bothered him before. If anything, he’s typically relieved that you’re so close with Atsumu. The more you occupy the setter’s time, the less time he has to annoy Osamu.

And you’re allowed to have friends and a life outside of being a wife and mother. He wants you to have fun and to be your own person outside of your relationship with him. He doesn’t expect you to go from home to work and back to repeat the cycle all over again the next day. Not that you would ever allow it.

It wasn’t easy and it took a lot of hard work, but over the years, the two of you have built a happy balance between him running the restaurant, you pursuing your own thriving career, being doting parents to a three-year-old son, and still managing to keep your marriage healthy. So this gross feeling of jealousy has no place in his life, especially where Atsumu is concerned.

But it creeps up on him slowly, needling its way into him before he even has a chance to stop it. He first feels it over something so small that it embarrasses him.

He asks you if you want to go see a new movie that’s been advertised for months. His mom and yours are always eager to babysit — sometimes eager to the point of forcing you both out of the house for what’s declared “much-needed grandparent time.”

“Oh, I promised Atsumu that I’d see it with him,” you reply with a slight tilt of your head before picking up your phone. “Let me check with him about us all going together.”

It’s a simple and obvious solution. You’ve already sent your message to Atsumu and are looking up showtimes for that weekend. But there’s a small voice in the back of Osamu’s head insisting that you should be asking him if Atsumu can come with the two of you, not the other way around. The unfamiliar thought makes him feel uncomfortable and he quickly shoves it away.

But just that small, intrusive voice is like a spark and it isn’t long before he finds himself hearing it again, fanning the pathetic, weak flame into something stronger.

One morning, he’s pulled from sleep by the blankets lifting and the mattress dipping. When he cracks open a bleary eye, he sees you doing your best to slip into bed without disturbing him. He can’t check the time on his phone without giving away that you’ve already woken him up. But from the pale grey light of early morning that’s already beginning to brighten the bedroom and the fact that Reiji isn’t already awake, Osamu guesses that it’s between five and six.

He knows that you had plans with Atsumu last night. You told him that you would probably be back late. But “back late” feels like an understatement considering the joys of parenthood usually have both of you up in about an hour whether it’s a workday or not.

When you come down a few hours later, the bags under your eyes and unkempt hair point to your inability to sleep in even after what he can only assume was an all-night rager. You pepper your son’s cheeks with exaggerated kisses that have him giggling over his breakfast as Osamu pours you a cup of what he’s sure is much-needed coffee.

“Ya got home late last night,” he comments as you take the mug that he passes you.

“Ah, yeah. Just ended up going a little harder than I meant to,” you reply and something close to embarrassment seems to cross your features. You glance at Reiji, making sure his attention is on his food before you lower to voice to a furtive whisper. “I threw up in a karaoke room and had to sleep it off at Atsumu’s.”

His immediate instinct is to laugh in your face and he has to bite his lips and quickly look away from you to keep from doing so. You weakly punch his shoulder in response before sitting down at the table.

But the amusement at your misfortune slowly starts to fade, replaced instead by that same voice, which is growing steadily more familiar. He can’t remember the last time that the two of you had a night like that together. He tries to think back on if it was before or after Reiji was born. And while you certainly don’t make vomiting in karaoke rooms a habit, it’s not at all rare for you and his brother to have a wild night out.

When the voice asks why you’re having them with Atsumu but not with him, the only thing he can focus on is the knot in the pit of his stomach and how it only seems to grow tighter.

He hears it again when he’s with Atsumu one day and he asks Osamu what he thinks about you rejecting a new job offer. The question is offhanded — he’s looking at his phone when asks it, barely even giving Osamu a fraction of his attention.

But Osamu freezes. This is the first that he’s heard about any job offer. He didn’t even know that you were interviewing somewhere else.

“What job offer?” His voice sounds thin and Atsumu seems to realize that he’s unintentionally stumbled into something much bigger because his thumb stops scrolling and there’s a line of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there only moments ago.

“Uh, it’s nothin’ big,” he quickly tries to assure his brother as he puts down his phone and turns to face him fully. “It just happened this week. Some new place made her an offer and she turned it down.”

Osamu merely hums, his expression betraying nothing, but his twin brother knows him too well.

“Look, I’m sure she just hasn’t gotten ‘round to telling ya,” he offers and Osamu can see the slight panic in his eyes. “She had that big meeting. And she’s been lookin’ after Reiji-kun since he’s been sick, right? Things’ve probably just been too crazy fer her to even think about it.”

Every excuse only digs the hole deeper. It’s not just this apparent job that you’ve been pursuing only to turn down that Atsumu knows about. It’s also your hectic work week and how you’ve been taking care of Reiji since the restaurant’s been too shorthanded for Osamu to stay home.

What’s next? Is he going to mention that you’ve also been so busy the two of you haven’t had sex in almost three weeks? From the guilty look in his twin’s eyes, Osamu would bet good money that he’s already aware.

On his way home, he tries to think about the best way to raise the subject with you and ultimately decides that there’s no good way to ask, “Hey. Why are ya tellin’ Tsumu things but not yer husband?”

(He knows that’s definitely the wrong way to phrase it, but that little voice won’t say it any other way.)

But when he enters your bedroom he finds you slouched against the headboard, fully passed out with Reiji sprawled on top of you as he clings to you even in his sleep. The light and tv are both still on. You’re obviously exhausted and stretched thin, while Osamu is looking to pick a fight. The guilt he feels is almost crippling.

It probably hasn’t even occurred to you to mention the job offer with everything else going on. Atsumu is right, which only makes him feel worse.

He comes toward the both of you and carefully tries to pick Reiji up out of your arms without waking either of you. But he’s only just managed to pry the sick toddler loose when your eyelids flutter open.

It takes you a moment to register what’s happening, still feeling the dregs of sleep, but when you do, you give him the softest smile and it makes him feel like an even bigger piece of shit.

“Did you just get home?” you whisper as you help him lift Reiji off of you. But before he can take your son too far away, you shift over and gesture for Osamu to place him in the middle of the bed. “He’ll cry if he wakes up in his room alone.”

“He doin’ any better?” Osamu quietly asks and does as you ask, gently putting him down before sitting down on your other side on the edge of the mattress.

“His fever broke a couple of hours ago, so he should be back to normal in a day or two.” The news is a visible relief to you. It’s not just the amount of effort a sick child takes, but also the worry that’s been weighing you down.

“Wish I coulda been ‘round more to help ya,” he tells you, his guilt about both doubting you and leaving you to take care of Reiji by yourself beginning to peek through.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you assure him, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hat hair. “I know that you’re in a bind since Kimura-san quit. I’m the one with the flexible hours and schedule. I really don’t mind. We’re a team.”

He doesn’t deserve you.

“Well, the new part-timer starts next week so things’ll finally calm down,” he offers and something mischievous sparkles in your tired eyes.

“Good. Because when you can finally take some time off, we’re gonna pawn Reiji off on the grandparents. Then you’re gonna make it up to me by spending the entire night making me cum so hard I see stars,” you tell him, your tone leaving no room for argument, as if he would ever want to.

“I can do that,” he agrees with a grin.

“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” you pout and Osamu can’t hold in his laughter, only for you to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from waking up Reiji.

Your own quiet giggles are able to momentarily drown out the small voice reminding him about the job offer that you’ve yet to tell him about.

But a few weeks later, even after having the house to yourselves for an entire weekend and spending it fucking on every surface that you could like you used to do before Reiji came along, those embarrassing feelings of jealousy are still as present as ever.

You post a series of photos of you and Atsumu at a restaurant. The first picture is of your happy, smiling faces and the matching pair of five-pound gyoza on the table, one in front of each of you. As he swipes through the series, you both look worse and worse as you try to finish your gyoza. When he gets to the final one, you’re proudly holding a certificate from the restaurant for having finished yours in an hour, while Atsumu looks like he’s on death’s doorstep.

He’s so preoccupied swiping back and forth through the photos that when the restaurant door slides open, it startles him so badly that he almost drops his phone entirely. He doesn’t know whether or not to be relieved that it’s Kita coming to drop off a new order of rice rather than a customer who didn’t read the closed sign.

On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with a customer while he’s in the midst of indulging that voice that’s slowly becoming a companion. But on the other, dealing with Kita when he’s in a jealousy spiral is even worse.

“Is everything alright? Ya look like ya just got some bad news,” Kita observes with a small frown of concern.

As Osamu assures him that nothing’s wrong, he tries to hurriedly shove his phone into the pocket of his apron. However, it slips from his sweaty hands and skids across the floor of the restaurant where it comes face-up to a perfect stop right in front of Kita’s feet.

He picks it up and when he sees the final picture of you and Atsumu on the screen, he shakes his head in amusement.

“Atsumu only sent me the picture of them at the start of the challenge,” he wryly says as he slides the restaurant door shut behind him and joins Osamu at the counter. He takes a moment to swipe through the rest of the photos in your post before passing the phone back. “I’m surprised ya didn’t go with ‘em.”

“I wasn’t invited,” he mumbled, vocalizing the bitter thought that’s been taking up so much space in his mind ever since you and Atsumu originally made the plans. But as soon as the words leave his lips, he knows he’s given himself away because he can feel Kita’s heavy gaze on him.

“Did ya ask if ya could join ‘em?” is Kita’s annoyingly reasonable response. After a few moments, Osamu gives the smallest shake of his head, confirming that no, he didn’t ask if he could go with you and his brother.

“Y’know, yer wife is an amazing woman,” he finally says when it’s clear Osamu has nothing else to offer. “But fer all of her talents, she’s not a mind reader. Just talk to her.”

Osamu groans loudly at how rational Kita is being. He drops his head down to rest his forehead on the countertop, his Onigiri Miya hat flopping off in the process. While he agrees that it’s good advice, there’s still one problem.

“Kita-san…it’s embarrassing,” he protests childishly and he turns his head to the side to look up at his old team captain. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Stop spendin’ so much time with that scrub!’ I’ll sound like an idiot.”

“Just talk to her,” Kita repeats calmly and Osamu can only sigh. “Why don’t ya tell me how Reiji-kun’s been?”

For the rest of the day, Osamu finds himself trapped in an internal debate over whether or not he should take Kita’s advice. The ugly voice in his head insists that he shouldn’t have to say anything at all. If you really love him then you should already know. The more self-conscious part of him keeps warning him of how embarrassed he’ll be when he tells his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, that he’s jealous of how much time she spends with his brother.

But a new voice, one that sounds exactly like Kita, simply asks him if he’s tired of feeling like this. Does he really want to keep harboring this resentment? It’ll only continue to fester and grow until it explodes, hurting everyone he loves.

So that night, after he’s put Reiji to bed and the dishes are done and the laundry is folded and he has no more excuses left to procrastinate, he collapses next to you on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. You look up at him from your phone with an amused smile, only for it to slightly fall when you see how troubled he looks.

“What’s going on? Did something happen at work?” you ask, turning to give him your full attention and scooting closer to him so that you can rest a gentle hand on his thigh.

He shuts his eyes and gives himself a single moment to steel himself before finally letting out the poison that’s slowly been building inside of him for the last few months.

“I have somethin’ to tell ya and it’s gonna make it seem like I’m fifteen or somethin’,” he says and he knows that if he didn’t sound so serious then you would be making a joke about him having some sort of wet dream and ruining the sheets. Instead, you give his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

“Lately…fer the last few months…I’ve been feelin’ kinda…jealous.”

There. The words are out there in the world. You’ve heard them. He can go crawl into a hole and wait for the embarrassment to kill him.

“Jealous? Of what?”

He hates how concerned you sound. You’re not making light of his admission. You’re not confused. You’re being patient. You’re gentle. You’re so much better than him and his childish pettiness and resentment and jealousy.

“You and stupid Tsumu,” he grumbles, slouching down even further into the couch. He glances over at you from the corner of his eye and sees the look of surprise on your face. He shuts his eyes again, balling his hands into fists, and tells himself to man the fuck up.

With his nerves now steeled, he takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and turns to fully face you.

“Look, I know that ya got this weird friendship with Tsumu and that he’s yer best friend. And it’s never been a big deal before, but lately, I dunno…,” he trails off, his gaze darting down before he forces it back up to meet yours. “I’ve just been feelin’ a little…cut out.”

“Osamu,” you murmur, lifting a hand to his face but he quickly takes it between both of his so that he can hold it tight and keep himself steady.

“I love you and our family and the life we’ve built together. I wouldn’t change any of it fer anything,” he’s quick to assure you, needing you to know that you make him happier than he ever thought he could be. “But sometimes I see ya hangin’ out with Tsumu and havin’ fun and it sounds dumb but, I wish I could see more of that part of yer life.”

You softly repeat his name before you climb into his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him close and pull your other hand from his grasp so that you can cup his cheek with a loving touch.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way,” you tell him. “You’re always gonna come first. I don’t ever want you to feel excluded or like I’m trying to keep the different pieces of my life compartmentalized.”

Just hearing your apology and acknowledgment of the irrational jealousy that’s been plaguing him soothes his insecurities and embarrassment.

“I want ya to be able to go do things on yer own and do things with Tsumu without feelin’ like ya gotta bring me along every time. But ya just look like yer havin’ fun when yer gettin’ up to stupid things together and I guess, I just wanna have fun with ya too,” he shrugs. Despite how true it is, he hates how cheesy he sounds. But from the way that you’re looking at him with so much affection, you clearly find it touching.

“I love having fun with you, Osamu,” you smile back at him and his cheeks start to feel warm. “I’d love to do more stupid things with you.”

“Even if that stupid thing is spendin’ 20,000 yen at an arcade to beat a bunch of teens for the high score?” he asks and it comes out shyer than he intended. “Or buyin’ out every flavor of chips and every type of snack from the konbini just to rank ‘em?”

“Even then,” you nod with a grin. “Even if it’s needing to make a cab pull over to throw up after a night of drinking.”

“I thought it was the karaoke room?” he frowns in confusion.

“It was the karaoke room for me. The cab was Atsumu,” you tell him with a laugh and he snorts in response.

But then, since this is a time for honesty, he decides to bring up the question that’s been weighing heavily on his mind for the last few weeks.

“Why didn’t ya tell me about the job offer?” he gently asks, the question curious rather than accusatory.

“Job offer?” The line of your mouth twists down and your eyebrows knit together as you try to understand what he’s referring to.

“Tsumu said ya turned down a job offer. It was around when Reiji was sick,” he explains and his tone turns slightly hesitant. “Did ya feel like ya couldn’t tell me?”

Your eyes spark with recognition before you roll them in annoyance.

“Atsumu’s an idiot. He never listens,” you begin to rant and he’s not too proud to admit that hearing your irritation directed towards his twin extinguishes the last remaining embers of his jealousy. “It wasn’t a job offer. A recruiter reached out about a job opening for a position that involves more work for less pay. I didn’t even reply.”

He feels an odd mixture of relief, guilt, and frustration. He’s relieved that this was just some misunderstanding, but he feels just as guilty for jumping to the worst conclusion and thinking that you were something big from him. The frustration will be dealt with when he next sees his twin and gives him an earful and delivers a slap to the back of his head.

“I’m sorry fer not just askin’ ya ‘bout it sooner,” he says and you just give him a look of understanding.

“You and me, we’re only human. There are just gonna be times when I forget to tell you something or just don’t think to bother with it. But I’ll always do my best to make sure you know when there’s something going on. We’re a team, remember?” You run your fingers caringly through his hair with a soft smile and he leans eagerly into your touch.

“We’re a team,” he repeats quietly, finding the words comforting. He then gives you a slightly embarrassed look. “Hey, don’t tell Tsumu, okay? He’ll just call me a scrub.”

You place a reassuring kiss on his lips before nodding.

“Don’t worry. You’re a scrub, but you’re my scrub and I love you.” He can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close. “But, you wanna do something crazy, huh?”

When he looks up at you, it’s to find a hint of wildness creeping into your expression. It’s the same wildness he used to see when you first started dating — before you both became adults and spouses and parents with real responsibilities.

The next day, Atsumu stops by the restaurant in the late afternoon during a lull. His appearance is unannounced, meaning that Osamu hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself for what he knows is to come. It’s as bad as he imagined because as soon as the setter walks in, he freezes, his expression going slack in shock at the sight of Osamu.

Or more correctly, at the sight of Osamu’s hair, which has been amateurishly dyed to be the same shade of grey that he used to wear in high school.

“Don’t even start,” he warns but doing so is pointless because Atsumu immediately bursts into laughter, finding it so funny that he has to clutch his stomach as he bends over.

“Who’s idea was this?” he manages to ask in between his gasps for air and his cackles. “Ya look so stupid!”

Osamu just stares at him blankly, not bringing up the fact that Atsumu is the one who’s been wearing the exact same hairstyle since they were sixteen, and isn’t that even more pathetic?

Because for all of the mocking that he receives, he knows it was worth it for the time he spent joking and laughing with you into the late hours of the night in your tiny bathroom as you did your best to dye his hair without burning his scalp.

#first thing I've written in months 🙀#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #miya osamu fluff #osamu fluff #platonic #mel writes

1K notes · View notes

baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

Text

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 5

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner!Javier Pena)

Word count: 4,200

Summary: Dealing with emotions is difficult when you and Dave realize how you really feel about each other. When a night in turns sour, you seek help from an unexpected source.

(spoilers beneath the cut so beware)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Feelings of angst about failed relationship. Fantasizing. Dave in gray sweatpants OML. Fix-it Dave ooh la la! Mention of sex toys/masturbation (f & m). Reader and Dave are down so bad for each other and feeling extremely guilty over it. Pineapple on pizza is its own warning. Fluff. Soft!Dave. Tipsy kissing/making out. Dry humping. You and Dave have your first big fight. Shower self-love. Sex with an Ex. (Sorry about that, but we all make mistakes, right?)

Author's note: We've reached the angst-y part of the story. The course of true love never runs smooth round here, folks. Thanks for everyone sticking through!

Series Masterlist

Despite your blossoming friendship with Dave, who's been a rock and a safe space for you post-divorce, sometimes intrusive thoughts come in the form of your ex-husband Javier.

You really can't help it - you'd been with him so long and he'd been the main man in your life, your first, your only. It still feels like infidelity when you try out a dating app just to test the waters. You imagine him doing the same thing then chastise yourself for thinking that Javier would even need to advertise himself just to get a woman. He's probably forgotten all about you by now, probably fucking every cocktail waitress in his establishment, not a thought or care for you while he's chasing tail.

It makes you angry when you linger on who's been in the bed you shared with him, rolled around in the sheets you picked out, whose moans were muffled by the pillows you'd bought specifically for their perfect fluffiness.

Whenever you get an intrusive thought about Javier, you simply think of Dave, and the first detail that comes to mind is his eyes.

You've noticed the subtle way they scan you from head to toe, making you hyper-aware of your chosen outfit of the day. He doesn't linger on any certain part, and you're grateful he can hide whatever thoughts he has. When you speak he seems to truly listen instead of waiting for you to finish so he can talk. And when he smiles or laughs, his eyes have the most adorable crinkles in the corners. You've caught yourself staring too long more than a few times.

If you let your imagination drift even further you think about his lips, how soft they look, the way his tongue swipes across them after a sip of your freshly brewed coffee.

It's easy to forget that he's married, especially when it's just so easy between you, so natural. You tell yourself not to get too sentimental over someone who has a wife and kids, an entire life separate from you that existed before you knew him.

Trying to put your new bed frame together, you realize you don't have you don't have the right tools to complete it. When he finally calls you back you can hear him out of breath on the other line.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" you ask, a little flustered.

"No, just finished my run," he says.

You explain about your task, and lack of tools for it. He offers his own toolkit and says he'll meet you at your place in twenty.

When you answer the door for him, you're taken aback. Usually in a suit, or at the very least, trousers or jeans and a button-up, it's a strange thrill to see him so casual in dark blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants, toolbox in his hand.

...gray sweatpants.

Your eyes drift downward of their own accord, the quintessential female gaze. Dave waits patiently for you to let him in.

"Sorry!" Heat rushes to the surface of your skin as you lead him to your bedroom, offering water or anything else to drink. Less than an hour later you have the bed frame put together, boxspring, mattress, and sheets on top.

"You can shower here, if you want," you offer, bringing him a green apple Gatorade. He hesitates at first, then admits it'd probably be easier than having to drive back home in sweaty clothes.

While he's in the shower you wash his clothes, trying not to think about him under the hot spray. Has he left the door unlocked? Do you dare to test it? You tell yourself these are irrational thoughts, brought on because he's a new friend and you find him attractive. Once he leaves you're going to put your rose toy to good use for the rest of the night.

Of course he's perfect. He's a lawyer for god's sake. And he's kind, and gorgeous, and so smart, and funny. He likes old movies, he's a good dad, he remembers little things about me, he really listens when I'm talking, and of course he has a perfect cock. I haven't seen it yet, but I know it's big. Maybe even bigger than Javier. Ugh, don't think about him. Think about those gray sweatpants and how good they'd look on my bedroom floor, or maybe even slid down just low enough for him to slide right in-

"Sweetie?" your mom's voice cuts through your fantasy.

"Hm?" You sit up in your chair, swallowing the saliva that's pooled in your mouth, along with the tanginess of the mimosas your mom had made for brunch. Your mom and sister chuckle, exchanging a glance.

"You're on another planet," your sister remarks. "Mom's got a menopausal snail trail going. You're better off tuning out."

Your mother swats at your sister's arm. "I was just talking about that gorgeous Idris Elba. He's my hall pass, you know."

"Mom," you groan. "I don't think we need to know everything about you."

The Sunday morning conversation has turned to men, and you wonder if you've given off signals of your own romantic confusion. You cheeks feel hot and you blame it on the champagne cocktails.

"You've hardly touched your crepes," your mom says, fussing over you. "I hope you're not running a fever." She checks for a temperature on your forehead.

"I'm okay, I promise," you tell her.

"I hope you're not overworking yourself, dear."

You don't want the attention on you because you're sure your mother will tap into her trusty intuition and notice something's off, maybe even read your thoughts.

Luckily your sister takes over, talking about the art program she's starting next semester, and you mouth a 'thank you' as your mother gives her attention instead.

To properly thank Dave for his help, you invite him over for homemade pizza. You hold your own little contest to see whose toppings are better, You allow him the win, simply because he's the only other person you know who adores pineapple on pizza.

Dinner turns into a movie night, and you open up to him in a new way as you scroll through the streaming service app, giving him a glimpse of tv shows and documentaries you've not caught up on, and ones you listed as to-watch.

Over a bottle of moscato and a shared bag of Starburst (you disagree on your favorites when he says strawberry is best, when clearly cherry is the winner) you settle in in front of the warm glow of the tv as you play a movie.

You lean your head on his shoulder and Dave tries to ignore the way his body reacts to your closeness, the way your soft hair brushes against his skin, the subtle scent of your shampoo rising up to greet him, to tease him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I really like this.. spending time with you," you murmur, eyes on the tv before they flicker up to meet his. "I mean it."

"I like spending time with you too. You seem happier," he notes, eyes taking in every feature of your face from the sparkle in your eyes to the chicken pox scar right above your eyebrow that he finds so endearing. Technically, his words are a lie. He loves spending his time with you. The more he's with you the more he realizes the small things in life he's been missing out on, like seeing a painting for the details for the first time rather than the big picture as a whole.

You shrug. "I'm happy for the most part. I have mostly everything I want. I should be really happy with 'mostly.' Not everyone gets to have a 'mostly.'"

"That's true," he responds, feeling as if you're talking about his own life, the missing pieces somehow missing when you're together. "Maybe all life is, is just enjoying the 'mostly.'" Without thinking about it he brushes a loose strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The small simple gesture makes you shiver as the air between you thickens with tension.

"More wine?" you ask in hopes of breaking the spell

He accepts, and you refill both your glasses, clinking your glasses together in a quick toast. For one brief moment as your lips touch the wine you allow yourself the audacity to think about his wife.

You open your mouth to speak then shut it, thinking better of it.

"No, say it," Dave smirks. "What's on your mind?"

Guilt, the kind only truly innocent people can feel, keeps you from looking at him when you ask, "Does Carol ever accuse you of anything going on between us?"

He honestly hasn't expected that question, the wine dulling his usually sharp perception. "No, she doesn't. I don't think she knows about 'us' at all."

"Okay," you nod. "Good.."

"Why'd you ask?"

"I just think if she had any suspicion then we'd have to take a step back, out of respect, you know?"

Suddenly the thought of stepping back into anything resembling the life he had before he met you sounds unpalatable. "Do you want to take a step back?"

"No, I don't," you're quick to reply. "But if she ever thought.." you sigh, leaving that thought unfinished. "I'm just projecting my trust issues where they don't need to go.."

"I see where you're coming from," Dave says. "But I'm telling you, I could leave town for a week and Carol wouldn't question it, so long as the money shows up in our joint bank account and as long as I'm on time for whatever black tie charity event she's spearheading that week."

You smile, stroking his arm. "See? This is why I like you. We hold our own little pity parties and drink wine and watch old movies." And when you rest your head on his shoulder again, it takes everything in him to keep from pressing his lips to the top of your head.

"Do you want to watch another one?" you ask. "Or do you have to get home?"

He's tempted, so tempted to stay, to bask in the lovely warmth that is you. But now you've put Carol in his mind and he's starting to sober up just a little. "I should probably get going. I've got a meeting tomorrow morning."

"Oh.." you try to hide your disappointment. "Of course. I understand."

Dave takes a breath to clear his dangerous thoughts, downing the last of the wine in his glass before he focuses on ordering an Uber. Though you'd promised you could drive him home, he didn't want to risk it as you'd also been drinking. "Should be here in fifteen minutes," he says, stumbling forward as he tries to stand.

"Whoa.. hey," you chuckle, holding him steady. He manages to stay on his feet, holding onto your shoulders. He feels the heat radiating off you, he can smell the freesia of your perfume. His body reacts on an instinctual level, one he hasn't allowed in so long. He needs to have you. Right now.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly, steadying him. "I can drive you home. Cancel your ride." Your hand cups his cheek.

The heat that's been building up in his chest has moved further down towards his groin, your touch only furthering his struggle to control his thoughts. "No, no.. better not risk it. We've both been drinking," he says, the one principle that hasn't been clouded by your proximity.

"I guess wine sneaks up on the best of us," you admit, feeling the effects after all. "I just want to make sure you'll get home okay."

His hands travel down, landing at your waist as he leans his head on top of yours. "I am home.."

Your eyes close, body heating up with the closeness of him, the familiarity that you've thought about but never acted on. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, bringing you close together, the beat of your hearts nearly tangible.

"No one's touched me since.." Since Javier is what you mean to say, but uttering his name feels sacrilegious in the intimacy of the space you share, and a sweet chill goes through you when Dave's hands wander down to your hips. His voice is husky as he says, "I don't know how anybody could keep their hands off you."

Lips parted as you gasp, you try to explain. "I meant touched as in something simple and nice.. like this.." You realize how needy you must sound to him. "..like, how you're holding me now. Just.. friendly."

There's a tightness in his chest at your word. Friendly. That word alone should calm him down, but it has the opposite effect, exciting him further. He wants to give you more than just a friendly touch. He wants to do more than just be friends with you. "Friendly? Is that what you want me to be? Just friendly?"

You nod. "You're my best friend, my only friend these days."

That word is like a knife in his chest, taking away all his restraint. Suddenly both his hands grip your ass, pulling you into an embrace that is more than just friendly. "Is that all you want me to be?"

"Dave!" you gasp as you're pressed close to him. And fuck he's hard. Maybe this was what you needed to finally cross the line, not just blur it. Desire pools in your abdomen, slick suddenly coating your panties as your mouths finally meet in a hot and hungry kiss, tasting of wine and candy as you roll around on the couch.

Every part of Dave's body that isn't touching yours feels empty. His tongue invades your mouth, hips settling between your thighs, grinding himself against you. Your fingers card through his hair, tongue dueling against his. He'd imagined this for weeks now, but was never sure he'd ever feel this with you. He wants more, he wants all of you. This fact is cemented as you pull his tongue into your own mouth, sucking on it.

"Wait.. wait.." you groan, pushing him away. "We can't."

He groans as well, all rational thought foreign to him as most of his blood has journeyed south, evident in the unmistakable bulge you'd just enjoyed him teasing you with. He gives himself some time to cool down as you move away from him. "Yeah.." he says eventually, head in his hands. "You're right, we can't."

Still worked up, you sigh deeply, still tasting him on your tongue, still feeling the rocking of his hips. "If I sleep with you then I'm no better than any of those bitches who slept with Javier."

There's a sharp look in his eyes as he pins you down with his stare, his pride wounded. "Hey. Don't ever compare me to that bastard. I am nothing like him."

"Dave, I didn't mean-"

He knows it's probably the blue balls talking, all the heat of the moment soured from its initial passion. He holds up his hand to stop you from saying anything further, from explaining what he doesn't want to hear. His mind starts to clear. He'd let himself get carried away. He's in your home, drinking your wine, sitting on your sofa, and getting ready to fuck you the way he'd imagined it so many times before. He stands and steps away from you. "If I was just like him I wouldn't give a damn about you. I'd have taken what I wanted and left without a single thought for you." To add salt to the burn he adds, "It would have been that easy."

Anger and hurt flares within you. "Careful, Dave. You're on the same path he started on, and it's a slippery slope for cheaters."

His eyes widen in surprise at your coldness, forgetting how icy his own words had been towards you. He'd come to you for fun and comfort, to shed the stress of work and life, not to get in your pants, though he's not upset it had nearly gone that way. "You think I came here tonight to cheat on my wife? You think I'm trying to be the next scumbag to break your heart?"

"You spend all this time with me instead of your own wife. And just now.." you release a shuddering breath, "you mean to tell me that if I hadn't stopped you we wouldn't be rutting against each other like wild dogs?"

Dave's anger dissipates, replaced by a sense of shame. You're calling him out big time, and he doesn't really have a response. He's spent more time with you in the past few months than he has with his wife in over a year. With a frustrated sigh he lets his head hang.

Through the living room window you see a pair of headlights pull up to the curb outside your house. "You should go. Your Uber's here."

"Yeah," he mutters, getting his jacket before he heads for the door. You watch him leave, so many other things you want to say are on the tip of your tongue, but you don't dare let them loose. You've already crossed a line with him, and you can't forgive yourself for the way you feel about him. His leaving is for the best.

The air is cool outside, letting the heat dissolve in his system, bringing some lucidity to his situation. But it doesn't help the gnawing feeling inside, his anger at himself for speaking that way to you. He's a ball of emotion right now. Before getting into his ride he casts one last glance at your window. There you are, the most beautiful woman he's ever known, the one he's fantasized about and lost sleep over. He came so close to having you to himself tonight, but you were right to stop him. It was a mistake.

He tries to compose himself in the backseat of the Uber, to make sense of who you are and what you mean to him. Of course you would attach yourself to the one man who'd been there for you to sever your connection to your ex. Maybe you had an innate gratitude, maybe you saw him as a hero. That's all it could be.

Suddenly his cell phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. Carol's name flashes on the screen.

"Honey, where are you?" she asks when he answers.

Dave pinches the bridge of his nose. "Hey, babe. I just went for a drink after work. What's up?"

"I just miss you," she says.

A wave of guilt courses through him, sharp and hot. Nauseating. "I miss you too, babe. I'll be home soon."

It's a surprise for him to be greeted by her as soon as he comes through the door. Even more so when she reaches up to kiss him. "You taste sweet. Like candy," she comments with a smile.

Her lips are soft, familiar, but they cause no reaction in him like they used to. Not like how kissing you felt. He gently pulls away, removing his jacket and putting it on the coathanger. "I had some jello shots at the bar," he lies.

Behind him, she puts her arms around his middle. "The girls are asleep. Want to come upstairs?"

Dave's body and his mind recoil, his guilt piloting his next move. Does she know? Can she sense it? "I'm a bit tired," he answers. "I think I'm just going to shower and go to bed."

"I could join you.."

A rush of heat is sent straight to his dick at her persistence. The thought of getting any type of action tonight is intriguing. But for some crazy reason he can't find the will to say yes.

"Not tonight, babe. I can barely stand straight as it is.."

"Oh." Carol is disappointed. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "Next time, yeah?"

"Yeah. Fine." She moves past him to the kitchen.

Once again he's disappointed her. What if it was a test? Things haven't been great between them, yet she's never accused him of having an affair. Not that he hasn't been tempted, heaven knows he's only a man. But you're the first person to actually make him want to cross that line.

He hates himself and he hates disappointing you and Carol.

Your scent is still on his clothes as he discards them before getting in the shower. He lets the water beat down on him, grabbing the soap and washing away any trace of you on his skin. But if only it could wash away the memory of the way you kissed him back, your body pliant beneath his on the sofa, the way he fit so perfectly between your parted thighs-

Without thinking about it his hand is already fisted around his cock, the soft suds a sad replacement for what he imagines the glorious slipperiness of your tight channel must feel like.

Carol's voice comes through the door, knocking him from his fantasy. "I have to go into work for a little while. I'll see you later."

He rinses the last of the soap off him before turning off the spray. "You're going in now? At this hour?"

"Dave, it's a hospital. They never close. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Okay.. bye. Be safe," he says, getting out and drying off his hair.

It's hours later and Dave still hasn't caught a wink of sleep. He's tossed and turned, punched his pillow, flipped it, punched it again. Carol is still gone. Once, Alice wakes up and asks him for a glass of water, which he happily obliges as it allows him to do something other than thinking. But as soon as she's had her drink she goes back to sleep and he's left alone with his thoughts again.

It's a few hours before dawn when he gets a text from you:

Hey, I'll pick you up later today to get your car from my place.

Dave exhales deeply. He can't just ignore you. He really does need his car back. But distance is the only way he can control himself right now.

Don't worry about it. I'll get Carol to drop me off and get it. Thanks though.

He waits for the read reply and gets no response from you. In this he feels more regret than satisfaction. Yet his thoughts still drift to the taste of your mouth, your body crushed against his, your hands in his hair. Desperate for release, the only way he's going to get any sleep is to take care of himself, to finish what he'd started in the shower earlier.

He'd left you so on edge, but it wasn't his fault. As Dave's Uber left with him in it, you hated yourself for what you did next. You picked up your phone and called the one person you shouldn't have.

Still wrapped in the bedsheets, you watch as Javier lights a cigarette and exhales a puff of smoke as he rests against the headboard. Both of you are still sweaty, the pleasure fading to a gentle throb between your legs as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

"I miss you," he says, running a finger along your bare arm.

"This was a mistake," you tell him, shaking your head. You never imagined that you'd feel disgust and shame after such a passionate encounter, but the life you've lived since leaving your husband has shown you a million more possibilities, and you're ashamed that you've fallen back into one that's already been proven not to bring you happiness.

"Don't say that, mi amor" he begs, stamping out his cigarette and reaching out for you as you reach over for your clothes on the floor. "You came to me for a reason. You must still have love for me in your heart."

"I came back to familiarity," you correct him, cursing when you can't find your underwear. Just moments before he'd had you in every position and even a few ones you didn't know existed. He'd counted out loud each time your cunt quivered around him, as if taunting you. "And now I'm truly done."

"Done? With me?"

"Javi, honey, you're only good for one thing," you tell him, shimmying into your panties.

And just to prove the universe has a sense of humor, in walks Cindy, the woman you'd found Javi cheating with in this very bed.

"Great.. just great," you mutter, getting the rest of your clothes on. "Don't worry, Cindy, I'm not staying, Not ever again, I hope you enjoy the house. I did all the decorating. But a little word of advice: give your relationship a second thought. If he cheated on me, he'll do the same to you. You can't build your house on another woman's tears and expect it to stand."

Cindy is still speechless at your presence, and Javi just hangs his head.

"Everything that's attractive and charming and fun about him now will eventually wear off. Cindy, you're young and beautiful. Find someone who isn't going to ruin that."

With one more look around, you leave, more confident than you've ever felt in your life.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk

@almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647

@milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love

@ppascalq

88 notes · View notes

rodger-eyeballis · 2 months ago

Text

” HELLO EVERYONE, GUYS!! DO NOT PASS ㅤㅤㅤㅤ BY, THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT ㅤㅤㅤㅤ FOR A LITERARY CLUB!

I have the honor to introduce you: the first and most ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ important president of the circle associated with ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ librarianship and preserving the memory of various ㅤ ㅤ ㅤexcellent authors — Brightney the Lamp! And also, a ㅤ ㅤ beautiful girl with good taste and a very high mind. Yes, yes, this is a very important part! I like to sit at books late at night, learn from the works and write my own stories. I ㅤdon't like loafing, loud noises, and bad behavior in the library. Now, we are fully acquainted, so we can begin your ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ little enlightenment into my affairs!

Introduction: ㅤDon't worry, Rodger wasn't hacked and he didn't delete his account (otherwise I see that there haven't been any posts from him for a long time because of my intrusion).. It's just that this Sir befriendly lent me his blog on Tumblr so that your sweet Brigtney could talk about our shared comfortable library circle (why you should definitely visit it and what we will do) and about the participants you can meet in it! Yes, yes, even so! And since this part is, for the most part, my introduction and excerpt.. I would like to add that. YES, I ALSO CONSIDER RODGER TOON TO BE A NON-TRADITIONAL ORIENTATION, YOU GUYS ARE NOT ALONE. I can feel it from afar, it's not for nothing that I've read huge collections about relationships —… Oh, I'm sorry, we'll talk about this later, Rodger started looking at me menacingly (HOWEVER, if you do join the club, we can discuss the mental analysis of this Sir with examples from the literature in one of the sessions, if he doesn't come there.. Just keep it quiet, it's a secret)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤTHE MAIN PART :

ㅤYou won't regret joining our literary club! It's a place ㅤㅤwhere books come to life and discussions become real journeys into the world of literature. We read a variety of ㅤㅤ genres, from classics to modern prose, and each participant can offer their book for discussion. Every week we gather to share our thoughts and impressions, and it ㅤalways leads to interesting and deep conversations. In addition, we have meetings with our local ‘stars’ (I MEAN VEE, SHE AGREED TO VISIT US SOMETIMES), which will ㅤgreatly increase the excitement in the circle. We also organize creative events such as literary contests and workshops where you can develop your writing skills. Our club has a friendly atmosphere, and you are sure to find like-minded people and new friends. If you love literature and want to discover something new, come to us! We will be glad to see you and create a unique atmosphere of ㅤㅤㅤㅤ communication and inspiration together.

ㅤ Also, by becoming a member of the circle, you automatically get unlimited access to my library! That is, at any time and hour, even when I'm not there, you can relax on cool and soft ottomans or sip Teagan tea at the table (just be careful! Don't spill it on yourself or on the ㅤbooks). Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Participants also get access to unlimited tea and coffee, and all thanks to the ㅤㅤ misis Mug! So, don't forget to thank her for it :b

And a little new vision in the circle! Now each participant can receive their own personal logo with a bow, made and sewn from.. A DRUM ROLL.. from GLISTEN! Oh, he's such a good guy! It's only recently that we got the Mirror, even ㅤthough I've been inviting it to our club all the time.. I'm talking too much. IN SHORT! By joining the circle, you can approach this boy and officially order our beautiful logo. ㅤㅤHowever, keep in mind that the ribbon will always be GREEN, so choose the colors and the thing that will be on the emblem more carefully. For example, I have a Feather ㅤㅤㅤㅤ sewn here! — Yeah, it's very beautiful.

Summary results for the lazy (Although, ㅤㅤwhat's the point of joining a LITERARY circle if you're ㅤㅤㅤㅤ even too lazy to read a short text??):

(By joining the club, you will receive..)

A reading experience and a good atmosphere!!!

Unlimited access to the Library (and yes, I forgot to tell you. It's on the ground floor of the third elevator!)

Meeting with the star of the quiz program — Vee

Masterclasses and contests

Excellent tea and coffee from Teagan (who will always be sitting in the library for you.. She really liked it there)

Special official logos to order from Glisten

And I'd like to add on my own: A handsome, muscularly attractive detective who comes to our club once every few weeks. Although, no. I'm not letting you look at sexy guys instead of reading 😤—

Well, that's it, guys! I hope you are at least interested in ㅤㅤsomething and you have a desire to join the club.. Although, this is more specific to toons, which makes me extremely upset. But don't worry, if I ever have my own ㅤㅤㅤblog, we can set up an online literary club, but in the meantime, you can get some information from Rodger about books! He's certainly not me, but the detective's ㅤㅤㅤ reading experience is more than good^^

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Members: (This section was created to show my favorites and their wishes for you! And maybe your personal opinion about ㅤㅤㅤㅤ the club.. For this reason, read to the end)

Razzle and Dazzle, comedy and drama specials at the same time! Deputy head of the club, keeps order in the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ library (puts books in their place, etc)🌙☀️

— Yes, that's us!!! Hello country, hello world, we are ready to work for the benefit of the club and you wonderful persons!!

— (Oh, you're at it again.. Be more calm, brother, you can't make noise in the library.. Don't set a bad example for them. Be quiet and calm, literary works require diligent thoughtfulness and understanding to understand the deep essence of it to the end.. This does not apply to comedi—)

— Hey! You're belittling me in public again!

Astro, the second headman, runs the library exclusively at night (if you take a late meal or have a nightmare, then go to him for sure!). He is also an expert in everything, but his ㅤㅤ favorite genre is science fiction about space ✉️

( I'm sorry, I didn't have time to interview him because he... he.. Um, too busy! Yes! This one's definitely not because he's missing or something.. )

Our beautiful Teagan! She has recently joined our team, but she is always ready to offer you interesting fashion ㅤㅤㅤㅤ magazines, as well as sad romantic novels 🍃

— Oh, my dear little darlings, I must confess that I have yet to fully immerse myself in the enchanting realm of literature, much like the illustrious Brigtney. However, I would be absolutely delighted to share a delightful cup of spiced tea with you, accompanied by a captivating book. Please, do not hesitate to approach me; I have a splendid tea set that is perfect for such serene and cozy moments. One can only hope that the mischievous dog-girl refrains from nibbling on it once more... Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Rodger?

This is my favorite duo! Rodger and Toodles (who also ㅤ ㅤㅤjoined here not long ago) are ardent fans of ㅤㅤDetective Stories, especially if they contain a bit of psychological horror.. Are you sure children can read this?.. Although, I know for sure that when this little girl learns to analyze the text under my guidance, she will not ㅤㅤㅤㅤ only read such works, heh^^⭐️💫

— Wait a minute, when did Toodles manage to devour the tea set.. ahem. Yes, when I have a little free time, I spend most of my time reading a book. However, at this point in time, I'm not only reading a detective story, so it would be extremely helpful if you would recommend some work. Only normal.. I've had enough of Brigtney as it is (I'll read romance with Glisten, he just seems to like this genre.. Although, after the death of Romeo and Juliet, he has not yet recovered..)

— VEEE! VEE iS comINg! SHE's cOMing, SHESs COOMing! I reALLy waNT to see hEr, I'm heR faN. I hOPe she liKESs dETECctive boOKks toO.

ps: I did not choose the logo for the bow, but this star on the bow is extremely good.. I think Mirror did a good job. My daughter liked it too, that's the most important thing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Glisten stars (???):

Yeah, I made a separate paragraph for Glisten because ㅤㅤhe... he.. The coolest, most beautiful, awesome and attractive toon in the whole center! It's impossible not to ㅤㅤgive Mirror a special place of honor when he not only visited me, but also bothered to help me upgrade the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ club.. God, do I have to write all this? 🎀

— Oh, yes, it's me! Come on, stop applauding! I know that you all love me, but there should be silence on the stage. That's it, thanks. Your wonderful Glisten has finally decided to join the club, after several pleading requests from Brightney. However, I'm not going to go to the library often beca— WAIT A MINUTE! Will Teagan be there? Wait, where is she from.. together with Rodg? In the same room? She's a two-faced fuc—... Mmm, anyway, this Lamp inspired me to improve and I will gladly go to the literary club every day. So wait for me there, my beloved fans😘

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

Phew, it was hard, but we got through it.. More precisely, I ㅤdid it! Thank you for reading, and I hope you didn't get bored my presentation. Maybe we'll see each other on the blog someday, if I need anything else from Mr. Rodger, but ㅤㅤㅤㅤ for now, see you again^^ ”

#blog rodger_bll #dw rodger #rodger dandys world #dandys world #dw glisten #glisten dandys world #dw toodles #dandys world toodles #dandy's world fanart #dandy's world brightney #dw brightney #dw teagan #dandys world teagan #dw astro #astro dandys world #dw razzle and dazzle #dandys world razzle and dazzle

79 notes · View notes

gothic-aesthetic-gal · 2 months ago

Text

Old Scars (Part 15)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. This chapter's pretty soft actually, no violence for once 😂 Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

Chapter 15 -

The next thing I was aware of was somebody else entering the room, though some time later. Their footsteps rounded the bed to the side I was curled up on and the sudden intrusion of the sound woke me up with a jolt. I looked up to see the familiar tall figure of a man in dress pants and a dishevelled shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked recently showered; his hair was still wet and his bare face still had some traces of shaving foam on it. He clumsily replaced the errant strap of his suspenders as they slid off of his shoulder and crouched down beside me. As I realised who he was, I struggled to untangle the knotted threads of reality and the dream.

"Hello there," he said, with a voice like dry leaves on asphalt.

"I saw you," I murmured shakily.

He sat down beside me on the bed with a hum which suggested he was intrigued.

"And you were afraid."

I pulled myself upright so that I was seated with my legs crossed, and much to my alarm quickly realised how few clothes I was wearing. I hurriedly clutched the bedsheets to me, feeling very exposed but trying (and failling) to play it off like I wasn't. Oh god, there was no way he and Tony hadn't already seen too much.

"Afraid of you? A little, yes, but everything in that place was terrifying. You were just part of the landscape," I said as nonchalantly as I could.

He seemed a little surprised by my candid answer and highly amused by my attempt to preserve some kind of modesty. He handed me a cold glass of water with a tablet fizzing away inside it.

"Drink that."

"What is it?"

"Just drink it."

I sighed, for once not having the energy to argue and began to sip it quickly, not liking the taste. When it was half empty, I put it on the bedside dresser. He stayed sat beside me, fingers pressed together into a steeple as he seemed to drift somewhere far away in his mind. I watched the muscles and tendons of his forearms flex as his fingers moved in repetetive shapes and sequences.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked in my hoarse voice, recalling that he had used this particular turn of phrase on me before.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in the faintest hint of a smile, recognition of how i'd passed his own words back to him. He didn't share, of course. He never liked to show his hand, no matter what game we were playing.

"What happened to me?" I asked instead.

"You don't remember your little, uh, scuffle with the Russian?"

"Don't be difficult, you know what I mean. What did he stick me with?" I grumbled.

He turned to look me up and down, measuring the depth of my frustration and finding it to be fairly shallow.

"A kind of fear toxin, courtesy of disgraced Arkham psychiatrist Jonathan Crane. I hear it's causing all sorts of trouble in the Narrows since the dealers got hold of it."

"Why would that ever be sold as a recreational drug?" I scoffed in disbelief.

"To be fair," he said, flicking his tongue against his lower lip, "I think it's deliberately mis-sold."

"False advertising," I echoed as I wondered if he'd always had such an unusual tic, or if he'd developed it over time. I still found it unnerving.

"Yes. Maybe he wants to hold people to ransom and grind out a little profit selling the antidote," J added.

"You think that's Crane's M.O.?" I asked.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he let out a kind of exasperated sigh.

"How should I know? He's crazy."

I failed to stifle a grin at the irony of such a dismissal coming from him, of all people.

"What's so amusing to you?" He asked, his voice slithering back into a slightly more sinister register.

His face took on a serious expression and he flexed his jaw. I realised I might be treading dangerous ground.

"I just find it a little hypocritical. I bet people call you crazy too," I answered earnestly, not wanting his unpredicatable moods to mold my own behaviour.

"I'm not crazy. I'm not," he muttered, though whether he was talking to himself or me was unclear.

"I didn't say you were -".

"Ah but you were thinking it. You were about to," he pointed a finger in my direction as his eyes narrowed.

"I only meant that people would say it, I've no idea whether you actually are. Besides, I wouldn't know what counts as crazy anymore, not after that bad trip," I muttered with a roll of my eyes.

He seemed to ease off a little.

"So how long was I out?" I changed track.

He paused, like he was at an intersection deciding whether to follow me down this new road in conversation, eventually he did.

"A couple of days. We got the antitoxin in you within three hours but you had a highly concentrated dose."

I thought about what the whole syringe might have done to me. Vladislav had clearly meant to kill me, or drive me permanently out of my mind. I shuddered just as Tony reappeared with a bundle of clothes in hand and my duffle bag.

"Here, I washed these for you."

There was something so unexpected about this enormous, fierce man, handing me my clothes like a mother getting a child ready for school. He set down the bag and clothes on the unoccupied side of the bed

"You can go now, I'll call when I need you. You know the drill by now," J said, tossing him a set of jangling keys.

I wondered how long Tony had been away from his family, and tried to remember what having people waiting at home for you felt like. I heard his footsteps fade, a door open and close, and finally, the rumble of a car engine as it pulled away. In his absence, the silence that fell over us was deafening.

"What happened to them?" I finally asked in my desperation to end the quiet.

"Are you sure you'd like to know that?" J asked, his tone dancing between seriousness and playfulness.

"Nicky shot Trigger, and you shot Nicky, but what happened to Vlad?"

Even without the paint, I watched a growing darkness twist the features of the man beside me. I hurriedly turned my eyes away from his face, instead settling on the peeling yellow wall paper in the corner of the room.

"I wasn't sure what to do with him at first. I considered killing him, but he just seemed to go deeper and deeper into madness. It was fascinating to watch."

Unable to stop myself, I turned back towards him, and watched the growing fire in his eyes as he spoke; he was becoming increasingly animated with each word.

"Tony dropped him downtown. Most likely he'll be picked up and carted off to Arkham. His fate is an excellent warning against any of the other men who might be tempted back into Maroni's deep pockets."

"He's stuck in a living nightmare. Yeah, I'd heed that warning," I said dryly.

"Exactly! This is so much better than just shooting him and dumping him in the harbour: the mob are desensetised to that. It's basically a regular tuesday for them, but this? No, no, this is much more of a powerful threat..."

His piercing gaze met my own.

"Still, I suppose you disapprove..." he said with a smirk.

"Are you kidding me? He tried to kill me and nearly had me stuck in some kind of endless hell."

I laughed a little at the idea I was going to be reproachful and I had his intensely undivided attention as I continued:

"It's satisfying to know that he's stuck like that. He set those wheels in motion. Let him suffer like I did."

He made a kind of sound under his breath, like he was pleased with my outburst and I moved to drink the rest of the water, still clutching the blankets to my chest. I still felt like I was nursing the worst hangover of my entire life, like I'd suffered an electric shock. One time I had forgot to unplug the toaster when I was cleaning it with a damp cloth and it felt like someone tied a housebrick with a string connected to each of my fingers and thrown it off of a cliff. The way all of my muscles had snapped taught and suddenly cramped - it was one of the worst pains I had ever experienced. This felt like that but all over, somehow worse. I grasped a tshirt from the fresh pile, and looked pointedly at him.

When he didn't move, I was forced to use words.

"Turn around already," I grumbled.

Both his eyebrows pulled up into a knowing look as he laughed.

"I hate to break it to you doll, but you tore off your clothes whilst screaming like a banshee yesterday evening. It might be a little late for that."

My cheeks flushed red as I felt the sting of embarasment. Still I hurriedly stuffed the t-shirt over my head and pulled it on the moment he made a big scene of turning to face the wall for me.

"You can turn back," I groaned and laid my head back down against the cool pillow, feeling terrible.

The next time I woke up, J was sat on the empty side of the bed, his long legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankle and he was holding out a plate. His face paint had reappeared by now and he wordlessly gestured for me to take the food he'd brought. I sluggishly propped myself up enough to take one, and instead he forcibly shoved the plate into my hands.

"You need to eat these," he said sternly.

Wordlessly and methodically I worked my way through the crackers as he watched me intently. They had a layer of peanut butter and jelly haphazardly slapped on top of them, I assumed for the purpose of giving me some sugar intake.

"It's a good thing i'm not allergic to peanuts, huh? Did you think of that?" I jabbed an elbow into his ribs playfully, somehow forgetting the many reasons not to do that kind of thing.

He looked baffled, which made me laugh a little.

"What's so funny?" He said sounding almost hurt.

"Your face; you just looked so confused."

"People don't tend to touch me," he muttered, rattling over the t sounds..

"Yeah, well people will give you a wide berth if you go around blowing up half the city. Who'd have guessed?" I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, he produced something from his pocket. It was a brilliant red apple, almost as vibrant as his painted smile. He rubbed it against his waistcoat as though he was polishing it. I watched him quizically as he took a bite and then tossed it into my lap. He had a maddening habit of chewing without properly closing his mouth which immediately made my skin crawl.

"What?" He asked, spotting my change in body language.

I gently put my hand over his mouth.

"Don't you have any manners?" I said as playfully as I could manage.

His eyes locked with my own and he slowly pulled my hand down.

"Define manners... I find that most of them are a waste of time. An unwritten social contract we're all just dragged into."

"Yes, but -" I tried to argue. He cut me off.

"Do you know, what happens if you get lacerations from here, to here? He asked, following the red line of paint which almost went from ear to ear.

"No," I answered, anxiety rising in my chest.

"Well, about here, is something called the parotid duct. It's basically the tube that carries your saliva, from where it is produced further back, into your mouth. If that gets cut, a surgeon will have to try reconstructing it. Even if they are successful, you'll probably have issues with it for life."

He gestured to a point on his cheek about two thirds of the way from his mouth to his ear, right at the top of his longer scar. Instantly, I realised what an asshat I had been and felt a burning shame spreading throughout my body.

"Not to mention, there's all kinds of nerves in here..." he pressed further, tracing the forked outline of some of them against my cheek with a finger.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think -"

He waved a hand to shut me up, but I ignored him.

"No, I am. That was me being a prick. I of all people should have thought about that."

He placed a finger to my lips in a shushing motion and my words finally came to a halt.

"Don't waste your time, doll. I don't care. Not about manners and not about what you just said." He said, nodding his head affirmatively in a frantic way.

I was sure that I felt a rogue tear slip out and roll down my cheek, despite my attempts to suppress the overwhelming feeling of regret that was welling up inside me. How had I missed the obvious and said something so careless, like so many people had done to me? Before I could wipe it away, he spotted it and pulled his body closer to mine. He cupped my face in his hands with a look of childlike fascination in his features.

"What's this, a tear? For me?" He mused.

I tried to turn my head away, but he tightened his grip in resistance against me. I was then suddenly afraid of what he would do next. He swept the tear away with his thumb and released me from his grasp. Not knowing what had taken over me, I folded my arms around his waist and I laid back down.

He remained sat with his back to the headboard, and surprisingly didn't try to remove my clinging grasp on him as he stayed uncharacteristically still. I felt him rest a hand against the side of my face. Normally I would have recoiled even at the idea of anyone touching my broken skin, but there was something about his touch that felt like it was white hot and purifying. It was the opposite to the feeling of disgust and corruption that my attacker in the alley had left lingering on me.

"Sometimes, when its about to rain, espescially if theres a storm coming, it feels like the plate in my head starts to vibrate."

"So they turned you into a human barometer? That's unfortunate..."

"I mean it's a pretty shit power, it fucking hurts, but I can tell you if it's about to rain really heavily," I smiled weakly.

I felt his hand smooth the hair over the location of my titanium plate.

"You know, I applied for a specialist plastic surgeon to help me heal better," I began, seeing an opportunity for a little dark humour; "to stop me looking like I lost a fight to someone wielding a cheese grater..."

I felt him chuckle at my ridiculous image which was at odds with the emotional weight of what I was sharing.

"but my insurance provider denied me everything except the most basic stitch-up and a permanent plate."

He gave a hum which indicated he was listening intently.

"I can't help thinking maybe I wouldn't have a lifetime of headaches if they hadn't put the cheapest thing possible in there. And, of course, the scars could have been much less noticeable," I sighed, running my hand over the valleys and ridges travelling down from my temple.

"The whole system - It's a bad joke," he muttered.

I nodded with a sigh.

"But it will never change. It's so utterly depressing. I hate it."

"We live in a cruel world, it's true."

I felt his fingers clumsily tracing over my face again.

"Are you wondering how it happened?" I whispered.

"No. The past is the past. When you live in the world we do, the only way to stay sane is to live in the present."

A smile crept its way onto my face.

"If you'd asked, I would've lied to you any way. Even to you, I wouldn't give that away," I admitted, looking up at his face.

He seemed struck by this, looking down at me with a renewed kind of fascination.

"What?"

"Nothing," he answered, patting me on the head.

Unlike him, my thoughts drifted to the future. Whatever this was could not end well: It couldn't last. Reality was always chasing me down.

"Lie to me," I said suddenly.

"What?"

"Tell me we have a future, that there's hope. That whatever this is between us, it will all be okay."

"Doll, you know that's really not -" he began with a sigh and shifted within my grasp.

"It doesn't have to be convincing. I just need to hear the words."

He was silent for a while, as I waited to see if he would do what I'd asked. He sighed and grumbled under his breath as he turned closer to me.

"We can leave all of this behind us. We'll run off into the sunset and live happily ever after. No more batman, no more Gotham city, no more police. I'll take you to the mountains - or are you the sort of girl who prefers the ocean? We can do both, all that greenery, and you can swim in the water."

It didn't matter that I knew the words were empty, or that he himself sounded utterly unconvinced. I picked up the apple, which had already started to brown where the missing piece was, and ate some of it myself. It was surprisingly sweet and crisp. I let my eyes drift closed and fashioned myself a strange sort of Eden in my imagination. I found myself falling back into the dance we had been locked in when I was under Crane's toxin. I was so tired.

I had nearly died a second time, and like the first, it had changed me in ways I didn't yet know...

Link to the masterlist for other chapters:

Tag list:

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

@dance-like-a-clown

@furisodespirit

@heath-ledger-jokers-wife

@sunfyrejoker

@lightsabergirl

@clowning--around

@ruby-da-archangel

@harleenqvinn

@helchronicles

@ostricx

@knoepfl

@jumpingjellyfishhaha

@nicklet94

Dividers by @strangergraphics ✨️

42 notes · View notes

atinymekanie · 6 days ago

Text

The Night We Met - Chapter 12: Only For a Moment?

|| Premise: What if Dawnbreaker's wish for one day and one night with the woman who lives only in his dreams... came true? ||

The sunlight shone through the gaps in the buildings of downtown Linkon City as Zayne strolled hand in hand with the woman he loved. His heartbeat sounded dully in his ears as he walked, his gaze straight ahead as the late afternoon sun cut through his irises, bathing the world in a burnished glow. The feeling of her hand in his made warmth flood throughout him, a very soft blush coloring Zayne’s cheeks ever so faintly as they walked.

The sound of her voice floated up to him as they strolled, genuine and comfortable as she explained about the market they were going to see – the food stalls that had opened recently, the vendors with trinkets and tinkerings and pretty little items for sale, and the music that played along the thoroughfare. Zayne thought it sounded nice, of course, but the thought of experiencing it with her was the nicest part of all. The fact that he had been allowed this moment made his heart swell with something he wasn’t used to feeling – a sort of gratitude, a thankfulness for being alive, for being allowed a moment that felt like honey on the tongue, golden and sweet and fleeting.

Reflexively, Zayne tightened his grip on her hand for just an instant, as if reassuring himself that this was real, that this moment was his to have. When she squeezed his hand back, he knew it was. For some unknown reason. Whatever he had done to deserve this instance of happiness, he knew not to question it. Whether he deserved it or not, Zayne wasn’t sure, but he was going to hold onto it for as long as he was allowed. Even if this was all he was allowed. Just holding her hand. Nothing more. No matter what else he wanted? No, no matter what else.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Zayne swallowed down the lump that rose in his throat, dissolving the ball of ice that had formed inside him as his mind wandered to where else his hand might touch, or where else her hand might go. The intrusive thoughts slammed against the walls he had erected, forcing their way to the forefront of his mind, making Zayne shove them away again, making him shore up those walls even further.

They continued walking, hand in hand, past the office buildings and the museum Zayne had seen in the old magazines he kept in his apartment. It looked so much more imposing in reality, and he vaguely recalled a memory of a dream, where the doctor had spoken with her while standing in front of one of the exhibits. The dream paled in comparison to the present, a shadowed copy of what he was experiencing now – her voice drifting into his ears, her palm warm against his own, her presence at his side filling him with a light he had not known existed until today. It would be enough. It had to be.

As they rounded a corner, the woman glanced up at him and saw the way Zayne was gazing ahead, his eyes fixed on the proverbial horizon, his cheeks lightly dusted with pink. It wasn’t the deep shade of red that had colored his ears previously, but it was enough to let her know that he was affected by her presence. That her earlier realization had been correct. A smile turned up the corners of her lips, her heartbeat quickening ever so slightly without her knowledge, responding to the feeling of his hand in hers and the expression on his face.

“Look! We’re here.” She raised her other hand, pointing ahead to the cordoned-off side street that was strung with currently unlit lanterns and filled with stalls that boasted all manner of wares and delicious foods. The sound of banter and the sizzling of grills mingled with the rhythm of the lively music that echoed from further down the street. Brightly colored banners hung on every stall, advertising the food or merchandise they sold, the large print and bold pictures inviting anyone who passed by to stop and have a look.

Zayne’s eyes widened as he took in the colorful thoroughfare, the street already beginning to fill with people who were strolling along the stalls and talking animatedly with the vendors. He had never seen something like this before; the camaraderie and the pleasant social atmosphere flowed past him like a gentle breeze beckoning him forward.

Now that Zayne had gotten more used to the number of people out and about and the very clear lack of Wanderers bursting out of the next person’s hide, he was beginning to realize that he quite liked the idea of socializing, at least to some degree. As long as she was there. With her by his side, it didn’t matter if there was a crowd of a thousand or no one else around. Wherever she was, happiness abounded. Zayne smiled down at her, mostly with his eyes, the barest hint of his smile curving his lips as he stepped forward, following her toward the market.

“So, what would you like to try? Or would you prefer to browse, first?” Her voice was louder than normal, raised ever so slightly to reach above the chattering of other perusing pedestrians. Zayne glanced around, his eyes flicking from stall to stall, reading the different items available for purchase.

“Maybe just…browse a bit, for now? I admit, I don’t know what all of these items are,” Zayne replied, his gaze landing on a stand that sold something called unadon. It looked like it had rice, and some sort of meat with the rice, but he couldn’t tell what kind. For a moment, Zayne felt the icy claws of uncertainty grip him, his own ignorance causing his voice to falter. He didn’t wish to look stupid in front of her, but at the same time, he also didn’t want to try something that might not be good, or that she wouldn’t enjoy.

Before Zayne could descend fully into the cold pit of chagrin that was building in his stomach, her voice halted his fall, the gentleness in it unmistakable. “That’s alright, I can explain them to you.” She had followed his gaze to the stall selling unadon, and she pointed to the photo of the dish on the sign. Hearing the slight waver in his voice and seeing the trepidation on his face made the woman want to ease his worry. “It’s made with rice and grilled eel. The sauce is really tasty. Kind of savory, yet tart in a way. Makes you want to eat more of it.” Her smile turned into a teasing grin as she glanced back up at him, pulling on his hand slightly as she started to walk down the street.

“Here, this stall has cheese pancakes,” she continued, her voice lilting through the air as she explained. “Don’t worry, it’s a sweet cheese. Although there are pancakes that aren’t sweet, like those over there.” Raising her free hand, she gestured toward a stall advertising scallion pancakes. “And that one over there sells egg tarts. Sort of like quiche, but…” She paused, realizing he might not know what quiche was either. “Sorry, it’s like a tiny pie, but the filling is made with soft baked egg, instead of fruit. It can sometimes have other things added into the egg mixture, but it all depends on what you want and what they offer.”

Zayne stifled a chuckle at the way her brow scrunched up as she tried to explain the egg tarts, the little furrow between her eyebrows extremely endearing to him. His gaze stayed on her as they walked down the rows of stalls, listening as she continued to explain the food items – everything from naan bread with various dips to sweet and spicy glazed pork to schnitzel and beef goulash, along with mochi of varying flavors and little buns filled with red bean paste. Sure, his eyes followed her pointing fingers to each stall, but they returned almost immediately to her face once the item she was indicating had been catalogued in his brain. While the food was fascinating, Zayne couldn’t deny the fact that the woman beside him was much more enticing to him.

At one point, the woman glanced up at him, meeting Zayne’s gaze as he stared down at her adoringly. This time it was her voice that faltered, the last of her sentence trailing off as she was explaining the filling of the pastries they had just passed. She felt her own cheeks grow warm, the weight of his gaze and the expression on his face as he listened to her every word filling her with affection and an ache she couldn’t name.

Clearing her throat, the woman tore her gaze from his, feeling the warmth on her cheeks spread throughout her as she made herself keep walking. His hand in hers felt oddly clammy, but she couldn’t tell if it was her palm sweating or his. Probably hers, she figured, given his normal range of body temperature. But that was odd. She and Zayne were way past the cutely crushing stage, where small glances were overly meaningful and holding hands made her heart race. Or so she had thought. Something about the way he looked at her now made her feel those same butterflies she had felt early on in their relationship.

Shrugging off the nagging thoughts, the woman shifted her hand in his, interlacing their fingers before pulling him towards the next section of the market – the arts and craft vendors. Stopping at the first one that looked remotely interesting, she pointed out the beautiful jade designs; some of them were ornaments, some were pendants, and some were even hair accessories.

Zayne let her pull him along toward the jade vendor, his mind racing at the way she had stared up at him, at the way her voice had trailed off near the end of her sentence. It had felt like something zinged through him when their eyes had met, and he hadn’t been able to look away, despite that being his first instinct. Like she had felt it, too. But that was crazy. She loved the doctor. Not him. She wanted the doctor. Not him. Zayne shook his head almost imperceptibly, in an attempt to clear his mind of such thoughts, his gaze focusing on the green stones before him.

One of them caught his eye, and Zayne instinctively raised his left hand, reaching out toward the jade that had been carved in the shape of a jasmine flower. His fingertips moved towards the petals, but before they could reach them, they met something else, something warmer and more yielding than jade – her fingertips.

“Look, it’s—”

“Oh, a jas—"

Startled, Zayne glanced up at the woman standing beside him, both of their words cut off as they each realized they had interrupted the other. He started to pull his hand away, the light dusting of pink that had only just faded a little while ago returning to his cheeks with a vengeance.

“Sorry, I—”

“I-I’m sorry—”

The woman started to apologize at the same time Zayne also started to apologize, their words falling over each other before halting again. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, a soft laugh huffing through her nose at the way his ears had begun to turn bright red. Awareness of her own cheeks growing warm again flooded her, and she looked down at their hands hovering just above the jasmine-shaped jade ornament. What on Earth was happening to her? She drew in a breath and picked up the ornament, holding it up in the late afternoon sunlight to draw attention away from both of their predicaments.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it? Reminds you of the jasmine in the botanical garden, right?” Her voice was soft as she spoke, just barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd, and her gaze found his again, noting that some of the redness on his cheeks and ears had begun to fade.

“Yes, it’s quite…beautiful,” replied Zayne, his eyes fixed on her face, just past the jade ornament. Part of him hoped that she wouldn’t realize he was looking at her instead of the jade. Part of him hoped she would. Would it change anything if she noticed? Zayne didn’t know, but something inside of him screamed at him that it might. And the other part of him silenced it as quickly as he could.

His fingers twitched, the urge to reach up and touch the jade ornament in her hands as an excuse to brush his fingers against hers almost overwhelming him. As quickly as he could, Zayne stuffed his free hand into his pants pocket, reining in his desire as he nodded, reaffirming his confirmation that the item in question was indeed beautiful. Just like her. He watched her smile as she set the small stone flower down, placing it gently back in its spot upon the display.

They wandered through the stalls, admiring the paper lanterns in one, the specialty handmade plushies in another, and the hanging plants in tiny, cute planters at yet a third. At each stall where they stopped, Zayne kept his free hand in his pocket, letting her pick up and handle any items she fancied.

As much as Zayne wouldn’t have minded a repeat of the previous occurrence, he didn’t want her to feel at all awkward in his presence. If he got through the day with her feeling comfortable and happy with him throughout it, Zayne decided that would have to be enough. It was already a dream come true. No matter what else he might have wished for, he dared not spit in the face of whatever had granted him this by demanding more. Especially if it made her uncomfortable. That was unacceptable.

But had it made her uncomfortable? Zayne wasn’t quite sure, if he was being honest with himself. It was clear now that his previous worries about her being scared of him or disgusted with him were unfounded, but that still didn’t mean she felt the same way about him as she did the doctor. That would be too much to ask. Wouldn’t it? But the way she had looked at him, just for a moment, made his heart skip a beat.

_____________________

After about twenty minutes or so of browsing the vendors’ wares, the pair made their way back toward the food stalls, deciding on the unadon, the naan bread with three different dips to try, and for dessert the cheese pancakes and some mochi, along with a bottle of water for each of them. They purchased the items and stepped over to the sidewalk with their small feast. Along with the food stalls, there were some standing-height tables set up nearby on the sidewalk, allowing customers to set their food and beverages down while they ate.

Balancing two of the containers of steaming food on one arm and holding the package of mochi in his other hand, Zayne followed the woman over to one of the empty tables, setting down the items carefully, his eyebrows raising almost comically as he sought to do so without spilling anything. She had carried the other items over, placing them on the table and turning in time to catch his somewhat silly expression.

Laughing quietly, the woman reached over and took the mochi from him, allowing Zayne to properly set down the food. “You sure you’re not a waiter in your spare time?” she quipped, her tone teasing as she held out a set of eating utensils for him.

“Pretty sure,” he replied with a smile, his tone lighter than he felt as he took the utensils from her, his fingers brushing against hers, igniting a tingle of electricity that spread up his arm. “I think I would be a sight better at carrying these if I were.” Zayne glanced over at a beam of sunlight that pierced through the gap between two buildings, lighting up some of the stalls and making the steam from the grills behind them glitter like mist in the warm light. It was getting later. The angle of the light told him that sunset was likely only an hour or so away.

Zayne snuck a glance at her Hunter’s watch but couldn’t quite see the time without making his goal obvious. Maybe it was better not to know. Better to just savor every moment as it came, to enjoy what he could. While he could. He looked back down at the food set between them, the sight and smell of each dish tantalizing his senses. Yes, better to enjoy while he could.

Pushing aside the anxiety that threatened to rise inside of him like a cold, dark tide, Zayne focused instead on sharing each dish with the woman, enjoying the banter between them as they ate, marveling at the flavor of each food as they tried it and comparing their thoughts. He did his level best to ignore the creeping tendrils of ice that wormed their way up his spine as the light shifted, the sun sinking lower on the horizon behind the buildings.

The woman noticed the change in his demeanor, the subtle way his tone shifted and the fact that his smile didn’t always reach his eyes. They had finished most of their meal, the only things left being a little more than half of the cheese pancake and the mochi. “Here, why don’t you have the rest of this?" She tilted her head as she smiled up at him, pushing the dessert towards him, well aware of how much he enjoyed sweets, no matter which version of Zayne was present.

“Are you sure?” Zayne responded quizzically, not wanting to take more than his fair share of the delicious treat.

“I’m positive. I’m a bit full, and the mochi we can take with us to the Bay,” the woman answered, nodding decisively as she did so. She had hoped that the reminder of their plans to visit Whitesand Bay would bring that light back to his eyes, and she had been right. Zayne’s eyes widened slightly at her words, his irises catching the fading light of the sun as he glanced up at her.

“Right, the Bay.” Zayne felt his heart leap a little in spite of his worry about the time, his eyes flashing with excitement. To see such a wondrous thing, and with the person he cherished most? That would be enough to excite anyone. “Well, if you’re sure…” He paused a moment before taking another bite, wanting to be sure she meant for him to have the rest of it.

The woman laughed and nodded, laying her hand on his arm, feeling the firmness of his forearm beneath the fabric of his coat. “Go ahead, Zayne, I know how much you enjoy dessert.” Her words were laced with an easy familiarity, a gentleness that came from knowing the other person like the back of one’s hand.

Her smile and the ease with which his name fell from her lips stole Zayne’s breath, her familiarity with his preferences making something inside him melt. No one had known him in this way before. But she did. Glancing down at the food, Zayne went ahead and took a bite, trying to hide his sudden rush of affection for her by stuffing his mouth full of the sweet, fluffy dessert. His cheeks puffed out slightly as he chewed, the bite he took much larger than intended.

Without thinking about it, the woman reached up and brushed her thumb along his chin, just below his bottom lip, a fond smile tracing across her features. Zayne froze at the touch, his eyes meeting hers as he swallowed the bite of pancake, that odd electric feeling he had felt before making its way to the pit of his stomach. Was there something on his face? Why had she done that? He was afraid to move as her thumb gently smoothed across his chin, the pressure light but firm, the feeling in his stomach making his blood sing at the way her fingertips felt against his skin.

“You had something, just there,” she murmured, her hand falling back to the table as she spoke; her fingers settling on a napkin and wiping clean the small bit of pancake she had brushed from his chin. When she glanced back up at Zayne, the look in his eyes had changed somewhat. It was still one of excitement, but with another emotion simmering beneath it, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. A kind of…heat. Slightly flustered, the woman reached for the package of mochi, picking it up and counting the little desserts inside to hide her reaction to the way he had looked at her. “Looks like there’s three, no, four of them? Two for each of us, then.”

Zayne nodded hastily in agreement, grateful for something else to focus on other than the rising tide of warmth in his gut that was quickly traveling lower. He took another bite of the pancake, not knowing what to say and needing something to do that didn’t send the sudden tension between them sky-high.

“I hope we’ll be able to see the sunset while we ride the metro out to the Bay.” The woman knew her words were idle, but the hope was genuine, her need to fill the sizzling space between them with something other than silence pressing at her until she spoke.

Finishing up the last bite of the pancake, Zayne picked up a napkin and wiped his lips, avoiding the place where her thumb had touched. It was clean already anyway, right? He began gathering up the empty food containers, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended when he answered, “I hope so too. It would be nice…to watch the sunset with you.” Whoops. Zayne hadn’t meant the phrase to come out exactly the way it had, but it was too late now.

She glanced over at him as he began speaking, her eyes meeting his as the words flowed from him. Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of his voice, the subtle emphasis in his phrasing causing her heartbeat to thrum in her ears and catching her off guard. Before she could respond, Zayne had turned away, quickly striding over to a nearby waste receptacle and throwing out the empty containers. By the time he came back, the heat in his eyes was gone, replaced by the warm glow of affection from before.

Zayne’s mind had run about a mile a minute as he had carried the trash to be thrown away, turning over the way she had responded to his statement – the slight hitch in her breath and the warmth on her cheeks. Perhaps she too would enjoy watching the sunset with him? Even though he wasn’t the doctor, perhaps for a moment he could pretend that her response had been for him. Only for a moment. Or maybe for longer? Only one way to find out.

With his heart in his throat, Zayne returned to her side, his hand slipping into hers as he nodded ahead of them, towards the metro station she had pointed out earlier. When her hand curled around his, instead of drawing away, Zayne felt his heart rate skyrocket, those thoughts he had walled away coming back with a vengeance. This was enough. He would remind himself as many times as it took – that whatever she allowed him was enough. More than enough. More than he had ever expected. More than he had dared to hope.

--------------------------------------

Tags: @callme-naomi @altair718 @seris-the-amious @schnittled @punk-cat

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #the night we met #dawnbreaker fic #lads #li shen #zayne love and deepspace #dawnbreaker #fanfiction #zayne #lnds #lnds zayne #lnds dawnbreaker

27 notes · View notes

phanfictioncatalogue · 5 months ago

Text

Terrible Influence Tour (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

a bite, a bruise (ao3) - phansong

Summary: Warning for TIT Spoilers!

Bernie and Phyl (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Phil might have accidentally booked them an extra night at their Boston hotel. He also might have slept through his alarm the next morning. And he also might have sat in some chocolate and managed to ruin his pillow, requiring their already-late departure pause for a quick trip to a certain aptly named furniture store.

breakfast (florida edition) (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dan orders "grains and fresh fruit".

Certificate Optional (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: After the third consecutive night of fans asking about the marriage conspiracy, Dan considers the quirks of their relationship and checks in with Phil. Phil, as usual is unbothered, moisturized, happy, in his lane, focused, and flourishing.

Chivalry is dead (it drowned) (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Sometimes when Phil makes a joke and Dan shoots it down, or when Dan warns him of his own clumsiness again and again, Phil simply lets the intrusive thoughts win and does what he wants. And maybe sometimes Dan is right, and he ends up falling down in a dirty puddle under a bridge on a long walk back to their tour bus after a show.

Based on a question from the Philadelphia pre-show about throwing your jacket over a puddle for someone.

Dave and Phil (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan's running late on a shopping trip while he's supposed to be doing the pre-show with Phil in Atlanta. As the minutes tick by in the theater with Dan nowhere to be found, Phil strikes up a conversation with Dave the security guard and has an idea for how to keep the show running after all.

Based on the actual email subject line from Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre that said "Dave & Phil Show"

Fall Right Into Me (ao3) - euphor7a

Summary: "Any plans for the full moon on the 15th, kings? It’s the Beaver Moon. Maybe we’ll turn into were-lesbians."

falling off the moon (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: "Dan fell off the moon!"

"I fell off the FUCKING moon!"

It's a Confidence Thing (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: After months of saying he wants an eyebrow piercing, Phil finally steps out of his comfort zone and commits to it.

It's a Date (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Watching a movie? It's a date. Sharing popcorn? It's a date. Traveling through Pennsylvania on a tour bus with their crew with no privacy whatsoever? In a town called Intercourse? Definitely a date.

Dan and Phil think it's funny to joke about everything they do being called a date. Their crew who are all stuck on a tour bus with them, not so much.

Just A Scrape (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: Phil falls off stage at the Terrible Influence Tour and minorly injures his leg. It should feel like nothing, but after the long string of medical emergencies that he's suffered, Dan can't help but panic.

love in mundanity, colourised (ao3) - ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)

Summary: Dan takes several pictures of the raccoons. They look like a painting, bathed in the pink morning light, majestically perched on top of a rubbish bin, one of them nibbling on likely-spoiled food.

Or: would you still love me if I were a raccoon?

natural. (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: tampa, florida. known for plenty of things ranging from busch gardens to outback steakhouse. unlike the amusement park, however, there’s a certain drink phil’s been eyeing since he’s seen promotional advertisements on his nightly youtube sessions.

(not) sponsored by funyuns (ao3) - Mildredo

Summary: “Go to bed,” Dan says. “We can have midnight snacks tomorrow.”

“You’re a midnight snack,” Phil mumbles, then turns his head a little and presses his teeth against Dan’s pyjama bottoms to illustrate his point.

Phil Fucked a Bear (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Based on the oft told anecdote where Phil romanced Halsin (the bear) in Baldur's Gate 3. Dan pretends to be a bear for Phil.

RPF stands for Role Play Finale (Obviously) (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: During the pre-show in Reading, Phil reads out the results of the roleplay poll someone printed out for them - they're winning against Jesus and Judas. Because that's what RPF stands for, right?

Somewhere all bright and new (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: “It’s not going to show on the camera,” Dan says, because of course he does.

“I know,” Phil says back, quiet. “That’s not the point.”

Stand clear of the closing doors (The next stop is: 28th Street) (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan and Phil are in New York on tour and agreed to meet a friend across the city, so having taken lots of trains around the world like the grown adults they are, they get on the subway. Except when the conductor calls out the next stop at 28th Street, they realize they've made a big mistake.

#tits out for #tit (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Phil is questioning his confidence, but when Dan suggests they try something new after a show, Phil flips the script and makes Dan see how confident he really is..

(A VERY dirty story, i am so so sorry)

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #dan and phil #masterlists #terrible influence tour #terrible influence tour Masterlist

28 notes · View notes