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alwaysmicado · 19 hours

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Next Month

1.5k / Steven Grant x f!reader / 18+

Summary: Your period arrives—a painful reminder of another lost month, another lost chance after trying so hard. Thankfully, you find strength and comfort in your loving husband, Steven. Warnings: period after ttc, emotional hurt/comfort A/N: I wrote this at 4 am after my cramps woke me up. Trying to conceive is hard. My heart goes out to all of you who are going through this too. It'll all work out somehow. It just has to. 🤍

The day had started out like any other—with a hint of hope, one that you’d barely dared to grasp, that maybe, just maybe, this time things would be different.

But as you sat on the toilet that morning, staring at the too-familiar streak of red, the hope slipped away from your grasp, and the weight of disappointment settled on your chest like a stone.

Another month. Another failed attempt.

You’d been trying with Steven for what felt like forever, and each time your period arrived, it felt like a cruel reminder that something was broken. Maybe in you. Maybe in fate. It gnawed at your heart, an overwhelming ache that mirrored the physical pain already coursing through your body.

The cramps were relentless today, twisting in your abdomen, spreading to your legs, to your back, as if punishing you for even thinking that this month might be different. You clutched the counter, willing the pain to subside, but it lingered. Sharp, biting.

The blood, the cramps, the emotional toll—it was all too much. And yet, somehow, you had to go to work, put on a professional face, smile, and be polite, even though every part of you wanted to scream and break down.

The hours dragged by in a haze of discomfort and forced pleasantries, you felt nauseous, no change of position in your chair offered any relief, every trip to the bathroom caused you to tear up, and Steven’s sweet text messages pierced your heart.

By the time you got home, your nerves were raw, your body and mind too exhausted to keep up the pretense any longer. Your muscles ached, your heart heavier than it had ever been, and a pit of dread sat deep in your stomach. You’d thought about calling Steven, but what would you say? “It didn’t happen again.” It wasn’t fair to keep burdening him with your fears.

He was so hopeful, so full of love.

But as you stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot you weren’t even sure you had the energy to eat from, something in you broke. The spoon clattered against the side of the pot, your hands trembling, and suddenly, hot tears streamed down your face.

The sobs came out of nowhere, jagged and painful, and you leaned forward, bracing yourself against the counter, shaking with the force of your grief.

You couldn’t do it anymore.

The hope, the crushing disappointment, the anger, the heartache—it was demoralizing. Why couldn’t your body do what it was supposed to? Why? Why couldn’t you give Steven the one thing you both wanted so desperately?

You didn’t hear the door open. Didn’t hear the soft sound of Steven’s keys dropping into the dish by the door. You were too lost in your sorrow, the ache that felt like it was swallowing you whole.

“Love,” Steven’s voice, gentle and concerned, cut through the storm of your sobs. His hand was warm on your back, but you flinched, too raw to be touched just yet. “Oh, love, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t ask if it was your period. He didn’t need to. You’d gone through this cycle enough times together for him to know. He moved around you, his face soft with concern, his dark eyes wide and gentle as he stepped closer.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand, but more kept falling. “I’m so sorry, Steven. I’m–” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. The words lodged in your throat, thick and bitter.

Steven was there before you could crumble any further, his arms wrapping around you with a gentleness that felt like safety, like home. He didn’t squeeze too tightly, knowing how fragile you felt, but he held you close enough to ground you, to remind you that you weren’t alone.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he whispered, his voice a soft balm against the wound in your heart. His words were warm, like the honey you often stirred into tea, the kind that coats your soul when you need it most. “You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart. Not to me. Never for this.”

But you felt like you had to.

The weight of every missed chance, every negative test, hung heavy around your entire being, and in this moment, it seemed unbearable. The tears kept coming, no matter how much you tried to stop them, and you buried your face in his chest, your shoulders shaking as you let it all out.

Every negative test, every pregnancy announcement from friends, every piece of baby clothing you’d already picked out, every article you’d read about fertility, every night you’d cried yourself to sleep—every piece of heartbreak you’d been holding inside—it all came pouring out in his arms.

Steven held you, his hands moving in slow circles on your back, wishing he could soak up your pain, wishing he could carry more of the burden for you. “It’ll be alright,” he murmured. “It will, love. I know it’s hard, and I know it hurts. I’m sad, too, but we’ll get through this. Together. We always do.”

His words were soft, tender, and you could feel the love in every syllable. He wasn’t frustrated or disappointed, not in you. That much was clear. He wasn’t angry that things hadn’t worked out again. He was here, holding you through the storm like he always did, trying his best to calm your racing thoughts.

“But what if…what if we can’t?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled back just enough to look at him through wet lashes. “What if something’s wrong with me, Steven? What if it never happens? Time is ticking and I—what if I can’t have a baby? It’s not fair and I’m so sick of this. What is wrong with me?”

His brow furrowed, his hands coming up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing away your tears. “There is nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly, his voice so full of certainty that it made you ache. “Nothing. And even if—if—it doesn’t happen the way we want, we’ll still have each other, yeah? We’ll find our way. I promise. I married you because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You. Not the possibility of a baby. You.”

You shook your head, tears pooling in your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “But I want to have a baby with you,” you whispered. “I want a little toddler running around, with your smile and curious eyes, telling me stories about Egypt before they can even pronounce the words. I want a child who grows into someone who makes the world a better place just by existing in it, just like you do. The world needs more of you, Steven, and I—I want that for us. A child to love. A family.”

“Sweetie, I want all that too.” Steven’s gaze softened, his eyes full of unshakable love. “Whenever I imagine it, I see a bright little girl with a big smile and beautiful eyes just like yours, tugging on my sleeve and asking a million questions about everything. I’m sure my heart would explode from cuteness. And there’s nothing I’d love more than to see you being the incredible mum I know you’ll be.”

His hands cradled your face as he spoke, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “But that doesn’t mean I’m missing something now. You already give me everything I could ever need. Every day.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “I know it’ll all work out somehow. And until then we just keep trying and being happy that we have each other, yeah? All I care about is you, love. I’m with you, no matter what. Always.”

His words sank deep into your chest, and though the pain didn’t vanish, the edge of it softened just a little. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a blanket.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, the words barely making it past the lump in your throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, his lips brushing softly against your ear in a kiss so gentle it sent a shiver through you, making your heart ache in the sweetest way. “It’ll be okay. I can feel it. Next month—next month will be our time.”

A small, hopeful smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him, your eyes meeting his. Despite everything, his optimism was contagious, and for a moment, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter.

You smiled at him, and in his eyes, you saw a glimmer of the future you both so desperately wanted.

-----

Moon Knight Masterlist / AO3

#steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x you #emotional hurt/comfort #steven grant x reader #cw periods #cw pregnancy #steven grant #steven grant angst #oscar isaac characters #moon knight x reader

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joontroverted · 3 days

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siren sweet, swim with me

pairing : nanami kento x reader

fandom : jujutsu kaisen

tags : pop idol reader, cfo nanami, fluff, angst, smut (later on), more tags to be added as the fic progresses

status : ongoing

summary :

after all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart. the best we can do is breathe and -

carrie bradshaw did not know what the fuck she was talking about. because when your international sensation girl group STARDUST collapses in on itself, everything you've ever known is hanging on by a thread.

disgruntled and exhausted, nanami kento, cfo, knows everything there is to know about his life. the books, the cash flow- the world he had built for himself made sense. until now. as the irrational nagging sense of uncertainty leads to a random moment of circumstance, the two of your lives are entangled.

ie. it's entirely up to you as to whether you'll shine in the spotlight, or explode and fade into obscurity like a supernova. it's also up to you as to whether you want to fall for the disgustingly handsome office worker.

author's note : first nanami long fic! can you tell i'm scared? anyways, this is an idea i've hadd since summer. summer! i'm glad i've gotten started finally 🥲 this is just the first chapter so it's just the set up. hope you have fun!

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index -

chapter 1 (ao3)

yuki's staring at you in a way that makes you want to reach across the table and swing your fist across her face.

you would've, if yuki wasn't very very important to you, and wasn't still built like a wrestler.

“it's fine,” you mutter. “i'm fine,” you repeat, more clearly this time. your phone buzzes in your bag.

yuki blinks, breaking herself out of her dead stare for a moment. “you're not, but that's fine. no one would be, at the moment, and that's all right!”

pushing her chair back, she gets up and makes her way to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. her blonde bangs tickle your face as she leans in closer, and her ginormous tits cover your arm from both sides as if hugging you to comfort you. if your mind wasn't running a million miles an hour and constantly hitting dead ends, you'd probably feel a little more comforted and a little less... crushed.

she waves a hand in front of you, as if gesturing to a marvellous new life. “we just need some time to rebrand you! some new girls, a fresh new concept, dye your hair some color we haven't done before and you're ready to hit the stage again!”

your eyes widen at that. “no.”

yuki straightens. “what do you mean, no?”

“i'm not joining a new group!”

“well you wouldn't be joining a group, you'd be the centre of a new group. the new group would be formed for you!”

“well i don't want that. i wanna be a solo artist now.”

there. you've said it. you've put the dreaded words out there, and now it's real. and judging by the way yuki's face falls, it's a reality that's not gonna come to fruition smoothly.

she straightens, her warmth leaving you. “oh.”

you bite your lip and look into her eyes. “just say it. tell me how terrible of an idea you think it is.”

“it's a terrible idea.”

she can probably see how your face falls, because yuki does something that yuki rarely does. she backtracks.

“or, what about a hiatus? you can go on a vacation! you can make a whole trip out of it, show how travel has healed you, you could even attend a few events with some international artists, and that could bring in a whole new crowd, huh?”

you put your face in your hands and shake your head, as you feel your phone buzzing away in your bag again. “yumi's already done the healing journey thing, and it's actually authentic to her.”

“yumi was never cut out for this life, don't compare yourself to her,” says yuki, her tone sharp. “of course she'd love frolicking in fields,” she grumbles.

you grin, despite her words. “yumi's doing great, by the way.”

“i know,” says yuki, folding her arms, “we've been in touch. you're attending the lauch party aren't you?”

“launch gathering,” you correct. “she's living a simple life now.”

“she can die."

“yuki!” you giggle.

“it's not the fact that she left -you know i'm all about ethical work, it's why i made a whole agency- it's that she did it so suddenly! we had had so many discussions where she swore up and down on her own volition that she'd renew the contract and all it took was a week for her to tear down this... this empire that we've built!”

“she's a simple girl.”

“a real simple person would know that they want a simple life from the beginning. which so called simple person auditions five times and then trains for years and then debuts to become the biggest girl group of the generation? and then just dips?”

“she just needed a taste of the high life to know what she really needed. like buddha.”

“people live and die for this life. people live and die for what she has. had,” she grumbles, “and what about all that talent? is she truly going to be satisfied doing the dishes in her little down to earth cafe?”

“she was more than content doing the dishes back when we were poor. she'll hardly be doing the dishes in her cafe, she's a milliona-”

“a simple millionaire.” you both say at the same time, and then burst into laughter.

“we are getting wildly off topic,” says yuki, after a beat.

you stare at your shoes. “i know.”

“any chance you're gonna wanna take back what you just said?” she asks, looking slightly like she pities you.

“no,” you reply, feeling and looking a lot more pitiful.

she sighs and takes the chair next to you. the two of you are silent for a moment, and that gives you some time to take in her office. when yuki had begun as a manager no one took her seriously. no matter how successful and glamourous her career as a wrestler was, she was still a newbie in the entertainment industry and had neither weight nor connections to her name. she used what little connections she had and started off as an assisstant in one of the entertainment giants and worked her way up to manager. what she lacked in her network, she made up for greatly with her charisma and eagerness to learn about the industry. and then she met you.

her golden duck that lay gold eggs, is what she called you.

you were sure you were just an ugly duckling that blossomed into a swan under her care, but whatever.

she got sick and tired of being controlled by people who barely cared for the craft and cared even lesser about humans they managed, so she broke off from the company to start her own. and through a leap of faith, you followed her.

and the rest is history.

her last championship's belt that sits right above her chair glints at you, pink and white, sparkling away in the sunlight. the office is so yuki. gaudy, but neat and professional. rhinestone embedded decor sits on shelves, reminiscent of the 2000s with the nice fur carpet and the literal disco ball that hangs from the ceiling. framed pictures of all the other groups and artists under Star City Entertainment decorate the walls, but your group is the highlight, with multiple pictures, much bigger than the others.

STARDUST, the group that made the company sky rocket.

yuki wheels the chair around to face you.

“why?”

“it just seems... correct.”

she purses her lips together. “i'd rather you not make me say it, but it's my duty as your manager to be frank with you. you don't really have what it takes to be a solo artist.”

“well, we can work on that, there are so many- ”

she holds a hand up. “especially after being a part of such a prominent group for so long. the general public love you but the fans already know that you neither write nor make the music. being involved in the behind the scenes is way more important to fans than before and it defines an artist a lot more these days. it gives them cause and meaning, some attachment to the craft that they're selling themselves with. you had yumi and seika to distract the fans from that before, but now it's just you. how long can you hold on to star power? and how far will that alone take you?”

the best thing about yuki is that she's brutally honest and always looks out for you. the worst thing about yuki is that she's brutally honest and always looks out for you.

it's as if her words have opened a chest of secrets that you had locked and chained deep inside you. your flaws were not flaws when you were in the group. they were just... things that you didn't need to do.

seika was good at producing and song writing, tasks that she was more than happy to have her hand in. yumi was musically talented beyond words. to date there hadn't been an instrument that she didn't excel in, and her voice seemingly knew no bounds, considering she had professional training to be an opera singer before this.

and you did everything else.

main dancer, the looks, the socializing, the personality... the star power, was all yours. if there was one thing that you had, it was what it took to be the it girl of the group, of the generation, and that combination of skills among the three propelled STARDUST and subsequently, Star City Entertainment to massive success that only grew as the years passed.

it was an open secret that this was the division among all of you. but everyone was okay with that. everyone was happy to perform their role, do what they excelled at and what was expected out of them. you all dabbled in each other's work, as you naturally would after these many years together, but the recipe to your success was the three of you, exactly as you were. and now it's just you. without them, there's nothing for you to stand on. there's nothing to add your special touch, your sparkle on to.

anyone could tell that.

the reality of the situation grips you like an ice cold fist and the hollowness that you felt ever since the decision was made public expands like a vast cavern beneath your feet. you are all out of tears, but your face still threatens to scrunch up with dry sobs as your lip wobbles.

“why don't you want to be a part of a group?” asks yuki.

“as if what we had can be replicated,” you mutter. “i really don't have it in me to start afresh with new girls who would definitely be younger than me and definitely have some buried animosity for me right from the beginning. oh, and the people. they already scrutinize us from the ends of our hair to the nails of our toes, i can already hear all the people talking about how i peaked with STARDUST and it's not gonna happen again. and what about GALAXY? they're not gonna take me being in another group lightly! i wouldn't even be ble to call them GALAXY anymore!”

“we don't necessarily have to have a three member group. maybe a five member group this time? that would lessen the direct focus on you and give the four other girls a chance to shine!”

“or it could give four other girls a chance to hate me more for stealing their spotlight if we do well, or for being dead weight if we don't.”

“we could scout some girls from other big groups that just disbanded! that girl from CROWN seems to be popular and jobless at the moment. what about her?”

“i just don't see it! don't you think the public knows that we'd just be trying to recreate STARDUST? also neither yumi nor seika are continuing in a group because both of them know that it was a one time thing. it's the exact same chemistry, or nothing! it'd be such a mess.”

“and even that is a safer option than you as a soloist.”

“wow,” you breathe, laughing, leaning back. “wow.”

“i never mean to hurt you.”

“wouldn't it be so funny if i went home and committed suicide after all this? then we wouldn't have to worry about what i'm gonna do next. my name will be remembered forever, i'm gonna go out with a bang- literally!”

“okay!” says yuki, throwing her hands up. "you're going on a hiatus! go on a vacation! find a new hobby, do whatever you want, i don't care- " she narrows her eyes and points a sharp finger at you, "and no, you cannot commit suicide!"

"geez, can't a girl joke?" you roll your eyes. "and i don't think it'd be wise for me to go on hiatus right now. i'd lose momentum and i'd lose my mind."

"finally, you're saying things that make sense. we haven't yet released any news of this, so you're safe. the public still thinks that STARDUST is on hiatus after the last tour so we have time. GALAXY has, however noticed that there's a lack of posts on seika's twitter and instagram, which we will be dealing with. you and yumi have been posting regularly and innocently enough, which is good. all in all, you'll be fine! the tour was enormous, so it would definitely make sense that you guys are on the dl now doing your own thing..."

she goes on about how doing nothing is okay, and your mind wanders to how it all began.

yumi had been sobbing almost every day ever since the last concert in the last venue. it had all started from there. she couldn't keep up with being an idol, and you couldn't blame her. yumi was never really the type. she was from an upper middle class family, and a musical genius. a sweet girl, who started off with posting covers on youtube and then began to look into joining a group, because she too knew that a group helps make up for what she lacked, which was everything else. and now, richer and more than satisfied with the taste she got of the idol life, she said she'd be happier in the food industry and going back to posting covers as and when she felt like it.

yumi's waning passion had set off seika too, frustratingly enough. seika was the opposite of yumi. she had joined the company as a producing intern which somehow led to her becoming a trainee, and when she always seemed to get the sound and the music for the concepts just right and picked up dance quick enough, there she was. she took it all in stride because everything seemed to work out just well, but even she knew that yumi leaving would finally give her an opportunity to come back to her origins and true passion.

your lip wobbles again, and you tune back to yuki just in time to hear her listing out things that you could do during hiatus.

" -of them are so fucking stupid, but i'm sure we can find someone sexy. a fun fling with an actor, how 'bout that? when was the last time you had a cute little scandal, huh? or you could study something, oh! you could do some volunteer work with animals, you used to be a horse girl, right? i think we could really- “

the door slams open, and the two of you jump at the sound. utahime iori stands at the doorway, mouth screwed up.

“are you incapable of picking up your phone?”

“hime!” you say, surprised.

“and what are you doing here?” asks yuki.

utahime ignores her. instead she makes her way to you, throwing her arms around you in a hug. she pulls back and looks into your eyes. “you're gonna be okay. so what if STARDUST disbands? you'll be the main girl of a new group!”

“see, even she thinks it'll be a great idea to be in a new group.”

“i wanna be a soloist,” you say dully staring at utahime's chest which is in eye level.

“exactly, and you're gonna be the greatest soloist ever!”

“oh please, not this again, i just talked her out of it!” yuki groans. “and how did you know about this? did you tell her?”

“no she didn't, have some faith in her. i put two and two together. seika's been more or less sleeping over in the studio with all the free time, yumi's gallivanting around the world, happier than ever and this one's been completely MIA other than the mandatory appearances at events. if they were gearing up for another comeback they would've been discussing concepts by now. also, i find it really insulting that you didn't tell me, ya know?” she concludes, looking down to you.

utahime iori, former trainee, part time choreographer/back up dancer but full time makeup artist to STARDUST. also, your closest friend. it's kinda sad that all your friends are more or less your co workers. yumi and seika, yuki and hime. now everyone's camaraderie is to test considering you're not really working together anymore. suddenly you realize that you don't even have a job anymore.

“she's doing her job. i'm doing my job. and what exactly are you doing?” asks yuki, now standing up.

“i'm doing my job!” says utahime.

yuki cocks her eyebrow.

“my jooob,” she falters, looking away for a second, “of being her best friend. yeah. someone needs to look out for her and care for her, as a person- ”

“and that's what you do, looking out for and taking care of people, huh?”

oh for fuck's sake. you're sitting between the two women who are standing over you, and in any other moment, you would've enjoyed being seated between two gorgeous arguing women, who most definitely need to fuck each other instead. you and utahime had been friends ever since she was a trainee in Star City, but yuki and utahime only really met when she was assigned as one of the official makeup artists for the group. nearly everyone had been victim of their terrible... flirtationship, as seika called it.

these fools are not flirting. not on purpose at least. they've been so enamoured and amazed by each other's existence that they just have to do something about it but that sinething never meant dating or kissing or fucking, it meant quarreling and irritating everyone till the end of time. they can't seem to fathom the idea of dating each other, or at least utahime can't. you do believe that yuki is warming up to the idea of it considering there's been less push from her side and more of her allowing utahime to speak over her. as much as one can speak over yuki that is.

“are you guys done flirting,” you say flatly, eyes closed.

“we're not flirting!” they both declare.

“good, because i wanna leave.”

“oh?” says utahime. you open your eyes and you see her glance towards yuki for half a second before determinedly looking back at you and nodding. “yes! let's go! we're leaving!”

it's sweet that she stands by you although she would definitely like to f̶l̶i̶r̶t̶ argue with yuki more.

“let's go!” she loops her arm around yours and pulls you up. you turn around to look at a slightly disappointed yuki.

“bye yu,” you mutter, giving her a half hearted hug.

she in turn wraps her arms around you and squeezes tight, almost lifting you off of the ground. “don't worry kiddo! it'll all work out. just... hang in there, okay? think about what i said!" she finishes, looking kind of awkward.

kiddo. she's really feeling terrible.

you feel bad, but not really. you're glad you managed to upset her this much, considering how she and well, everyone, had no qualms in upsetting you.

except utahime, that is.

you nod and give in to utahime's tugging and follow her.

"do you want me to stick my tongue out at her? or pull a face? i can pull really ugly faces, you know, right?" she whispers to you.

"have at it!" you snort, exiting the room as you watch utahime turn and pull a face at yuki which is quite the feat, considering how pretty she is.

the door shuts behind you and you make your way out the building with her, arm in arm in silence. utahime hums as the two of you go to the parking lot and get into one of the company cars, with a driver waiting for you.

the moment you shut the door and the car is moving out the building from one of the back exits, you thank god for tinted windows as you immediately lay down, your head in utahime's lap, sniffling.

“oh!” she gasps.

watanabe is nice enough to have raised the partition the moment he started the car. you stare blearily out the window as you pass buildings as utahime gently strokes and twiddles with your hair.

“i'm sorry,” she says softly. “i really am.”

“i'm sorry. you don't have a job anymore.”

“mm, makeup artists always have a job. i just need to talk to some people and get the ball rolling. i'm always down for collabs and teaching classes. i'll be fine. although i've heard that the NDA Star City is sending around would require for us to be quiet about our unemployment till you release an official statement.”

you nod, wondering about the near hundred people employed both directly and indirectly due STARDUST, and whether they have it all sorted, or if they're scrambling. like you.

you pull up the group chat and send a quick text telling the girls that you'd like to send a confidential broadcast to everyone that they could reach out if they had issues finding a job. neither of them have even received the message. obviously. you toss the phone back into your bag and curl into utahime's stomach.

“what am i gonna dooo?” you groan, inhaling her sweet perfume.

“have you considered going home? spending some time with your family?"

"that's just escapism." your parents are worlds apart from yours. two middle middle class engineers, and no siblings. they're very important to you, but unless they give you a solution to this... this mess, you don't want to go to one of your few safe spaces and ruin it with your hopelessness. you need something concrete. something real.

"you could also..." you look up to see hime's face scrunched up the way it usually does when she's gonna say something so fuck ass. "you know your unemployment is not the same as anyone else's unemployment, right? you're a millionaire! you coud drop off the face of the earth and live off of royalty and stocks alone. and then when you're bored you could start an exclusive luxury clothing line and enter the industry again! loads of people have done it!"

you stare at her.

"i'm sorry."

"you should be."

"do you want some ice cream?"

"yes. get some for watanabe san too. you're buying though, i'm unemployed now."

she flicks your nose before she asks watanabe to stop the car near an ice cream truck. utahime's popular, but only in the industry. regardless, she snaps on a face mask and heads out to the truck.

what if you became a host. like for a show like too hot to handle or single's inferno. what if you joined a show. you could enter like a special contestant in the middle and topple the social heirarchy that was established there. the analysis videos would be come aplenty with that one, oh and so would the downfall of the generation's it girl video essays. you don't watch or consume news/media about yourself but you do watch a lot of video essays so what would you do if one of your favourite youtubers made one about you? you could hang yourself and give them more to talk about. no, that's way too serious, even for you. what if you got a regular--

"-- and here we have roasted almond for my baby! and plain ol' vanilla for watanabe san, no, put your wallet down! we insist!"

you bristle, getting up from still being curled up on the backseat. leaning back, you lick the side of the cone that has ice cream threatening to dribble down your hand and wonder if this really is the end of it all.

"it is."

“um, should i perhaps inform gojo san of the time? i don't think it's healthy to-- "

"ijichi."

"i'm sorry! just give me five minutes, i will be back!"

kento watches as ijichi scurries away round the corner. he sighs. he never means to be short with ijichi but anything that doesn't directly contribute to solving an issue at hand doesn't require more than a simple conversation, let alone an entire back and forth.

it's even more insulting that ijichi thinks that satoru has any say over how long he's working. satoru wouldn't care less if he worked from his office or if he worked from a rager in aruba. he thinks he'd even prefer it.

speaking of satoru, he hasn't seen him the entire day. they hadn't had any meetings that required more than a phone call and one he had meeting with suguru, but suguru had been happy to come over to his office to talk. just the thought of the two of them makes his eyes immediately unwillingly flit over to the other side of the floor. to the wide office far opposite to him, past the darkness of the empty cublicle space, he can see the yellow light from one of satoru's newer lamps on and the blinds shut. a wave of irritation passes through him before he forcibly dismisses the thought, aching for the bitter taste of the coffee he's awaiting.

he has work to do.

he slides his spectacles back down to his nose bridge from where they were perched on his forehead and cringes with the initial burn from staring at the screen. has his power increased? he should get it checked and changed, he notes down mentally.

“nanamin!”

oh he is going to gut ijichi alive.

he looks up and it seems that ijichi seems to value his life because he's made himself scarce. instead at his office door, bouncing from one foot to the other, swaying from side to side, clearly not caring for the well being of the coffee in his hand is gojo satoru.

“and where is ijichi?” asks kento, motioning for his coffee.

satoru takes that as an invitation to enter and sprawl his upper half over kento's desk, smiling face staring down at him, coffee still in his hand. kento snatches it back carefully. clearly he's going to need it now more than ever.

“ijichi came cowering to my office saying that my cute kouhai's on his eighth coffee of the day! made it seem like i'm some terrorizing dictator making his precious nanami san work overtime. that's hardly the truth now, is it?” he says, pulling a sad face, expectantly looking at kento.

kento sips his coffee. “ijichi did not make this.”

“and he never could! i sent him home. i made the coffee myself, you're welcome. one could call me a humble man.”

kento grunts. one never would. however both of them knew that while ijichi's coffee is what he expected, satoru made his taste... unfortunately nice.

“i'm nearly done. i'll just finish looking over this bit and then i'm packing. you can go back to your office.” he waves to satoru, eyes back on the screen. placebo effect or not, the caffeine makes sifting through all the numbers a little less of a task this time.

there's silence as kento makes his way down the document, making sure that it was up to expectations, the only sound being the squeak of his chair as he leans forward at times to see something more clearly.

“are you done yet? because i finished reading that almost a minute ago and it's all good.”

satoru's made his way to behind kento and is leaning over his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.

kento exits out of the document with a smash of keys. “what do you want?” he bellows.

satoru reaches out to his computer, shutting it down over kento's head, literally, and then spins kento to face him. if kento ground his teeth anymore, he'd have a mouth full of powder.

“i need you.”

“you have three seconds, maximum.”

“okey dokey. i'm inviting superstar it girl of our generation, the only icon more iconic than me, celestial beauty siren to the party.”

kento nods, getting up to leave. “amazing. i'll try to contain my excitement."

“it will not be easy,” says satoru, pushing kento down. he scoots his ass onto his table, chin in hand. “it won't be easy at all.”

kento rolls his eyes. “and why is that,” he says, flatly.

that actually makes satoru fully direct his attention to him, a grin spreading across his face. “boy, do i have some gossip for you!” he cackles. “but you need cross your heart and hope to die pwomise not to tell anyone what i'm just about to tell you!”

kento crosses his heart with one finger, head in hand.

“okay so initially i wanted to invite the whole damn group because duh, that's how the magic happens, but imagine the resistance i got from the company like damn not a single bitch in that building is available to speak to? i almost pulled a do you know who you're talking to? so i dug deep. or rather i bullied megumi to dig deep until i had to enter the field and take matters into my own hands. pull up a few contacts, ask a few favors- ”

“why is this one band so important to you?”

“group. girl group. anyways guess what i found!” satoru doesn't leave kento any time to answer, not that he had any answers. he leans forward conspiringly, his eyes a mix of mischief and malice. “STARDUST... is no more.”

“they died?” kento starts, taken aback. satoru's gossip was neither worth sharing nor listening, but for once he had delivered some quality news. a girl group that big? japan would be in shambles. nobara would be in shamles, he realizes.

“this is worse. they broke up!”

“and how is that worse?” he stands up, tired of this conversation. he straightens himself and begins to pack for home, putting things in place in record speed. there's yesterday's leftovers waiting for him, along with a new bottle of wine he would definitely need after the day that he had had. satoru follows him, and before kento can react he snatches his briefcase away from him, holding it hostage.

“it's terrible! i cannot fathom a reason why! what they have is... is once in a lifetime stuff, and they're throwing that away for what? the industry loves them, and GALAXY...” he sniffles, “and the girls...” he mumbles, looking at his feet, head downcast, pouting.

“i'm sure you'll be fine. within days there will be a new group of 20 somethings singing and dancing and -”

“don't you see how much pressure there is on me now?” exclaims satoru, now hugging the briefcase, his lips twisted into a frown. “i promised the girls that they're gonna get a surprise! i can't just turn up with only one 'em!”

“who?”

“nanako and mimiko!" he whispers. "don't tell suguru!"

oh. oh god. the gloom that's been in him grows and kento almost loosens his tie to breathe.

kento purses his lips, moving to snatch his briefcase and satoru dodges out the way. "give it to me!" he hisses, "unlike you, i don't have time to waste over silly whims of children."

satoru scoffs. "you would move heaven and earth for yuuji, even nobara! silly whims of children, my ass! you spoil them rotten!"

"i spoil them a reasonable amount, none of which is your business. invite them all, invite none, i don't care. just today i went through mountains of reports. i've been buried in these numbers all day, trying to forecast next quarter's revenue and-"

"kento please." satoru's looking at him with a wrinkle between his brows, and he can't help but take in how ridiculous he looks. hair mussed from running his fingers through them and his glasses are nowhere to be seen. he's blinking more than usual because of it too. the ceo of the infinity hotels, gojo satoru hassled over the breakup of a girl group seems laughable, but kento begrudgingly suspects what this means for him. the ticket to the nice big happy-

“you've never cared for those girls before. what changed now?”

“i've cared for those girls!” he squaks. “i care about all children.”

kento just looks at him.

satoru doubles down. “i care about megumi, and yuuji and even young kugisaki, even though she barely acknowledges my presence. i care about your kids, so,” he shrugs. “it's only natural that i care about my partner's kids! all my partner's kids,” he adds.

satoru is an amazing liar. kento knows what satoru looks like when he lies well. and kento knows that satoru's lying right now, and he's so lov- lost that he doesn't even realize how badly he's lying. he almost gags.

"i'm asking you this as a friend," continues satoru. "i know..." he looks away, his eyes bouncing about the room. "i know things have been... rocky recently, i've been too busy with work, and patching things up with suguru, and the girls because i think" his voice softens, “i think it'll work out this time. infinity's been doing great, all the time and money's finally paid off, suguru's parents have finally- it's nearly been a fucking decade- come around and let me off the handle for making... um, influencing suguru to drop out, and the girls are old enough to let suguru at least entertain the thought of dating. i just... need to win them over a little!”

the question hangs in the air between them, and kento knows that satoru wishes he won't reach out and address. regarding any otehr issue relation to satoru, kento gladly wouldn't. however-

“but why?”

“it's... it's suguru!” is all satoru says, faltering. “he's my best friend, and he's your friend too. i want to do something nice for him, and you know he loves his daughters!” satoru pumps his arm with a guffaw that sounds all too full of fake enthusiam. or rather real enthusiasm, but something else.

the weary look on satoru's face turns something in kento. he has almost never in the last thirteen years of knowing satoru ever seen him so... genuinely concerned for anything. not when they made this company, not when their first hotel launched, hell not even when his parents nearly cut him off for all the risks. only one man made him quiver so, and he'd do anything for him. the rest of the men and materials around him were just collateral damage.

he swallows. fixes his tie and looks away. “what do you want from me?” he grits out.

satoru lights up like a christmas tree. he pulls out his phone and wow- there's an entire spreadsheet's worth of information he has compiled.

“okay, so from what i've gathered, mirage is on a complete hiatus from everything and melody is either out of the country or has left the industry entirely... or both. i'd still like you too check- ” he glances up at kento and takes in his lost look. he rolls his eyes.

“okay grandpa. mirage,” he says slowly, “is the stage name of seika. this one,” he points at a girl with a halo of curls and loads of freckles. “and melody is the stage name of yumi, who is this.” he is now looking at a rather plain but sweet looking girl.

he pulls his glasses on and looks closer. “i think i've seen them before.”

“yeah no shit you've seen them before, they're literally japan's pride,” mutters satoru. “anyways. this, is siren. also known as the celestial beauty siren, her actual...” he goes on, his eyes lighting up as he talks about this siren.

kento looks at the picture. and well. he knew next to nothing about your singing capabilities but looks wise, they weren't joking around when they named you siren. and to make it even more accurate the public called you celestial beauty siren. the picture is of you smiling up at him, like you knew exactly what you were.

“so what exactly do you want me to do?” he asks, giving the phone back.

“i need all of them here, so you'll have to make some phone calls. at the moment, melody and mirage are allegedly MIA but i need you to be a hundred percent sure first. best case scenario we're getting all three. worst case scenario we're getting just one and in this case it's siren. we- ”

“wouldn't the worst case scenario be that we're getting none? and if they're broken up i doubt some company's launch party will be on their list of things to care about.”

“well!” satoru claps, “good thing we're not just some company! we're infinity hotels! we're limitless, and if you work hard enough- ”

“we work hard enough”

“you work hard enough, there isn't a chance that we're getting none of 'em! come on kento, you can do it!”

“why is this suddenly no longer a group project?”

“oh it is a group project, yes yes,” satoru nods sagely. “between you and megumi that is.”

kento tsks and steps back, looking up and down at satoru and his audacity that seems to have grown ten feet taller than him. at least he has the decency to look embarassed.

“i am the cfo of this company. so why, pray tell, would i be tasked to snoop around the well concealed affairs of some pop girl group with your assistant who's barely out of university?”

satoru wrings his hands. “i'm too busy, and there's no way to do all this without them finding out! it's not the same as inviting any regular celebrity especially considering all the strings i pulled to get confidential information! if it's not a meeting with ten boring senior citizens that fret over the same bullshit, it's date nights with- date nights, or my family being on my ass about something or the other, or trying and failing to bond with the girls- ”

“you just had to open your stupid mouth and ask if they could be returned to the kennel the moment you met them, didn't you?”

“how the fuck could i have known that they were forced to live in a literal cage?”

“oh imagine that. how bizarre it is that every child on this planet wasn't born with a silver spoon in their mouth and five maid servants to run around after them.”

“exactly, and now they're getting to wear miu miu and party with the closest things we have to magical girls in real life. they'll think i'm amazing, we all win.”

kento rubs his temple, feeling the beginning of a dull headache.

“fine. which ones are their favourite,” he sighs, hoping to reach the end of this conversation. he's going to be having the leftovers and ordering in tonight, he assures himself .

“i got nothing,” shrugs satoru.

“they're just three girls, which one do they talk about the least?”

“ehhh,” he says, tilting his head to the side, pulling a face. “they kinda stop talking whenever i'm around and just glare at me till i leave.”

“okay, then ask megumi to ask them.”

“he's blocked on every platform.”

“then ask suguru!”

“and how would that come up naturally in a conversation? and i don't want him to have the slightest clue about all this, i can't just ask suguru!”

“ask me what?”

the two men whip their heads to the sound of the deep yet silky voice coming from the doorway. geto suguru stands, leaning against the frame. his eyes move from satoru to kento to satoru again. he's in the usual work attire, except his hair is down, and the necklaces he usually keeps tucked into his shirt hangs out in front. he purses his lips and folds his arms. he clears his throat. “ask me what?” he repeats, sounding less... breathy this time.

“nothing,” chokes out satoru.

it's amazing how much he's effected. even the greatest liars seem to fall short at their game.

suguru turns to kento instead. “kento?”

“if you were willing to review some of the reports with me. the workload's been piling up recently, and i thought it would be more effecient if we had an extra pair of eyes to clarify some things.”

suguru's eyes widen. “of course! just send them over tomorrow morning. and satoruuu...” he drags out his name, eyes sliding to the other man, who's been standing in silence. “why couldn't you ask me, huh?”

satoru straightens immediately, pulling an easy grin. “wouldn't wanna bother you, late night and all. that would be unprofessional.”

“it's hardly unprofessional to come ask me for help. especially when kento here is burning the midnight oil too, isn't he? come talk to me next time, yeah? both of you,” he adds at the end, to kento too.

kento would rather they beat him to death with a bat than drag him into whatever perverse flirtation this is.

“all right then. i'll send over the reports tomorrow morning. now if that's all, i'm going to head out.” satoru's hands still clutching kento's briefcase are limp enough for him to snatch it away from him. he gives satoru a sharp nod.

“good night kento!" wishes suguru warmly as he passes him at the doorway.

a “good night” sits at the tip of his tongue. he turns to face suguru and pulls on a smile. "you've put on satoru's blazer instead, by the way. good night."

the quick blink of suguru's otherwise relaxed purple eyes is a small win. he leaves before he hears whatever suguru has to say.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n

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screams-in-writing · 2 days

Text

Suit coat and starsss

A snippet below; I couldn’t help myself.

“Are you certain this outfit is truly necessary?” Mr. Puzzles asked. “Isn’t my usual attire fine for this ‘party’?”

“What do you mean? The get together is less than an hour!” You wondered, turning to face the man. “Does the clothing not fit or…or…” You trailed off into silence, question left unfinished, when you caught sight of the clothing in question. Your gaze focused, raking up and down, then more slowly. The white pants were a stark contrast to what Puzzles normally wore. It wasn’t lost on you that his hat, on on each boot (oh dear help they were knee highs) and one on the inside of the tail coat that showed when the man turned.

“It is too much, isn’t it?” Mr. Puzzles fidgeted with his bow tie, then brushed down his shorter warm grey-golden vest with gold buttons that paired with the hidden dress shirt and tailcoat. Upon no answer, he self-consciously adjusted the way the tail coat fit over his shoulders. Then, Puzzles’ hand went up to the top hat he’d either put over (or in place of) his usual bowler hat, as his metal antenna stuck through it. “Or is it this? It put the outfit together, but I feel like it is perhaps much too formal for this party, or ‘get together’, as you put it-”

“It’s perfect.” You managed to breathe out.

“Hm?” Mr. Puzzles caught on quickly; he placed a splayed hand to his chest beneath the bow tie as a sly grin appeared on his screen. His voice dropped lower, even if it was just to utter an ‘oh?’ of pure satisfaction. “My, my.” Mr. Puzzles added, as he sauntered over closer and leaned in close to roll a purr into his voice alongside your head. “Such flattery will get you everywhere, my dear.” A quieter whisper, a hint of static as Puzzles’ expression changed out of your view. “You look quite stunning yourself, I must say. What a pair we’ll make today!”

You needed a hole to open up beneath your feet right now.

Mr. Puzzles moved the side of his metal head to gently press to the side of yours.

Oh no.

He was going to be more insufferable and attention seeking tonight after that compliment.

“Why so worried?” Mr. Puzzles practically oozed confidence as he slipped an arm around yours to hook elbows as he slyly added. “Hearing you say such compliments…I do so enjoy receding them from you. But in the meantime, shall we go enjoy that party?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You needed to get the upper hand again before Puzzles began trying to recite poetry at the get together for you in front of everyone in a showy way than when he was more genuine when it was just the two of you. Turning again, and patting his left arm around your right, you both urge Mr. Puzzles to lean down while you rose up on your toes to plant a kiss to the lower side of his metal head. A slight static crackle could be heard so near to his screen. A glance to the side allowed you a glimpse of what you thought were heart eyes and a heartbeat monitor flash across his face.

Mr. Puzzles faced coward for a moment before he craned his head down to press the lower half of his screen to your forehead. He let it linger there a moment, before Puzzles made a a dramatic kissing sound, and straightened. He looked inordinately pleased with himself as he observed your flushed face.

The joke was on him, however, as Mr. Puzzles’ face held a blush as his digital eyes focused on yours.

A beat of silence.

“You know, my dear, we could always skip the party.”

“If we don’t show up for at least a little while, Smg4 will think you kidnapped me again.”

“Rude! I only did that because Smg3’s bombs were about to go off right next to you!”

“And I appreciate the save, as disorienting as it was.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Mario made a sudden appearance. There was a great big smile partially hidden beneath that bushy mustache, the italian plumber’s smile spreading all the way to his eyes and crinkling the skin at the edges. “Mario’s thinking that he’s a interrupting something?”

It was funny to see how irate Mr. Puzzles became in Mario’s presence as Puzzles used his free arm to gather you to him. It was as if he thought the shorter man was going to whisk you away.

“Es-em-gee-four said you brought something for the party?” Mario prompted out of the blue.

“The scrupt!” Funny, how quickly Mr. Puzzles went full-on dramatic drama queen as he gasped loudly. “What a disaster!” Puzzles inhaled shortly as he let go of you entirely to place his hands to either side of his metal head. “I’ll be right back!” The man promptly retreated into his mind, leaving his metal head behind.

“The script is already with Smg4, isn’t it?” You snickered, addressing Mario, who was eying Puzzles head as of considering turning it on to some channel to watch. But when you spoke to him, blue eyes and the not-so-hidden smile spoke of mischief.

“Might have left that part out.” Mario admitted, before his smile softened and he teased you. “TV man really likes-a you, doesn’t he?” Then, before you can answer, he added. “You like him too.” A pause, then Mario gestured over to where Luigi and a few others were chatting as they walked along the path toward the showgrounds. “Want to see the castle decorations while TV Man runs around frantically-a looking for you?”

That you wanted to see.

You really shouldn’t, but who could resist spending time with Mario? The man was hilarious and so far was surprisingly aware of the fact that you couldn’t get up to anything too crazy in this world.

But for now?

You couldn’t help but snicker as you followed after Mario while he hummed a familiar tune; the two of you raced past Luigi and Saiko, looking like a pair misbehaving kids while taking a shortcut to the showgrounds.

Mr. Puzzles made a reappearance not too long after, static buzzing out of his speakers as he harrumphed over what happened and the fall that damned plumber had luring you off to do who knew what stupid shenanigans.

#mr puzzles smg4 #screams in writing doodles things #screams in writing writes #mario is a terrible influence #like to think he does dumb things but is smart when it counts #he totally would be a wingman in return for tv time #writing snippet #may or may not be in fic #mr puzzles x reader #smg4 mario

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wonbin-truther · 1 day

Text

four. stress fracture (noun) break in the bone caused by overuse or repeated pressure

the gym buzzed with the squeak of sneakers and the roar of cheers as your team stepped onto the court. adrenaline surged through you, a grin spreading across your face as you waved to the crowd filling the tall bleachers. the electric energy in the air had you floating until ningning’s sharp voice cut through the noise, snapping you back to reality.

"alright, warm-ups from practice! y/n, you good to rotate?" ningning called out, eyes fixed on you. the rest of the team followed her lead, looking your way.

you flashed a playful smile and stood up straight, throwing a mock salute. "yes, captain!" it had become a bit of an inside joke, ever since she was appointed captain. ningning shot you a warning glare, but you knew she wasn’t really annoyed.

"alright, let’s go. you’ve got 15 minutes, then we’re moving to serves!" she ordered.

as the team dispersed, you felt a hand gently grip your arm. turning around, you saw the coach standing there. "miss l/n, come with me for a moment," she said quietly. you followed her, nodding.

"are you sure you’re ready to play today?" she asked, concern etched on her face. you nodded firmly. "yes, coach. I’ve been sticking to my physical therapy, and the trainer says I’m good to go."

she didn’t look entirely convinced but sighed, relenting. "alright, just remember not to push yourself too hard. we can’t afford to lose our best player."

“what do you even know about women’s volleyball?” taerae asked, glancing at gunwook as they made their way into the stands.

"absolutely nothing,” gunwook replied with a grin. “but who am i to turn down free tickets.”

“im actually looking forward to this,” matthew said with a wide smile. “thanks, gunwook.”

"you just want to ogle the players," ricky teased, giving matthew a light shove.

before matthew could respond, jiwoong returned, balancing snacks in his arms. "im back!" he announced, handing popcorn to gunwook and matthew, and giving ricky his bottle of water. "did it start yet?"

taerae shook his head, his eyes fixed on the teams practicing serves across the court. “no, not yet. but what’s that girl doing?” he pointed to a smaller player sprinting across the court, diving to receive the serves.

“oh, that’s neo city's libero, I think. ln yn?” gunwook said thoughtfully. “i did a photoshoot with her once.”

jiwoong pulled out his phone and handed it to taerae. "here, check the roster." taerae scrolled through, noting each player's number and position.

as they all looked up, the sharp sound of the referee’s whistle echoed through the gym, signaling the start. both teams lined up in front of the net, ready for the match to begin.

“you okay?” karina asked, concern lacing her voice as she patted your back. you leaned forward, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“just… give me a minute,” you panted, standing up slowly, wincing as you tried to put weight on both ankles. the throbbing pain surged through your leg, but you forced a smile and nodded toward the coach, who was walking up to the line.

“im fine!” you called out, pushing yourself back into position.

tsuki tossed the ball to you, her eyes filled with worry. “you sure?”

“i got it,” you lied, giving her a quick nod.

“serve!” natty shouted, glancing over her shoulder to check on you.

you gave a weak thumbs-up, hiding the pain as best you could. you jumped, feeling your muscles scream in protest. the moment your feet hit the ground, a searing pain shot up your leg.

taerae gripped the sides of the sink, his knuckles turning white. “not now,” he muttered through clenched teeth, pain pulsing up his leg with every attempt to put his foot down.

he inhaled sharply as the sharp, stabbing sensation shot through him again, his legs trembling beneath him. tears threatened to spill over as he struggled to straighten up, every step feeling like it would send him crashing to the floor.

previous - main - next

summery! taerae has been a well established model but his soulmate is making it pretty damn hard to land a job lately when they're constantly getting a bump or bruise or every time your soulmate receives an injury, the other person also receives it

taglist! @i05wook @jakahbot @dwcljh @rikisluv @renjunsversion @alwayswook @yuma-is-mine @kaynunu @gyvnexe @wonaoi @cyberstephzz @nonononranghaee @p07wer @onlyhyunjin @evnncy @p-d1ddy @woongiez @darlingz99 @httphera @ilovekimhongjoong @ksywoo

#taerae smau #taerae drabbles #zb1 taerae #zerobaseone taerae #taerae imagines #taerae x reader #kim taerae #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 smau #zerobaseone smau #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 drabbles

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prettypinkporkchop · 2 days

Text

My my those eyes like fire

You put the meat inside the zip lock bag and put it in your purse. You are ready to go back out into the woods and see your wolf friend.

One day, you were in the woods upset about something when this gray wolf befriended you. At first, you were scared of the gigantic creature. But, you realized he's so kind to you. Every day, you go out there, hang out with him, and feed him.

He has become your only friend since you've lost your best friend in an accident. You two moved together to start over when tragedy struck. Now you're alone and grieving.

You get deep enough in the trees to where you know he will be. You place down your bag and cross your legs, waiting.

It doesn't take long when you hear a happy whimper and running. You turn, and the wolf is right in front of you, licking your face. You play your hands in the beautiful fur and laugh.

"Okay, okay!"

He sits down next to you, leaning into your arm. You softly pet his head and reach into your bag. His ears perk up, and he looks to see a big thing of meat.

You place it in front of him, and he starts eating it.

"So crazy my only friend is a beautiful wolf." You sigh and then scratch its back. "But I don't mind. I know you won't hurt me." You smile.

The wolf finishes eating and lays its head in your lap. You play with its ears and run your fingers through his neck. He seems to love it as he's trying to keep his eyes open.

"Maybe I should name you?" You giggle.

The wolf opens its eyes, stands in front of you, and keeps his dark brown eyes on yours. Every time you look into this big boys eyes, you feel a connection. You don't have room at home for a whole ass wolf! And Forks probably has a law for that, lol.

"How long can we sit out here today, huh?" You ask as if it would answer. But you always leave when he does.

The wolf places its pay on your knee. You put your hand over the paw. Then, a howl is heard. Followed by another one. The wolf backs away, running a bit forward, howling back, and then runs away.

You stand up, dust off your pants, and go back home.

------

You just got off work, and now you're back in the woods. Hopefully, the wolf will come see you at this time. It's only during the day that you two visit. But right now, you don't want to be home. You're scared of the dark and being alone in the woods, but at this very moment, you just want to not hurt anymore.

You plop down on the ground and start crying. You hope he comes to you.

You end up falling asleep.

"Wake up." A deep voice in your head says.

You jolt awake and notice the gray wolf is lying next to you. When you woke up, it woke him up. He lifts his head and whimpers.

"I'm okay." You sniffle and cuddle into him. But once you do that, he gets up and looks at you.

"What?" You ask.

He stomps his feet and huffs.

"Oh, you're right. I should be in bed, huh?" You giggle and stand up. You start to walk out of the forest but see he is behind you.

"AWE, my guardian." You keep walking, and he doesn't leave your side.

You get home, and he runs off.

"Bye, friend." You mutter.

-----

Another day in the woods, it's a different time like yesterday. You're feeling awfully cold. You feel like you aren't alone, but maybe you're just tripping. It's okay, wait for the wolf.

A hand grips around your neck from behind. It was the coldest hand you've ever felt. It lifts you up and you meet piercing red eyes.

"Who are you?" She smirks at you.

Her grip is too tight for you to speak. Her long and curly red hair is blowing in the wind.

She breathes in, closing her eyes. She opens them and smirks at you.

"Wow, you smell so good."

Your eyes start getting blurry due to your breathing being constricted.you see tiny black dots.

"Victoria, put her down, now." You hear in the distance.

You're dropped to the ground, coughing. You look up and see three different wolves chasing her down.

You sit, trying to compose yourself when the familiar wolf sits next to you. His paw reaches up and softly lands on your back. You lean into him on instinct and cry. The wolf huffs, leaving behind the trees. You hear rustling, and you stare up at the high rocks and trees. Soon, a young man that you find to be the most attractive person ever steps out and looks down at you. (THE GIF ABOVE IS WHAT YOU SEE PLZ SAVE ME).

Before you can say anything, a few howls are heard. He looks back down and then runs off.

-----

You sit on your porch, drinking some wine, thinking about everything that just happened. If only you could call your best friend to tell her.

Your glass is empty, and grab the wine bottle next to you. You move the little bit left at the bottom. "No wonder I'm so tipsy." You sigh.

"You know it's never good to drink that much." You jump and look up to see the guy in the woods. He walks closer to your porch, putting one foot on the step and looking down at you.

You scoff and look down. "Did you see what happened back there?"

"I did. Are you okay?" He sits.

"I guess. I'm just so confused. So over it." You sigh.

"We killed her. She uh.. that was a vampire. Her name is Victoria."

You laugh in distress and nod your head, "Yeah let's keep adding on to crazy. Wolves and vampires?" You down the last bit of the bottle.

"I'm Embry. I'm the wolf. Every day I had to see you." He looks into your eyes.

You realize he wasn't lying because of his eyes. It's the wolf. You feel how he makes you feel.

"That's embarrassing. You know everything about me."

"No, it's not embarrassing." He moves up the steps, sitting on the porch beside you.

You sigh and lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm so tired." You sniffle.

He reaches over, holding your cheek. "Y/n, is it a good time to tell you something life changing?"

"As if my life hasn't already changed. Go ahead." You wrap your arms, pulling on his neck so your head moves closer toward his neck.

His scent is relaxing you. You feel genuine love for Embry. You don't want him to go. You're so happy that he's not just a wolf.

"I imprinted on you."

------

A FEW DAYS LATER:

Embry wraps you tighter in your blanket, holding onto you as if you could disappear. You love falling asleep with him. You love him. He loves you.

His warmth fills you up and you lift your head up looking into his eyes.

It feels like fire staring back at you. You lift your hand, touching his chin.

"Are you about to kiss me?" He asks, looking over your face and bringing his gaze down to your lips.

You slowly nod your head and lean in. He leans in, too. Next thing you two know, the gap is gone. His lips fit in yours. You push further and add your tongue. He plays with his tongue as you two mix saliva.

You throw your blanket off of you, half of it hanging off your bed. You quickly straddle his waist and hold his face.

He breathes heavily, and your heart speeds up. You want all of Embry. You want to be one.

You notice he's scared to touch you as if you're going to break like glass. You grab his hands and lower them to your bottom. He softly squeezes before flipping you over, making him on top. He smiles down at you, chuckling.

"I love you. Like... a lot. Is that weird?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"No, because I love you."

-----

You stand next to Bella and Edward. Your mind racing as Edward enters the wolves minds.

"Embry's doing good. He's very good." He says.

Riley slowly walks up, making you and Bella jump back.

"Seth! Take her!" Edward yells.

Seth steps to you, and you jump on his back. He doesn't waste a second to start running at full speed, taking you away as Embry requested.

Seth and you sit in the woods. He shifted back to boy Seth. You two sit next to each other, picking grass.

"Sucks, I can't be in the action. But I'm glad you're safe." He nudges you.

"Yeah, it's weird that I was a target, too. It's not like I have anything to do with Bella and Edweird." You giggle.

"It's because she saw you and then wanted to attract us. Wipe us out with the Cullens. Like, okay, I do not care about your drama. Sorry, your boyfriend died?" Seth, and you burst into laughter.

-----

You grab Embry's shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Your room is cold, but now you feel Embry's temperature.

His hands grab onto your arms, keeping you in place and kissing you back.

He won. You won.

#Spotify #twilight #embry call #jacob black #paul lahote #jared cameron #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #quil ateara #embry call x reader

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chaotic-goodsir · 21 hours

Text

'Stop it, Kal. I can't heal you like this.'

What's left of Kal's corporeal form grumbles loudly, but he leans into Dakkar's side and stops disintegrating quite so fast. His hand clutches the back of Dakkar's shirt for support, nails digging through the fabric. 'Ugh, my head.'

'You need to sit down.' Dakkar says, attempting to guide him over to the slope of the hillside. Kal collapses with all the grace of a rag doll, still half a shifting cloud of fog.

'Why don't you stop playing nanny and just heal me already?'

'I can't when there's only half of you there to heal!'

'Ugh, fine!' The fog pulls itself back into a relatively Kal-like shape. Features re-emerge slowly - the other half of Kal's face, bruised around the jaw; his left shoulder and arm, hanging limp at a painful looking angle. He grits his teeth, and Dakkar winces in sympathy.

'That looks like it hurts.'

'Really?' Kal rolls his eyes, all sarcasm. 'I hadn't noticed.'

'You're a terrible patient.'

'Oh, my apologies, your highness. It's hard to be polite when your arm's hanging out of its socket.'

'Here,' Dakkar moves in front of him, puts one hand on his left wrist and another firmly on his shoulder, ignoring the hiss of protest. 'Hold still. And don't disintegrate again, you'll mess it up.'

A faint, warm glow forms around Dakkar's hands, brightening as he closes his eyes. Carefully, he lets the magic shift the bones of Kal's arm back to where they ought to be. Kal is oddly quiet, for once. When Dakkar opens his eyes again, he's looking at him with a kind of awe. It's quickly hidden behind a satisfied smirk.

'Better?' Dakkar asks.

'No. My head's still killing me. When we get back, I need a drink.'

'A thank you would be nice, for once. And you probably shouldn't drink while you might be concussed.'

'Ways, you're boring, Dak.' Kal tests out his newly-healed arm, flexing his hand a few times, then falls back against the grass. 'Alright, fine. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.' Dakkar says, sitting down beside him.

'Sorry I get into pointless fights so often. They deserved it, though. Bastards.'

'I think if you're the one who needs healing, they technically won the fight.'

'Eh, depends on your perspective.'

'What did they say?' Dakkar's pretty sure he can guess, but he feels the need to ask anyway. Kal scowls. Tendrils of fog still swirl around him, only just visible in the bright daylight. It's like Radiance, he explained once, but harder to control. Dakkar's never asked if it's draining in the same the way the Magic Ways are.

'Nothing worth talking about. They're too scared of me now to say it again.' he shuts his eyes, grimacing. 'It's too bright out here. My head hurts, did I mention that at all?'

Dakkar laughs. 'We can go inside, if you think you can walk?'

'My dear old dad used to say, 'walking is for people without hereditary curses that let them turn into fog.''

'I thought you never met your dad.'

Kal waves a hand. 'Well, he probably said something like that. How would I know?'

He sits up, and the tendrils swirling around him darken, forming a mist that coils itself around his body. When it settles, there's no one sitting on the hillside - only a shifting cloud of fog where Kal used to be.

Even after years of knowing Kal, watching him do that is still unnerving. Dakkar's not sure about the effects a possible concussion might have, either, but Kal seemed fine, and the fog looks same as it usually does.

He can't think of anything to say, and it's not as if he'd get a reply, so he coughs awkwardly. Somewhere in that cloud, he has the feeling Kal is laughing at his discomfort.

'Okay,' he says eventually. 'I take it that means we're heading home?'

In answer, the fog drifts over, settling around his shoulders like a cloak. As he heads back in the direction of the palace, it follows, dark against the bright white of his uniform.

#what if kal always had the fog powers what then?#been having some thoughts so here's this #dakkal #coin flip #coinflip #pulp musicals #pulp musicals spoilers #the searcher in the shadows spoilers #the searcher in the shadows #dakkar pulp musicals #kalfu pulp musicals #cw injury

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lefthvnded · 4 months

Text

i hate when white people ask you to teach them the moves to a dance when the instructions are in the song

like i cannot tell you how to "slide to the left" with more soul, if you can't get that on your own you're out of luck

wym teach you how to dougie

megan said "hands on my knees shaking ass"

"what do I do"

put your hands on your knees and jiggle your long lower back girl leave me alone

#like they say put your arms out front lean side to side #just do that #like i get that the eletric slide doesn't have instructions but that's so daggone old it's barely going to make this post #and i'm thinking of specific repeat offenders #i'm not talking casual encounters when random groups get together at like a wedding even then I don't like that but that's a separate thing #i'm talking the same 5 white people that are friends of friends of friends trying repeatedly to get me to hand them permission to be #rhythm-less in my presence #look up a tutorial on youtube and leave me alone

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painted-bees · 1 year

Text

A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte

[OC's]

(image description under the cut)

[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.

(First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."

(Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.

(Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.

(Fourth panel): The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.

(Fifth panel): Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.

(Sixth panel): The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."

(Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”

(Eighth panel): Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain. But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"

(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."

(Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.

(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"

(Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."

(Thirteenth panel): The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."

(Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks. Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]

This description was written and provided by Hiwi.

#sketch #comic #Hi-Note #magritte #rafael

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rileyslibrary · 8 months

Text

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fluff

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chastiefoul · 8 months

Text

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

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d1stalker · 26 days

Text

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it.

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look.

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

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