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#lilac is trying her best <3
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hey y'all! so the other day i was fucking around and found a website that lets you play mario kart on ur laptop. (It's called Mario kart PC) there's also an option for a online private game that holds up to 8 people. that being said. would y'all be interested in possibly trying to fuckin. play a round of Mario kart together
as for how it works like. from what I've seen to do online play you need to make an account but it's just a username and password, email optional, no payment or any personal info needed. the controls are very different bc like you aren't using a wiimote or anything but not too difficult to figure out. if you've never played Mario kart before you should be fine once you get a hang of controls <3
scheduling this would be a whole thing but like. only if people are ACTUALLY interested
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seungcheorry · 3 months
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when seungcheol opens the front door of your house, it seems like everything is upside down. the living room looks like a mess with your daughter's toys all spread out - he was kind of guilty about this, i mean, she didn't really need that many toys to play with.
the kitchen is filled with vegetables all over the counter, kkuma is cutely on two paws as she tries to reach it; if only she was human sized, maybe she could...
and lastly, seungcheol could hear your daughter crying all the way from her bedroom, with your desperate pleas also being heard, asking her to calm down a bit.
"what's wrong?", he asks the moment he steps into the lilac colored bedroom.
"appa~", your daughter runs to him, hugging his legs with all the strength she has.
"hey, baby. why are you crying?"
as seungcheol picks her up, you sigh - half in relief, half in frustration. you really wanted to do something nice for seungcheol, especially when he does so much for you, so you tried your best to make a proper dinner, clean around the house, give kkuma a bath, but all these things are extremely hard when you have an hyperactive 3 years old who's, by the way, the biggest daddy's girl to ever exist.
"she keeps asking for mr. cuddles, but won't accept it when i give it to her", you gesture to the plushie you have on your hand.
"babe... it's because that's not mr. cuddles", seungcheol tries to bite back a laugh. "that's giggly, the tiger plushie soonyoung gave it to her on her last birthday. mr. cuddles is the panda plushie i bought her two months ago, remember?"
seungcheol walks with his daughter hanging on his neck to her closet, opening and reaching for mr. cuddles on the top shelf.
"i put it here this morning because kkuma was trying to get it, i'm sorry", and as he hands the toy to your daughter, you're not really sure who he's talking to, you or her.
"thank you, appa", your daughter kisses his cheek.
"you're welcome, baby girl~"
if you didn't love them so much, with all your heart, forever, to death - you would perhaps roll your eyes at the scene.
"why does she have to be such a daddy's girl? i literally carried her for 9 months!"
"aw, it's okay, babe. you're daddy's girl too."
"seungcheol!", you almost scream, but the bastard just smirks at you.
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a/n: inspired by one of @cxffecoupx's headcanons about dad girl!seungcheol. please check it out, they're amazing. ❤️🍒
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Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,
Word Count: 5.2K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.
But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.
Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.
Guess not.
You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.
The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.
Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.
An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.
A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.
But you didn't love him any less.
He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.
"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"
He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.
I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.
"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"
Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.
His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.
"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."
Bean purrs in agreement.
You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.
It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.
"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.
You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…
Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.
And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.
You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-
NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.
"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.
"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.
Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.
"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."
"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"
"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."
"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."
Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.
You open your mouth to apologize.
"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.
"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.
He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.
Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.
Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.
Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.
"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.
You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.
The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?
"You can wait in the hall-"
"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"
You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.
"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.
"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.
"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"
"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."
"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."
"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."
"What? No I meant-"
Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.
You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?
Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.
Traitor.
"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.
"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."
He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."
"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."
"Bean? Why?"
"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."
"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"
"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."
"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."
"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.
"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."
"I'm not a fan of One Direction."
"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.
Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"
He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."
"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.
"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"
He noticed that?
"How long exactly were you following me?"
"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."
"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."
Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.
That felt good.
After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-
He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.
"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.
"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"
His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"
"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him.  Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-
No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.
“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.
“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something. 
Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green. 
“There’s nothing little about me doll.” 
“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal. 
It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.
It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there. 
He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head. 
And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.
Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes. 
I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen. 
You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip. 
Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him. 
Guess he's not a fan.
 “If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”
“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”
“Keep dreaming.”
His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”
You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him. 
“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.
“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body. 
 The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.
You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform. 
Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand. 
He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid. 
You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.
It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.
He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.
“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.
That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.
But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.
Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window. 
But why? Why only around me?
The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-
Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was. 
You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.
Shit.
"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.
Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.
“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”
“Soldier Boy?”
“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”
At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-
Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”
The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.
It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.
Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.
When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.
But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.
You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.
Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…
Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.
“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.
You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.
“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”
Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.
“Hello-“
“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.
“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.
Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.
“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.
“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.
“Nothing happened-“
“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”
“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”
“What do you mean sweetheart?”
“You just had to follow me home!”
“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”
“I do it all the time!”
“Not anymore.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”
"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"
"I think you do-"
"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.
"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.
Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.
Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!
You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.
Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!
You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.
"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.
"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.
The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.
"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.
"I thought you were joking."
"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.
"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.
"What?"
"It's prettier when it's down."
"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."
"What?"
"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."
"You could give me yours-"
"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.
“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“
“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."
Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.
“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”
Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”
Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.
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Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)
(Photos for series picture found on Pinterest)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard
@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb
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irndad · 6 months
Note
if you’re still doing flower prompts i’d love either Rainflower or Purple Lilac with spencer <3
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a/n: heyyyy im alive! writing from my trip, love you guys, don't know the wc! flower prompts
Rainflower - realizing that you/they love them/you back
It comes on all at once. 
Spencer- he’s never been particularly good at knowing when he’s feeling romantic. There wasn’t any experience with it. He knows that he’s hardly anyone’s dream guy- all awkward gangly limbs, too tall and too full of information that no one wanted to hear.
He’s carved out a little corner of the world that he can be seen in, that he can be loved in- but he’s never really been under the notion that someone could want him. Spencer knows that he’s lucky to have even this- to have people that ignite the prickly and irritating parts of himself and love him despite about this. And while he might fantasize, daydream about a life where he can lace his long fingers with those of someone who sees him only in a loving gaze of joy, Spencer knows that he’s not the kind of person that gets that. He’s being rational about it- most days, he’s able to relegate this desire to be filled with fantasy. 
Except- something has been up lately.
His best friend is probably the best person that he’s ever met in his life. She’s a consultant with the BAU, and it’s been nice to know her, in so many ways. She’s funny and kind in a way that never seems to have a victim. Spencer is not the kind of person that particularly values physical beauty, but she possesses it in such a large margin that it is difficult to ignore. He’s actually distracted by it sometimes, having to take extra mental attention to her words when all he is drawn to is the lovely curve of her Cupid’s bow, and the both light and heavy weight of her gaze in him. I like when you look at me, he thinks. She never makes him feel small. 
When they’d met, he was reluctant to her presence in most regards. Spencer knows that when he is focused, he can be a solitary creature, and that he’s an acquired taste. But she never seemed to need time to acclimate to him. From her first day, she listened to him when he spoke, and god, she squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him. 
She never had to try to like him. He was never a concession to her. 
This morning, she is late to work. He tries not to time it, but he enjoys the ritual of his mornings far more when he’s with her. He makes her tea and greets her first thing, and she asks about his evening the day prior. He tells her about whatever foreign film or Russian book he read the night before, a little too earnestly. She listens with her lovely doe eyes, sipping slowly as she transitions into her day. It doesn’t feel like patience with her- it feels like she actually cares what he has to say. Their routine is a warm radio crackle of familiarity, his favorite part of his day.
But she’s late today.
When she walks in, she’s a little frazzled and  so, so, adorable. She’s in a T-shirt that looks so familiar to him, and a pair of jeans that look lovely on her pretty legs. It’s a pleasure, looking at her. He wish he had more time to do it, wants to leisurely drink in the sight of her like he has all the time in the world, it never feels long enough to look.
Her hair’s frazzled and she’s just about 5 minutes late- Hotch hasn’t even come out of his office yet, but she’s clearly nervous.
“You’re okay,” he hears himself say, as she plunks down her bag on the desk, “I have your tea.” 
He doesn’t expect her to look up, but she does. She looks up at him and beams, and Spencer- his heart swells. She grabs the cup, dainty pretty fingers wrapped around the curve of it, and she beams her so-sweet smile at him, and god, his knees might buckle. Has it always been this way? 
He drinks in the sight of her, as she runs a hand through her hair in a worried, incredibly endearing gesture. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He wonders aimlessly, that she might have been meeting with a man this morning. It might be the explanation for the dishevelment. 
The burning bit in his chest this causes is one that lacks explanation. It hurts in a way that he cannot explain- she is not a realistic dream for him to have. It’s not like he’s never thought about the idea of the two of them together. It’s a fleeting thought, like the consideration if your life if you could fly. It’s not a dream that warrants real consideration. 
But when their fingers brush, her light touch on his hand, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she wanted him.
“Thank you, Spence,” she says, warm voice dripping with gratitude and something in his heart warms at the nickname, “You’re my hero.”
She takes a sip of it, and closes her eyes in a contemplative, restful moment. It’s unfairly adorable.
He’s never actually thought about it, until this moment. But her beauty transcends just being pure fact, a thing to note about his reality. It would be nice, Spencer thinks. It hits him like a tidal wave, images of her gorgeous laugh washing over him on a Sunday morning, the curve of her cheek, a world where he can hold her by the dip of her waist, where her ever-present kindness meant that she might, could, maybe, love him.
Love him back.
She has whipped cream on her finger. She took the lid of the drink off to have the whipped cream. 
He is so, so fucked. 
“Have I told you that I love you today, boy-genius?” 
Even though she’s kidding, and he stammers out a reply of acknowledgment, it is in this moment he knows, with the certainty of every empirical journal he has ever read. 
Spence Reid is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. 
It’s still nice to want, though. 
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ferrstappen · 1 year
Text
the first one l Charles Leclerc imagine
a/n: so, I just KNOW Charles is a girl dad. I know three is his sweet spot, but idk if the boy would be the middle child or the youngest. what do you think? also, I'm working on requests and the collection pls trust me, but I'm a law student trying to hold my life together and not having a nervous breakdown every day &lt;3
this first piece of dad!Charles is from this request &lt;3
pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader.
genre: dad!Charles, fluff.
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, not proofread bc I don't have time for that shit.
summary: Charles tries to prepare to be the best dad for his daughter, even if she's just two days old.
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It wasn't fun being heavily pregnant.
Yes, the illusion and excitement of a baby coming to complete your family was an emotion neither you nor Charles had the proper words to explain. Friends and even strangers affirmed it was going to be the most magical moment of your life, that you wouldn't even be able to imagine life before your daughter.
But that wasn't relevant now, it was the furthest thing on your mind, sleep being the only thing remotely important at the moment, and it didn't seem to come as a faint light was coming from the opposite side of the bed.
Charles was shirtless, probably cold while slightly propped on some pillows, reading something on his Kindle, a small frown noticeable between his brows. He clearly was very concentrated on whatever he was reading, the only thing that made his attention shift was the light groan you let out. Of course Charles' instantly put his attention on you, the muscles on his neck showing with the fast movement.
"What happened? Are you okay?" He asked you, his eyes fixed on your figure, very carefully placing his hand on your swollen belly.
"No, I'm not okay because I can't sleep and I have to sleep since your daughter is sucking every bit of energy and space left on my body, and to make matters worse, the light of your kindle makes it impossible to sleep," You said with a pettish tone, but Charles wasn't fazed, after almost nine months he was used to the mood swings. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm being such a bitch I'm sorry," and before you could stop, tears started streaming down your face, and that gained a reaction from Charles.
"No no no no, chérie. It's okay, it's just the hormones, it's fine," He carefully rubbed your swollen belly, feeling how the baby moved relentlessly. "Why do you move when mama is trying to sleep, mignonne?" Charles asked his unborn daughter, knowing with certainty she was listening to him.
"Because she's your daughter, why else?" You answered and he laughed, playfully rolling his eyes. "What are you reading in there, anyways?" This time you placed your hand on his hair, knowing Charles loved the little touches of affection.
He sheepishly smiled, "It's this book I found about pregnancy and the first weeks of the baby," he answered with a quiet tone, likely waiting for you to mock him.
Instead, fresh tears started streaming down your face, again. Sending Charles into a panic, again. "No no no no, chérie!"
✨✨✨✨
The apartment looked like a mess, the baby had arrived just two days earlier and didn't have time to even think about cleaning the extremely spacious penthouse overlooking the ocean, only focused on the little lilac bundle sleeping on her crib.
Since you left the hospital in the morning, where you asked for privacy and to not have any visitors, friends were constantly texting if now was a good time to visit you and the adorable newborn. You could've sworn every person in Monaco had made their way inside your family home.
First it was Carmen and George, with Alex and Lily, with a gorgeous bouquet of lilies for you, and carrying a large Zara kids bag with multiple cashmere onesies and clothes that would probably last a couple of weeks since, as Charles read on his book, babies grow up "very fast". Charles got a pat on the back.
Then followed Fred, with a huge basquet for both you and Charles, courtesy of the entire Ferrari team, and lots of small Ferrari merchandise.
Fred wasn't even out the door when Carlos and Isa quietly made their way inside, now with a bouquet of pink roses and a gorgeous and timeless Louis Vuitton baby blanket. Again, Charles received a pat on the back from Carlos as you carefully placed your daughter on Isa’s arms.
Charles had the biggest dark circles you’d ever seen under his eyes, and you probably looked worse, dealing with the recovery of your own body after giving birth. Right when you thought you could take a nap, Max, Lando, Kelly and Penelope arrived.
Of course they tried to make a statement, with multiple balloons, Gucci and Burberry bags for the baby. Of course Max was a natural holding her, cautiously kneeling for Penelope to see her. Lando nervously laughed and the only thing he was able to say was "she's so tiny", telling you he'd hold her when she was a little bigger.
It was almost 3 PM when Charles forced you to lay down, reminding you of the stages of healing after giving birth as he read in the book. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep, waking up every ten minutes because, apparently, mother instincts didn't take very long to kick in. That's why you immediately woke up when you heard low voices, quickly recognizing the voices of your in-laws. Carefully getting up and trying to look presentable, you walked towards the nursery.
No one noticed you, both Arthur and Lorenzo enthralled by their niece while Pascale held her, whispering sweet nothings in French as her granddaughter placed her tiny hand around Pascale's thumb.
Then, Charles demeanor changed.
You could see it as soon as Pascale placed the baby in Arthur's arms. His back tensed and he stood straighter, instantly moving closer towards his younger brother.
"Arthur, you have to hold her head," Charles told off his brother, carefully placing Arthur's hand on the baby's head.
He still was standing closely and worried, hand on his chin while staring at his brother. "No, Arthur don't move your arm like that," Again, he fixed his brother's arm. "No, Arthur fix your stance, you need to hold her still," His breathing was getting faster and then he couldn't take it anymore.
Arthur was perfectly holding her, but Charles simply couldn't bare with the fact of his brother making a microscopic wrong move and something happening to his daughter, his mignonne, é carina.
"No, give her to me, you're doing everything wrong." Charles carefully took his daughter off Arthur's arms.
Ignoring Arthur's shocked face and Pascale's amused expression, everyone noticed how the baby nuzzled in her papa's arms, instantly yawning and moving her hands as if she was trying to reach him; Charles instantly relaxed, feeling her against his chest and knowing she was okay because she was with him.
"I'm sorry, Arthur. I think he's kind of overprotective," You said entering the room. Pascale immediately approached you, asking how you were feeling and how much pain you were in.
"Poor her, honestly. She's doomed to have Charles as her shadow forever, she won't be able to go to school or anything!" Lorenzo chimed in, making everyone laugh, except for Charles of course.
"You haven't told us her name! We've been calling her mini (Y/N)," Arthur asked, admiring his niece from afar.
The only reason Charles lifted his gaze was to find your eyes, which you took as the cue to take your place next to your family, resting your head on Charles' shoulder.
"Josephine. We are still thinking about the second, we're seeing if Jules fits," You announced, Charles giving a bright smile to his family.
"I'm thinking of Josephine Sofia Jules Gia Leclerc," Charles said. Everyone in the room looked at each other with curiosity.
"She is not having four names, Charles!" The answer came quickly from you, the tone revealing this wasn't the first time it was discussed.
"Okay then, three?"
Josephine, that's what's clear.
3K notes · View notes
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Follow You Anywhere 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: double chapter friday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 
You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 
As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  
“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 
He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 
As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 
“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 
You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 
You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 
Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 
“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 
His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 
If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 
You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 
“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 
The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 
“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 
“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 
“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 
He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 
“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 
He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 
“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 
You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 
A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 
You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 
“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 
You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 
“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 
“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 
“Right.” 
He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 
You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 
“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 
The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 
When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 
“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 
“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 
“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 
“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 
You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 
“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 
“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 
He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 
“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 
“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 
He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 
You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 
“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 
You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 
“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 
You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 
“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 
“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 
You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 
“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 
You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 
“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 
He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 
“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 
You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 
💜
When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 
Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 
“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 
“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 
“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  
You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 
“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 
“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  
“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 
“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 
You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 
“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 
You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 
“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 
“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 
“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 
“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 
“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 
“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 
“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 
He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 
Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 
238 notes · View notes
brittle-doughie · 1 year
Note
Top 10 most obsessive/possessive Cookies in your opinion, go! (excluding White Lily because she would be at the top lmao)
Bro, you did WL dirty lmao.
10. The Tears of the Ocean - Sea Fairy Cookie
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While not as easy to aggravate compared to the other Y/N Cookie club members, Sea Fairy is still a legendary and can easily sweep away competition if she chooses to. Fire Spirit is the only cookie she’ll be quick to get aggressive with.
9. Loyal Until the End - Caramel Arrow Cookie
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Being a watcher meant Caramel Arrow couldn’t bring herself to harm others so easily, she’s instead incredibly protective of you and WILL draw her bow at threats. Laying a hand on you is a sure fire way to catch a arrow from her. Affogato Cookie is on-sight.
8. Protective Judgement - Dark Cacao Cookie
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Like Watcher, like king. Dark Cacao will always have you by his side, he insists. There was something about you that he held dear, something that he needed to protect. He won’t tolerate any mistreatment from you, it’s a quick punishment for the perpetrator. You have your own spot in his quarters, it was a more preferable option to him then having your own room.
7. The Persistent Priestess - Pomegranate Cookie
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Pomegranate Cookie’s secondary objective is you, to bring you into the darkness. Your soul was nothing she’s seen before, it was pure, it…was precious. She’ll curse any cookie that gets in her way of having you on the same side, she’ll take anything from you that she can get, with or without your knowledge.
6. The Dancing Danger - Lilac Cookie
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Do not be surprised if the cookies you know start falling ill, it may be a sign that Lilac Cookie is watching. He’ll always say it’s for your protection, you never know when these cookies might turn on you, he’s just dealing with a problem before it becomes one. He’s only making them sick, it’s not like he’s straight up crumbling them….yet.
5. The Alluring Beauty - Kumiho Cookie
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Normal: Not really being affected by her charms made you a breath of fresh air to Kumiho Cookie, she took a major interest in you with this fact and will try whatever she can to get your attention. Just don’t mind the cookies around you missing their cookie livers, it just meant they were getting too close to you. :)
Heartbreak Route: Kumiho is much more persistent, she had never felt true love until you had been honest with her that day. It aches her heart to know that she passed on your feelings, believing it was because of her charms. She’s more volatile like this, taking any interaction you have with others as potential threats to her goal. Has particular dislike for Blueberry Pie Cookie.
4. Your Best Pal - Croissant Cookie
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She has stuck by your side since your first day at the TBD. Croissant Cookie was so happy to see you earn your honors as a handycookie, it meant that you two could spend time together as you fixed things alongside her engineering prowess. It…really blinded her to the fact that other cookies like Coffee Candy or Baguette Cookie had taken a liking to you too, something that she aims to fix by being your best and ONLY pal. Keeps you away from Timekeeper Cookie for obvious reasons.
3. His Only - Fire Spirit Cookie
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Fire Spirit Cookie has butted heads with Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie when it comes to you, he needed you more then they did. Fire Spirit..isn’t exactly that popular with other cookies, so having you as a friend was a godsend to him, that a cookie like you would want to associate with him. It’s something he treasures deeply, but tries to pass it off as him going easy on you. Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie can try all they want, but he’ll be extinguished before he’ll allow you to be pried from him.
2. Stinging Shock - Scorpion Cookie
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Lilac Cookie at least doesn’t end cookies right away and gives them a chance to regret their decision to be close to you, Scorpion Cookie…won’t be giving them that luxury. If she deems a cookie too much of a hassle, she’ll just remove them from the equation. By the time the cookie has realized what hit them, it will all be too late as she watches them crumble away…she dabbles in poisons, not cures after all. So cookies can have fun finding that cure, if there is any to begin with…
1. Baroness of the Sea - Black Pearl Cookie
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Normal Route: Why would Black Pearl Cookie want to sink a cookie so…precious looking? Normally, she’d have you at the bottom of the sea by now, but…she couldn’t bring herself to do this to you…what was this about you that has her feeling like this?! This confusion only makes her frustrated, so she’s keeping you with her until she can pinpoint this feeling. She hopes you enjoy your new home in the depths with her…
Heartbreak Route: “You hastily closed the door before locking it, you knew it would do little to protect you from her, but you needed all the security you could get. You avoided the window, there was no telling if you looked out that window, that two glowing eyes would be staring right back at you in the waters. You could hear the faint sound of crying in the distance, the waters were unhappy, she was unhappy. She knew you were here, it was why she hadn’t just annihilated the Lower City already. She was just waiting for the right opportunity to drag you into the darkness of the water’s depths with her…”
At least Black Pearl Cookie is limited by the water, if she wasn’t, she’d be a true cookie to fear for the readers
But since it wouldn’t complete the ensemble today, there’s at least one cookie that will stop at nothing, absolutely nothing, to make sure you’re hers.
You saw it coming
0. The Undying Flower - White Lily Cookie
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I had to do it to ya, I’m sorry Anon
Escape Difficulty: Impossible
You sealed your fate after spending time with White Lily Cookie regardless of AU, she’s your biggest cheerleader and unofficial girlfriend who’s quick to poison rivals at the mere chance of them getting friendly with you. She’s near impossible to lose and tends to just appear somewhere close by whether you’re on your own or with other cookies.
She’s an ancient cookie for a reason, few cookies will survive a fight against her, so it’s for the best that your so called “friends” back off from you before she taints their very strawberry jam.
Her only limitation is her other ancient friends, but they’re on thin ice before her paranoia gets to her and she joins in on the conversation. She has earned the title of Y/N Cookie cult leader for a reason.
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Chapter 3 - To Have and To Hold
A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)
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Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Weddings should be joyous occasions but the union of two families only brings about distant memories and yearning for a life that could have been. Stolen glances and longing stares across the room, and finally finding yourself face to face with the one person who can change the future.
18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)
CW: Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Pet names. Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Mutual pining. Angst. Lots of tension. Spousal abuse - reader is assaulted and choked.
WC: 5.9K
Days at the gallery quickly turned into long nights. Sometimes not going home until the wee hours of the morning. After the last few interactions with Nik you decided it was best to avoid him altogether.
He'd never set foot in here, for which you were grateful. It was your own oasis from a life that was suddenly so stifling, drowning you without a life preserver in sight.
It was easy enough, the two of you had been sleeping in separate bedrooms for a couple of years now.
You would rather take an acid bath than let him touch you. Sex became completely non-existent when he'd started coming home with lipstick stained collars and trying to push himself onto you knowing he'd just fucked God knows who else, any illusion of a loving, dedicated husband completely dissolved.
You hadn't seen or heard from Steve since the day he'd bought that painting. You found yourself wondering where he might have hung it. It was one of your favorites and knowing it went to a good home warmed your heart.
Abigail knocked you from your current train of thought when she walked over to you with a massive bouquet of white roses.
“Mrs. Petrov, these were just delivered for you, though the card says Ms. Alexander. An old client perhaps?” You shifted the flowers from her arms as she spoke, their delicate scent faintly surrounding you.
“Thank you.” You called out, already heading to your office.
You gently laid them down on the desk, plucking the card from between the soft petals.
You couldn't help the smile that crept across your face as you opened it to read the contents, already suspecting who they were from. No one else in this town would dare use your surname anymore.
Passed the flower shop and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day.
S.H.
You immediately looked for an empty vase in the storage closet to display them on your desk, hiding the card away in the bottom drawer.
It wasn't unusual for clients to send you flowers from time to time, so it didn't seem out of the ordinary.
Much to your delight, it didn't stop there. A fresh bouquet was delivered every few days from that point forward. Not just roses, something unique each time all accompanied with a personalized note signed S.H.
His small way of showing you he was still here while reluctantly maintaining his distance.
For two weeks the flowers and notes never ceased but you still hadn't seen Steve.
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There was a wedding slated for the weekend between two prominent families that you had to attend.
Finding yourself in need of a new dress, you were browsing the brightly lit showroom, admiring a very beautiful lilac colored floor length gown in the corner when he spoke.
“That's not your color. Much too pale. What about that one?” You rolled your eyes as he pointed to a deep red, lacey, eye-catching number across the store.
“It's for a wedding, Steven. The attention shouldn't be on me.” You quipped. “And that shows far too much skin.” Turning away, as you began to rummage through a few dresses on the rack.
“If you say so, but you're the only one I'll be looking at.” You stopped, hands stilling on the silk in front of you as you processed his words.
“You're going Saturday?” Managing to squeak out, despite the sudden lump in your throat.
It shouldn't really come as a surprise. All of the big named families had been invited. Maybe you were expecting Steve to be more like Richard in that regard. Send his well wishes but decline the invitation.
“Of course, Dove. Can't miss the wedding of the century. A Gambino marrying a Stratori? It's unheard-of.” He made a mock gasping sound that made you snort a small laugh.
“You should have seen the looks at my…” trailing off when you realized what you were about to say. It wasn't so long ago an Alexander marrying a Petrov was big news.
“Anyway, doesn't matter. I won't be going if I don't find something to wear.” Quickly changing the subject back to the matter at hand.
“Trust me, you'll look good in anything. Wear a potato sack and you’ll still be the most beautiful woman there.” His doting words and simple praises never let up when he was around you.
Your soft blushing and sweet smiles only encouraged him further, reminding him of the younger versions of you both. These moments he would hang onto for forever if need be.
You stared at him a moment, the way the sun filtering through the window cast a glow around him, appearing almost ethereal. His skin tanned by an Italian sun, making his freckles and moles only more prominent. Those same ones you would trace across his back, finding the constellations hidden within.
Your lips twitched at the thought of kissing those same marks, as a deeper blush crept your cheeks that had you quickly looking back to the dresses laid out before you, clearing your throat.
“Steve, I…” Mouth snapping closed when you weren't sure what you were attempting to say.
“What is it, tesoro?” Looking back at you expectantly, eyes soft, giving you his full attention.
“Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely, all of them, but you don't have to do that.” Your gaze drops momentarily as he regards you for a moment.
“Let me ask you something. Do they make you smile?”
“Well, of course.” A grin lifting the edges of your mouth you couldn't contain.
“Then yes, Dove. I have to send them. At least I know for one fleeting moment of the day I've had the pleasure of making you smile.”
You both stilled for a moment, silently gazing at one another.
“Excuse me? Can I help either of you?” One of the associates had walked over, interrupting the small moment.
You smiled at her, asking for a couple of dresses to try on in your size.
“Right away, Mrs. Petrov. And for you sir?” Looking back toward Steve, eyeing him up and down as she spoke. A small scowl of contempt passed over her momentarily, oblivious to who she was speaking to.
“Nothing for me today, thank you. I'll see myself out, momentarily.”
She nodded and walked toward the back to gather the dresses you had asked for.
“I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then.” Finally looking back to him, reluctantly getting ready to take your leave and follow her into the dressing room.
“Of course, Dove.” He says, leaning in close. “I still think the red would be a better choice.” Voice dropping an octave lower, winking as a shameless grin spread across his face.
His persistence had you fondly rolling your eyes, but a grin matching his own spread across your features.
“I think I'll find something a little less salacious but thank you for the suggestion.” Laughing as you walked away, a sound that was like music to his ears as he took his leave.
You glanced back once more, as you reached the back, but he was already gone.
The associate had gotten a large, very well-lit room ready for you. The dresses you had asked for were already on display, hung up across the back wall as you entered.
“This should be all of them. Will there be anything else Mrs. Petrov? Shall I stay and help you try any of them on?” She asked kindly.
“That won’t be necessary but thank you.”
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with some of the fanciest garments that money could buy yet you stood there feeling hollow, sighing deeply to yourself.
You slid the first dress from its silk hanger. A lilac gown with beautifully beaded detail on the bodice. Once you had managed to get it on, you stood in front of the mirror with a grimace. Steve was right, it was much too pale. You hated that he was right. A man who barely knows you anymore and still knows too much.
It was much the same as you tried on each one of the expensive gowns. None of them seemed quite right. Either the color was off, or it didn’t fit quite right leaving you empty handed on the way out.
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Later that afternoon, the sun was setting low, as you worked through a few things before you would reluctantly head home for the evening.
Abigail enthusiastically walked toward you with a large black box, wrapped with a red, silk ribbon and a large matching bow on top.
“Mrs. Petrov, this was just delivered for you. It's from Figueroa.”
The dress shop you had visited earlier in the day. Confusion spread across your face, as you took it from her opting to open it in your office and dismissing her for the day.
You gently lifted the edges, immediately met with matching red tissue paper and a small, white card that simply read: This was ALWAYS your color. See you tomorrow.
You pushed aside the wrapping to reveal a deep, burgundy colored gown held within. The material was a beautiful velvet, soft to the touch, letting your fingers melt into the fabric as you pulled it from the box. It was stunning. A mermaid cut, with long sleeves dropped for the sweetheart neckline that would show some cleavage. It was sexy yet stayed somewhat moderate.
You didn't remember seeing this one in the store because it would have surely caught your eye.
Steve always had good taste. It came as no surprise he chose something that you would have picked out for yourself.
You hid the card in the desk, amongst the ones that have accompanied the flowers, hiding away any evidence of where the dress had come from. Your insides twisted at the thought of hiding him away forever. It was never meant to be this way with Steve.
You gripped the edges of the box on the ride home with a permanent smile etched across your face at the thought of seeing him tomorrow, if only for a brief moment, you would be the one to make him smile.
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You sat in silence, staring out the window, ignoring the grunts and protests from Nik.
“I shouldn't even be going to this stupid wedding. I've got shit to do at the club tonight.” Huffing out like a petulant child, pushing his back further into the seat.
You simply rolled your eyes and tried to picture yourself literally anywhere else. The thought of spending the entire evening by his side turned your stomach. All dolled up to be HIS arm candy, but it would be your secret who you were dressed FOR.
“Hey, are you going to talk to me? You've got to play the part sometime tonight.” He grabbed for your hand, but you swiftly moved away from his touch at the faintest brush.
“I'll play along in public, but do not fucking touch me when we are alone. I don't know where your filthy hands have been. Or who they've been in, for that matter.” You spat, already over his behavior.
He let out a deep, hearty laugh, throwing his head back.
“Someone is feisty. I like it.” Grabbing your knee, laughing once again when you pushed him away. “Oh, come on baby. Give us a kiss.”
“Fuck off, Nik.” You hissed.
“Don't worry, sweetheart. The feeling is mutual.” He straightened back up in his seat, promptly lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke your way.
“Do you mind? I don't want to smell like smoke before we get there.” Waving it away from you and your face, letting out a small cough.
“Aw, don't want your new dress to smell like smoke?” He chuckled, pinching the fabric at your side. “Poor baby.”
Your hand tightened around the clutch you held in your lap, as you closed your eyes holding back your anger as best you could, seething just below the surface. You just had to get through a couple of hours, saying pleasantries and having lighthearted conversation while rubbing a few elbows with certain people.
Calming your nerves as best you could, taking a few deep breaths and slowly opening your eyes once more.
Nik was distracted on his phone, leaving you for a few moments of peace before you pulled up to the venue.
The driver came around to open his door first, but Nik made no attempt to come around to your side to let you out, making the driver go around to open your door as well. A real gentleman.
“Let's get this over with. I've got shit to do.” Finally coming to stand beside you, extending his elbow for you to take.
“You've already said that.” You hissed, reluctantly taking his arm as you headed toward the entrance. “Just fucking behave Nik, you can't act like an ass in front people tonight.”
As much as you hated your husband, he still had a portion of business to uphold with many of the attendees tonight. Your father's reputation was at stake just being associated with the prick.
“I'll do as I damn well please.” He hissed back through gritted teeth, glaring down at you as you entered the large room. Ignoring him, you will yourself to throw on the best fake smile that you could muster.
The wedding was being held downtown, at one of the oldest buildings. Its gothic architecture and high ceilings were a beautiful backdrop for a wedding.
Nik made a beeline for some of his associates, immediately grabbing some champagne from one of the waitresses as he pulled you along. It didn’t go unnoticed the way he so blatantly eyed her up and down as he passed.
You busied yourself looking around at the decor, sipping your own champagne trying to ignore the conversation he was having around you. Some things you couldn’t understand at all as he spoke in his native tongue. When you had first gotten married you took an interest in learning Russian but that quickly subsided as your marriage started falling apart.
The room quieted down to a dull murmur when he entered. His very presence commanded the attention of everyone present. Heads began to turn his way, all clambering to catch a glimpse of the so-called prodigal son of Richard Harrington as he made his entrance, his first public outing since the funeral.
He ignored the hushed whispers around him, walking in with Eddie falling right in behind him, the crowd parting as he made his way to pay respect to the happy couple.
He looked as handsome as ever sporting a black suit, with his hair slicked back and quaffed perfectly but his burgundy shirt and tie beneath his buttoned suit jacket is what really caught your eye. It was the exact color of your dress. A detail that brought a small smile to your face.
“Who the hell does he think he is?” Nik scoffed, as some of the other men chuckled, pulling your attention back to the small group.
He downed the rest of his champagne, eyes never leaving Steve, following his movements across the crowded space.
“I need something a little more stiff, come on.” He grabbed your arm, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar, dragging you along beside him. The abruptness caught you off guard. For a moment, you wabbled on your heels.
“Nik, you need to take it easy tonight.” You whispered through gritted teeth.
“And you,” he hissed. “Should shut the fuck up.” He gripped your arm a little tighter as you reached the bar tucked away in the corner before ordering a bourbon, downing it in one gulp, slamming the glass back down. He would never outwardly push it out in the open like this, showing his true colors but it was surprising, nonetheless.
He finally relinquished his grip to grab his next one, turning to meet his associates as they began to huddle around him, picking up their conversations from before leaving him to ignore you once more.
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Steve spotted you as soon as he walked through the door, smirking to himself. The dress he had picked out fit you spectacularly, showing off your curves while staying somewhat modest. You were breathtaking.
Reluctantly, his attention drew back to the matter at hand as he made his way through the crowd to greet the wedding party and their family, wishing them the best.
Steve quickly made his rounds, shaking hands and chatting with some familiar faces or some new introducing themselves, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.
He and Eddie grabbed some flutes of champagne, chatting amongst themselves in the corner where he temporarily lost you in the crowd, but quickly caught up with you again heading toward the bar with Nik.
His jaw ticked seeing the way he gripped you, pulling you alongside him.
Eddie noticed how he stiffened, following his line of vision over to you just in time for them both to witness his hold on you grow a little more harsh.
Steve took a step before Eddie moved abruptly in front of him, halting him with a palm to his chest.
“Steve. Not here.” Eddie warned, as he looked past him once more. You had already moved away from Nik, standing to the side of the bar.
Eddie was right. This was not the time or place to lose his head, but it didn't mean they couldn't have a little chat.
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You heard him before you saw him, heart promptly leaping into your throat when you realized he was headed in your direction, but he only caught your gaze nodding slightly and greeted Nik instead.
Realizing you could do nothing but stand there and watch as the scene unfolds, you downed the rest of your champagne bracing for the worst.
“Nik, gentlemen. How are we all doing this evening?” Asking with that charming Harrington tone, as Eddie hung slightly behind them, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed but you could tell he was anything but.
Nik’s amusement seemed to fade, his smile dropping, moving the glass to his lips for another sip. He stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to the other man.
“Harrington.” Nodding back, as the others stated their own greetings.
“Didn't expect you to show up here. Your father never came to shit like this.” He sneered.
“Well, little Niki, like I told you the other day, we aren't our fathers. And I, for one, am striving to be a better man than he was. We should all strive to be better men, right?” Leveling his gaze right at your husband as he spoke.
A flash of anger split Nik's face before regaining his composure, already a little too much to drink to effectively conceal his emotions. The nickname he gained in his youth that he had come to detest, trying to live up to the elder Nikolai, his father, always falling in his shadow. Something that he and Steve had in common however they chose very different avenues to deal with it.
“Right.” Scoffing, as he set his glass back to the bar, taking a small step toward Steve, once again squaring his shoulders. “Any suggestions on how I should go about that, since you're doling out the advice today? I'm all ears.”
“I don't know, Nik. Maybe the old ways of handling business are outdated? Kind of like, oh I don't know?” Pausing, pretending to think for a moment. “Raising a hand to your spouse to keep them in line? That shit just doesn't work and makes you look bad.”
Your cheeks suddenly heated at the bluntness of his insinuation, hoping no one looked over at you.
“And what the fuck would you know about business? Last time I checked, you were still riding daddy's coattails.” Leaning further into Steve’s space as he spoke trying to make himself more intimidating, but he stood his ground, not so easily dissuaded.
Eddie made to move forward, but Steve quickly held a hand out, halting him.
Nik's raised voice began garnering a little attention their way as you scanned the other guests standing close by.
“I'm just saying.” Taking a step toward Nik this time, both men practically nose to nose. “Sometimes it's better to get with the program, or you could lose everything.”
“Are you threatening me?” Nik spat.
Steve let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped back, reminding himself once more that he couldn’t lose it here.
“Trust me, you would know if it's a threat. Just some friendly advice.” He clapped him on the arm as if they were old chums, sharing a good laugh which only infuriated Nik further.
“You can take your friendly advice and shove it u…” One of Nik's associates got in between the two and tried to calm him down. Steve was trying to goad him to gauge his reaction and he had taken the bait flawlessly.
“Well, gentlemen if you'll excuse me, we are here for a wedding after all.” He nodded, as he and Eddie headed back across the room, leaving you a little speechless in the process.
“I don't know who the fuck he thinks he is.” Nik began to rant, so you decided to leave him and make your way to your chair for the ceremony. You also hoped he would cool off before coming to find you as other guests began to fill the empty seats around you.
You caught Steve out of the corner of your eye as he passed, taking a seat across the aisle, one row up on the end.
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The ceremony was beautiful with a blushing young bride and a handsome groom. They seemed genuinely happy and for their sakes you hoped it were true.
You couldn't help but feel sadness now thinking back to your own wedding. The joy and hopefulness that day brought only to be a complete fabrication.
As the couple said their vows, your eyes found his across the aisle, as if he had already been looking toward you. There seemed to be a sadness etched within him as well, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle.
Images flashed and danced through your mind of a life that could have been. A fall wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family. Honeymooning on the Italian coast and coming back to a home full of love and promise without any doubts.
Steve would have given you the world without any hesitation. He loved fiercely, willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. He made it so damn easy to see what a bright future lay ahead for both of you.
You hadn't noticed a tear escaping until it rolled down your cheek, and onto your hand situated in your lap, suddenly bringing you crashing back to reality.
He was still looking at you when you diverted your gaze away, because it was all too much. Your chest ached as the couple kissed, concluding their vows and made their way down the aisle, now united in holy matrimony with smiles gracing their happy faces. It was suddenly too suffocating.
“I have to go to the restroom.” Excusing yourself from Nik’s side, not waiting for his response, quickly dashing out the side door into the empty hallway.
You breathed a small sigh of relief, briefly pausing, your hand leaning against the wall to steady yourself and regain some composure.
You willed yourself to conceal your emotions as you began to make your way down the corridor but as you rounded the corner someone grabbed your forearm. Your back was suddenly met with a warm chest, taking you by surprise. Their large hand clasping over your mouth stifling any noise from escaping you, as they step further back with you in tow, closing the door.
Before you had time to react, his soothing voice washed over you.
“It's okay, Dove. It's just me.” His lips so close, ghosting the shell of your ear as he spoke. He waited a moment for it to register before he removed his hand from your face, finding the light switch.
“Steve! What the hell?” Saying as you swung around to face him, your pulse racing from the small scare. He had pulled you into a small, dimly lit utility closet, away from prying eyes and just big enough for the two of you.
“I'm sorry, honey it's the only place I could get you alone.” He shrugged, shifting toward you, with a small pout.
“I shouldn't be in here.” You reached for the handle, but he was quick to place his hand overtop yours, effectively halting your movement.
“I couldn't let you leave without telling you how beautiful you look.” He whispered, closing the small gap between you, his hand coming to rest on your hip, heat radiating from his palm. His touch was searing, even through the fabric of your gown.
“I saw this on the way out of the shop and had them match the shirt and tie perfectly.” He inches just a little more into your space, releasing the hold on your hand so he could plant it firmly to your lower back pushing you further into him.
Your hands find the expanse of his chest, holding yourself steady, feeling as though your knees could give out at any moment. He had unbuttoned his suit jacket, your palms finding the warmth beneath, flat against his silk shirt.
He didn't need to utter it aloud. The dress. The tie. It was his way of subtly staking claim to you. You were and always had been his.
“Steve, what are you doing? You can't exactly woo a married woman. Especially one married to someone as powerful as Nik. He…” You stopped, when you saw the look in his eyes, utterly and completely gone for you.
“I don't have to woo what's already mine.” His voice low and husky, dripping with desire.
“That’s very presumptuous of you, Mr. Harrington.” You breathed out, trying to maintain your cool but even you could hear the waiver in your voice.
No matter the distance or time, you couldn't forget this man no matter how hard you tried. He would simply not let you. It felt like torture to be this close to him now, yet so far away.
Your head kept telling you that you needed to run, but you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You were transfixed, gazing up into his golden, mossy framed orbs.
You let your eyes trail his features. A small scar above his left eyebrow that had been there for years, a memento of his childhood. The way his lips had the perfect cupid's bow and remembering just the way he tastes.
He leans down looking for any sign of trepidation, finding none; your face mirroring his own, full of unspoken adoration.
“You're not denying it, tesoro. Just tell me you want this, as much as I do.” His nose traces down the slope of yours as he speaks. Your heart hammering so hard in your chest, you were sure he could hear it beating.
“Amore mio.” You whisper, top lip grazing his, releasing a shuddering breath before the realization of what you'd just said fully hit.
You'd never spoken those simple words to anyone else, only ever reserved for Steve. He had taught you some phrases in Italian, mostly sweet talk. You were always his tesoro mio and he, your amore mio.
You lean back, clasping a hand over your mouth as he was fully leaning in, eyes closed, lips chasing yours.
“Oh my God!” You gasp out, pressing yourself backward, stumbling a bit in your heels but he catches your elbow as you regain your balance.
“Dove?” He asks, voice low, coming out a little timidly.
“I… We can't do this Steve!” He can see your internal conflict and what he can only infer as fear written all over your face. It dawns on him then. The way you had winced when he grabbed your arm at the gallery. The way Nik had pulled you through the room earlier.
“Dove, did he hurt you?” His hand on your elbow begins to draw you back in, laying his other to your jaw, coaxing your face toward him but you still refuse to look up, eyes cast downward.
“No, Steve. You just… you don't know what he's capable of.” Your eyes grow glossy, tears threatening to spill over your lashes and ruining your makeup.
“Hey, honey, I'm not worried about him.” He does his best to soothe you, speaking softly. “If anyone should be worried, it's him. You hear me? Look at me.” Gently, his thumb grazes your bottom lip.
“Dove, look at me.” Pleading one last time, his voice was raw and pained.
“Steve, I can't…” Your eyes finally meet his, tears spilling out and down your cheeks. He does his best to wipe them away when his hands come to cup your cheeks. “I…I’m sor…”
“Shhh… no need for that, tesoro mio.” He doesn't want to let you go, but he's afraid of pushing you further away.
He leans in, warm lips press into your forehead as your eyes close. A tender embrace, your hand coming to grip his wrist holding him in place for a moment longer before quietly slipping from his hold.
You wipe your tears, pausing with your hand on the handle, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“It's better if you stay away from me.” Whispering out without waiting for a reply, quickly opening the door and checking the hall before stepping out. Your footsteps are the only sound echoing down the corridor as you walk toward the restroom to clean yourself up.
The interaction only lasted a few minutes, but the feeling of his hands and lips still lingered on your skin.
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“It's better if you stay away from me.”
He blows out a deep breath but doesn't say anything.
Better for who? He bitterly thinks. Certainly not better for him. You're all he's thought about since returning. It's driving him insane.
He can't bring himself to think about you with Nik. The asshole getting to have you all to himself. He can touch, kiss or bed you anytime he pleases. The thought makes him sick, but the brief interaction solidifies what he already knew to be true.
When he heard “amore mio” glide past your lips so easily, he knew he still had you. His heart ached to hear you say that just once more, something he hadn't heard uttered in so long, nearly taking his breath away. You're still his.
He waits a few more moments, letting you get ahead of him before he makes sure the coast is clear and exits the closet.
Heading in the opposite direction and rounding the corner, he spots Eddie leaning against the wall smirking at him.
“Everything okay, boss?” His grin drops, shoving himself off the wall seeing the annoyed look plastered to Steve's face. Not what he had expected.
“No, but it will be. We're leaving.” Grunting out as he continues to walk, leaving Eddie to catch up to his stride.
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You stared at your reflection in the mirror, wiping the makeup that had run. It took a few minutes, but you made yourself presentable.
Nik was waiting for you right outside the bathroom, crossing his arms giving you a death glare when you spotted him.
“What the hell have you been doing?” He hissed.
“I had to pee, and the wedding made me emotional, so I cleaned myself up. I can't go to the reception looking like a mess.” Responding, as you headed past him, but he grabbed your arm. The one he's so fond to take here lately when you get out of line.
“We're going home.” He spat, getting in your face for a moment before a cruel smile stretched across his face as his whole demeanor changed.
“Kitten, I know you're tired, it's been a long hard day.” Ushering you out into the reception area, pulling you through the crowd toward the exit, holding tightly to your wrist as if you would try to flee at any moment.
The car was already waiting outside, as he ushered you inside and slammed the door. You held your breath when he sat down beside you and began to loosen his tie, unbuttoning the restricting collar.
Silence for a few moments as you head back home to your prison.
“Do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He finally asks, turning his head slowly toward you.
“Wh– What?” You asked meekly, shrinking into yourself.
“I asked if you think I'm fucking stupid?” Enunciating each word a little slower and more clipped.
You furrowed your brow, trying to decipher where he was going. Had he seen you and Steve exit the closet?
“Where'd the dress come from?”
“My dress?” You tried to stay calm, looking down at the velvet fabric. He'd put those small crumbs together.
“The dress Y/N. That fucker bought it for you, didn't he? Didn't think I'd notice his goddamn matching shirt and tie? You two think you're really cute.” He clenched his fists on his lap, as his jaw ticked. He was anything but calm right now and the dam was about to burst.
“Nik… I…” He suddenly lunged at you, hand around your throat pushing you back into the seat. You gasped out in surprise, as he pressed in just a little harder, fingers flexing and cutting off your air supply. Your hand flew up to clutch at his, grasping and desperately trying to pry him away.
He leaned in close, gritting his teeth as he spoke.
“Its like you want me the fucking hurt you, leaving me no choice. Pull a stunt like that again, and not even your father will be able to protect you.”
He eases back, placing a chaste kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. Your airway opened, leaving you gasping in a heavy breath while letting out a small, choked sob.
“I warned you.” His last words for the evening, before lighting a cigarette and thoroughly ignoring you, taking a phone call leaving you to sulk in the corner.
He dropped you off at home, no doubt heading to his club, but you were grateful to be left alone for the night hoping for some miracle that he wouldn’t come back home at all.
You drew yourself a hot bath, letting the magnitude of everything that had transpired wash over you.
The wedding brought up so many morose thoughts and feelings. Steve blatantly threatening Nik, Nik threatening you, it was all too much.
Your fingertips graze your cheek where his hand had been not long ago. If you closed your eyes, you could feel him still, imaging he was here with you. His touch had electrified you. Something you had never felt with anyone else. A feeling of being totally alive. The gray, dreary past melting and giving way to a future full of bright color.
“Steve.” You whispered out, pulling your knees into your chest, as you cried.
Lying to yourself would be useless. Steve was everything that Nik never was or would be. Years apart and he still holds your heart. You were still in love with him, just knowing he felt the same was all you needed.
You had to think of a plan, while still trying to maintain your distance until Nik was out of the picture.
This was a very dangerous game, but you couldn't bear the thought of letting him go a second time.
No, you wouldn't let that happen this time.
Taglist: @micheledawn1975 @girlwiththerubyslippers @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @taccobelle
Let me know if you would like to be tagged!
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buzzyb33 · 11 months
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Prompt: while planning the new sidemen video, Ethan makes sure you get the best time by taking you to Poland, may be the cheap team but make sure you got the greatest time.
Warnings: spoilers for sideman Sunday on 29/10/23, mentions of hair colour and length,
Got you into all of the great bookings.
Really giddy from airports both in GREAT moods as you hop around the airport
Taking photos of you in your sideman hoodie, hair down, glasses identical to his, your AirPod Max’s while sipping on Starbucks, going straight to his insta story
Sleeping on his chest in first class 🤭
Booked loads stupid activities for you as it’s your first time in Poland!!
Filling your insta story with site seeings and pictures of josh (being a dad), JJ frowning and Tobi enjoying himself.
Let you sleep with some jet lag while he surprised the other 3 members, left you with a sweet text.
In the morning had you by his side, not on camera just next to the camera men as JJ excitedly spent his (and some of Tobi’s) money on a horse ride.
“Why are you tea bagging a pigeon?..” I say mostly to myself and josh turns to me shaking his head, Ethan doesn’t seem to hear me as JJ approaches, I stay at Ethan’s side as Tobi shakes his head.
“He lead them too us..” I smile and pull my hood down, in a matter of minutes- the boys are surrounded by people and I step away, sure I make content but no where near as big as my boyfriend as I made more gaming videos.
I wait and I see a teenage girl looking at me with a hesitant look, I smile and she approaches me.
She gulps. “Y/-N, right- yeah- I know you can- I have a photo?” She asks and pulls out her lilac iPhone 11 I nod and take a photo with her.
I smile, feeling proud of myself.
Most of the time I stood next to Steve (the bodyguard) holding onto Ethan’s glasses.
“We’re going to a bunny café? That’s fucking sick- though I did think Poland was more famous for their ducks and boars.” I say as I sit next to JJ as Ethan leans over and puts the bunny ears on his head.
grinning a lot and enjoy the free trip
Ethan holding your hand as you two trail behind
Enjoying the food and drinks
When you two get back to the room just falling asleep holding each other the second you get into your room.
Ethan and JJ getting calls from the other boys and all 8 if you talking on the phone in a random restaurant.
Though, if you didn’t eat with the boys Ethan definitely payed for your whole day out consisting of feeding ducks, spas, hair done, polish massages, and making sure you enjoy yourself.
Ahem, thanked him
Calling him halfway through the day thanking him and giggling about feeding the ducks.
“I’ll see you later- I have to Uhm, what’s it called? Oh yeah I’m going to this restaurant where they have.. cucumber soup? I dunno, love you though, have fun.” I grin into the phone.
“Alright- love you too have fun, see you later, love.” He clears his throat as he hangs up, trying to contain his smirk utterly from his girlfriends excitement.
“You just use these videos for Y/ns benefit- and you for Freya.” Tobi says as they roam the wax shop, looking at all the poorly made celebrities.
“Mhm..” Ethan dismisses.
Ethan leaves the boys to get on their Ryan air as he comes back to hotel room, you packed for him as you headed to the airport, you thanked him and hugged him- swaying side to side.
When you got on the plane he proceeded to take photos of you sleeping on his chest, nuzzling into him.
The fans got FED. Absolutely FED.
A/n: 😵‍💫😵‍💫 Love little head cannons, nope you do too, REQUEST anything on my character list, I will get to it ASAP.
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to-myalphonse · 10 months
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HEMLOOO can I request lyney x gn!reader who is shy and lyney just keeps on teasing them? I swear that boy is a FLIRT
I usualy don't know how to do pick up lines, so I did my best.
Sorry for the wait, I've been busy
"Can I pick you up too?" He laughs leaning against the pole on the railing. You were leaning over the railing trying to catch a flyer that flew up. You didn't realize you almosr flew over, until a person pulled ypu back over.
The people around you laugh as you look away. Before you could blink, he pulls out a rainbow rose.
"For you darling." You could the chesire grin as he leaned in closer. Your face lit up red as you tried to back away. Your back hit the railing as his hand sat itself next to your arm.
"What's wrong, stage fright?" You could hear the cooing from thr old couple passing through.
"I remember when you used to do things like that for me." An elderly woman clutched onto her husband. His returns her smile kissing hwr on the forehead.
"Hey, this is not time for distractions, seriously you have a great magician standing right here." Your eyes met his lilac ones. Purple, mysterious and also mischevious, these things reflect the man ib front of you.
Keep eye contact, he pulls into his hat pulling out a deck of cards. Different carda were held in front of you. Picking one up, a diamond symbol was shown along with a small cat paw. Before you could further investugate, he re took the card.
Instead of reshuffling his deck disappeared.
"So, you're not from around here are you?" Your eyes furrow in confusion. He laughs further explaining.
"Usually, "Magicians," do card tricks like this and while you're distracted they pick your pockets." He holds up your valuable items that you were hiding.
"Hey.. give that back!" You reach foward as the items disappear. He smiles pulling out another object from his pocket. A flyer? He snaps his hands as it disappears as well.
"Countdown with me, 3 2 1." He snaps again looming around before lookong above you. Looking up, objects fall off your head onto the ground below you. Your missing items fell to your feet.
As you get up, you notice the man from before missing, with only a flyer left in his place.
"Lyney & Lynette's Magic Show."
'Performing tonight at 18hrs."
"Sorry for suddenly leaving, I had some things to attend to. I would like to see you again after my show tonight. I do have something to return to you after all."
"I hope you accept my invatation."
@malleuxii @tavvattales @yuumaofc @endlessmari (dunno who else wants to be tagged.)
#rene
Lyney's tag for my writing for him is
#adventures with a magician boy from a quiet villiage
Just follow it, its easier than me tagging you individually.
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ticklemerainbows · 1 year
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Aestheticore Legacy Challenge
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Hullo friends! I have been searching for a little while for a legacy challenge that I could also use as some sort of perfect genetics challenge and I figured, why not make my own. So the aestheticore legacy challenge was born! As you can tell from the title, this challenge is centered around differed aesthetics. There are a ton of aesthetics out there so it was hard to pick just 10, and some of these I’ve never heard of before so I’m excited to try this out! 
If you decide to do this, tag me ticklemerainbows or aestheticore challenge so I can see! And feel free to let me know what you think. This is my first challenge so if there’s things I could do different/better let me know!
And without further ado, the challenge.
                                                         ~x~x~x~
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Generation One - Cottagecore
Your favorite thing about living on family land is the garden. It’s been around for at least the last 10 generations, and you want nothing more than to keep it going, but living in a city isn’t for you. So you pack up, take a keepsake plant from the garden and move to a quiet town in order to grow your own garden that will hopefully last for generations to come!
Requirements:  The Perfect Garden
Live on a small (no bigger than 30x30) lot
Maintain a garden for the entire generation
Reach level 10 Gardening
Make a living off your plants
Suggested Traits: Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors
Color: Green
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Generation Two - Auroracore 
You try your hardest to help your parents on the farm but you can’t help but have your head in the clouds. Fairy tales are your favorite genre of anything, and while living on a farm is all fine and dandy - you absolutely love your horse, you did raise it from a baby after all! - you always wonder if there’s something more. Like, a unicorn, perhaps?
Requirements:  The Fairy Tale Finder
Raise a horse from foal to adult
Reach level 10 in the Riding Skill
Have your horse get the Friend of the Herd Lifetime Reward
Search for a unicorn anytime there’s an aurora
Suggested Traits: Equestrian, Animal Lover
Color: Lilac
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Generation Three - Light Academia
Being raised by someone who’s lifelong mission was to find a supernatural creature was surprisingly not as chaotic as it would sound, though you still prefer to stay more…grounded. While your parents were out hunting, you preferred to keep your head in the books, earning a scholarship to get into University. 
Requirements:  The Perfect Student
Get on honor roll as a child/teen
Earn a scholarship in any subject
Buy the bookstore
Suggested Traits: Socially Awkward, Workaholic, Perfectionist, Bookworm
Color: Beige
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Generation Four - Fairycore
Your grandmother always told you about her times with her unicorn friend, and while you never quite believed her, you fell in love with the idea of supernatural creatures altogether. Magic, fairies, it all sounds so fantastical that you even begin trying to figure out if you can turn yourself into a magical creature!
Requirements:  Alchemy Artisan
Reach level 10 Alchemy
Visit the arboretum once a week to search for fairies
Befriend a fairy
Use an elixir to become a fairy
Suggested Traits: Supernatural Fan, Gatherer
Color: Pink
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Generation Five - Comfy/Cozy
Life around magic has been a whirlwind, and you are anything but all that excitement. Having a grandparent who owns a bookstore has its perks, and you spend most of your time curled up with a good book and a warm cup of tea. Leaving your house to work doesn’t sound too appealing but you don’t have to go outside to write, do you?
Requirements:  Professional Author
Join the bookclub
Visit the library at least 3 times a season
Reach level 10 Writing
Write a best selling novel
Suggested Traits: Bookworm, Couch Potato, Artistic
Color: Orange
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Generation Six - Decora
You always get asked how you turned out so outgoing when you were raised by homebodies, and you never have an answer for that. You just love being around people, and more importantly dressing those people up. You want to fill as many peoples lives with as much color as possible.
Requirements:  Fashion Phenomenon
Change your outfit every season
Reach level 10 Painting
Makeover at least 10 sims
Become best friends with one of your clients
Suggested Traits: Charismatic, Artistic, Excitable
Color: Magenta
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Generation Seven - Jamcore
You love color just as much as your parents, but not so much the fashion part. Your clothes get way too messy as you experiment in the kitchen, after all. Creating yummy, colorful dishes are where your passions lie and you are determined to learn as much about the culinary arts as you possibly can.
Requirements:  The Culinary Librarian
Cook meals for your family every day
Grow a fruit orchard on the family farm
Have a personal recipe library
(Optional) Use the Grandma’s Canning Station once a week
Suggested Traits: Natural Cook, Bookworm
Color: Yellow
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Generation Eight - Nautical
See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls ye. You’ve always been drawn to the water, so much so that your family jokes that you might be a mermaid. Swimming, fishing, boating, it all appeals to you. You’d live on a houseboat, if given the chance. 
Requirements:  Presenting the Perfect Aquarium
Own a boat
Install a pond on your family land
Move into a houseboat
Reach level 10 Fishing
Suggested Traits: Loves to Swim, Angler
Color: Blue
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Generation Nine - Wanderlust
Your parents loved the open sea but you want to see what’s beyond that! Visiting other cities, and even other countries. Learning and immersing yourself in the culture. You’ve read books about it, watched shows, and now that you’re old enough it’s time to dust off your visa and visit those places for yourself.
Requirements:  Seasoned Traveler
Reach level 10 in Photography
Collect a relic from each location
Go on at least 1 adventure in each country
Marry someone from a foreign country
Suggested Traits: Adventurer, Perfectionist
Color: Red
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Generation Ten - Synthwave
You spent your life in other countries, other cultures, and you have to wonder, what more is there? You’ve inherited a love of traveling but is it possible to go to other timelines, or even the future? There’s not much research on it now but there’s only one way to find out. To the future!
Requirements:  Made the Most of My Time
Become best friends with Emit
Reach Level 10 in Advanced Technology
Complete the Time Keeper Legacy Statue Challenge
Create a time machine
Suggested Traits: Friendly, Adventurer
Color: Black
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Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Seven
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: You finally got what you came for. 
Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, grief, angst, strained relationships, arguments, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, al-anon. Vague mentions of guns (specifically the sights and the sounds). 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: SURPRISE SHAWTYSSSS ! I got another chapter out for you all <3 i love n miss you all very much and i hope you enjoy some more of this slow slow slow burn . I have a lot of fun things planned for the last couple of chapters for this series so be prepared for that ! You heard that right babes, this wonderful journey will be ending soon, BUT FEAR NOT, i will be making a spin off for Season 2 of The Bear in this universe ! This series may be over, but the story is not over yet ! I love you all, many hugs and kisses for you, i hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy the chapter !
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus @jackierose902109
Masterlist
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You sat at the dining room table, wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. In front of you, your mom placed plates full of sliced fruits, sauteed foods, and some dishes of your favorite food. You slowly turned to look up at her, your eyes droopy and bags dark. But your mom didn’t look at you, she just turned around and kept on cooking, trying her best to conceal her swollen and red rimmed eyes from you.
All you could do was turn back to the steaming and fresh plates of food in front of you, trying your best to work up an appetite, but nothing seemed to work. Not the glistening juices of the fresh fruit, not the delicious scent of sauteed vegetables, or even the sight of your comfort food; nothing. 
All you could do was sit there, body sagging under the plush blanket that was wrapped around you.
“Come on sweetheart, please have something…”
Your dad sat across the table and in front of you, reaching over with a tiny yellow and lilac fork to pick at some of the food and lift it up to you. His eyes pleaded with you, switching between watering and blinking the tears away. 
Slowly, your mouth opened very slightly, prompting your dad to practically jump up in his seat and reach over to give you a spoonful of your favorite food. Despite the taste being one that normally made you excited and happy, today it tasted like nothing. 
Your mom plated the last food she had just finished cooking on one of her finest china plates before placing it down on the table with the 10 other plates of food. She then moved to stand behind your dad, eagerly looking at you with a sad glint in her eyes. But, nonetheless, she leaned forward and watched as your dad used the tiny fork to feed you. 
It wasn’t until your 5th bite that she had to excuse herself out of the kitchen and to the bathroom where she muffled her cries with a towel. 
Your father continued to feed you, doing his best to alternate foods to keep you engaged, the same way he would do for you as a child. He watched as you, his baby, looked lifeless in front of him; a shell of your former self. 
“What are we doing today?” you managed to rasp out, voice faint.
Your father’s eyebrows knitted together, “Whatever you want…”
You hummed softly and sighed before turning to look away at the floorboards. Your father could only watch the way your eyes look off into the distance, the glint that you had before gone. 
Your mom came rushing back into the kitchen, cardigan sleeves rolled up to her elbows before stopping in front of the sink to start washing up the dirty utensils and plates in there. This made both you and your dad glance up, seeing her suddenly move so quickly.
“You have the Al-Anon meeting tomorrow, don’t forget that, okay? You might want to wash up today to be ready for tomorrow.”
You pulled the blankets around you tighter, muffling your words as you spoke, “I don’t think I can go tomorrow, Mom…”
“You are going.”
This made both you and your Dad perk up, glancing at each other in confusion at her firm tone before turning to your Mom. 
“What?” 
“You heard me. You are going tomorrow.”
Your Dad rushed up from his chair, “What do you mean? She’s not in the right place for that right now, I think she just needs to rest-”
“Absolutely not. She will go tomorrow and that’s final.”
“Shouldn’t we discuss this first, i mean-”
You mom slammed down the plate she was washing up, making both you and your Dad flinch at the sound of the ceramic breaking in the sink. 
She threw herself around, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, to look at you straight in the eyes, “You will go. I can’t keep grieving my daughter when she has been alive and right in front of me the entire time!”
Your Dad gasps and launches himself forward, grabbing your Mom’s shoulders and dragging her out of the kitchen. But she just continued to cry out as she was whisked away, staring at you as you sat there, heart in your stomach. 
From behind the kitchen door, you could hear them having a hushed but heated conversation. You could only make out a few words, all expressing their own pain and grievances with this whole situation.
Then, her words hit you.
I can’t keep grieving my daughter when she has been alive and right in front of me the entire time!
It had been over half a year since Mikey died, and you weren’t you anymore because of it. Grief became of you. And your biggest fear is your current reality: you got so caught up in not wanting to burden others with your pain that doing so ended up becoming said burden. You ignored everyone else’s pain, unconsciously, in an attempt to run away from your own and only caused them to worry when they too were grieving. They were grieving a brother, a cousin, a friend, a boss, a coworker; they too were grieving.
Exactly like how Carmy said to you. 
You knew you fucked up, but it never really hit you properly, until now when you could see it; when you saw your parents, who typically put up a brave face for you, begin to unravel in front of you.
Your chair scraped loudly on the wood floor as you stood up, making your parents’ conversation pause before they both peeked inside to look at you.
“I need to go tomorrow.” You announced, shakily. 
They stared at you, silent.
“I can’t keep living like this.”
You woke up at 9 am that next morning, rushing over to start getting ready. You put on your favorite outfit, the same one that Mikey loved seeing you in, before moving to the mirror to adjust your appearance as you saw fit. 
Your mom came rushing into your room at 9:50, chewing on her bottom lip, “I got breakfast for you, you ready?”
Breakfast that morning consisted of everything you loved to eat as a kid, adjusted for your adult taste. From sweet to savory, all your favorite breakfast foods were there along with your dad who kept on organizing the table for you. 
Neither of them bothered to look at the clock, just watched you with watery eyes as they clung to one another, seeing the way that you ate everything you could get your hands on. Not eating well the day before made you wake up this morning with fiery hunger that was satisfied with their cooking.
They both drove you to the Al-Anon meeting, not caring that you were now a bit late for the meeting. They just glanced at you, over and over, staring either through the mirror or over their shoulder as the car inched closer and closer to where the meeting would take place.
Your dad turned off the engine of the car in a spot at the back of the building, silently eyeing you through the rear view mirror one last time. Meanwhile, your mother anxiously fumbled with her seatbelt strap, avoiding looking at the spot where you had argued at just a couple days ago. And while you too felt a knot forming in your stomach as you sat there in the backseat and looked out at the building, you knew you couldn’t run anymore. You kept saying that to yourself these past weeks, but now you really knew what it meant. 
You turned and yanked the door open, eyebrows furrowed, and stomped out. Your mom and dad glanced at one another before looking at you, seeing the determination written all over your face. 
Right as your mother tried to open her car door, you reached out and pushed it closed again. She looked up at you, eyes wide, “Sweetie?”
Her voice was shaky and she spoke barely above a whisper. You couldn’t even hear her as she spoke, but you managed to make out her words through the glass. 
“I need to go in alone.”
Your mom glanced over to your dad, who sighed heavily, “I don’t think this is a good idea-”
But you shook your head and smiled softly at them, “I left all this behind alone, so I need to come back to it alone.”
Your mom whipped her head away from you, hands shaking as she yanked a tissue from her pocket up to her face. Your dad could only reach over and embrace her as best as he could over the console of the car before nodding at you.
“We will be here, waiting for you.”
With a firm nod, you started walking to the backdoor of the building. 
You walked into a quiet hallway and saw the first door on the right slightly ajar. The sign on the door spelled out ‘AL-ANON TODAY, JOIN US. ALL ARE WELCOME’.
With silent steps but a puffed chest, you walked forward, reaching out to the handle of the door.
And that’s when you heard it again.
The click of metal.
You froze, feeling the blood in your body run cold. It sounded clear as day, right then and there. It even echoed in the silent hallway, proving to you that it wasn’t a phantom noise but a real click. 
The suffocation began, inching its way around your body, ready to worm its hands around your neck to choke you while you panicked with a rapidly beating heart. But before it came, a voice managed to hook onto you and pull you back to where you stood in that empty hallway.
“My name is Carmen. My um… my brother is an addict. My brother was an addict.”
Unconsciously, you looked up and opened the door wider. 
There, at the very end of the room, was Carmy.
He sat in a chair, in front of a bunch of chairs, some filled and many empty. He had his hand partially over his mouth and partially over his chin, how he usually had it when he was nervous and thinking about what to say or do next. 
This made you inhale sharply. 
But he didn’t look up to see you. He didn’t even notice you actually. He just stared at the floor with his unruly hair and flushed face.
“And this morning i um… sorry uh… i forgot,”
He trailed off, making your body sag. 
You stepped forward, hands shaking but eyes locked on Carmy as he sat there.
“Before I came to Al-Anon, i was a cook, i mean, i’m still a cook, just a different kind of cook, i guess…”
You made it about halfway into the room before you felt some hands gently grasp your shoulders and guide you to a chair. The touch was heavy, but gentle as they sat you down in a chair in the very back of the room, pausing to rub their thumb into your shoulder before disappearing. When you turned to see who it was, you saw no one there.
“My brother and I, we would cook a lot together, especially when we were kids. You know, that’s… that’s when we were closest… food was always our common ground.” 
You swallowed the heavy knot in your throat.
“We wanted to open a restaurant together. We had a name, we had a vibe, all of it…”
A tear fell down your cheek as you looked at Carmy, your mouth half open as you took in sharp, staggered breaths, listening to his words. 
“My brother could make you feel confident in yourself… You know, like when I was a kid, if I was nervous, I was scared, I wouldn't want to do something, he'd always tell me to just face it. Get it over with… he would always say… uhm.. stupid… he would always say um… let it rip,” with a brief laugh, Carmy glanced up before his gaze fell back down to the floor again.
All you could do, as you listened to Carmy’s words, was sit and stare right at him. Every single thing that came out of his mouth would absorb through the pores of your skin, making you feel as if a part of his words made up your person. 
It all made sense now. 
Carmy’s avoidance; the way he would move so cautiously around you as if you were a piece of hot glass, the way he would avoid your eyes when you would see each other, the way he would speak to you less and less about his own life. 
It made sense.
He was hurting, for years, in the same way you were hurting now. The mixture of anger at what is happening, guilt over feeling your emotions, sadness, desperation to reach out and make that connection, fear driving you to get away from it all, all of that hurting that felt since Mikey’s death, was what Carmy was feeling for years.
Carmy lost his brother way before he died on that bridge that night. 
“Because that restaurant, it has and it does mean a lot to people… It means a lot to me…I just don't know if it ever meant anything to him…” 
As he finished speaking, Carmy finally turned to look at you. But instead of his usual reaction, Carmy just continued to look at you.
As he rose from his seat up front, he walked over and sat down a couple rows down from the front. 
“Thank you Carmen,” a woman, whom you recognized to be Amanda, got up and smiled empathetically before turning to the room, at the very front, “Is there anyone else who would like to share something before we wrap up today’s meeting?”
Your body moved before your mind could even comprehend what you were doing, “I would.”
Amanda squinted around at the seats until she locked eyes with you, smiling softly and nodding. She gestured to the seat at the front, “Remember, this is a safe and open space for you all to share, if you feel inclined to speak, go ahead. If not, that’s perfectly okay as well.”
Your limbs were completely numb, but despite this, they moved forward. They guided you around the seats and down the side aisle to the front of the room before stopping at the chair. Amanda had since sat down so you were left alone at the very front of the room, mind finally catching up to your body and leaving it unsure as to what to do next.
You scanned the crowd, seeing the faces of unknown people all look at you, not with pity or confusion or fear, but with understanding. They knew what it was like to be you. They knew what Carmy meant. They knew. 
Then, you locked eyes with Carmy.
You continued to look at him as you slowly lowered yourself to the seat, hands gripping the arm rests with sweaty palms as you did so.
It took another minute for you to get yourself to speak, finding your voice to have been lost for a moment before it came out, and with a lot to say. 
Your eyes immediately went to the floor, “My boyfriend… he was an addict.”
The room was still.
“And i was stupid enough to not… know… there were warning signs, yea, but i never once thought to… to put the pieces together.”
Someone shifted in their seat, fabric rubbing against the plastic of the chair. 
“But um… i never… I never knew him to be an addict. I knew him to be loud, funny, confident, brash, stupid at times… but never once did I think he could be… he was… an addict.
He worked early mornings and late nights, taking me along with him and always sneaking away to… press a kiss on my shoulder or on my forehead before he went right back to work. And while he hated it when i tried to help out, he would insist that i was too pretty to be working, he would sometimes relent and let me do something to help.
I never knew how bad everything was, even in those moments when I got involved…”
Carmy watched as your hand shook while you spoke. 
“I loved him so… so fucking much. I don’t think he ever fully understood that. I would do anything for him, but it never seemed to fully get through to him…. I um.. I never told anyone this but… our relationship wasn’t always the best. Most of our arguments were about him being away so much… I felt like he never uh… never fully let his guard down around me… i know now it was because he didn’t want me… uh… finding out…
We would break up and make up within a day, usually he would apologize with flowers or food and pick me up and spin me around, swearing to never be away from me again and i would apologize too but… within a month he was back to working long hours and stuff…
But he did try, he would pick me up flowers every week, bring me food, cook breakfast for me and leave it for me to have while he was at work… he even took me out to lunch once. And those days that we did get off, when we went out together, those were the greatest days of my life. That’s when I saw him, that’s when I saw my Mikey…”
You looked to the ceiling, ignoring the tears in your eyes and instead focusing on the lines of the ceiling, “Everybody loved him, and I was no exception. He was like that, with people, he was a magnet, he knew what to say and when to say it… He always knew what to do…
And I don't know. I… I don't know what to do. I never did.
What kind of girlfriend does that make me? I didn’t even know my own boyfriend, despite years of being with him…
During the weeks after he d…” you paused and cleared your throat, "I got a… weird sense of urgency to look through some of the drawers of our apartment and i found…
I found a small box…. With a ring.”
You let out a shaky sigh and blinked rapidly, looking at your shaking hands as they rested on your lap.
“It was… it is beautiful. It had gemstones in all the right places and the colors were beautiful… i knew who it was for…It even had a receipt with it too and… the date was from… two years ago. 
He uh, he bought the ring and held onto it for two years. 
On the back of the receipt was writing. It had different locations written on it that we knew of like his office, the refrigerator of the restaurant, and even the bathroom. But they were all crossed out except for ‘drawer’, which is where i found it…
He will never know how much i loved him… and i will never know how much he loved me.”
With a laugh, you shrugged, “I don’t even know where the ring is! I just threw it somewhere while i was throwing it all in boxes. A part of me died when i lost him, but another did too when i found the ring… and the last part of me died when i left it all behind. I just had to run, you know? I couldn’t be around it anymore, I couldn't. Everything reminded me of him! Every fucking thing from the cars on the street to the cracks in the pavement. The whole fucking city looked like him!!! I couldn’t be here anymore… so i left….
But i'm back now and i… but i just… it’s… i can’t… he will never know how much i love him… and i will never know how much he loved me…”
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wayfayrr · 6 months
Note
Hey I saw your post, that the requests are open so I want to give you one.
I don't know if your tears got ripped out of his adventure and joined the Chain or after his journey where he got arm back. So what about. Reader replaces Zelda as the Light Drago , completely or basically pushed her away from that is your decision. But I kinda want fluff where Reader helps Tears beat that overgrown lizard named Ganondorf and catch them, where he finally can say how he feels as they helped him through his first journey with Wolfie.
What I'm leaning towards with him is post journey but he has a prosthetic rather than getting his own arm back, it's something he built himself and still has the abilities from the game, another thing I'm trying to incorporate is a few things that make him different from wild, they'll show themselves in time but the one that's most important for this is how he didn't have wolfie :3c
these little reqs are gonna just be tiny drabbles to flesh him out a little more, and like you asked it's just a bit of fluff post ganon with him and reader - it doesn't really go into depth about the how but it's post reader being turned back. I hope you'll like it!! <3
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“You’re scratching again, do you want some more salve?”
“Only if it isn't a bother.”
“It's never a bother - nothing is if it's for you. You don’t need to wait for the itching to get bad, or for me to notice for you to ask. I’ll do anything to help you, you know that.”
“I do.”
He knows the reason I don’t ask just as well as I do, it’s an unspoken acknowledgement that he keeps trying to get me to change my mind; he just doesn’t know how close he gets to changing it. He knows it wasn’t his fault that I was dragged into this mess, that it’s not his fault and that I hate how he blames himself for every accident that led to it. 
“Then stop dragging out whenever you’re in pain.”
“I don’t want to be a bother though, I can deal with this. It’s nothing compared to what you went through, you’re already doing enough helping me get home.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough, you spent millennia as a dragon, you fixed the master sword, you were the reason I could kill ganon. I can never repay that.”
Seems like that was enough to push him to the edge, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and threatening to overflow as he applied a cool salve to the patches of scales still dotted upon my skin. He’ll never stop feeling guilt for me having ended up helping him throughout both of his quests not as long as we have to keep doing this, the best I can do now is try to minimise it. Pressing a couple of kisses to his face feels like the best place to start. 
“And you don’t need to, if I had the chance to go back to the start and do this all over I would.”
“Wh- but why? All of those wasted years, all that time away from your home… why would you do it all again?”
“Because it means I get to be with you. I wouldn’t trade that for anything lilac.”
I’ll never get over how red he gets whenever I call him that, the reaction alone is priceless.
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lizaluvsthis · 8 months
Text
The Girl in Fatal Lavanders
Fanfic Written and Illustrated by @lizaluvsthis
Idea of creation by @itsajjanea
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First (Prologue)
Author's note: I'd like to thank @itsajjanea for drawing three that describes out the song Heathers by Conan Gray (I loved that song before and still do) the song gave so many feels <3
For now- onto the fanfic!
Summary: SMG4 has found someone new, much to Three's dismay. He couldn't help it but feel like something is wrong with his new "Girlfriend" and that there is something more going on with her than just being all 'kind' and 'polite' to people, especially with SMG4.
will SMG4 still end up being inlove with the Lavender Girl? or does he end up with Three's open heart
Tags: Enemies to Friends, Sun and Moon, angst, betrayal, catching feelings, comfort, hurt/comfort, drama, enemies to lovers, enemy, fluff, oblivious, slowburn, fruityass, gayness
Relationships:
SMG4/SMG3
Mario & Meggy Spletzer
Meggy & SMG3
SMG4 & Original Character
PuzzleVision(TvAdware) & Original Character
SMG3 & Mario
SMG4 & Mario
Beginning Chapter - 1 New Person, 1 New Goal
An announcement breaks out from the castle of SMG4's as he calls everyone. "The hell did you bring us here for?" Bob angrily asked, ruining his dating plans with another chick.
"Whatever it is, I don't care." Three calmly said sitting peacefully on the couch waiting for SMG4 to say something. "Prepare yourself to be blinded by this but..." 
"But first- promise you guys won't laugh..." SMG4 held back in reassurance from his crew's support. Boopkins being the bright one of the team, spoke. 
"Awe don't worry SMG4! We won't laugh or judge you!" SMG4 gave Boopkins a weak smile and proceeded, taking a deep breath. 
"I know it has been a few weeks now since I've gone out for a few or most days, I never bothered to check the castle much because I went away. Now that I'm back again... I wanted to surprise you all with something..."
"Ohhhhh is it spaghetti-os?" Mario cheered in excitement, but with a disapproving look on four's expression, he wasn't talking about that. "No, but it's something else... I uh- I've met someone new" 
Four gave a nervous chuckle at the end. The whole crew felt silent as they all began to laugh. SMG4 felt embarrassed and humiliated himself, grunting and blushing down. Mario spoke up.
"Are you sure you're not high or anything S-M-G-4 ? Or haven't you gotten enough B-tches from the past few years you've attempted dating a girl? Oh no wait- you don't have any!" This caused the whole crew to laugh even more, except for Boopkins and Meggy.
"C'mon, guys! At Least Four is trying his best here- say- SMG4, we haven't met this person yet- what's their name?" SMG4 looked at Meggy bringing his smile up again.
"This is a surprise everyone- but... here she is!" A door opens from the entrance, with a first footstep from the opening. Is seen with purple scandals following on with a pair of white socks exceeding up to the leg reach.
Slow opening, the person dressed in dark magenta overalls. With the length of the pants put a match near the sock's leg reach. With cute navy blue buttons, and lilac color of cloth from their shirt.
Up to the face with a smile, oddly enough with a non-patterned color of red as the hat's signature. Almost near to Mario's similar color but gave off soft and dark.
The symbol from the top spots out a "#" Then the hair gave out a brunette color, and the excess ends to the shoulder length gave out curls. 
Oddly enough, Lavender colored eyes are rare to have. And a mole near the corner of the left cheek.
She gently closed the door, seeing from her second hand, it was a phone with the color of cyan. "Hello there everyone! Wow! I'm super excited to meet you all!" Everyone went silent.
"Guys, meet my new girlfriend..." SMG4 let out his hand extending to the brunette. She gladly accepted the handhold, getting pulled slowly by SMG4s. She looked at everyone who still smiled, side-hugging SMG4 with his hand touching her back.
"Haha- very funny SMG4-" SMG3 crossed both of his arms, there is no way SMG4 could pull out someone with the likes of HER... (plus- she looks kinda mid...) SMG3 thought to himself squinting his eyes at Four's new 'Girlfriend's' face.
"Are you brain damaged?" Three pulled out his sarcasm to see how his 'girlfriend' would react to that and how she'd deal with it. Unfortunately for three, however, She was pretty aggressive for action so he brought back what he said.
"Aren't you emotionally unstable?" The crew went on with the hums of "oohs" as Four quieted them down pushing three out of the way. "Hey- slow down- we don't want to settle up fights here, right "Three"?" 
SMG4 tilts his head, side-eyeing at Three. He just wished that the man wouldn't do anything stupid. "Right." Angered by the purple and black. 
"Anyways- six, you have the microphone" SMG4 lets go of her to make the brunette feel welcomed and comfortable. "Hello everyone! My name is T-A-G-6, I'm just a lovely and polite girl who loves to play video games and helps out with editing videos! I do find memes funny too besides with this cutie" 
Six looked at Four with a smirk and winked at him, four giggled like a blushing boy from high school. This made Three's brows change out with a more angered expression giving her the looks.
"My name stands for 'Totally-Average-Girl' then there's six! You can call me Tag or Six if you prefer it that-" SMG3 decides to break in again, approaching her confidently smiling. 
For three who wanted to show her who's boss at being close with SMG4.
 "how about bombers? You sound like a horse and you play like a hooker tiny wrink-" 
TAG6 took a step back summoning a big solid grey hammer, whaming Three's chin then up to the roof where he gets thrown out to the space leaving him screaming.
"So- any questions?" Her left eye twitched from Three's sudden call from her. (Why he... better get a taste of his own medicine! ) Six pouted her mouth just putting a thought about Three's immediate reaction.
"Ooh! Ooh! How did you two meet?" Tari asked intrigued with TAG6's special skill and appearance. "Funny to answer that but- we met online" SMG4 walked in looking back at Tag's lavender eyes.
Four and Tag explained to the crew how they met while on a public server from multimedia works. Four noticed Tag has the same interest as him, and a few more days of him taking her on dates.
The two finally made it official. "Wait wait! Did you both kiss?" Saiko looked at the two with an amused look when Four and Tag struck eye contact and then back to her. "Umm- no we- haven't yet... we're taking this whole thing- slow..."
TAG6 made a sheepish grin and with Four scratching his back, "We uh- we're not there yet..." SMG4 looked down sadly but forced a smile just for TAG6 to not worry her.
"But- that's okay! We can- do that if... we're both ready..." simply patting Four's back gaining comfort from her.
The crew showered her with questions and conversations, as Meggy left in hopes of finding where SMG3 had gone right after TAG6 blew him off the roof.
"SMG3? Are you here?" She said following three foot tracks from the mud. "SMG3!" Meggy shouted his name to be left with faint sobs near the bush.
Meggy quietly sneaks in, to see SMG3 crying silently hugging both of his knees. "What am I gonna do now? Four has a girlfriend and he didn't even tell me... I don't even know WHY this bothers me so much-" 
Meggy felt bad at Three, he didn't deserve any of this. She began to back away but snapped a twig from under, getting Three's attention as he looked at the sound.
"Squid. What are you doing here...? Came to make fun of me?" SMG3 wiped out his tears after seeing Meggy, getting up properly from the ground.
"I didn't mean to barge in like that, I saw you crying and... well- sorry..." Meggy held her left elbow in a single shell of comfort.
Three sighed, but seeing him not pushing or telling the orange squid to go away. She continued. "He means so much to you if that's what I would've guessed" 
Meggy stood next to him, looking down at the ground. "Ever since before and after three, I know. I saw how you acted... you know, you can't keep your feelings in there for too long" 
“I can’t say that I’d let it all out only idiots do that.” 
Meggy turns around. “It’s your choice, only you decide what you pick. Please remember SMG3… it’s not healthy to cover up wounds without someone doing so.” 
“But at all costs, you’ll be okay three” Meggy placed her hand to his shoulder. “I can’t promise that sh-t.” SMG3 shrugs off Meggy’s hand leaving her out of the way.
—-
In the castle, SMG4 enjoys getting compliments on how he just got a girlfriend along with them congratulating him. For Mario however, he doesn’t see anything changing from the man.
“Boy, you sure know how to charm a woman SMG4” Mario gave out a laugh to which SMG4 gave along. “Guess I bring out my luck to 'em” he finger guns at TAG6 with a wink.
TAG6 played along to her role, acting in love, acting happy, acting fine, acting okay. Everything was fake behind the mask, she felt anger, disgust, hatred, and pity with his crew and SMG4 to himself.
(How cheesy could this guy get along with his members? It’s so boring…) The goop who controls its own human body, rolled its eyes for who knows how many?
But no matter… I still have the Meme Guardian in our grasp, there is no way of escape for the man and the plan itself…
TAG6 made a sly face behind his shoulder. This plan is just getting started…
“Hey! U-uh- Meggy Spletzer… was it?” She caught the orange squid’s attention by surprise. “Yep, that's my name! You know me from somewhere?” Tag gets too excited and squirms, hugging Meggy tightly in results crushing her ribs.
“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD- OH MY GOD!!! I’M SUCH A BIG FAN! I SAW YOU ON TV, YOU WON ON SPLATOON FEST!” Tag shook her from side to side, nuzzling under her neck. “Sorry- heh…Again- I’m such a big fan!” Disgusting. 
Meggy swoons her head from left to right, trying to recover her strength after Tag lets her go. “How long have you been a fan? Now that's a shock, but- well- it’s an honor to be known as your splat star!” 
(Everything is going smoothly as it is… remember the plan… get close to his friends and never let them know about his disappearance.)
With a quick glance on the brunette’s, it is now Mario’s turn again to speak with his closest friend. “Don't you feel a bit happier now that you got a girlfriend SMG4?” Mario asked, in such a simple question. 
This made SMG4 rethink about his whole life, yeah he is happy that he got a girlfriend. But why does he feel like something else is missing? Why did it feel so wrong? Where does he even get this? It couldn’t possibly be SMG3.
The SMG3 he knew wouldn’t be having these kinds of feelings to him… right…? He's never been the intimate guy that he knew who would be pulling these stuffs... or would he...? Nah- three doesn't have these stuff its just SMG4 being an overthinker...
But really tho... he doesnt have these feelings to him right...?
Right…?
“Pshh- You’re talking nonsense Mario- TAG6 is a perfect girl and a perfect person to me! Why would I be less happy about this?” SMG4 re-arranged his hat and pulled his collar.
It felt that something inside of him cracked, from this hurting and deep tingling he’s touched. He couldn’t get a hint.
Mario points up his hand, speaking of his joy rate. The more the red italian spent the time with SMG4, the more he knew every move and every breath of his best friend.
There is a high difference on how he acts around them, yet this one is giving him a vibe that- he couldn’t understand.
Something is telling him that this person does NOT have a soul… nor this person is even living...
——
Next Chapter - One is off, theres two but one
[PENDING...]
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bitchyfoxymama · 1 year
Text
I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship - Rhaenyra x F!Reader - Modern AU
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Alternatively: We Should Be Lovers Instead
Warnings: friends to lovers, lesbian x bisexual, the children still exist in this!, Alicent playing matchmaker, brief mention of homophobia, Daemon and Harwin, Fluff, smut will be in part 2!
A/N: it's lesbian visibility week and as your fav lesbian author it is my duty to write WxW fics this week! Boys are taking a backseat this week sorry yall!
Beta read by @howaboutcastiel
...
"Rhaenyra darling, you're my best friend," you say in front of the mirror to yourself. You've been pacing for the last 30 minutes, "I wanna ruin our friendship. We should be lovers instead. No, no, no. Ah, come on y/n you can do this!" 
Rhaenyra has had 2 failed relationships, which gave her 5 wonderful boys who all call you auntie and whom you'd die for. But it's time to put on the big girl panties and confess your feelings to her so that you can either finally get together with her or move on after she lets you down. 
"Okay okay okay," you pull out your phone and dial Alicent, your other best friend and confidant. She's the only one to know of your feelings for the Targaryen. 
"I can't do it, Ali," you whine the moment she picks up, forgoing letting her greet you. 
"Darling Y/n, if you don't confess to Nyra today, I will go over there and kick your ass. How many times have I told you she feels the same for you and has for just as long as you have?" 
"You really think she feels the same way I do?" You know she can't see the face you’re making currently, but she can hear it. 
"Y/n, you were as much her gay awakening as she was yours. Remember in 8th grade at Lannisters’ boy girl party when the bottle landed on you?" She is hoping to calm your nerves just a bit. 
"Yeah? What about it?" You try to remember that dumb party that happened nearly 2 decades ago. 
You had just gotten your braces on the very week of Jason Lannister’s birthday party. You knew none of the boys wanted to kiss you since you had braces, and that made you nervous.
You'd realized you were only into girls not even 3 months prior, but had been keeping it in, in fear of bullying and the fact that you had a very obvious not obvious crush on Rhaenyra Targaryen. You'd confided in Alicent Hightower about your realization, and she had affirmed her friendship with you even though she came from a highly religious background. She told you nothing would stop the two of you from being friends. 
You were all sitting in a circle with an empty glass bottle in the middle. You prayed to the Seven that your turn didn't land on any of the boys. Sure, Harwin and Jason were good-looking, and landing on them wouldn't be ‘bad’ per se, but you'd dread it if you actually had to kiss them. 
It was as if the Seven, the old gods and any diety out there had been looking upon you at that moment because when Rhaenyra spun the bottle instead of landing on the one person she had been hoping for—Harwin Strong, whom she had a very obvious crush on—it instead landed on you. Her best friend since diapers. 
"Uh… you can spin again, Nyra. You don't have to kiss a girl." Jason eyed you directly into your soul. Like he knew your secret. 
"Huh? No, a turn is a turn. I don't mind kissing Y/n. She's my best friend. You don't mind me kissing you, do you?" She looked at you with those beautiful lilac eyes. 
"Y-yeah, I don't mind," you managed out. 
"Then it's settled," Rhaenyra said as she started to crawl across the way to you. When she was near, she sat down and gently placed a hand on your cheek while her free hand lay on yours. She closed her eyes and leaned in. You kept yours open until the last possible second, and only when her nose brushed against your cheek did they finally close.
Her lips were soft, and they tasted like strawberries. The kiss didn’t last long, but you wished she didn't pull away when she did. You both smiled at one another. You wished you could tell her how you feel. You never expected it to take 20 years, a few failed relationships on both of your parts. 
"That was the same night she told me she had enjoyed that kiss. That you were her own gay awakening, or rather bisexual awakening," Alicent hums through the phone. 
"I-she never told me that," you blush at the thought of Rhaenyra enjoying your first kisses being with each other. 
There’s a knock at your door stopping you from continuing your conversation with Alicent. 
"Hey, Ali, I'm gonna need to call you back. There’s someone at the door.” You fail to hear the excited squeal she lets out as she tells you that you'd better answer. 
When you open the door to your apartmentment, you are met with the eyes of the woman you have been in love with since you were thirteen, at Jason Lannister's first boy-girl party. Rhaenyra Targaryen. 
"Nyra? What are you doing here—” you don't get to finish your sentence before her lips are on yours, devouring you. You are stunned, and it takes you a second to kiss her back, which causes her to pull away. You snake your fingers in her long hair and pull her back into you while you kick the door shut with your foot. 
You both tumble onto your couch, a mix of kisses and hands grabbing anywhere they can. She has one hand on the back of your head while her other is secured holding your waist.
Unfortunately, oxygen is needed for both of you to live. If you could have it any other way, the sound of her moans while she’s on top of you would be enough to sustain you. 
"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for you to make a move, perzītsos?" 
Little Flame. She's used that name on you for years, but hearing her say it as you've both just finished making out on your couch. It’s different. 
You hold her face in your hands as you stare up at her, a small smile gracing your lips. 
"You never seemed interested. You were off with Harwin and then Daemon. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but when I called Ali after pacing for half an hour worrying about what to say to you, she finally told me what I'd been waiting for since we were thirteen. That you had felt that same spark I did all those years ago." 
Rhaenyra lets out a hardy laugh when you mention Alicent’s name. She leans down and kisses you once more. 
"Ali sent me a text telling me to confess today. I said ‘to hell with it’ and came straight over." 
Your smile grows bigger on your face as you realize something.
"Hey Nyra? I want to ruin our friendship. We should be lovers instead." 
She smirks down at you as her hair curtains you both.
"Good, because we have a lot of catching up to do." she says as she kisses you once more.
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Text
Cool for the Summer 3
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.
Characters: Bucky Barnes
Note: another week of the grind.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Your peaceful awakening is quickly undermined by recollection. You look around at the room, the physical changes mirroring those less tangible. The bookshelves, the vanity, the rug. You sit up and sigh. You should be grateful but you’re just overwhelmed.
You get up and stretch as you walk around the bed. You’re pretty sure he’s still there. You go to the dresser. You took your time putting away your clothes, just to distract yourself.
You listen to the hallway before you peek around your door. You cross the hall and knock before you lock yourself in the bathroom. You can’t help but think of your unexpected run-in last night. As you do, your hip tingles where Bucky’s hand was.
You shake it off and strip down. You leave your clothes by the sink and hang a fresh towel on the bar. You waste no time washing up as every noise has you jumping and flinching. The door might be locked but you can’t help but feel uneasy about the extra body in the house.
As you get out, you realise you didn’t entirely think this through. You grabbed a towel but not fresh clothes. You could put on the dirty ones but for what? Just to go change again?
You pat off the excess water and wrap yourself in the towel. You gather up your clothes and near the door. You put your ear to the door and wait. You don’t hear anything.
You come out slowly and tiptoe down the hall. You near your door and jump as you notice the figure you didn’t see before. Bucky stands at the top of the stairs. He watches you as you stop and hug your clothes tighter. You gulp. Where did he come from?
“Uh, sorry, I didn’t know you were awake. I was just about to put on some coffee and was going to ask…” his eyes drift down and you shift on your feet as your bare legs prickle. “Um, uh, did you drink coffee? I can make enough for everyone.”
“Er, sure,” you utter after a crackling cough.
Your voice jerks you into action and you quickly retreat into your room. You nap the door shut, hiding behind it, and close your eyes in full-body cringe. Of course! You always have the worst timing.
You shake your head but can’t shed the heat that encases you. You just feel strange. The way he gaped, the way his eyes roved over you, and the night before. Him walking around without a shirt, touching your hip, calling you ‘baby girl’.
You drop your clothes on the bed and go to the dresser. You take out a pair of lilac shorts and frilly baby doll shirt. You lay them on the wood and sift around for a pair of boy shorts. You pull out a plain cotton pair and narrow your eyes at the wall.
How did he not know you were awake? You can always hear the shower from downstairs. He may have thought it was your mom but if they’ve been seeing each other for a while, he’d know she loves to sleep in on her days off.
You pull on your underwear and your basic white bra. You slip into your shorts but leave the shirt on the dresser. You go to the vanity and sit down as you search through your toiletry bag. You spread moisturiser over your skin and neck. Your eyes catch the carved roses around the frame, the layers delicately crafted.
You should thank Bucky. For real. Not that stunned and dumb thanks he got yesterday. You’re in no hurry to talk to him after what just happened though.
You get up and stretch your arms up. You turn and cross the room to grab your shirt. You pull it on and linger by the end of the bed. You pace around restlessly. You can’t hide up here for two long. He’ll know you’re avoiding him.
Well, he isn’t there for you. He’s your mom’s boyfriend. You shouldn’t worry so much about him. It’s just that stupid thing that gets in your head when it comes to boys. Boys? You’re an adult. So is he. And he’s much older. He’s a man and well above your age bracket.
It’s silly to even suspect that. You’re just adjusting to him being around. That’s all it is. You never had a man in the house; no father, no male roommates. You’ve always felt safer around women. Or alone.
You grip the door knob and turn. You look down as you feel the cool crystal. That’s new too.
You pull inward and step into the hall. You can hear the grind of the coffee machine from the kitchen. As you make your way to the stairs, you examine the walls, the floor, the railing. Funny that the rest of the house is the same when there’s that creaky step four down and the bathroom door is slightly crooked in the frame.
Your descent is forewarned by the very same groaning stair. You wince as you put your weight on it and hesitate to go further. You follow the scent of coffee into the kitchen. As much as you’d like to avoid another encounter, you need to clear the fog from your head.
As you enter the kitchen, Bucky stands with his back to you. He doesn’t seem to hear you. He kneads his neck with his fingers and pushes his head back. He grunts and he strains and stretches, letting out a rumble as he drops his arms.
“Erm, ahem,” you linger at the door. “Can I get a cup?”
“Oh shit—shoot,” he turns and leans on the counter with a chuckle. He grins as you sway uncertaintly. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you—let me--”
“It’s okay, I can get one,” you scurry forward but before you can get there, he has the cupboard open. He turns and takes down a cup. The teal one with the daisy on it. That’s your favourite. “Oh, thanks.”
“No problem,” he winks as you look at him only to quickly shy away. He slides it over to you as the machine spout drips. “Afraid you caught me at a bad moment. I think I slept weird. Got this kick and I can feel it…” he points along his trap, just beneath the thin fabric of his tee shirt, “right here but I just can’t get in there. Fingers are too… thick.”
“Mm, that sounds… uncomfortable.”
“Sure is. I wanted to mow the lawn to surprise your mom but I don’t know,” he explains.
You grab the carafe from the burner and fill your cup. He’s quiet as you feel him watching you. He spreads his hand flat on the counter top. Is he leaning in?
“Hey, this might be weird but do you think you could do me a favour? You got small hands and--”
“Hmm?” Your eyes round in surprise. You think you know what he means but you don’t want to say it.
“You could just press into the muscle. See if you can loosen it up.” He lifts his hand slightly, stand his hand up on his fingers. “If that’s-- if you’re okay with that? If not, I might find a pen or something.”
“Well, er, I guess…” you glance up as his cheek ticks and he rubs his neck with a groan.
“Really, if you don’t want to--”
“It’s… if it hurts… I just wouldn’t want to make it worse,” you stutter, running your fingertips up and down the handle of your mug.
“Oh, I don’t think you can make anything worse,” he smirks. “Really, you’d be doing me a big favour, baby girl.”
There’s that name again. You’re not brave enough to call him out on it. You shrug.
“Okay,” you agree, “how, er…”
He looks around, “oh, uh, I’ll sit.”
He steps away from the counter and crosses to the other side of the kitchen. He sits on the dining table and you hover where you are. You turn slowly to follow. You approach him as he pushes his shoulders wide.
“Where… how…” you don’t know how to ask.
“Just here,” he points to the side of his neck.
“Al…right,” you drawl dumbly and bring your hands up. You gently touch him and he purrs. You rub his skin and feel the goosebumps rise.
“Just a little firmer, baby girl,” he hums.
You push your fingertips into his neck and knead. He groans louder and leans his head forward. He drones then choke.
“Mmm, I think…” He leans away from you and you drop your hand. “Here, it’s under my shoulder,” he rasps. “Let me just--” he reaches back and tugs his shirt up. He peels it off and you blanch. You’re happy he can’t see your face. “Just here…”
He points over his shoulders and you stare at his muscles. Your eyes wander up to the back of his head and the streaks of silver and dark brown. You glance back down. You’ve seen some boys with their shirts off as they ran across campus or when they were hanging out with your roommates but you’ve never been this close.
“Um…” you reach for him and gently trace along his muscle, “here?”
“Just along the blade, baby girl.” You move your finger and he purrs. “Oh yeah. That’s it. Oh… harder…” he hangs his head again and grips his thighs. “That’s so good.”
He gasps as you feel some resistance and then it loosens. You roll your finger against him and he breathes slowly. You stop and pull your hand back.
“Is that good?” You ask.
He puffs out a few more times. He sucks in a deep breath and sits up. He rolls his shoulders and sighs.
“Oh, god, yes,” he moves his head back and forth. “Wow, you got that magic touch.” He stands, keeping his shirt in his hand. “Mmm, I feel young again.”
You flutter your fingers and nod as he faces you. You shy away back to the counter but stop yourself from taking your mug. You look at him over your shoulder.
“You want some too?” You ask.
“You’re so sweet, baby girl. Sure. I’ll have some but I’m gonna go get the mower out. Mind bringing it to me?” He suggests.
You nod again, almost furiously. You just want some space. Your fingers are hot and tingly.
“Just black, thanks.”
You turn to the counter again and open the cupboard. You listen to him go and focus on pouring a second cup. You add some milk to your own and take a mouthful, savouring it before you make yourself take his.
You bring the cup with you and stop by the door to step into a pair of slides. You come outside as you hear him rolling the mower out of the open garage. He’s still shirtless. It’s pretty hot out. You come down the steps and near him.
“Hi, your coffee,” you announce as you balance the cup.
“Oh, wonderful,” he smiles as he takes it. “Thanks.”
He raises the cup to his lips and drinks deeply. His chest fills with air and looks even bigger. He’s in pretty good shape. Not just for his age but in general. You shouldn’t think about that though.
“Er, I hate to ask you for more but the suns blazing. You mind getting my back?” He turns and dips into the garage. You peek around as he puts his cup down then takes a bright orange bottle; sunscreen.
You blink. Oh my. You bounce nervously on your feet. You look around. You want to say no. You should. It isn’t inappropriate but it feels like it.
The sunlight glints at the end of your vision. You clamp your lips tight and come forward. You reach for the bottle and he hands it over.
“Here,” he says as you take it. He turns and presents his back.
Reluctantly, you pop the cap open and squeeze the lotion into your palm. You bend to put the bottle down and rub your hand together, then turn them out. You press them to his back and drag them around his skin.
You smear the sunscreen but it’s greasy and doesn’t absorb easily. You keep rubbing until it starts to seep into his skin. He groans, like before and leans his head back. As he does, you sense something else. Something lower down.
He reaches back blindly and brushes his fingers up your thigh, toying with the edge of your shorts. You stop, flattening your hands against him, and look down. You pull your hands away and step out of his reach.
“I…” you swallow. “My coffee will get cold.”
You turn and flee without looking back. You can only think one thing; it didn’t happen, it didn’t happen… and if it did, it wasn’t what you thought.
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