#lmao rip at least this is finally done
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greyias · 1 year ago
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A run of weeklies or two to grab a bunch of gray items to throw at unsuspecting party guests? Check. The last known stacks in the galaxy of non-legacy bound snacks for sharing? Check. Inventory stupidly full? Check. Me and companion decked to the nines? Check.
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Aw yis. Ready to party. (On Saturday.)
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rosenclaws · 2 months ago
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One More Present || Logan Howlett drabble
summary: Logan has one more present for you
warnings: light smut, STILL MINORS DNI AND 18+ ONLY TY, light bondage lol
wc: 546
a/n: So this is a really stupid drabble I thought it would be funny and so here it is lmao. To all the people who wanted a wolverine under their Christmas tree <3
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Christmas with your neighbors was more fun than you've had in a long time. It was also the most you've drank in a while. Wade really went all out with his party and his gifts.
Though you really didn't need the uh, interesting picture calendar he had put together for everyone. You're pretty sure you saw Logan throw his into the fireplace when Wade wasn't looking.
The day after Christmas was spent doing pretty much nothing. Logan had taken refuge in your bed as he normally does since you started dating but he was forced to go back to help the clean up. Waking up without your personal space heater was a lonely experience but he left you his flannel at least.
Unfortunately for you, you couldn't escape going back to work and were trapped at your boring job wishing you could be home with Logan instead. Your phone pinged and you looked to see a text from Logan.
Wade's finally fucking gone.
You laugh as you can picture just how much Wade had gotten on Logan's nerves today.
I'm almost done, I miss you
You text back. Logan accidently hits a few different things before finally thumbs uping your message. He really was an old man with technology sometimes. As the time ticked and you were nearing the end of the day you got one more message.
Found something in our bedroom, I think you have one more present to open.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. You can't remember leaving anything and Logan isn't really one for surprise gifts. He would have given it to you yesterday. As you clocked out you tried to call him but he didn't pick up. Weird.
"Logan?" You call as you step through the door.
"In here!" He calls from the bedroom. You shrug off your coat and drop your bag, expecting to find him lounging on the bed or something.
"Hey what..." Your voice trails off as you walk into the room. Logan was laying in bed for sure, but completely naked.
He's smirking as he sits in his totally naked glory. His abs are on full display, thick thighs, and big arms. You swear he was...shiny? But you weren't complaining.
What really catches your eyes is his fat cock, a big red bow tied around it. The red ribbon trailed up his body and sat at one of his wrists which tied him to the bedframe. His muscles flex as he sits up.
"How did you know this is what I asked Santa for?" You tease as you move over to the bed, admiring your stupidly hot boyfriend. He shrugs, the ribbon straining against his muscles.
"You got one more present sweetheart." He looks down to the bow.
"Want to unwrap it?" You smirk as you slowly strip your clothes.
"Merry Christmas to me." You purr as you climb onto the bed.
He watches with hungry eyes as you take the edge of the bow in your teeth and pull it, freeing his cock. Winking as you lower your head. Logan groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, dancing your tongue just the way he likes it. He tugs on the ribbon and somehow it doesn't rip.
"Hope that ribbon can hold you, because I want to have a little fun tonight."
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callme-darling · 1 year ago
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work tensions
or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats
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word count: 3.3k
warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)
a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍
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you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.
from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.
you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.
some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.
when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.
you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.
“what the hell is your problem?��
you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.
his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.
with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.
you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”
your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”
his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”
you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”
“i need a reason to dislike you?”
“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”
he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”
your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“
you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”
he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”
“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”
you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”
you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”
maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.
what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.
a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.
he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.
he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”
you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.
you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”
you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.
his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.
when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.
your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.
‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.
and so, he did.
his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.
impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.
there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.
you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.
his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”
your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”
you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.
he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.
“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.
you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”
vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.
“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.
you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.
vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.
finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.
his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.
“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”
you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.
his touch leaves you.
you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.
his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”
you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.
“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”
you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”
the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.
“oh fuck y-“
his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.
you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”
you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.
“three..”
you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.
“two..”
he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”
“on-“
“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.
he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.
“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.
“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”
you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.
he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”
you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”
he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.
a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.
you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.
his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.
you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”
“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.
“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”
you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.
he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.
you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.
you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.
vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”
you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.
your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.
to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.
“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”
he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.
“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.
his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.
“i’d like that, yes.”
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noblehouseofgay · 3 months ago
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Lighter
Jegulus and Black Brothers microfic
Hurt/comfort
Trans Regulus
Ty @allonsy-moony for like half the dialogue lmao
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Piles of ink soaked paper sat scattered around the floor, with Regulus in the middle. His tear stained cheeks shined as he flicked a lighter on, holding it to a page.
His hand shook as he held the lighter. It was a deep blue with stars scratched onto it. He'd stolen it from Sirius' room at Grimmauld. He'd left it behind, along with Regulus.
So here he sat. Surrounded by unsent letters. Ready to torch them. It was too much to feel.
The door opened, revealing James walking in. His eyes widened and he dove forward, grabbing the lighter.
"Regulus-! No- no, no, baby, no..."
James tossed the lighter aside and sat by Regulus. Sitting close, but not touching.
"I was using that."
Unable to burn it, he grabbed the letter and crumpled it, throwing it against the wall.
"Reggie, no, don't do that. It's okay-"
"NO! Fuck this!"
"Regulus-"
"No! I will not- push myself to leave that house if he doesn't even want me! He thinks I left him? He left me!" His eyes started to glisten. "He replaced me. Years. Ago. And I finally try and let him back in- a-and he thinks I don't love him? He- was everything to me-"
James gently pulled Regulus against his chest, lightly stroking his hair. "I know baby....it's not fair"
"I watched him choose a new brother! I watched him switch me out like I was nothing!" Regulus was crying now, with uneven breaths and hiccuping."
"Shh..Regulus...shh..." James was desperately trying to calm him, but Regulus couldn't stop now. This had built up for years and he finally felt safe enough to let it out.
"You wouldn't choose between us...and I trust that...but he acts like I can't have you. I offered to leave you. I told him I would break up with you if it would save us the pain. And he told me no." Regulus laughed humorlessly. "You know, maybe I should love you more. At least you treat me like I deserve love."
"Regulus of course you deserve love..."
"Well why can't he love me anymore?! Have they destroyed me so much that there's no part of me he wants?"
"Regulus, none of this is your fault."
"No. But that doesn't mean he doesn't see her when he looks at me." Regulus didn't know if he meant "her" as in his mother, or the girl he used to be. Either way, the thought burned him to his core.
James sighed, rubbing Regulus' arms softly. "He's...just struggling right now. It doesn't excuse how he's been treating you, but it's the truth."
"And I want to be there for him!" He wiped his face with his sleeve. "If anyone fucking understands how he feels it's me! I just-" he sighed, "I don't know what to do, James. I'm trying....but I think I've forgotten how to be nice. That version of me...died years ago. But I'm trying..."
James hugged him tighter. Regulus leaned into him, desperate to hide from the world.
"If I told him how much I missed him I think he would just stare at me...we can barely have a conversation without me wanting to rip out my own tongue."
Regulus sighed, finally breathing steadily again. "I don't want him miserable...not anymore at least. But I just want him to like me again."
"That's on him, Regulus. Not on you, okay?"
"Isn't it though? I must have done something. I mean I did my fair share of forcing us apart."
"Baby, no. That isn't your fault. It's neither of your faults. It's that house. You two didn't do it. They did."
Regulus went quiet. "Sometimes I want them dead..."
James gently lifted Regulus from the floor, carrying him to the bed. "So do I..." He murmured.
"I've thought about it you know...but I think they'd haunt me."
James hummed. "Hm, no. I think they'd be too busy burning in hell."
Regulus laughed weakly. "....I still like them sometimes...they're the only parents I have...so sometimes it's nice to pretend that they like me."
James laid them in bed, pulling the comforter up. Regulus went limp on top of him, burying his face into James' neck.
"Life is stupid..."
"I know, baby...I know." James kissed the top of Regulus' head, petting him gently, trying to coax him into sleep. He hummed a soft song, slowly putting the smaller boy at ease. James heard Regulus' breaths become deeper. He kissed his head once more, and put out the lights with a silent flick of a wand.
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snailsgoingdowntown · 1 day ago
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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!
‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader
Chapter 16
  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15
Arranged marriage AU
Interact with this linked post to be added to the tag list.
Entire chapter is Dion’s/Ash’s POV, takes place during the day of chapter 14 during the beginning scene of when Dion and Reader share a moment that is not nice in her mind. He is also out of character again lmao
Edit: LMAO I FUCKED UP THE TITLE OF MY OWN FIC. can you tell I wrote this entire thing in one setting while very tired? God now I need to check the other chapters lol
NOTE: Dion is having a very small crisis towards the end. Also, I do not know how to write fight scenes. I’m also getting kind of tired of saying ‘male’. Also two chapters within two days!? I'm on a roll baby! (I will proceed to not update for at least a week since life gets in the way/motivation/ideas won't come to me)
Warnings: slight yandere themes, themes of obsessive and possessive behavior/thoughts, toxic marriage/relationship, murder, blood, threats of injury/murder, slight torture (probably?), mention of divorce (it almost does not end well, rip Ash lol), Dion accidentally gets hurt (it’s his own fault), attempted murder, mention of past murder, implied murder (I think?), implied threats of injury, thoughts of imprisoning the reader at the end but he decides against it, implied stalking, HEAVY VIOLENCE Dion’s actions are toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.
NSFW-ISH WARNINGS:  (NO SEXUAL ACTIVITY ACTUALLY TAKES PLACE) suggestive, implied vaginal pain (I think), throw back to their first time, implied perverted thoughts (Dion), Lant once again being a pos, encouraging Dion to force himself on the Reader, implied/mentioned past sexual activities, implied past Dub-con. Please tell me if I missed any.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.
MINORS/BLANK BLOGS, BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI
“How's married life?” 
Boredom fills the voice of the redhead doctor as he dabs a cotton ball on the patient’s wound, crimson soaking into the fluffy white cotton. Once done treating it, he starts to wrap it up a little too tight, irritated that a certain Agriche got distracted, slipped down a slope full of sharp rocks and thus, sliced his arm open. So unlike him and yet, he still saw it coming from miles away.
God forbid if anyone in this hunting party listens.
“... why are you asking?” Dion questions back, narrowing his eyes, glaring daggers into the very doctor who’s treating his wounds. Still, it’s not like Ash would harm any of his patients, as he was well above that. Even with someone like him.
However, Dion Agriche often challenges his views and morals. He had always thought of the second eldest as a fool - however, ever since he got engaged to you, he became more so of one. While smart and talented in many areas - hunting, sword fighting, ballroom dancing, leading hunting parties for both monsters and animals alike, maybe a musical instrument or two if memory serves correct, and of course, assassinting - by the Gods, is his personality a nasty one.
“Am I not allowed to? After seeing the mess she was after your first night… I worry for her. Poor girl probably lost faith in God the moment she saw your face.” Ash bites back, tying the bandage up and securing it with pins before patting it down hard. He holds back a smile when THE Dion Agriche flinches at the pain.
It doesn’t matter if it was physical or emotional - pain is pain. Although, it would be better if it was both, finally hitting his employer where it hurts the most. But Dion always bites back.
“You’re rather mouthy for someone I could cut down easily.” Dion's threat is empty, but the urge to throttle the doctor remains. While he wouldn’t kill the man, putting him in a full body cast would settle some things.
Ash only sighs with a shake of his head. Gesturing your husband to put his shirt and black arm sleeves back on, the redhead starts to clean and put his medical supplies away. Currently, the two of them are alone in a tent that was hastily set up, the rest of the hunting party members outside eating dinner. The sun had barely set.
“Come now, I even tended to the poor girl as a free favor. Surely, answering a question or two isn’t that hard - consider it payment for that black eye I left with.”
“And I’ll leave another one on the other eye.”
“... why must you always be so violent? It’s clear that your wife isn’t fond of violence - much less you.” He hits where it hurts, patting the ‘poor’ man’s shoulder as he buttons up his uniform shirt. He watches with great interest when the black haired noble stiffens before resuming his task.
‘So, it’s not going all that great…’
“I mean, it’s only natural for me to ask, taking the fact you personally invited me to the wedding into account.” Ash continues to dig for answers, enjoying the way his scarlet hues become hollow and unfocused. Had he been a better man, the doctor would have pity the newly wed noble some more. 
But Dion Agriche is nowhere close to even a decent person.  
“It’s…,” his low and tired voice trails off before he stands and straightens his clothes out, “fine. Nothing for you to worry about.” A lie paired with another lie. How unlike him. 
“Hm. Sure.” 
Dion leaves the tent without another word, leaving the doctor behind.
As soon as he steps out, one of his men rushes over to him. Dion's mood only sours more, not wanting to interact with anyone just yet.
“Sir, we haven’t found any traces of the monsters. The entire area is empty.” The jet black haired noble can’t stop a brow from raising. 
The brunette delivers the news in a hurry, out of breath. Your husband notices the way he tries to keep his voice down, eyeing everyone behind him. Weird. 
Closer inspection revealed the dirt on his boots and leaves in his hair. But towards the chest, there’s a speck of red on the purple accents that’s barely hidden away by the cloak. 
It’s even slightly damp. His sleeves look a bit too short as well. The gloves don’t look right, not fitting the fingers, slightly sliding off with each gesture of his hands. Scarlet eyes zone in on them before returning to the soldier’s face.
The hair looks a bit lighter. The eyes are a bit deeper.
“How far did you go?” Dion asks as he comes back down to earth.
“Oh!” The soldier straightens up before going on to tell him the details. Your husband listens with little interest, already looking at the area from where the soldier just came from. And then, he glances around the camp, eyes landing on each person once. Once he’s done with relaying the information, Dion walks past him. 
The brunette follows. “Is something the matter, sir?” He follows until the chatter of the camp becomes distant. He runs into Dion’s sturdy back as the man comes to an abrupt stop. Gently rubbing his nose, the shorter man backs up.
“I must admit you have guts.” Dion’s voice is low, mockery laced in it despite ‘praising’ him. 
“...huh?” 
In a flash, his gloved hand slams the other man’s neck against a tree trunk. The bark bites into the exposed skin of his neck while his face turns red. Gasping for breath, the man makes a futile attempt to claw at Dion’s gloved hand.
His legs kick and kick, but it does little to help. Scarlet eyes stare at him emotionless, and the sight of the glowing orbs sends chills down his spine. “It’s amusing how you thought you could replace one of my men.” He chuckles low and deep, increasing the pressure on the poor man’s neck.
“But I have memorized each and every one of their traits - from their eye color to the way they even walk. Not to mention I didn’t order them to look for any monsters in the near vicinity.”   
The black haired man considers snapping his neck right at this moment. But his actions are halted when he hears a twig snap under someone’s foot.
He scowls once the familiar voice reaches his ears. His eyes narrow at how annoying the new addition sounds.
“Is this really necessary? How about we find out what happened to the victim before killing the perpetrator,” Ash advises as he gets closer. He stops once he’s two feet away from the now angered man.
Close to being enraged but not yet, irked that one fool thought he was stupid while the other had just interrupted his actions.
“Dion.” Ash tries again. “Ask questions first. You can do whatever with him later, after we get answers.” 
A hiss of annoyance and Dion drops the man. While he’s coughing for breath, with his boot Dion delivers a hard kick to the imposter’s stomach that has him wheezing for breath. Ash sighs in exasperation at the scene unfolding before him. 
‘Once a brute, always a brute.’
“Talk. Maybe I’ll be merciful depending on your answers.” 
“Arg! W-wait, fuck, wait!” He raises his hands as he surrounders. “I’m not the one who killed him - I was just given the uniform. Honest!”
The two standing men share a look.
“Regardless of who killed him, didn’t you at least consider that maybe everyone would notice you weren’t originally part of the party?” Ash squats to the enemy’s height, observing the hand mark that now decorates his neck. “Unless you’re an idiot.” 
“I wa-wasn’t supposed to get too close to the others… just to lure you away.” He stares up at your husband the entire time while clutching at his stomach. Saliva drips from his mouth as he shakes. He looks more pathetic than a terrified dog.
“How far? I’m assuming just a bit further away from here.” The Agriche continues the integration. His head tilts when the idiotic imposter nods. 
Ash looks up at him. “Should we call for reinforcements? It’s probably not a good idea for you to go alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have you.”
“...huh?”
- - -
Against his own will, Ash follows close behind the prisoner and warden. His arms are wrapped around himself as a cold breeze starts to pick up. His long red hair sways in the wind as Dion’s hood flops back due to the direction of the sudden wind.
“I’m not a fighter, you know this.”
“Right.”
“I’m a doctor - I help the wounded, I don’t give injuries. I don’t even have the training of a swordsman - unlike you.” Ash continues to complain, wanting nothing more than to kick your husband straight in the ass. 
“Right.” Dion’s one word replies are dismissive - the doctor doubts he’s listening at all. 
All the while the brunette is being dragged by the collar. He only listens in silence as the two assumed co-workers or something of that sort have a one sided argument or conversation. He can’t tell what it was. 
“You have like what, thirty men?”
“Thirty five.” He takes a pause before correcting himself. “Well, now it’s thirty four.”
“Thirty four? And you choose me, a weak and mild doctor -”
“More like an annoying one,” Dion cuts in, starting to regret bringing Ash along. He forgot how… yappy he can be. Even with the amount of money he pays him, he always has something to complain about. 
“... If your wife ever divorces you, I’ll help her in every way I -”
SNAP
Twigs break in half under your husband’s feet, the prisoner choking as the taller man turns on his feet so quickly it gives him whiplash. Ash immediately shuts his mouth as shadows start to cover the sharp features of Dion’s face. His eyes glow in the moonlight. His scarlet eyes are narrowed, filled with unsaid threats, glare so sharp it cuts into his very soul. 
The redhead takes a step back as his employer towers over him. He breaks out into a cold sweat, the forest having become silent - like every animal in the vicinity sensed the bloodlust of this obsessed man and went into hiding. 
It feels like death itself is breathing down his back, his stomach twisting and turning painfully. His mouth becomes dry, and he can hear every breath Dion takes. So, this is what it feels like, to be on the sharp side of Dion’s blade.
He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. The air becomes suffocating. 
“... it was a joke.” Ash says slowly, unable to look away from the grim reaper. A quick glance to his hands shows that they are both tightly clenched. The enemy is shivering in fear as well, worried for his own safety.
One wrong move and he’ll lose his head, it doesn’t matter if he wasn’t involved with the conversation. The fact he’s here at all spells out his doom.
This rage was different from the one that was directed towards him. He doesn’t know who the wife - you are, but at the mention of divorce, Dion became a different man. A worse man.
Did you mean that much to him? Or was it a pride thing?
“...A joke? I didn’t realize my marriage was a joke to you.” Husky and deep, your husband’s voice sends chills down the other two spines. Each step carries weight and the poor man dragged along regrets ever taking the job. 
“No, I don’t think your marriage is a joke… I’m sure she’ll open up to you. Eventually. Just a bit.” Trying to soothe the pissed man proves to be futile.
Ash doesn’t understand why Dion was so smitten with you. You were strangers prior to the engagement - only shared a space in the ballroom without interacting with each other. However, one memory that will never be erased from his mind was when the then nineteen-year-old had pointed at you with his red eyes and declared to the doctor he would marry you during a ball that took place a year ago.
Right after you and the Agriche accidentally locked eyes.
Ash always knew he was mental. Just not to this degree. 
“Listen, I’m sorry; I overstepped. Let’s just get this done - the faster we finish the faster you can return home. Maybe not into her arms, but at least you’ll see and hear her voice. Right?”
At the mention of that, the murderous man calms a little, but the looming threat of being cut down is still in the air. In the moonlight, your husband looks imposing, his red eyes glow as his short black hair moves along with the wind - all he’s missing is the scythe, standing tall and oh so close to putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Ash slowly lowers his hands when Dion sneers at him one last time and turns his back. Tension still in the air and in everyone’s body, they continue the walk. Each step is on the verge of being heavy, but caution prevents them from dragging their feet. The captive was soon thrown over Dion’s shoulder, the sound of dragging getting on his nerves while Ash brought up the amount of noise it made. 
The captive and Ash stare at each other in silence. He almost feels bad for the man, but the doctor quickly reminds himself that he was his employer’s enemy - if he pities him he might cave in and help. But helping would mean that Dion would cut his pay, assuming he doesn’t put him six feet under. 
Or both.
“... we’ve been walking for a bit now. Maybe you should turn around to let the man get a view. We might have taken a wrong turn.” The doctor suggests as Dion hums, considering it. He halts and drops the man who lands face first on the ground. Dirt gets in his eyes, groaning in pain as he rubs it out. 
“If you try to run I’ll cut your legs off.”
“And this is why you don’t have any friends.”
The captive listens in confusion, baffled that there’s someone who can shit talk the infamous Dion Agriche and live. A pause and he stands to his full height, a head shorter than your husband. Dusting himself off, he quivers under Dion’s sharp gaze. His voice cracks as he looks around before giving them directions. 
Or at least, attempts to. 
Swoosh 
Thud!
“Wha!?” Ash backs away as an arrow impales the imposter’s head. He falls to the ground immediately, eyes becoming lifeless. Blood pools underneath his head as some drips down his face. Dion whips his head to the right, where the arrow came from. 
Swoosh
Before it can hit him, Dion catches the arrow with his hand after rushing in to save Ash. He snaps it in two easily. The forest becomes quiet. Both men look to the right, but sense nothing. 
The Agriche feels a hit to his pride once he realizes that he had just lost his prey. His scowl deepens, and Ash squats to investigate the dead body that lays on the cold ground. 
Gently, he lifts the head, getting a good look at the fatal wound. Upon closer inspection, the head of the arrow was dipped in a purple liquid - most likely poison. He glances at the man standing behind him, but quickly returns his attention to the corpse. 
‘Not that it matters if he got hit… he’s immune to most if not all poisons. Oh, but what if he’s not immune to this one?’
The doctor mentally questions as he looks over his shoulder again. Only to be met with the sight of Dion licking the arrow head, tasting the possible poisonous liquid without a second thought. Ash blinks blankly.
‘Are all Agriches like this?’
“It’s poison -” the black haired man starts before he gets interrupted, holding the urge to throttle his employee back. It’s so tempting.
“Obviously -”
“- that’s made from Mellow light*” He finishes while he glowers at Ash. “How unfortunate. Had I known it was drenched in it I would have let it hit you.” A crooked smile plays on his lips as the redhead furrows his brows at the younger man's ‘teasing’. 
“Ha ha. That’s enough from you - what do you want to do with the body?” He looks at the corpse next to him. “Should we burn it? Or bury it?” 
“We’ll bring it with us.” Answer your husband. Without another word, he grabs the corpse by the collar of the shirt and drags it alongside him. “It’d be interesting to see their reactions.” 
Ash stays quiet. 
- - -
“Where’s the doctor and the young master?” 
“I saw them heading that way…”
“Were we abandoned?” 
“Do you honestly think they would do that? Master Lant would have a field day if the young master just up and left. Even if he’s the favorite, he wouldn’t be able to get away with doing such a thing.” 
Chatter fills the air as the soldiers scratch their heads. Stars twinkle in the night sky, and yet despite the pretty sight, only tension is present. Everyone is tense as some look around them to make sure nothing or no-one surrounds them.
“Actually,” one young man starts after he looks around, “where’s Adam? I haven’t seen him since we got back.” 
“Maybe the young master disposed of him.” One says casually.  
“Or he was eaten by a monster and that’s why the other two left - to investigate. It’s normal for them not to say anything sometimes.” Another man offers up, scratching his head despite the implication that their fellow soldier is dead somewhere.
It’s a normal occurrence they’re used to seeing rather than experiencing - it was only a matter of time until someone from their group would die in action or get disposed of by one of the Masters.
Despite their unease, they stay at the camp, weapons ready and alert about their surroundings. The night was still young and the person in charge was missing. 
- - -
They stopped at an abandoned cabin. However, like the fools they are, chatter is loud enough to be heard from outside, and a lantern was lit inside, showing the silhouettes of people through the windows. Two people stood guard outside, Dion and Ash hiding near the trees. 
“Talk about being obvious,” Ash mumbles under his breath, staring at the sight with furrowed brows. Wasn’t this a little too easy? Out in the open, did they think that the night alone would conceal their presence?
Or maybe this was a trap. Making it look too easy so attackers would act cocky or something along those lines. Acting without thinking. Makes it easy to -
“This is dull.” Dion walks out into the open, clearly having no intention of staying hidden. Unlike the swordsman, the doctor says in hiding. He sighs, shaking his head as he quietly prays for the poor souls. Three strikes of his sword and both are on the ground, dead. One with a slash to his neck and the other was pierced with Dion’s sword to his head. Their bodies fall to the ground with a ‘thud’. 
Then, he kicks the door in without warning, caution thrown into the wind, the corrupted noble acting out of character. Slowly, the doctor follows after, watching from the doorway as your husband swings his sword to slash someone’s eyes, making them blind. The Agriche jumps back when one of the men thrusts their sword with all his might towards your husband’s chest.
He deflects it easily. 
From the doorway, Ash witnesses as the younger male swipes his opponent from his feet, his booth making contact with their own, causing the enemy to trip over. Dion wastes no time in bringing his sword down, blood splattering on his boots and floor, the hem of his cloak also now stained as he kills him. There is no remorse in his red eyes. 
The doctor shivers. 
Two capable men remain. They look at the brooding figure like he was a beast - and perhaps he was, the man emotionless when it comes to his victims. Shaking in their boots, their hold on their sword’s hilts loosen. Their eyes are so wide it’s cometical.
“Remember to leave one alive,” Ash shouts from the doorway. Dion doesn’t spare him a glance as he rushes forward, and another man is killed. Blood is shed and none of it is from him. 
The man who was blind by the Agriche writhes on the floor, palms pressed against the wound as he tries to soothe it. He’s also sobbing, and for a moment, the sound reminds your husband of you.
He’s quickly ripped out of his thoughts as his opponent dashes towards him, lifting his sword and is about to bring it down before Dion just… stabs him in the chest. The sword falls to the floor with a clatter as the man cripples over in pain. Slowly, life fades from his eyes, your husband taking it upon himself to end his life faster.
The sight is reflected in scarlet eyes and their owner feels nothing. He’s all but a canvas painted a bright red, no more room for anything else to be added, black fading at the corners.
The wails of the now blind man reach his ears. He turns on his feet, realizing he should have let one of the enemies who could still see live. A blind man can only help so much with directions. 
Dion takes a quick glance around the one room cabinet only to realize one thing - there are no arrows. Whoever the archer was, they were not here. His eye twitches but he calms himself as he looks at the injured man on the floor, blood dripping from his eyes onto the wooden floor.
His steps are heavy, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Ash reaches the new victim before Dion does. He only stares, standing above him as the doctor checks out the gash. 
“F-fuck! You - you -” The nameless man stutters out before he stops to sob, the pain unbearable. Ash doesn’t blame him.
“He’ll kill you if you keep talking without permission.” A half-lie, the doctor giving your husband a look. “Just keep your mouth shut until spoken to.” Reaching into his coat's inner pocket, he brings out a small bottle full of some type of medicine. 
Dion scoffs as the doctor rinses out the wound, dusting himself off as the wails get stronger. Louder. What was the point of performing first aid? It’s not like he’ll live for long.
Without heistance, Dion kicks the man in the stomach once Ash is done ‘treating’ him. He’s getting impatient - their idiotic and poor attempt to kill him, to trick him was only making the length of his mission longer. He could be with you right now. Watching as your chest slowly rises up and down as you sleep, as his insomnia prevents him from joining you.
He could be in your shared bed by now, the only time you don’t squirm under his gaze. When he can trace the contours of your face with his eyes, wishing that he could do it with his fingers instead. 
He directs his attention back to the matter at hand. Thinking about you only distracts him.
“Talk. The longer you lie or stay quiet, the longer I’ll beat you.” Not a complete lie. He swears he’s trying to be a bit less brutal. For you.
But it’s hard when it was hardwired into his very being at a young age.
“I-I don’t -”
THWACK
Another kick to the stomach that has the man wheezing. Drool flies from his mouth as he doubles over in pain. His entire body feels wrecked, his eyes fucked for the rest of his life, no matter how short. Breathing hurts but his lungs won’t stop seeking for oxygen. The burning sensation almost makes him wish he was dead. 
“Ugh… I-I was ju-just ordered to be stationed here…” He braces himself for another kick that never comes. However, he doesn’t delude himself into thinking that the threat before him has decided to let him rest. He knows that Dion is planning something else. 
And he’s scared to find out what.
“So you’re mercenaries. Who hired you?” The interrogation continues. 
“I-I didn’t see his fa-face… he wore a ma-mask. Dark blue. A-a bit shorter th-than you." The mercenary gives details as he prays that his death will be a swift one. He knows he’s not leaving alive. 
- - -
The matter was out of their hands now. He has to report everything to Lant, and wait for further instructions. It’s a routine he hates.
He’s treated no better than a show dog.
“At least you’re almost done with the original task.” The doctor tries to be positive.
Dion doesn’t answer as he brings the blind mercenary with him. Unlike with the first one, he carries this one over his shoulder the entire trip back to camp. It’s quicker and easier, while dragging him would slow him down a bit. 
It doesn’t make him dislike it any less. 
“Surprised you kept him alive.” The doctor stares at the unconscious man as he walks behind Dion. “What about the rest of the bodies?”
“We leave them as a message,” is all your husband says. What a crude thing to do, Ash thinks. But he doesn’t comment on it further. 
By the time they reach camp, the soldiers look on in shock as their leader returns covered in splatters of blood with a man on death’s door slung over his shoulder. 
- - -
  “...you want me to do what?”
“Take the money and buy the necklace I told you about earlier. I’ll either be kicked out or they’ll run away immediately as soon as they see me.” He gestures to his messy appearance.
“Just take off your cloak! Wash your face! Besides, what will your wife think if she ever finds out I was the one who got it!? She’ll think that you’re lazy and it’ll only make her view of you worse!” 
The hunting party is on the outskirts of a town they passed by on their way to the hunting grounds. Dion stares at Ash with money in his hand, silently ordering him to take it and buy a necklace that matches your pretty and lovely eyes. 
Dion had passed through the town himself a few weeks ago while out on a different mission. Curious, he decided to check out the local jewelry store. He was only supposed to take a peek, not leave with plans to buy a certain piece. The only reason he didn’t get it right then and there was because he forgot his wallet. 
He still holds that against himself to this day. While it’s true he could have used his status as being part of the Black Clan, it didn’t sit right with him. How soft has he become?
It’s all your fault. And yet, he doesn’t hold it against you. It’s impossible to do so.
“... I suppose you’re right.” 
“Then go get it yourself!” 
The blind and unconscious mercenary is forgotten on the carriage that also holds some monster parts.  
The soldiers in the background try their best to ignore their conversation. But it’s hard when the doctor’s frustration is bursting through the streams, clearly done with their leader. While it was common knowledge among this group of how the two butt heads, it’s a secret outside of it.
For a mere common doctor to go against a child of Agriche, it would be a death sentence. Especially with his occasional condescending remark or tone that would bring punishment or even death for anyone else. However, for whatever reason, Ash Katopodis was the only one who ever lived without injury after shit talking Dion Agriche. The first time it happened, they waited with baited breath for the doctor to fall to the ground, dead. 
The second time it happened they thought it was fluke. 
Everything after that showed that he had a privilege that no-one else ever will have. It’s curious how he’s the only one. 
One time, a soldier, a stupid one, who overheard Dion’s men talk about it did try to snitch on them to Lant, hoping to bring down Dion’s reputation. Safe to say his death wasn’t quick and painless. After that, they all realized that the only reason Dion kept them around was because they knew when and how to keep their mouths shut.
Still, it was entertaining for a man below Dion in status to lose his temper with the crimson eyed noble. 
Even if they can’t hear every word. 
“Take off the cloak - oh. Right. The Agriche crest.” The sudden memory of what’s engraved into that uniform hits Ash hard. How stupid of him to barely remember.
“You there! Come over for a second.” Not waiting for Dion’s response, Ash calls over one of the soldiers. He walks over in confusion, slightly irked that a doctor dared to order him around. But due to his leader being there, he keeps his mouth shut.
“Y-yes?” The man looks at both of them with uncertainty in his eyes. Worried, he keeps himself from turning around to avoid your husband’s eyes. 
“Can you lend him your cloak? Just for a bit.” 
Dion glares daggers at Ash.
- - -
“We-welcome! How may I help you to-today?” Open twenty-four-seven, Ash watches as Dion had knocked on the door of the store, deciding to stay in his stained clothes and dirty boots while staying outside, not staining the store’s floor. How benevolent of him.
The owner, who was originally confused and slightly annoyed, quickly changed tune once he saw the two men. Since he had met Dion before, he knew who he was. Which meant his automatic fear and willingness to work with him and not send him off only made sense.
“The necklace,” Dion starts while recalling how it looks, “the simple gold one with a small (e/c) jewel in the middle - how much?” He knows it’s genuine after the first time he examined it. What he forgot was the price.
This isn’t like him. None of this is. But the second you entered his life, he’s been… different. 
The owner blinks before answering. “Oh, that one? It’s 1240 - but for you, I’ll only charge half.” Business is still business to this man, clearly. Still, seeing how it’s an Agriche who’s his customer, he doesn’t want to test his luck too much.
It’s also amazing how he memorized the price of each and every one of his goods. 
“Alright.” Dion doesn’t try to negotiate to lower the price further. Ash watches in amazement as the exchange comes to an end as the gift is placed in a small elegant blue box that’s carefully placed into his pants pocket. 
- - -
Ash left the party before reaching the Agriche estate.
Everyone else goes their own ways once everything is reported to Lant, the head of the family scowling at the news. Perhaps too tired to care much, considering the time, he dismisses everyone without incident. Everyone but Dion, that is.
“The girl didn’t leave your room today. Were you too rough before departing?” His father takes a puff from his cigar as he questions his son on a matter that frankly, doesn’t concern him. His ugly smirk only makes the context worse.
“... she’s still getting used to ‘it’.” A simple lie that has his father chuckling. It’s nails on a chalkboard, making his ears bleed. 
“Interesting. I never thought you would be that type.” One more puff after a suggestive line. “Well, it’s late - you should get some rest. Or don’t, depending on your mood. It’s not like she can deny you.” 
His hands form fists before they relax. Getting mad here wouldn’t help. Even though every fiber of his being is enraged that Lant is treating you like a sex toy - then again, in his eyes, you probably are. A nice little breeding tool given to him, his son.
He ignores the urge to give in and punch him. 
He wonders how long he’s had these violent feelings towards him.
“Yes, father.” And with that, he leaves. 
The walk to your bedroom feels longer than what it is. Too long. Even so, he doesn’t rush, knowing that you prefer it when he’s gone. A part of him does feel guilty about it, really. At times, he does consider separating himself from you physically - as long as you’re married, as long as you don’t look at anyone else, as long as you belong to him, it should have been fine.
And, truthfully, it was, at first. He was content with the knowledge that you were his wife and he was your husband. Looking from afar would sate his needs, small dinners here and there would have been better than fine. Just hearing your voice would improve his mood, and sharing a bed with you was nicer than nice. 
That day when you were sitting on the floor and fell backwards, head resting on his legs, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. 
Although, looking back on it now, you probably took it differently.
The night where you allowed him to touch you, his fingers on the bare skin of your back, how loose you were with him, his resolve started to crumble. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have acted in a suggestive way, either the position sending his mind places that you clearly didn’t appreciate nor agreed with. He should have gotten up the moment he was done with untying the strings and not imply he wanted to make you cum with both his words and actions.
His behavior that night only served to drive you away further. 
You both had your first time together, which was amazing - but he does regret how it went. He should have been softer, kissed you, whispered praises in your ear as he slowly, inch by inch, entered you, said you were beautiful because you were, because you are. 
But, shamefully, he was caught up in his head. Too eager to take you, to become one, his actions only worsen your impression of him. He should have been better. Instead of trying to hold himself back which only made him look disinterested, made him look selfish with sexual pleasure, he should have given in a little bit, at least with making you cum and sweet words he should have said instead of calling you cute only when you started to cry.
Maybe then, you would be more welcoming to fleeting touches and even accept a kiss to the forehead or at the very least, hold his hand. But now you only see him as a perverted creep, and no matter how hard he tries, everything only backfires on him.
He has no-one to blame but himself. 
He pauses once he reaches the bedroom doors. It’s only now does he realize he didn’t wash up - still dirty and covered in specks of blood. Dirt in his hair, he wonders if he stinks or just smells like the outside. Or maybe that would smell bad to you too.
His eyes glaze overs at the thought of you shooing him away - can’t he just spend a few minutes with you? Maybe he should just… lock you up. That way, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. You wouldn’t be able to give your attention to anyone else, if he just hid and locked you away all for himself.
A pause before he sighs through his nose. Not a good idea despite how tempting it is.
He’ll just take a peek. To see if you’re asleep or not. He’ll leave to wash up as soon as he sees you before going in.
His thoughts are interrupted when his hand starts to turn the door knob without his knowing. He caves.
Only he caves in once he sees you on the terrace, in nothing but your sleep attire. A frown pulls at his lips - it’s slightly windy - he knows this is only an excuse to get closer to you, but an obsessed man can only hold back for so long. In the beginning, he was satisfied with just being married to you. But your personality, your real one that shined through in the past, was addicting. Your skin was so warm and hair soft, and the way you  had clung to him during your first night would have eventually caught up with him, wanting to hold you in his arms again.
It didn’t have to be in a sexual manner. Your genuine sweetness was never meant for him and he knows this. But, at times, it does hurt a bit that you just don’t remember past events, no matter how small.
Quietly, by reflex, he enters the room and opens the closet to pull out a coat. The first one he sees is a gift from his mother.
Despite his distaste of it, he pulls it out regardless and walks to you. You smell nice, he thinks as he gets close enough to place the coat over your shoulders. He sees the way you tense but he still can’t stop himself from saying -
“You’re still awake.”
= = =
EDIT: *- it's a plant I made up. That's all.
tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403
@manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @rentaldarling @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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sansaorgana · 11 months ago
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I’m not quite sure if your requests are open or not so if they aren’t just ignore this!♥️ but if they are, hi!!! I was wondering if you could do an Austin Butler/Buck Cleven x Reader who plays hard to get with him. She is like head nurse or something, a badass who was trained by her daddy in the arts of war, like I’m talking knowing how to throw hand grenades, shooting rifles or knowing how to work a plane despite her role in modern day 1940s society. I don’t like reading abt Y/N being naive yk?
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hello! 💕 this story takes place when the boys are still in the USA and training. I believe I've read somewhere they actually spent two years in Texas so... the Reader is a girl from Texas and a daughter of one of the badass Colonels at the base who is training Buck and others. she is also a head nurse at that base (I assume they also had sickbays even though those were training bases...? I literally know nothing about the military lmao). I hope she will be strong enough for you 😌 I personally don't find every sweet and more period-accurate female character to be weak or naive but it was still nice to write a different type of character for once 😅
I might post less frequently in the upcoming days because I am catching up with my uni work finally after a few weeks of abandoning it to write fics lol
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
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Bucky laughed at the sight of his friend going inside the sickbay after a training flight. He was going there for the fifth time this week and it was all because his friend had a crush on the head nurse, young (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
Miss (Y/L/N) was a daughter of Colonel (Y/L/N) – the Colonel (Y/L/N) – the scariest and the roughest man around. He had a scar right across his face and he was known for being so strong he could rip the tree out of the ground with his bare hands… or so the legend said.
His daughter was just like her father. She was feminine of course in her nurse’s apron and her hair done up neatly so it wouldn’t interrupt her work. Her hands were soft and her lips covered with red lipstick. But she was a tough girl who didn’t mind swearing a little and scolding all the boys at the base for their irresponsible behaviour. She probably didn’t know that they all acted this way just so they could get to the sickbay and be treated by her.
At least that was the case for Buck.
She sighed at the sight of him and rolled her eyes as she approached him when he entered the room.
“Major Cleven… Again?” She raised her eyebrows at him and he blushed. “What is it this time?”
“I am… I am dizzy,” he made up a pathetic lie and she huffed at that as she pointed at the chair for him to sit down on.
“I will give you something for that but if you keep having troubles of this sort, I’m gonna tell my daddy to not send you to Europe, you know?” She teased and he swallowed thickly at that comment.
“Please, don’t, Miss (Y/L/N),” he pleaded, his eyes carefully following her every movement as she looked at him with a smirk.
“Well, we don’t want weak pilots like you to defend our country, do we?” She teased.
“It’s not because of flying… It’s… I don’t know, it’s something else,” Buck hated himself for the way he acted around her. She was so intimidating but so tempting at the same time. The fragile part of his masculinity was simply scared of her but his other, brave side wanted to be around her all the time. And he was very well aware how many other men wanted her, too. But his feelings were real. It had very little to do with desire. He was serious about her.
She approached him and handed him a pill and a glass of water. He swallowed it and she squinted her eyes at him.
“I swear to God, you boys are the worst bunch I’ve ever dealt with,” she shook her head. “I hope in Europe I will handle real men,�� she rolled her eyes.
“You’re going to Europe, too?” Buck asked as he widened his eyes.
“Of course, Major. It brings me no pleasure to be here and help buffoons like you,” she chuckled. “I signed up already and my daddy wants me to be assigned to the 100th.”
“That’s where I will go, too,” Buck’s eyes sparkled as he realised that she wouldn’t get rid of him so easily.
“Oh God…” (Y/N) sighed. “I hope you’ll be long gone by the time I get there.”
“I hope not,” he blurted out and she froze for a second before laughing.
“Oh, you’re cute, Major,” she admitted before walking away to deal with the next man entering the sickbay, coming up with some fake injury just to feel her hands examining him and hear her mocking tone scolding him for his irresponsibility.
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You liked Bucky Egan because he was funny and he didn’t care about you. He could have any woman he wanted so he wasn’t showing off when you were around – or playing a victim like so many “injured” Majors, Captains and Lieutenants. You were growing sick of all of them, coming to you with every single papercut and making puppy eyes at you.
You were having a beer with Bucky behind one of the buildings in the evening. Consuming alcohol was forbidden but who would fire you? You were a daughter of the roughest Colonel in that base. And Bucky was under your protection – and one of the best pilots around.
“Alright, but if you had to go out with any of them, who would that be?” Bucky asked, teasingly.
“For fuck’s sake, John,” you rolled your eyes and leaned your head back to rest it on the wall. “It would be you.”
“But I don’t want you,” he laughed.
“You…,” you hissed at him and you both giggled. “That’s why I would go out with you.”
“Oh, you like the ones who don’t want you?”
“No, I like real men,” you told him. “Like my daddy is.”
“You know that my best friend is madly in love with you, right?” Bucky pushed your arm playfully.
“Curt Biddick?” You asked. God, that one was insufferable.
“Yeah, him too. But I mean the other one.”
“Buck Cleven?” You asked as you felt your cheeks heating up for some mysterious reason.
“Yeah, that one,” Bucky nodded. “He’s a good guy and a hell of a pilot. He’s tough, too, just in a different way.”
“Yeah, he’s cute, bless his heart,” you admitted.
“So, you’d go out with him?” Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.
“Stop playing matchmaker, it’s not gonna happen. I ain’t dating any man from this base,” you took a sip of your beer as you shook your head.
“Why not, though? You don’t want to marry a man like your daddy? I thought you wanted to,” Bucky asked.
“Y’all would be scared of a gal like me, let me tell you,” you giggled. “I can shoot a rifle and throw a grenade. My daddy wanted a son, you see. But my momma gave him only girls so he raised us like boys,” you told him. “All that discipline, I ain’t joking, Bucky,” you pushed him because he was laughing. “We had to get up at 5am, make our bed, do morning gymnastics,” you teased.
“Really?” His face became more serious.
“Nah,” you shook your head. “Only sometimes. But he took the whole business of teaching us self-defence very seriously. I remember asking him, where the hell would I even get a grenade from in case some boy was following me home, daddy? And he said: easy, sugar, they’re in my drawer next to the gun,” you laughed and so did Bucky.
“You know what I think?” Bucky put his bottle of beer down and shot you an odd glance you did not like at all.
“What, Egan?”
“You’re gonna get angry when I tell you.”
“Just tell me,” you rolled your eyes.
“I think you need a man who’s gonna see a woman in you. Like yeah, we all know you’re tough and shit. And all these boys want to be around you because you’re like a mother that they have left back home in the way you scold them and take care of them. But I think you just need someone to see a woman in you. Has anyone ever…?”
“You asshole,” you indeed got angry. You didn’t want him to be right and react in such a predictable way but you did.
You stood up and went back to the building to go to sleep, leaving Bucky Egan without a word.
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You didn’t know what Bucky had said to Buck but Major Cleven hadn’t visited the sickbay in a week now and you hated to admit but you missed it. In fact, you were the most excited when it was him coming inside with some adorable injury or illness. There was something about him that was making you swoon even though you would never ever admit that. 
On that weekend most boys had a night out and you stayed inside the sickbay to deal with the paperwork. One of the head nurse’s duties sadly required filling some papers, too.
After a while, you heard a light knocking upon the front door and you sighed before standing up and opening them, shocked to see Major Cleven.
“Major?” You asked. “What is it again? The mysterious dizziness has had its comeback?”
“N-no,” he shook his head.
“Why aren’t you out with all the boys?”
“I didn’t want to go,” he admitted and you squinted your eyes at him.
“So you decided to catch me in an empty room instead? I have a gun here and I know how to use it,” you threatened although it was hard to believe that a man like Major Cleven would ever hurt any woman.
“I wanted to ask you if you’d go out on a walk with me, Miss (Y/L/N),” he widened his eyes at your threats. “It’s a warm and nice night.”
“Ugh, fine,” you shrugged your arms and grabbed a cardigan to put over your nurse’s outfit. He waited for you outside nervously with his hands in his pockets.
“I don’t want to be a bother, we don’t have to…” Buck told you as you were locking the door behind you.
“You’re lucky, Major, I needed a distraction from the papers,” you told him and joined him.
“Yeah, the paperwork. I don’t like it either,” he looked down and you two began to walk slowly towards the gates leading out of the base.
“And who does?” You chuckled and looked at him as you bit on your lip. He was adorable; something about him was making you feel protective. But on the other hand you knew from your father he was one of the best pilots and he was a man of honour. Your father was usually rolling his eyes at the mention of most men at the base. But never about Major Cleven. Your father rarely respected the young and new ones but something about that Major was making your daddy go easy on him.
“I wanted to apologise, actually,” Buck told you when you two finally left the base and began to walk alongside its fence.
“Hm? About what?” You asked.
“Bothering you five times a week with made up dizziness or papercuts,” he laughed nervously.
“And what made you apologise? You’re not the only one who’s been doing that, Major, but you’re surely the first actually saying he’s sorry,” you raised an eyebrow.
“Bucky told me it’s annoying you and that it’s not really a way to get to you,” he admitted as he looked up at your face.
“Why the hell would you want to get to me? You’re a sweet man,” you snorted at him. In the dim light of the moon and the base’s lights from afar you could see him blushing.
“What does it have to do with it, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Buck asked.
“I’m not sweet, Major Cleven. A guy like you… You should be out there in town with them boys and look for a sweet little naive doll for yourself,” you teased him. But deep down it hurt you that it was true – you were raised for a tough girl but sometimes… Sometimes you wished you were softer.
“You think so low of me, Miss?” He only shook his head with a nervous chuckle. “That type of woman you’ve mentioned… They’re nice and kind, I don’t mind them, they’re sweet, yeah. And they make good wives to lots of men but you… You’re the first one who actually impressed me,” he confessed.
You went silent for a moment. You liked that he wasn’t complimenting you while saying mean things about others.
“You’re a real gentleman, Cleven,” you pointed out. “And so smooth. You’d be a sensation if you stayed here in Texas.”
“Would I?” He stopped his walk and so did you as he turned around to face you better.
“Yeah. But if you stayed here, you’d soon realise there are more gals like me ‘round here. And I’d lose all the charm,” you teased.
“Then maybe I’d finally leave you alone, which I assume is your wish.”
“Oh, far from that,” you risked as you raised your eyebrows, waiting for his next move.
He hesitated for a while and then he smiled smugly and joined his lips with yours in a sweet but passionate kiss that took your breath away.
Bucky had been right – it was nice to be treated like a woman.
“Will your daddy shoot me for that?” Major Cleven asked with a chuckle after finally breaking the kiss.
“It’s not him you should be worried about. I can shoot, too, Major, and my daddy wouldn’t get rid of the best pilot,” you teased.
“But you would?” He grabbed your chin gently.
“The best pilot? Surely. But would I get rid of Major Cleven? Never,” you chuckled. “God, I’ve missed your made up migraines,” you confessed.
“I can fake more of them,” he smirked.
“Yes, please,” you chuckled and leaned in to kiss him again. “But let’s keep it a secret for now.”
“Why?”
“Because if my daddy finds out about us, he’ll make sure we won’t be sent to the same base in Europe and we don’t want that, do we…?” You looked up at him, your heart pounding so fast in your chest as it had never done before for any man.
“Oh, no, no, we don’t want that at all,” Major Cleven bopped you on the nose. “Who will deal with my headaches there otherwise?”
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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sorchathered · 1 year ago
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Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)
This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?
Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader
Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+
Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)
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You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned. Everything crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.
Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before. You trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.
“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.
“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.
There’s just something about him that calms you down. Everyone gets the big bad “Hangman” persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.
“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”
He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.
“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”
Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.
“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.
He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.
“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”
Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he had to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls. When a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him. Everything felt like it fit in that moment.
A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.
He let his hubris get the best of him. He was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission. Someone unfortunately had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.
You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, leaving a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, he tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car; he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.
Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. He’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.
Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed at the familiarity of it all; some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, your hair and makeup set to perfection as Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. You just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”
You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.
“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”
The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.
“He-“
“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”
He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.
Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold as they enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.
“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.
“It feels good to be home ‘Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.
She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”
Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.
“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”
He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.
After grabbing a beer and getting two pitifully sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing. It feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. You feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him from the corner of your eye; your arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.
“Rooster”
“Hangman”
“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable Bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. She’s a a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”
“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”
“Understood.”
Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.
You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.
“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.
“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”
“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”
He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.
“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”
You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.
“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”
You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pressing his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.
You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.
“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”
You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.
Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.
“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.
The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.
He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.
You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.
“Jakey”
“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Stormy, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”
You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.
“No.”
“No?”
“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother, I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but I’m a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“
“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “You’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.
“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.
“He cheated on you. A month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”
It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.
You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.
“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”
Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.
You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.
“Stormy-l-“
“Jake…Do you love me?”
He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.
“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”
He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.
“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.
You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.
“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”
He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.
“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“
“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”
He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him
“Jake I think I love you too.”
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Jake Seresin Masterlist
Tagging- @attapullman
@bobgasm
@mamachasesmayhem
@roosterforme
@pinkdaisies1106
@angelbabyyy99
@nouis-bum
@djs8891
@purelyfiction
@86laura11
@shanimallina87
@floydsglasses
@floydsmuse
@nervousnerdwitch
@mygyn
@jessicab1991
@its-the-pilot
@dempy
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ohimsummer · 1 year ago
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omg so. idk if you keep getting these ads all over snapchat and stuff like i have, but i keep seeing those ads for these lil thongs that have ur man’s name along the back. and every time i see them, my FIRST thought is imagine wearing those for satoru or suguru lmao
— minors dni, geto x afab! reader, pet names (sugar, darling), light degradation, suguru possession kink going brrrr, mentions of biting/marking/creampie, established relationship :3
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i went w/ suguru bc i like writing about speedrunning through breaking that man’s composure 🤭 and also satoru’s was sounding repetitive but I think HE’D buy them for you to begin with😭
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“darling, have you seen my–“
the question is a dying ember in suguru’s throat, and his silence prompts your curious gaze at him through the reflection. you’re tilted over his bathroom sink to get a closer look at yourself in the mirror, finishing up your nightly routine.
“seen your what, sugar?”
your boyfriend doesn’t answer the question. instead he eyes the bottom of your ass that peeks out from beneath your (his) shirt. surely you haven’t been prancing your pretty self around his apartment in just a shirt?
his hand approaches the hem of the top. “uhm, what are you–“ and you squeak out an ‘oop!’ as geto lifts the fabric to expose your behind. a huff seeps from your lips, faux annoyance as you massage face wash into your cheeks. “jeez, babe, at least take me to dinner, first.”
after getting no response, you prod at him further. “okay, suguru, i know the view back there is amazing but for real, what did you come in here for again?” still no answer. you pout at him through the mirror, though geto never sees your expression as his eyes are tangled in the words branded on your underwear.
‘why are you wearing these?’
‘where did you get them?’
‘you’re teasing me with this, aren’t you?’
all questions that die on his tongue, because how could he possibly get his thoughts together with all this blood rushing to the wrong head?
“oh, do you like my new thong? ordered it online, just for you.”
and god, you and that playful taunt, wiggling your ass as you giggle so nonchalantly. like this sexy little thong with suguru’s name on the band isn’t sending all his composure straight out the window. fist balled up in the t-shirt, it’s taking everything in him not to rip these damned panties off you. no, no, he needed them perfect and intact for the pictures he wanted to take later, after he’s done stuffing your slutty ass with cock and cum and painting your pussy white.
“you do these things just to get a rise out of me, don’t you?” geto finally sighs, pulling at the thin excuse for underwear right where his title resides; he tugs it back, gets a good eyeful of his name and it almost makes his brain go haywire. it elicits the same feeling as when he sees day-old hickeys on your neck—a ‘she’s mine’ so everyone knows the most gorgeous girl in the world is already spoken for. geto loves showing off that you’re his in all kinds of ways: you in his clothes, with his teeth indentations on your body, or bruises from his lips, hands clutching at your hips or an arm around your waist.
“suguru,” you set down your towel, face fully dry and you back up to press yourself against his front. “i’ve no idea what you’re on about.” your giggles and the knowing grin on your face say otherwise. “but i’m assuming you do like them, yeah? it’s like our own little secret.” and you grind your ass against the growing bulge in his pants, just a little something to send his heart racing even faster.
and, oh, he likes them alright. anything that says you’re his and suguru’s down for it. and if that includes having his cum drooling from every hole in your body, so be it.
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tagz: @anthoosies
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slytherinshua · 7 months ago
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PRODUCTIVITY AT ITS FINEST
genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. physics (ew) except i've never been in a proper physics class before so i hope that formula is right otherwise rip. not proofread. pairing. ryo x fem!reader. wc. 905. request. requested by 🪐 anon. a/n. i swear ryo keeps surprising me because once i knew he was a troublemaker i was like oh well he must've been a bad student too BUT NO HE WAS TOP OF HIS CLASS??? EXCUSE ME??? anyway ryo slays so hard and keeps surprising me every single day lmao.
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“Ugh, this essay is stupid. I can’t believe we didn’t even get to pick the topic from a list! How are they expecting us to write a good essay when the topic is already picked for us? I didn’t even read the chapters of the book I’m supposed to write about…” You glared at the screen of your computer, a completely empty document open with merely the date and your name on the page. How were you going to get a one thousand word essay to appear on the page? You had no idea. 
“Did you read the chapters, by any chance?” You asked as a final resort, turning to your boyfriend who was pretending to be asleep on the table.
He opened one eye, “Not a chance. I used sparknotes.” 
“Of course you did.” You groaned, glancing at the essay prompt and back to your empty page. “But you finished the essay last week…” Dating the top student in your class should’ve meant you also had an easier time. At least, that’s what you had originally thought. You hadn’t heeded Sakuya’s warnings when he told you that Ryo was just smart, lazy, and lucky. He didn’t even have to study.
“Study dates are overrated. Like, we’re not even being productive.” Ryo pointed out, clicking his mechanical pencil repeatedly, not a single mark having been made on his physics worksheet. 
“Who said this was a date?” You questioned, slouching back against the couch.
“Wasn’t it a date? Is it not?” Ryo sat up, giving a disappointed look at you.
“I mean… I guess it could be? We’re not doing anything very… date-like.”
“True…” Ryo crossed his arms, thinking about something. “What if we just… traded?” 
You raised an eyebrow, “Should I really trust you to write my essay?” 
He shrugged, “Like you said, I already finished mine. Better that I write it than for you to just sit there not writing it, right?” He pointed out. He was right, you had to give him that. Minutes later you were staring down at his physics homework, getting to work on the first problem. You had finished about half of the worksheet when you heard Ryo shut the laptop.
“You can’t have finished already—” 
Ryo pouted, “This date sucks.” 
You ignored his complaint and went back to the worksheet, knowing he would probably get over it and open the computer again in a few minutes. Probably.
Instead, he crept closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek. But, you still tried to focus on the work. There was a chance that he was just feeling a bit clingy and after a few minutes he’d go back to work. Right?
Wrong.
“You’re doing it wrong.” He said quietly, “The formula for wavelength is speed divided by frequency. There’s no multiplication in this question.” 
“You were the one who wanted me to do this for you, dumbass!” You defended, dropping the pencil in defeat, “Physics goes way over my head every time. You’ve seen my test scores.” 
Ryo lifted his head off your shoulder, crossing his arms, “Well, I didn’t know you’d be this dumb. They give you the formula right there!” He pointed to the top of the paper where the formulas were indeed listed. Okay… maybe you were dumber than you thought.
You bit your lip, trying to calm the steaming anger that was brewing in your head over your stupidly smart attractively so boyfriend, “What about my essay? Did you even write anything?”
“Well, no. But if I did, I would’ve done better than you on the physics.” 
You sighed, “This is a waste of our time…” 
“Agreed.” 
“There’s probably something more productive we cou—” In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend had shoved you down onto the floor (gently), pinning your hands over your head and hovering over you with a mischievous grin that you were a bit wary of.
“What are you doing?” You whispered, your voice barely coming out louder than a whisper from your shocked (and quite flustered) state.
“Something more productive.” He said simply, before capturing your lips with his before another second passed. You couldn’t argue that his idea of productivity was much more in line with yours. You would take the taste of his lips over confusing physics problems any day. 
After dating Ryo for over a year, kissing him was like second nature. Your hands found their place in his hair, threading through the soft locks, using it to pull his face closer to yours. Maybe it was just that the kiss felt that good, or maybe it was wanting to avoid the homework for as long as possible, but neither you nor Ryo wanted it to end. 
By the time you both sat up again, your heads clearing from the dizzying kiss and the aftertaste of your cherry lip balm lingering on both of your lips, Ryo’s hair was a complete mess. You giggled and started to fix it for him, combing your fingers through the small tangles that had developed. His face was cutely flushed, a stark contrast to his previous confidence.
“So,” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Maybe we should get back to work?”
“Yeah… sounds like a good plan.” You said, not an ounce of your focus on the physics or essay, but entirely on Ryo’s red lips, slightly swollen from your lips.
↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,
@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys
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fishklok · 18 days ago
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I know I'm doing a lot of oc rambling, but I need to put my plot for Mystery Potato Johnson somewhere bc I finally got a solid grasp of it
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Mystery operates a magic shop where she does tarot readings. Melmord (her casual friend and situationship) stops by for a reading before the events of Dethsources because he just got an offer to co-manage Dethklok (she pulls the Tower card and has to go "no that doesn't literally mean you'll fall from a tower lol")
Melmord literally falls from a tower and gets run over by a train. Since he died on the train, his death summons the Blues Devil, who brings him back to life in exchange for his soul. One of Melmord's first orders is to track down the evasive descendant of some blues musician who sold his soul to him a long time ago.
Oops, that's Mystery, and now she's been taken by the devil.
Melmord tracks down Mashed Potato Johnson and tells him his granddaughter's soul belongs to the devil. They summon the Blues Devil, Mystery is there too (decked out in red and black hell yeah).
Using his business skills, Melmord manages to break Mashed Potato Johnson (and by extension, Mystery) out of their contract. Because Melmord is now his manager, and his music is now getting a resurgence in the public.
Also he points out that Mashed Potato Johnson officially recorded his tracks after the Copyright Act of 1976 had been enacted so his music still belongs to him (I'm not touching the 1909 Act because it complicates things and I just wrote a big dumb paper about the act and blues music and I am done thinking about it lmao)
Mashed Potato Johnson and all of his descendants are free from the contract. Mashed Potato is able to finally die of old age (granting him at least 200 additional years of federal copyright protection due to his prolonged life). Mystery can also finally listen to music (she spent most of her life avoiding it so the devil couldn't find her). The first thing she does is listen to her grandfather's music, and the blues can live on through her.
The Blues Devil decides Melmord's more trouble than he's worth and releases his soul. Melmord instantly dies again rip.
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burning-academia-if · 28 days ago
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Hello and welcome to me yapping about BA. I know this is late, but better late than never! (I have been sick since the end of November, so I also didn't get anything done during December fasdfja). This is pretty long, and I mostly wrote it for myself, since I like giving myself something to look back on in the future + reflect on my work. Feel free to skip this, especially because it is over 2k words LMAO
Brief content warning, there will be a very brief mentioning of health at the end. It won't go in to any detail since it is personal, but it is present! There will be a warning right before I talk about it, but I just wanted to give a head's up! Now onwards, to my 2024 look back: Burning Academia edition.
But first 14 years ago
It's the summer of 2011 (or 2010), and you've just discovered the Persona series for the first time. One day, at the mall, you see a copy of Persona 3 Portable on the shelf in the store, and you beg your very Christian mother to buy it for you, watching as she gives a very hard stare at the blatant "M" rating on the case. By some miracle, you manage to convince her to buy it for you, and then proceed to binge and finish the game in 5 days. Your mom promptly takes away your PSP, which is fair enough in hindsight. You'd played at least ten hours of it each day.
It's the summer of 2011 (or 2010, my memory is Bad), and you also discovered flash dating sims on DeviantArt, which also led to your discovery of otome games in general. Both this and P3P merge together into a story idea. One that you note down in a document full of other story ideas. The notes look like this:
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Back then, thirteen year old me imagined an otome game mixed with the classic turn based RPG combat system, but made at a much smaller scale. There were 7 boys, and whoever you romanced changed what the final boss looked like.
It was also centered in a high school, and MC was a lot more of a blank slate sort of character, with no real background. They just happened to find a Weird Book at their private high school and got dragged into nonsense. There were still Wraiths (originally called Night Specters) who you fought during the three month span of the game. Said Night Specters were also controlled by the Resident Voice, who was not a love interest in the original.
Baby Em daydreamed about this idea a lot, for most of summer and throughout eight grade honestly. But it fell to the wayside for things I could actually do (basically, just my writing) and that was pretty much the end of that.
Until it wasn't
Flash forward to 2023, where I was having a rough time and unemployed and to give myself joy I went back through a lot of old files on my Google Drive. I'm not really someone that's ever been ashamed of my creative work, and questionable stories and art I drew are things I'm more fond of than anything. When I stumbled upon this, my brain latched on to it, so I took it, and ripped out it's guts to create the current version of Burning Academia.
Rook and Beck are the only "original" ROs from all that time ago. But even then, they've been changed A Lot, to the point where the two of them are completely different from what they used to be. Rhea was always a character (originally named Wish), who acted as the Best Friend/Guide for MC. She also completely changed to the point of being unrecognizable to the original. And Zoe was a random NPC who worked at the library. I took them, reworked them, and decided on these four as the love interests. Four was a perfectly manageable number, and BA had also changed a lot storywise that romance wasn't even the point anymore.
Of course, there clearly isn't four ROs LMAO
So, the Voice. They were also in the OG as the Villain controlling the Specters and manipulating your heart as a means to get whatever they were after. I'll be honest, I don't remember what they were originally after. But I've always liked villains whose connection to the hero is one where they dig their claws deep into them. It's how I got the idea of making them essentially 'haunt' MC. Then, the more I developed that, the more it just made sense for them to be an LI to me. The reason they're the only gender selectable one is because they're the one most reflective of MC (and the one who would change the least regardless of gender). And then that was it! We had five, I was done.
Which leads to Lars, I guess.
He ended up becoming a RO at the last minute, as in, a week before the launch of the blog last minute. He was kind of just this antagonist asshole whose primary job was to make sure you didn't do anything too stupid and who hated your guts. I'm going to be honest, I'm not that big of a fan of the asshole archetype, especially as a romance option. But then I got to chapter 5 in the outline of the story and it objectively just made sense. I can't say why because of spoilers, but I think I've mentioned all the ROs and MC are interconnected with each other and are meant to reflect certain aspects of each other in some way. With Lars, it would have felt off to me not to add him in, considering the type of character he'd grown into. So, with a sense of reluctance, I threw him in.
I think Lars is the funniest RO to me, because there was a point in time where he was the most popular on the blog, and I was like 'woah, him.' asldfakjldfjka. Over the past year, he's definitely grown on me in ways I haven't expected, and I think I almost find his awfulness endearing somehow. (To be honest, I think writing the scene of punching him in the face did wonders for my own perception of him).
As for the story changes, this clearly isn't set in a private boarding school ft teens. The original idea was just Persona 3 Portable all over again, because 13 year old me had a problem (I would proceed to replay the game over a dozen times over the years, so I still have a problem). And while I love the themes in P3P, I also feel like some of the things I wanted to write about just made a lot more sense with people within the college age range. I also decided to tie it in to a long standing world of mine, so that way I already had a solid basis of world building and lore. Placing it in what I dub the 'World of Fairytales' really anchored the story in my brain. I looked at all the other stories I'd written or developed that took place here, and I realized I'd yet to write one about death. And that's the focal point of BA:
It's a fairytale about death.
The Reception
I'm going to be honest, when I released BA I just expected it to get the same reception as anything else I'd written up to this point. I think when the demo dropped back in October 2023, I'd released two games, a game demo, and I think my novella and short story collection were out at the time. I'm terrible at marketing myself because I'd much rather vibe and make things than have to talk about it online, which is definitely part of the reason most of my work didn't even hit five hundred plays, save for one which had hit a thousand at that point. But you know, that does make it easy to keep making things when you don't feel like you have a bunch of eyes watching. (At least, for me. I know a lot of creatives feel the weight of loneliness of creation, especially when you pour so much into something only for no one to pick it up. I personally tend to release things on a whim though lol there's plenty of finished works I have laying around that I have no intention on sharing.)
Anyway, I thought Burning Academia was going to be much the same. So imagine my surprise when I post the intro post and I got eight hundred followers in a week.
My immediate thought was "I'm deleting the blog." After a year of making things no one paid attention to, eight hundred followers in a week for something was an overwhelming jump. At the time I'm writing this, we have apparently just crossed two thousand followers(???), which again, I was not expecting lol
I've been reading IFs for years now, dating back to about 2015. I was aware of the general community and vibes, although I wasn't fully in the community and just followed authors I liked. Still, I didn't realize how quick word gets around for a new IF. Especially when all I had was an intro post. Granted, I'd at least already had most of the prologue written and just needed to figure out Twine to code it in, so there was a sense of relief there that I wouldn't keep people waiting. But I did genuinely want to close up shop as quickly as I started.
Part of me is still a bit surprised I'm at where I'm at. I don't really care about numbers, be it mine or others, but I think at this point I'm closer to a mid sized author(?), which I can't comprehend. BA is more of a vibes story, with heavy themes that aren't for everyone. I also know there are certain aspects of BA that just aren't appealing to the overall IF community (it not really focusing much on romance, or the RO options being what they are, or just how bleak the first few chapters are).
I don't necessarily think it's like a niche idea, since it's just a fantasy dark academia, but I just assumed some of the details would make BA not noticed.
Anyway, clearly I'm normal about it now and my blog still exists. I do think if I knew where I'd land at, I might have waited longer to post everything, so I had a bit of backlog and more for people to play in the long run and it would have felt like a shorter wait on the player side. But also, in my defense, I did not expect 2024 to go the way it did.
What I wanted to achieve vs what I actually achieved
So, I wanted to have chapter 3 done before the end of 2024, and maybe even have chapter 4 started. It was a perfectly reasonable goal for me, in any other year where my body was better at being a body. I won't go into detail with health since I know it's a heavy topic for some, but I will briefly mention it since it was a major component to my creative output. Just skip the next paragraph if you don't feel like reading.
//
I got sick pretty much every month in 2024, with multiple of them being pretty bad infections. The second half of the year was a lot worse than the first half of the year, and that's why if it seems like everything slowed down after June/July, it's because of that. From November to now, I've been sick to varying degrees. It's why I did nothing in December because I spent it split between working still, the holidays, renewing various certifications for work, and trying to get some degree of rest between it all. My sister in law is a nurse, and she said I probably have an auto immune deficiency. Whether it's that or not, I'm going to get some tests done, and hopefully 2025 is a better year for me health wise!
//
Of course, I'm not upset with myself. Perhaps a little annoyed because I could have hit the goal I wanted if I hadn't been feeling awful for so much of the year, but I'm not annoyed with myself. Just the circumstances. I'll always be the type of person to take care of myself instead of forcing myself to do anything. Especially with something like this, which would just last to potential burn out.
So, I released 2 chapters of BA, a handful of the RO backstories, and a little short about MC's sister Marlowe. Including the unreleased chapter 3, I managed to write over 150k last year for BA. Which is a pretty solid number, honestly.
Depending on how life goes, I'll be aiming for up to chapter 4 this year. It'll also be a shorter(?) chapter than 3, or at least a little more manageable since chapter 3 just ended up having a decent chunk of branching. I won't give any estimates for chapter 3 since when I did, I missed all of them LMAO It'll release when it's ready, and I'll be chipping away at it during the times I feel alright.
Final Thoughts
This is already pretty long, so I'll bring it to a close here. If you read this far, thank you for listening to my yapping. And also just thank you to anyone whose played BA and decided to follow along for the ride!! I love BA a lot, and its both very fun and amazing and weird to see others enjoy it with me. The fact I've gotten so many asks, or fanart (please know if you drew fanart, it has been imprinted in my brain forever and also saved in a little folder on my desktop lol) is still a little surreal. So uh yeah, thanks for being here.
For my last trick, since you made it this far you can have an assortment of mindless doodles I have made of BA in questionable quality because I'm bad at photographing my art LOL
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(Some of the few digital art doodles I haven't shown. Ft. mirrored Rooks and an unfinished comic page of Rhea)
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The Rook pages
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The scribbles ft Beck and Lars
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The kinda mirrors ft Beck and Rhea
Aaaand that is all because I hit file limit (sorryyyy to Zoe I think I've already shared all the doodles of them I liked throughout the year sjsjsk)
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azurejacques · 2 months ago
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Just finished Brothersong last night. TJ Klune, the man that you are. Gotta be my favorite series of all time I fear! And like god the way I totally didn’t expect that coming in, it’s like hey here’s a silly little book about gay werewolves ! oops, did you think it wasn’t gonna get serious and rip your heart into tiny little shreds? Like my god. I have so much to say. The end was so beautifully done, though. Of course Ox’s ass would try to sacrifice himself one last time, because no matter how many times a character calls another one out for falling into that trope, they STILL DO IT. And god. Thomas’ letter to Ox,,,, hoping one day he’ll call him father,,,, I’m gonna be sick, I’m gonna weep, man.
I could write so much about how big of a theme and throughline fathers (and especially the sins of the father) are in the series, and specifically how important Thomas’ death is to the plot and the characters. Ok I’ll make that a different post !
I’m still not ready to look at all the fanart I’m gonna go feral, #sorrynotsorry but also finally maybe I’ll be able to visualize all the characters better in my head lol, that’s just smth I’ve never been good at without having like a consistent visual reference.
OHHH also my god Gavin changing his name to Gavin Walsh Bennett- AND CALLING ELIZABETH MOM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I need to be sedated!
And the bonus content from like at least like 10-13 years later when they’ve adopted children and oh my god that was so cute, Ox & Joe’s kid Callie calling Ox out on his constant bringing up of the “my daddy always said…” like pleaseeee I love seeing them get to live in peace and have happiness, and for Elizabeth to live to see peace after so so long and so so much.
I was thinking to myself last night, I think the reason I love this series so much is because it feels like a big warm queer hug- there’s so much queer joy, radical acceptance and love (e.g. the people of Green Greek accepting the Bennetts wholly and entirely as wolves and queers alike lmao) and everyone (for the most part) gets a happy ending- it’s just so full of love.
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oh-three · 28 days ago
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Skeleton Crew S1E8:
I forgot her name, but the Owl's coming back, I think :D
Omfg, I forgot we left off on a cliffhangar. Somehow.
Oh, okay. He wasn't actually about to chop them up. Dramatic ass.
facepalms in Fern
It would be funny if the supervisor's Tak Rennod, though. I do love that theory.
Wendle. Dude. LISTEN TO YOUR SON.
Getting Imperial vibes from the Supervisor's chamber…
Oh, it's a droid. Yeahhh, that wasn't unexpected either.
Well, at least Fara's listening to her child.
THE SUPERVISOR KNOWS ABOUT ORDER 66.
Damn, the Supervisor's smarter than I thought. Saw right through Jod, though Idk how tf it thought those droids would protect it.
Oh, the Supervisor was also the source of power to the whole city, rip.
THE DROIDS ARE DOWN. Fucking finally.
"Get down here," he says, as if he's been waiting on them and not the other way around. Smh Jod.
Bath time's over, Neel.
OH, OKAY THEN. JUST BOMBARD CIVILLIANS, WHY DON'T YOU.
Oooh, they're gonna call the New Republic.
Oh, I guess Wendle's gonna help then. That's cool.
Damn, the pirates really just decided they were gonna enslave everyone.
There's something both really tragic and really inspiring about a handful of kids and Wim's dad going out of their way to save everyone. Especially watching them ride through the streets getting shot at by pirates. Kids.
"You kids know how to fly this thing???" Yeah, barely.
HAYNA. That's the owl's name.
Fern giving an inspirational speech about the rest of the galaxy to her mother >>>
Jod. Shut up.
The fact that no one's fixed SM-33 yet is depressing.
You, in fact, did not have him, Vane.
The look on Jod's face when Fern joined in on Wim's distraction story. The most baffled "what-the-fuck" expression ever. 🤣
YESSSSSSSSSSSSS
THEY FIXED HIM! I AM SO HAPPY. I ACTUALLY CHEERED.
AND THEN ACCIDENTALLY RESTARTED THE EPISODE AND HAD TO GUESS THE TIMESTAMP.
Everybody loves good ol' 33. :D
Lmfao, I just realized KB is literally holding his head next to his body, that's even funnier. Glad to know nothing was gravely damaged internally. Systems are fully functional, he just needs to be reattached.
Heh, Jod actually looks regretful.
Anyway, KB and 33 are fine. The ship was level when it crashed. That was just debris from their surroundings.
Jod's lost it again. Damn.
Anyone else notice how he lashes out when the kids make him feel bad, and he tries blaming them when they're only reacting to his actions?
BACKSTORY TIME.
So, Jod was almost a Jedi. Barely a trainee. He probably felt like he'd been saved, then felt that ripped away. So yeah, he is jealous of the kids, because of his own childhood.
And all of those Jedi comments are reminding him of what could have been if the Empire hadn't killed the one that found him.
My man is traumatized. Except he took it wrong and went off the rails.
Wendle punching Jod in the face was still incredibly satisfying, though, let's be honest.
Wim igniting the lightsaber >>>>>>
Bye bye, Barrier.
Hello, X-Wings :D
AND B-WINGS.
At Attin's probably gonna join the New Republic after this.
Wim calling out for Jod to come with them, despite everything he's done 😭
THE FUCKING MUSIC??????
…Is the New Republic gonna help repair the city? Damn, man.
RIP Jod, probably.
Oh yeah, the Onyx got caught in a great spot, actually. KB's fine.
cue 33 carrying his own head lmao
Wim's gonna join the New Republic when he's old enough, isn't he. I saw the way he was watching those ships. I think he'd enjoy being a pilot.
Noooooooooo, it's over. I'm sad now. I actually loved this show way more than I thought I would.
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localaceken · 7 months ago
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Ninjago DR S2 Part 2 thoughts, spoilers ahead.
First few episodes were...rough.
- Rody was kinda annoying at first, but I grew to like him as the episodes went on. I'm glad Wildfire found someone to match her Freak. I like that he is geniunely into her too.
- I can't believe Bolobo fucking died lmao rip in piss.
Nero, Chamille and Shade cameos were nice. I like that Tox and Mr.Pale actually had dialouge AND WE FINALLY SAW WHAT MR.P LOOKS LIKE YES.
Ily Geo <3 The Goblinnnnnnnn
Zeatrix was annoying lmao I get why Beatrix hated her ass
Otherwise liked all the new elemental powers and masters introduced. [I can hear Legacyverse screaming already. Rip.]
[Elemental Master of Balance is a thing...welp. There goes the 'Riyu will become the Source Dragon of Balance' theory I suppose]
- I really hoped they would do more with Jay, not only because he's my fave but he could have been more. I think revealing his identity and making him lose his first round immediately was a mistake. Also the teams reactions to him??? Being there??? HELLO?!?! HES BEEN LOST FOR YEARS!?!?! AND YALL ARE LIKE "oh hey Jay is here."!?!? YALL ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FAMILY?!?!?!?@?@?@ BROTHERS?!?!?!?!
Istfg only Nya actually gives a shit about Jay at this point.
Sigh...at least his voice is deeper now...it was kinda getting annoying how high pitched it became over the years...
Being a Jay fan is suffering.
[Anyways, go read Lightning Pin by @taddymason for peak DR Jay content.]
- I like that Ras had no idea what was going on with Nokt and I like that The Forbidden Five, mostly Nokt, and Ras ancestors had something going on [the something was hating eachother, probably]
Kinda not buying Ras' whole 'unmerging the realms' thing though.
Also what the fuck is up with Cinder and immediately betraying Ras lmao bootlicker behavior.
I'm glad Jordana made it out and Sora realized. Well. Everything. I hope we get to see her again so she can get a proper redemption arc.
- I'm loving Arin's arc so far. He's not evil. He's morally grey at this point. I would be too if I was in his shoes. He just wants to find his parents, but he always had to put ninja business up first, but decided that enough is enough and he will find his parents, without the ninja.
I wouldn't be surprised if he and Ras try to manipulate eachother next season. It would be fun to watch. [Bonus points if Ras backstory and redemption. Pls. I want tiger dad]
Welp. This is it for now I guess, feel free to ask about my opinions on specific stuff.
7/10 Good season. Could have done much more on certain places but still a good and entertaining watch.
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lalalian · 7 months ago
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let’s talk students: aethergarde dr (dragon rider school dr)
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date: july 18, 2024
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jkdshfkhskd it's been a hot sec since I've done this. Teagan won the poll last time, so we'll be going over him today!
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pronunciation:
Teagan: (Tee-gen) (‘gen’ as in ‘again’)
Whit: (Wit)
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appearance:
There are two kinds of people— you either prefer Teagan or Asterias. These two are genuinely so fine that students tend to like them (like a crush yk, not just platonically or smth LMAO) based on their personalities rather than solely relying on their looks.
Teagan’s got golden olive toned tanned skin, gray eyes, and full messy black hair. He’s got defined masculine leaning features and he’s ABSOLUTELY ripped. I didn’t make him like this without a purpose— It was simply because he helps his family transport heavy crates to different ships and wagons (I mean like he’s quite active in general, not just walking of course, he likes fighting and working out)
Teagan has a severe case of RBF despite his personality; he’s got no tattoos or piercings, tho I think he’d like to get his ears pierced.
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I realized I haven’t said what style they like to wear, so I’ll do it for Teagan today (I’ll edit the rest of the posts with their own styles eventually). Teagan isn’t really into fashion; he values mobility and comfort over style as long as he doesn’t look, in his opinion, ‘noble and stupid’. He doesn’t like stiff shirts, so he usually wears looser garments. His wardrobe consists of brown, dark brown, black, cream, and very occasionally… dark green. He almost always wears some kind of boots (unless it’s a special occasion, he’d be wearing the black dress shoes his dad forced him to wear). As for his hair, if his hair’s long enough, he’ll tie it in the back. The most he’ll really do is brush through it.
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personality:
Teagan’s a total extrovert and tends to have large circles of friends. When he’s alone for long periods of time, he can get a little antsy. I imagine that he’d bother his friends to hang out during finals season, but since everyone’s probably studying, he’d have to accept taking some notes in the library 😭
He’s the kind of guy that would try to help you out with literally anything, even if he’s not good at it. He’s a terrible artist, but loves to draw stupid things just to mail them to his friends. Teagan would definitely also pass notes around in class. Like Straus, he’s a terrible dancer, but yk at least Straus gets dance lessons… NEVER dance with this guy.
Despite his playful nature, he knows when to get serious. Teagan’s more of a logical thinker, but he’s incredibly kind and doesn’t like to see people he’s close to get hurt.
He really loves eating meat and raw fish. His dad had to stop him from eating fish straight up out a river (uncooked) many times as a child. Teagan’s also really good with kids; he knows how to cheer a kid up or teach them something without getting super irritated. Teagan’s weird asf not gonna lie, but hey at least he’s a really good cook. He doesn’t really cook for people he doesn’t know honestly, so like he only does it for people he’s close to.
relationships & status
Teagan was raised by his father after his mother died giving birth to him. Unlike a ton of Isekai manhwa fathers, his father didn’t hate him for being born, rather, he put all of his love into raising his son.
Teagan was raised well despite his non-noble status— his dad is a wealthy merchant. He often interacted with nobles because of his dad’s business; through these interactions, he grew a strong hatred for nobles. It isn’t rare for those higher in the social chain to treat people ‘lower’ than them with disrespect, and he definitely got a glimpse of this kind of mindset when attending meetings with his dad.
When Teagan was about 8 yrs old, his dad adopted another child off the street. This child ended up becoming Teagan’s little brother; his dad called him Archie because he used to arch his brow whenever he was the slightest bit confused— but then at around 3 years old, his dad decided that he needed a better name, so he named him ‘Archer’. Teagan and his dad still calls him Archie. When you shift here, Archie will be 13.
As you’d expect, Teagan’s really close with his dad and his younger brother. Teagan was supposed to inherit the family business, but since he’s an S-ranked rider, Teagan’s dad began teaching Archie all the stuff he needs to inherit his dad’s position just in case Teagan wants to do something else with his life.
His dad doesn’t want Teagan to be involved with super dangerous jobs; he’ll likely get pretty angry if Teagan wants to pursue a more dangerous career.
likes & dislikes:
likes:
-coffee, nothing added, just straight up black coffee
-wrestling with his brother
-cooking
-working out
-he likes fighting in general
-dogs. He likes dogs way more than cats
-the smell of leather
-dragons, he thinks they’re cool but he’s never aspired to be a rider simply because he didn’t think he’d be able to be one
dislikes:
-salads
-pooping (he’s got chronic constipation)
-reading
-tea unless it has boatloads of sugar in it
-nobles (yeah ik surprising, right?)
-chess
aura:
Teagan’s aura is an uncommon plume; unlike the students we’ve discussed before, his aura is single toned. I mean like the inner portion of his aura is darker, but like its bc the mana is more concentrated there yk?
#a8673e
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dragon:
Teagan will bond to a male yellow wingwalker, and he’ll name him Kiser (Kai-sir).
strengths & weaknesses:
strengths:
-very physically strong
-good at cooperation (at times)
-great social skills
-dear god his martial arts skills are insane
-brave and persistent
weaknesses:
-finds reading boring; makes it hard for him to consume long texts, I’d imagine he’d ask someone close to him to read out a passage, then he’ll take notes that way
-a little dumb at times (it’s okay we love a himbo)
-has a habit of doing something crazy before thinking; he’d fight a monster he’s not really ready to fight for the fun of it
-can be lazy sometimes
-often wants someone near him to talk to; he likes to talk lmao
fighting style:
He mainly doesn’t use a weapon, but if he had to he’d fight with two sabers. His primary fighting skill is martial arts, his saber skills are average.
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wanna know more about my aethergarde academy dr? here's a masterlist with everything I've posted about it!
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chuuyascumsock · 2 years ago
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Hot Cocket || Minors DNI
I just realized I never posted my Dazai fucking a hot pocket fic on here. If the Ao3 babes had to suffer, y’all do too LMAO.
Summary: Ah, yes, welcome to the bullshit that I call “art”. Today’s episode: Dazai fucks a Hot Pocket. Don’t ask me what gave me this idea, my friend came up with it so thank him for this utter monstrosity. I suppose I’ll take the smallest bit of credit for wanting to write a crackfic of Dazai sticking his dick in something he shouldn’t— because it’s called having a sense of humor.
Tags: Dazai Osamu/Hot Pocket, I talk about how dazai would definitely be a ham and cheese hot pocket kind of a guy, I make kind of weird metaphorical jokes, If Asagiri gets to blow children up then I can throw them into traffic, descriptions of fucking a hot pocket, descriptions of burning the dick (because he’s fucking a HOT pocket), um… creampie in a hot pocket..?, oh— and then Fyodor eats the hot cum pocket lol.
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Dazai had been feeling particularly lonely on a Saturday night.
Without any women around to woo with his unhinged rizz, Dazai sought after a cheap comfort food he often turned to in his crippling depressive times. The freezer flings open with a creak to reveal the godly image of a box of hot pockets. As expected— nothing else resided in the freezer other than said hot pockets because Dazai was as broke as a medical college student in debt.
Dazai reaches a bandaged hand inside before grasping the box and pulling it close to his chest. He could already feel saliva pooling in his mouth as he re-lived his previous encounters and tastes of his hot pockets. But this one was different. This one was pepperoni. Normally, Dazai was a ham and cheese kind of guy, but they had been barren of any ham and cheese hot pockets. It made him sad to think about, but it also brought rejoice as he could finally try another flavor of hot pocket.
Dazai is quick to tear the box’s top off and reach a hand inside to grab the frozen snack pocket out. Even in a plastic wrapping, he could still smell the permeating waft of garlic and herbs. He fumbled around the kitchen as he ripped the plastic off and put the snack into the small cardboard pocket, basically throwing the hot pocket into the microwave like you would throw a small child into oncoming traffic.
Not really giving a fuck, Dazai punches the microwave which some how starts a two minute timer and the hot pocket starts spinning in small, grueling long circles. His eyes stare into the microwave’s glass window, taking in the way the hot pocket slowly warms up.
Deep down, Dazai wished to be a hot pocket. Because he, too, wished to be cooked in a microwave. What a way to go out.
It feels like eternity until the microwave beeps loudly to signify that the slutty— I mean tasty treat is done cooking. His eyes light up and Dazai takes the hot pocket out of the microwave. “It’s… It’s beautiful…” He whispers tearfully as the hot pocket steams from the packet. Realizing how hot it was the next few seconds after, he tosses it between his hands and onto the counter gently, “Ow— hot, hot— ahhhh.”
Staring at the hot pocket, Dazai begins to drool excessively— oh, and he was hard. Dude got a raging boner from looking at this hot pocket too long. Just like me fr.
“Aw man, now I’m super horny…” He whines as he looks down at his tightened slacks. He thinks for a moment before he looks back to the hot pocket and gets an idea.
The hot pocket steamed in need of his ACHING COCK (I can see you cringing behind that screen, Guac <3). Or at least that’s how Dazai took it because of how horny he was. “You want me, don’t you?” He grins at the hot pocket with desire— only getting a soft puff of steam in return and a whiff of garlic that made him twice as hard.
Eager to get off now, Dazai unzips his slacks and pushes them down enough to have access to the hot pocket. His accurate sized dick of three inches— I mean— his monster cock slapped against his stomach as he wasn’t wearing underwear because it’s canon that he goes commando. Dazai then took the hot pocket and brought it to his lips before taking a slow bite. And in typical Dazai fashion— he moaned loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear and got several noise complaints which all went to Kunikida’s answering machine.
“My god, you’re such a slutty tease,” Dazai groans, swallowing the cold ass bite that’s always at the end of the hot pocket. Pushing at the sides with his fingers, the hot pocket opens to reveal its gooey melted cheese and sloppy pizza sauce insides with the occasional chunks of pepperoni. Dazai stroked his cock until he had spread enough precum along his length, though it’s questionable as to why he would as he’s fucking a hot pocket pussy and not actual pussy because he gets none.
Wasting no more time, Dazai slid his dick into the scalding hot pocket and screamed from the pain of literal lava burning the skin of his dick. But he kept trekking through the feeling, because he’ll be damned having his dick blistered by some hot pizza sauce and melting mozzarella chunks ruin him from being horny enough to fuck a microwaveable snack. “Yeah, you like that you dirty, saucy whore?” He grunted, uncaring of the melted cheese and pizza sauce sticking to his now blistering cock.
As this poor hot pocket was being violated like no one’s business, Kunikida was sobbing himself to sleep after getting multiple detailed complaints about how loud Dazai was being while he was aggressively fucking a hot pocket like I did to your mom last night.
“I’m gonna turn you into a toaster strudel, baby,” Dazai moaned loudly, thrusting harder into the hot pocket before filling it to the brim with his cum. “That’s it, take my seed you cheesy whore…” He panted, pulling his dick out of the cum stuffed hot pocket. It took a few moments until he realized the damage that the hot pocket had done to his dick as he looked down to see the various red burn spots and blistering skin covered in pizza sauce, cheese, and pepperoni. “Now I’m going to need bandages for my dick…” He sighed, tossing the hot pocket aside like they didn’t have a special bond. “Well, I’m not hungry anymore, my dick hurts… Time to stick it in some ice cream~” Dazai trailed off to get Kunikida’s credit card to go buy and defile yet another item of food.
As the hot pocket sat on the ground oozing with cum, a rat squeaked and scampered by before sniffing the hot pocket. Deemed worthy enough to take it back to its master, the rat dragged the hot pocket into a mouse hole and scrambled through the walls of the apartments until it made its way outside and into a manhole. Making its way through the sewers, the rat finally arrives at its master.
“What is this?” A Russian accent echoes through the sewers. Slender hands pick up the rat and the hot pocket, Fyodor looking at both with a questionable gaze. The rat squeaks to communicate with the Russian joker and squirms out of his grasp to scatter off to its family.
“A toaster strudel, you say? I’ve never seen such a thing, incredible…” Fyodor doesn’t even bother to take a good look at the hot pocket to see the fluids dripping out of it before he takes a large bite and chews. His face scrunches up— but he keeps eating because man is anemic and refuses to eat anymore of his belly button lint to survive.
“What a strange tasting toaster strudel…”
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