#on any hope they might have to one day be equal to humans

[cacoetheswriting]

Please more Congressman Bucky and his assistant - I beg of you. I love your writing so much, been a silent follower for a long time!

stop it omg! i'm glad you're here and i hope you enjoy this <3

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x assistant!fem!reader word count: 1.5k

content warnings: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, workplace romance in the making (aka slow burn), power dynamic imbalance (boss/employee), age gap (although not necessarily specified, reader would be mid 20s and bucky is obviously over 100 lol), mutual pining, use of pet names, fluff, jealousy and slightly possessive bucky - unedited - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

a/n: technically part 2 of this fic, but can be totally read as a standalone.

A document remains hidden in the bottom drawer of Bucky’s desk, under some random paperwork that no one will ever need.

You’re his assistant. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s how it should be — despite said document itching at the back of his mind. The blank Consensual Relationship Agreement (just in case, or whatever bullshit he’s telling himself).

Days pass as normally as they can. Following a rather flirty lunch, you’re careful around him, not wanting to say anything untoward. Bucky notices this shift immediately and ultimately decides, despite the overwhelming urge to ask what’s on your mind, if you’re as confused as he is, equally lost in the possibilities, not to point it out. 

News of a job opportunity in London spreads through the office like wildfire. Working for the Prime Minister, now that’s experience Bucky can’t guarantee and he makes himself forget about the document along with the attached attraction and one conversation that led to almost… nothing. It led to nothing.

You don’t say anything to anyone, until the day of his big speech.

Karen, Head of Personnel and human resources police, informs the future congressman you took a couple of personal days. She doesn’t give any details, but Bucky suspects it has something to do with London. A pain in his chest, a crack.

Luckily, the event goes without a hitch. Bucky is a hit. His speech was impressive, jaw muscles relaxed — a vast improvement from the last couple of times, and there's only one person to thank.

Afterwards, he’s redirected to a different room where a portion of the attending voters, who are also big campaign sponsors, gather to meet with him personally for a further discussion. He’s circling the crowd, shaking hands and waving.

There, amongst the few, Bucky’s gaze immediately latches itself to you. Like a magnet. Surprise graces his otherwise brooding features and he chews the inside of his cheek, fighting back a smile.

You wave. Fingers dangling one by one.

“Excuse me,” he says to one of the sponsors currently accosting him, “I’ll be right back.”

All eyes are on him as he crosses the room, but he doesn’t care. You’re with him, not in London, like he suspected you might be.

“What are you doing here?” His tone is pleasant, welcoming. “It’s your day off.”

“I’ve been told to remind you about a charity dinner for Survivors of The Blip.”

“You could have called,” he says simply, “I’m a pretty relaxed boss. You don’t need to uproot your day to do your job, especially during your time off.”

“I know you don’t really check your phone when you’re attending these things,” you say, tilting your head sideways. “So I figured it’ll be easier to come here and remind you personally.”

You smile sweetly. And because silence stretches, as he holds your eye contact a little too long, you add:

“Plus I have a date in the area.”

Bucky’s jaw locks at the word ‘date’. The sting of jealousy is worse than thinking he may never see you again.

“I watched your speech on my way here,” you tell the brooding man, not letting him stew. “You did good. Definitely an improvement from last time.”

He drops his shoulders, relaxing, and lets out a low, breathy chuckle.

“I took your advice.”

You arch a brow. “Had S-E-X?”

“No, no.” Bucky shakes his head, smirking. “To test that theory, I’m waiting for a uh…”

“Worthy mate?”

He snorts. “Something like that.”

There’s another beat of silence. Charged with something far beyond platonic. He’s fighting the sense to reach for you, here in front of all these people.

“You should get back to mingling,” you say. “There will be a car waiting for you out front in an hour taking you to the hotel. You have a room, number 313. Here’s the key and you’ll find your tux hanging on the wardrobe door.”

“And you?” Bucky asks unintentionally. The key in his Vibranium palm, your fingers still gently pressing against the plastic.

“Me?”

“You know where I’ll be. Shouldn’t I know where you are?” He’s testing the waters. You can tell him to fuck off, he’ll understand. He’ll hate every second of it, but he’ll understand.

Instead, you roll your eyes. “I’ll send you a location pin, boss.”

And with that, you saunter out of the room. 

He watches you go off on your date with a sinking feeling in his chest. Rationally, Bucky knows it’s ridiculous. He’s got no claim on you. Aside from occasional light flirting, there’s nothing else going on between the two of you. He may want there to be — especially late at night, when he’s in bed all alone — but from what he hears, London is on the table and he won’t hold you back from chasing a dream.

The charity dinner is just more politics.

Bucky is bored out of his mind. He wishes for a friendly face. Sometimes Wilson attends these things, but tonight doesn’t seem to be on Captain America’s agenda. So he sits alone at the large banquet table and nurses a whiskey.

Someone will approach the odd time. Thank him for his good work or wish him luck in the upcoming election. He politely shakes their hand, makes small talk, and lets them walk away to the next table.

He thinks to thank you tomorrow. For the work you do. All these people, telling him how great he is for the personalised emails with detailed information on campaign progress. The meeting reminders, and the efficient follow-ups with transcribed minutes. The overall care. You do that.

Uncharted feelings aside, losing you to London would be a blow to his campaign.

And just as Bucky is thinking of possible ways to influence you to stay, his phone buzzes. He retrieves it from the inside pocket of his tux. Your name graces his screen and the brunette man can’t help the smile that circles his lips.

The text is simple. A location pin, as promised, to a restaurant a block away.

He types: Received with thanks.

Three dots appear, then disappear. One minute passes and nothing. Bucky thinks you must be enjoying your date and is about to lock his phone, put it away, when it vibrates in his grasp once more.

You: In case charity becomes too boring.

Bucky blinks at the words. He re-reads the text a couple of times to really make sure you’ve sent it, and even after he’s done so, he’s not sure what to make of it.

He sends: Am I faking a work emergency?

You: ???

Bucky: What about your date?

You: I wouldn’t be texting my boss if I was enjoying myself.

Then, a few seconds later.

You: No show.

The brunette man’s grip tightens around the glass in his hand. Anger rises, bubbles up inside his chest, waiting to burst. He does his best to suppress the feeling, but the thought of you sitting alone at a restaurant, stood up by some dickhead, makes it difficult.

He’s up on his feet, making his way through the crowd before he can talk himself out of the idea.

Outside, the air is chilling. Bucky hopes it’s not a sign of what’s to come. He walks down the dimly lit streets of the city, phone in one hand because even though he’s got your current location memorised, the blue dot is enticing. He can’t let it disappear.

He can’t let you disappear.

There it is again, the thought of losing you to London. Creeping up on him, then falling like a ton of bricks. Bucky quickly shakes his head. Trying to suppress what he’s feeling about this particular scenario. Now is not the time.

Nearing the restaurant, Bucky’s movement falters. He sees you standing outside. One arm hugging the long coat closer to your body, the other down your side, flicking ash off a cigarette. You lift your head in his direction, almost as if you can feel his gaze on you, and a smile flashes across your features.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” you say as he approaches. Honey-like tone, although a splinter of sadness.

“There’s only so much mingling I can handle.” Bucky’s careful with his words.

You raise a brow. “I suppose I’m flattered. Not every boss would choose his PA over a fancy dinner.”

He swallows. I’d choose you over everything, seems like too loaded of an answer. But the words are there, at the tip of his tongue. He just can’t push himself to say them. Yet.

“Should we go in?” Bucky asks, hand at the back of his head, uneasy, not wanting to let silence win because when it’s quiet, you might decide this — whatever this is — is a mistake. He’ll unintentionally push you towards London.

“I uh, I actually gave the table up,” you answer, putting the cigarette out, and he tries to hide his disappointment.

He swallows a breath, arm falling back down to his side. Then, Bucky looks around. Some passers-by point, whisper. His lips purse into a tight, fake smile. He waves and mouths hello, as always polite because that’s how he was raised, but truthfully, he wants you alone.

He’d even settle for alone-ish.

“But I’m assuming you didn’t eat?” The brooding brunette wonders, catching your eyes once again.

You shake your head in response.

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” Charming tone and that damn moniker making your cheeks bloom with blood.

Bucky proceeds to turn on his heel and starts to walk, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re following — which, to his delight, you are.

With a bright smile on your face.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[the-teufort-nine]

Can you do the mercs with an autistic scientist wife, who loves books, music and butt pats please? (Preferably spy, medic, Engie, scout and sniper please!!) thank you!!! Have a good day!!!

this you? XD ahaha im sure you loved that this took me forever to answer😬

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Mercs x Autistic/Scientist/Wife!Reader: Books, Beats, and Butt Pats ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring: Spy, Engineer, Scout, Medic, and Sniper

Spy:

You got this man to settle down and marry you?! Good lord, you must be magic.

Big sugar daddy energy from Spy ngl. Expect to be treated to lavish gifts from him often. Deep in the grips of a new hyperfixation? Prepare to be gifted something related to it every week or so.

Loves how smart and driven you are. After years of working with moronic lunatics and madmen, you are a welcome change.

Will go out of his way to get you hard to find records and books if you are mad at him.

You can try and get him to quit smoking, but unless its a huge trigger for you, he probably won't, even if you show him what his lungs probably look like.

Probably won't pat your ass, since he's a

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Gentleman. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

But he might give it a squeeze if you two are in the mood ;)

Engineer:

ASS MAN ASS MAN A S S M A N

You're this man's wife? Butt pats ahoy! No, seriously, you're getting your rump lightly smacked on the daily.

Really enjoys having a partner that is near or on the same intellectual level as him. He would still love you if you weren't, but its really nice to have someone aside from Medic that he can talk shop with.

I hope you like country music, because Engie built every single music playing device in the house, which pretty much gives him complete control over the music choice when he's home.

Let's be honest here; this man is probably also autistic.

Your interests may not be the same, but you two like to be together when you're engaging with them. The parallel play goes crazy.

You two definitely have matching reclining chairs in your living room that you read your books in. Comfortable silence your beloved <3

Scout:

God, please stick around. This man needs someone in his life who isn't a deadbeat good lord-

He will happily listen to you talk about your interests any day, even your science related ones, but do not expect him to understand anything above, like, a seventh grade level.

ADHD 🤝Autism power couple

Butt pats? Hell yeah! Grass grows, birds fly, and brotha? He's smacking your ass like a set of bongos.

Household music is an equal mix of your interests and his. Expect to hear Tom Jones in the mornings; he likes to play his records while he makes breakfast.

Can't read nearly as well as you, but he really likes listening to you read.

Medic:

Like Engineer, this man appreciates a wife with a good head on her shoulders and a t h i c c ass.

Will give you butt pats, but be warned! There is a 50/50 chance his hands are covered in blood.

Probably also on the spectrum.

He probably introduces you to German music and literature, and will happily teach you the language if you ask!

Need some less-than-legal supplies for a project or experiment? Don't even worry, queen, your man will provide. <3

You are definitely going to live longer than most humans. Even if an accident takes you out, Medic surgically grafted your soul to his a long time ago, so not even death will do you part!

I think you two would dance to your shared records together pretty often.

Sniper:

Butt pats? Nah, butt bites.

FREAK behaviour with this man. He is a wild bushman who lives in a van and who's most developmentally impactful social interactions came from insane, bloodthirsty mercenaries who were not even close to being normal. How did you get him to propose.

A good listener though! He remembers the little things that you mention, and will often surprise you with something related to an interest of yours, even if you only mentioned it once.

Not a huge music fan, but he lets you have total control over his van's radio. You are the only one who gets this privillage.

Asks you to preserve small animals for him sometimes. He likes to keep them as decorations.

Please invent something to counteract those Mann Co. kidney enlarging pills. Please.

Loves reading with you! This man enjoys silence, and he actually really enjoys a good book or two when he had downtime.

[amazinglyashy]

hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻

Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.

LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away

Xavier -

Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.

The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.

Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.

Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-

You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.

Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.

But until then, he's got you.

He's always got you.

Zayne -

He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.

Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.

He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.

Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…

A lot of care.

If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.

"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."

Sylus -

Deep breath, it's going to be alright.

Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.

But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.

He just didn't expect it to come so soon.

Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.

A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.

For as long as you may need.

Rafayel -

He hated cats.

Except for this one.

That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.

He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.

He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.

He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.

Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.

It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.

Almost.

And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine Halbrand realising that the light he was drawn to in Galadriel is actually yours...

Imagine Halbrand realising that the light he was drawn to in Galadriel is actually yours...

He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He perceived you to be nothing different than any ordinary elf. No, not even that, he thought your human half left you even weaker. He couldn't be more wrong.

The scene kept haunting him even hours later. A glimpse at your true form, your true strength that you somehow kept hidden behind your mortal blood's influence... It was still hard to believe what he perceived of Galadriel was just a fragment, an echo of your true light.

His yearning for it more intense than anything he ever felt, yet your words to the elf in the next cell kept knocking him back down to earth.

The blissfully calm exterior you presented for the days he had known you had shattered when Galadriel was trying to justify her actions by her need for vengeance and she tried to rope you into her mess with reminding you of your shared loss in the worst way possible.

"Do you not care that the evil who took them from us is still out there?" she accused, going on about listing her brothers' bravery to go to fight evil and urging you to do the same.

Your reaction was startlingly violent. Grabbing her neck through the bars, you practically hissed through your teeth the words that condemned your kin to her current hollow state.

"I am tired of you using them as an excuse to justify your bloodthirst. If you ever again dare to imply that this selfish insanity is for them, tainting their name, their memory, and everything they stood for, then I might put you out of your misery myself." Halbrand saw you squeeze the elf's throat for good measure before you delivered your sentence to his fellow sinner.

"If you wish to wallow in this darkness, I will not hold you back anymore." As you said these words, he could see the light leaving Galadriel and returning to you, the bond he couldn't sense before cut by you, revealing a darkness not only in her but deep down in your human heart as well before he had seen your soul glow unlike any other elf's he ever met.

His need for you was edging on obsession but your parting words left him with equal amount of hope and dread as he realised how similar his and the elf's trouble is. Clearly thinking about what to do and with a slightly regretful expression you left the elf a little glimpse of light after all.

"Perhaps it is my fault," you mused out loud. "I was holding you up for too long and you forgot how to walk on your own." You paused with a heavy sigh. "What I know for certain now that if you do not want to get up from the floor where you are wasting away, then I cannot help." Another pause, a longer one as you contemplated something before gently adding on your offer. "You have to find your strength to stand on your own but if you do, and you want my help then, I promise, I will not let you fall."

Those words were like knives to his heart. The eternal loneliness he felt amplified to an unbearable degree but there was also a spark of hope, that perhaps you would offer the same help to him if he asked for it...

[koolades-world]

Hey! I hope you're having a great time and doing great with those finals! So, I wanted to ask about how you think the brothers (plus my bb boys Solomon and Simeon if you can) would react to one having a really big surgery.

I just came back to my home after a pretty big surgery and now I'm recovering, so me and my only 2 brain cells left were wondering that haha

I just hope you can have some great results on your finals and that you can write this!

Thank you and have a great morning, day or night!

hi!! hope your recovery went well <33 sending my best wishes

enjoy <3

Mc has a big surgery

Lucifer

he makes sure you have no rad work during recovery

he might be a demon but he’s not that cruel haha

anything to ensure your speedy recovery <3

Mammon

he's at your side, hand and foot

the entire time you're getting the surgery, he's biting his nails and pacing where ever he might be

afterwards, he's super clingy but refuses to admit that he is

Levi

along with mammon, he’s in the waiting room

while you recover is the perfect time to catch up on animes and mangas

he’s there if you need someone to rant to haha

Satan

this little romantic shit always makes sure you have fresh flowers in your room

if you have any specifics that you want, he’ll make sure you get them

even if they’re human world only, he will get his hands on them for you

Asmo

seems like the most likely to burst into tears in general

nothing wrong with that though! it hehe shows how much he really cares

he wants to be the first thing you see when you wake back up so he’s by your side 24/7

Beel

despite the fact that you have dedicated nurses

he’s always making sure you’ve eaten and aren’t hungry

is willing to run anywhere to get your favorite food at anytime

Belphie

you will find him sleeping on a chair in your room

or even in the floor if the chair is uncomfortable

almost equally as clingy as mammon

Simeon

he’s always sending cute little gift baskets for you <3

before the surgery, he makes sure to let you know he’s thinking about you

afterwards, he makes sure to catch you up on anything interesting that might have happened

Solomon

if you want something, he makes sure that you get it

any sort of limited sweets or games, he’s got you

if all you want is him by your side, then that’s what he’ll do for you

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

solomon couldn't stand your pact marks.

well, no, that wasn't the right way to put it. he was proud, even jealous of your pacts. they were one of the many admirable things about you! he just hated... looking at them. he knew what other people thought when they saw them.

when one would see those marks on your skin for the first time, they would be able to get a glimpse at your relationship with the brothers. one of trust and respect, gathered from just a glance. meanwhile, one would have to be told about his and your relationship. one look at you couldn't decipher all the time you two have shared together, filled with chatting between classes, practicing magic for hours, and endless love.

at first, solomon tried to mitigate this with his own marks upon your skin. wearing lipstick as he placed a kiss on your neck, a few stray bite marks from your time together at night. but those, while fun, were temporary. and solomon needed something permanent.

why not a ring?

(Hope you don't mind me adding on, anon. Thank you for the delicious meal! Literally so honored to read your beautiful work! 🥹)

Getting the ring was the easy part. Getting you away from the brothers long enough to propose...was not.

The lengths Solomon went through to be able to have a private moment with you might put him in a record book as the three realms' most whipped man. With the mask of his "shady" persona secured, he lets his silver tongue weave him through these seven obstacles, the sin of each dripping from it with only you on his mind.

Swallowing his pride, breathing in greed, spitting out envy...his wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. A vicious rinse, repeat until he's either buttered them up or grated them down until they finally gave in. But he did it. With the day cleared of any interruptions, his plans were set in motion.

He decides to have a redo of your very first date, flying you up and walking in the sky amongst the stars. It's just the two of you against the ever inky black sky of the Devildom, a place that has become synonymous with your presence. Only this time, there are no surprise gales, no surprise drones -- just the surprise of a velvet heart-shaped box in the inside pocket of his coat.

Solomon brings up fond memories of your time together as you both near the spot he's picked to pop the question. He's filled with a giddy glee that soon you'll have something that binds you to him, something to show the world you're his.

Still, there's a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that you could say no. That perhaps he's not worthy. Does he deserve to have matching rings adorned on his and your fingers forevermore? Does he dare stand by your side as your equal when you are, in fact, so far above him?

He decides it's best not to dwell on such thoughts as this is meant to be a happy occasion, as long as all goes well.

Your feet touch the ground once he lowers you both on top of a cliff that overlooks the Devildom, the moon hanging brightly above. As you take in the magnificent sight, he lowers himself on one knee behind you, waiting with bated breath for you to turn on your own volition.

The moment you do, he knows he'll have to keep this memory stored away with his magic, just staring in awe. The moon is angled just right that it shines right behind your head like a halo. Your eyes are as wide as saucers while your jaw is slacked. With the way you look, he truly wonders if he's in the Celestial Realm.

Nervously, Solomon begins his improvised speech after clearing his throat, "my dearest apprentice, it is with great honor that I'm knelt before you tonight. I have dreamt of this moment more than I'd care to admit, yet I never thought it'd come true. But here I am, willing to give you all of me, if you're willing to give me all of you. You are the sun to my moon, the air in my lungs, the very reason why I believe I've lived so long. I was always meant to find you and work side by side to protect the human realm together. And most importantly, to love you. So, please do this old sorcerer a favor...by marrying me..."

He pulls out the ring box, opening it to offer you the ring within. The blessed box is shaking as he trembles, waiting patiently for your answer.

Happy tears spring from his eyes once you say, "yes." The ring is carefully slipped onto your finger, and a single word comes to Solomon's mind.

Mine.

[alphajocklover]

There's this... thing I want to try out involving spiritual medium-ing, where you summon a lingering spirit to talk through you... It's dangerous, but I want to try it anyway along with adding rapid change effects to the mix. Prepped my average nerdy body with the spell, and summoned up a big jock who lost his body just a bit too early, And basically let him share. What do you think will happen to me?

Dude… I’m sorry but that's a horrible idea. It’s one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard. I don’t know if you have a possession kink (which I’m not shaming, I’ll admit that possession can be hot), or are just really altruistic guy and want to help some poor jock who passed on too soon experience some semblance of life, but you are not thinking this through. You’re allowing another human soul to enter your body. I don’t think I have to tell you that most human bodies are supposed to have one soul in them. So this… this is going to get weird.

You, knowing it was already dangerous to have someone possess you, plan to cast a spell on yourself that would change your body as you did it, and you didn’t wonder if those spells would interact in a way you didn’t expect them to. I can think of a hundred different ways this could go terribly wrong. You could simply turn into the jock who was possessing you, with him changing your body to fit his needs and then pushing your soul out into the netherworld. You could end up as some sort of werejock, transforming into the jock who possessed you both physically and mentally at some time of day or whenever you encounter some trigger. Any number of things could happen really. But I think I know what would happen. I think I know the spell you’re planning on casting on your body, and it’s more powerful than you think it is. When it senses two souls in one body, something that most human bodies can’t handle, the spell will react… and split you in two.

It wouldn’t be as graphic as you’re probably imagining. Magic, even the accidental magic you’d be using, is rarely gruesome unless you want it to be. It’ll be quick too. A flash of light, some pressure, a little pain, and soon there will be two of you. One body for each soul. It’ll be almost like a resurrection for the jock you’ll be summoning… but of course things won’t be that simple. Even for the small amount of time your soul and his soul are in the same body, they’ll have a large impact on eachother. His soul will most likely be the stronger one, since it was strong enough to survive after death, so he’ll have the most influence. See, when you split it won’t end up with one version of him and his new version of you, or even two versions of you. In the end you’ll end up with two versions of him. You’ll end up bringing back the jock, but becoming his twin.

It won’t be all bad. You’ll still be you, just a slightly altered version with more jockish characteristics and a new muscular body. The jock who you summoned will have changed a bit too, sharing some of your memories and traits. In a way you and him will end up like real twin brothers, each your own person but having a lot in common, like brothers do. If you go through with this I’m sure you’ll end up a hot jock with an equally hot brother who loves you dearly. It might not be what you were looking for but it’ll be a good life. Here’s just hoping I’m right.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Closeted Theories 

A.N: Was finishing up my other Neuvillette series and this one just dropped into my head. Mighta have something to do with the fact I finished the Neuvillette storyquest the other day and he’s still on the brain. That was an awesome quest!! Definitely one of my hallmark favorites!

Genshin Impact MasterList

------

Picture this scenario: 

You were currently locked in a storage room closet, in the Palais Mermonia with Monsieur Neuviellette by your side.

Got it in your head?

Hard to picture, wasn’t it? 

Yeah, it would have been hard for you too, only a scant five minutes ago. 

But right now, this is your reality. 

You heard a gaggle giggling on the other side of the door as it shut. You dimly heard the lock as well. Then the voice of Sedene spoke over it, “Don’t worry, we will relieve you in an hour!” 

Then you heard the giggling and paddling of feet retreat. You just blinked at the door for a bit before finally looking up at Monsieur Neuvillette. It was a rare sight to behold, actually. He had frozen like a statue as he stared blankly at the door in front of him. 

“Check back with me, when you processed this.” you stated, “This is a lot even for a human.”  

You looked around the store room which was filled with mostly documents and books. It was big enough for two people to fit just so and had a single light on the ceiling. Thinking back you weren’t sure how you managed to get in this predicament but before you could try to analyze it further, Neuvillette stirred. Ahh, looks like he was coming back this way. It only took about five minutes. 

“Ahh, Miss. Y/N, I’d like to apologize for them. I don’t know what they hope to accomplish by this but I promise they mean no ill will.”

“Of course not. Those little younguns couldn’t do ill will if they tried, mischievous on the other hand is another matter. Anyway, can’t you break down the door or something?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette held his chin in thought, “Yes, easily. Though I hate to destroy such workmanship. It’s hardly the doors fault….” 

You smack your lips together, “Well, unless a Hydro Dragon suddenly knows how to pick a lock, we don’t know exactly how long we will be here for. Besides, isn't this getting in the way of your business to attend to? 

“Sedene clearly said they’d be back in an hour. My next meeting is scheduled for then. I don’t have any pressing matters right now. However, I would usually be using this time to get ahead on paperwork.” 

“...Hm. So they planned this down to the letter. I mean can’t have the Chief Justice of Fontaine and its Iudex, missing important functions over….being locked in a closet, now can we?” 

Neuvillette shook his head, “No, sounds quite lucidious to say it out loud like that.”  

“Equally as ridiculous as our reality. However they should be lucky I’m not claustrophobic.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette swung his eyes around to you, “Claustrophobic?” 

“Yes, some humans will start panicking in a tight place. They begin to feel the wall closing in on them and such.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette eyes widened at this, “Truly?! I hadn’t realized. And you are alright? I’ll break down the door immediately!” 

You reached out a hand in front of him, “I said I was fine! I’m not claustrophobic, only mildly amused and mostly annoyed. The only thing I worry about is how dus…” You paused in the process of wiping a finger over a shelf, rubbing them together, “Not so much as a speck of dust. Most impeccable.” 

“Of course not. I have learned that if left unattended a room like this will begin to rot. To take care of that, we have those hired to routinely clean spaces like this.” 

“Nothing escapes you, does it?” 

“Except for this.” He let out a sigh, “Rest assured, I shall have to give them a stern talking too.” 

You head bobbed up and down once, as you managed to find a reasonably comfortable spot to lean on the wall. 

Silence floated for a while before Neuvillette finally heaved a deep sigh, “Try as I might, I cannot see the reason for this insipid affair. Whatever possessed them to attempt this thing?” 

You snorted once making lavender eyes lock with yours. When you didn’t say anything more Neuvillette asked, “Why do I feel like you have an idea? Can you not share it with me if that’s the case?” 

You looked away then, “It would only be a theory at this point. I’d hate to paint them with conjecture.” 

“Let us hear it anyway. We have nothing else to do, until then and besides I’d like a better picture of what is going on before I speak with them on this matter. Perhaps there are some critical clues I am missing.” 

“....” 

Neuvillette watched as you absently began to “arrange” the books on the shelf next to you, your eyes not meeting his. Meanwhile his lavender eyes did not depart from you.

A lull prolonged itself until…

“Miss. Y/N are you….embarrassed, perhaps?” 

You snapped your head up, “What the-?! What makes you say that?” 

“Well, you have…” 

“I don’t want to play by play.” You interrupted knowing that Neuvillette was going to literally tell you all the actions he observed to arrive at this conclusion. It was bad enough that he was looking at you the entire time in expectation and equally bad that there was only room between you for a person to barely slip through. 

You cleared your throat turning away, “Actually I was thinking about it and it might be kinda, slightly my fault.” 

“I hardly doubt that but what do you feel you have done?” 

“.....read….scene….idea….” 

“Excuse me? Could you speak up?” 

“I said….” You jerked your head up only to stop when you realized that Neuvillette had closed the distance between you and was looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Clearly he had gotten closer to hear you better but still. 

You swallowed, snatching your eyes away from him, “I read the Melusines a story a little while ago.” 

“Yes, that doesn’t sound so horrible. In fact, I thank you for taking time out of your day to spend with them.” 

“Yes, yes, you're welcome. It’s fine. It’s just….they may have taken a story a little too…..realistically.” 

“In what manner?” 

“It was a romance story. One scene…the couple was trapped in a storeroom, you know?” 

“I see. And what does this have to do with our predicament now?” 

You almost banged your head on the shelf. You did not want to explain it in detail. Most humans would pick up and put two and two together. However, given that Neuvilletter wasn’t human, you couldn’t and didn't expect him to have two and two much less know to put them together in this instance.  

You heave a sigh. That still didn’t mean you wanted to explain this. 

“...I’m sorry. This is making you uncomfortable. We should cease talking about this then.” 

You felt Neuvillette put as much space between you as he was able. Part of you was grateful. Being locked in a storeroom with Neuvillette of all people was doing nothing for your nerves although you pride yourself in comporting yourself regardless of the situation. You knew it really wasn’t fair to keep Neuvillette in the dark, especially when he genuinely did not have the pieces needed to put together the puzzle. 

“It’s a common plot device in romance stories. When a couple is locked in a confined room it’s used to further their relationship.” You said this in one breath not looking up. 

“....” 

You could practically hear the gears in Neuvillette’s head turning. 

“I see. They had hoped that our relationship would progress and that is why they did this.” 

You hoped your laugh wasn’t forced, “What relationship? We don’t have one. We are just friends.” 

“Yes, we are friends.” 

You bobbed your head absently and just when you were beginning to find your footing, you felt Neuvillette move. Looking up, you startled to see him looming over you.

Wait, why was he even closer than last time?

Your throat went dry. 

“Rest assured, I will still express my displeasure at such extreme methods but I shouldn't let their goodwill go to waste. I suppose they were getting tired of my lack of courage.” 

“.....W-w-what are you talking about?” 

Neuvillette lifted his arms and trapped you within, his hands holding onto the shelf in front of you.

Hold on! What is this situation?!

You were pretty sure that Monsieur Neuvillette had never read such a scene before so why was he an accomplished actor now?

You knew you were looking up at him like a trapped boar. 

“I think I finally understand what message they were trying to send. I suppose they were getting tired of me taking my time. Had I had my way, I would still be taking time. Although I have an abundance of time, the fact is you do not. It’s unfair of me to continue to make you wait.” 

By now your head and eyes were spinning. Why did it seem like this went from 0 to 100 real quick? You weren’t even following anymore. 

“Miss. Y/N, when this is over, will you accompany me to dinner at Hotel Debord? Ah, I suppose I should convey my feelings first, shouldn’t I? Forgive me, allow me a minute to gather my bearings.” 

You turned so your back was to the shelf, looking up at Neuvillette, “H-h-hold on! Aren’t you…? What are you even doing? We are friends…” Your eyes dart back and forth, “...aren’t we?” 

“Of course, I am loath to lose our friendship but I confess I find myself thinking about…deeper things when it comes to us.” 

“Y-y-you do?” 

Of course you always like Monsieur Neuvillette but you’d never in your wildest dreams thought that a friendship with him could turn into more. You were just happy that he trusted you enough to become friends with you. The two of you had met through the Traveler actually. And being a Descender yourself, you had become privy to the fact that he was the Hydro Dragon. As the Traveler moved on to other nations with the goal of finding their sibling you lingered in Fontaine finding the nation agreeing with you. Fontaine eventually became your home base even as you travel to other nations. Unlike the Traveler you had no lofty goals in mind. 

“I confess this is so. However perhaps I’ve been spending too much time pondering on the idea instead of acting on it. The Melusines must have picked up on my feelings.” 

Ah, now that might explain why the Melusines went through a period of forcing you to read just about every romance book they could come across. Was this all research to help Monsieur Neuvillette?  

Your previous annoyance at being locked in a storage room was quickly dwindling even from the little bit you had. You hoped that you hadn’t displayed any odd tendencies when Monsieur Neuvillette was concerned that the Melusines picked up on. You thought you had had an impenetrable shield. 

“They had urged me to at least talk to you about it but I had refused. I wanted to ponder this a little more and see if it had merit. However, although I have learned more about humans, the complexities of this kind of thing still perplexes me. Sedene did present to me a list of findings about your behavior that made me think that perhaps you might feel more on the subject than you let on.” 

You stiffened and replied in which you hoped with a coolness that belied your feelings, “Such as?” 

“You have brought me meals when unasked for.” 

“We are friends. I’m interested in your health and you are busy.  Thought I’d help out here and there. There is nothing untoward about that.” 

“You made some of them yourself.” 

“Again, friendship.” 

“I have no basis for such things. Perhaps friends do make each other meals. This was a thought I came to as well. Next, they have observed that when I leave, your gaze lingers.” 

Your right eyebrow twitched, “....I’m making sure you leave.” 

That sounded lame even to your ears but you challenged it by looking Neuvillette straight in the eye. You would not bend first. 

“....and they have heard you give a…and I quote, ‘an heartrending sigh.’” 

You would have spat at this and your face showed. You looked away folding your arms, “Denied!! What does a ‘heartrending sigh’ even sound like? I didn’t swoon like a maiden.” 

“So you admit that you did in fact sigh?” 

Your whole face twitched this time, “Denied! You need to do better than this! It’s all circumstantial at best!” 

“Very well then. I’m not sure I should reveal this but….apparently, there were some Melusines in earshot when you and Navia were having a private conversation. They heard Navia ask when you were quote “going to make your intentions known.” And your reply was, and I quote, “When a boar flies and all the water in Fontaine is set on fire.”” 

Given that they were Melusines, in earshot was probably a generous term. You couldn’t help but to slap both hands over your face. Everything within you wanted to deny it but you couldn't very well make a liar out of both the Melusines and Navia. 

Checkmate. 

“Not to worry, I did admonish them about listening to private conversations such as those.” 

“I should find the nearest volcano in Natlan and jump in it.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s eyes widened as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Don’t even joke about such things Y/N!” 

You still hadn’t raised your head. 

“Miss. Y/N, would it be wrong of us to try to see if our relationship can grow deeper?” 

Your voice was muffled by your hands, “Why, you want it to?” 

“Hm, I believe I would. You?” 

“....I’m amenable to it.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s mouth quirked, “I’m pleased to hear this. Won’t you look at me?” 

“Maybe after we get out of here.” 

Ahh, you were being shy about this. A chuckle escaped the Hydro Dragon. You reached one hand to slap him in the chest, “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, please be silent!” 

The chuckle turned into a laugh then. 

Then you felt him stepping away, “Very well. I know the benefits of having to gather oneself. We will have plenty of time to address this. Ah, what did you say to dinner?” 

You turned away from him, as you dropped your hands from your face, once again “arranging” the books.

A small smile made its way to your face as you replied softly, “Sure. I’ll be there.” 

[medpocarchive]

Hello, first time making a request here:)

But what if it's an au or something similar? the is reader is a frail ass human and med poc is taking care of them?(Childhood friends btw...hihihi)

Hihihi! I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting, I love writing MP. I had something similar to this written already because I write a lot for myself. SFW. Childhood friends to whatever this is. Kind of angsty. ~1000 words

Medpoc x sickly reader!

You have always been the frail one.

Being born with a body that was so frail wasn't easy. Every cold you got equaled about one week in the hospital. It always felt like it might be your last. You missed more school than you attended, and your body hurt in ways doctors couldn’t explain. Only with long words and pitiful expressions.

But you did have one friend.

Medicine Pocket, they never blinked at your IV lines, they also never wore matching socks. You two went to school together. They didn’t flinch when you coughed blood into your sleeve. They sometimes sat beside your hospital bed with half a jar of lollipops.

“You need something else in your system,” they once said when you two were young. “Normal things aren’t helping.” You didn't really want to listen to the person who told you they wanted to inject themself with jellyfish goo.

When you two were younger, they always brought you weird gifts when you were in the hospital. They never treated you like a patient. Just like any other friend. One time you remembered they gave you a kiss on the forehead while you were falling asleep, but it was so light it might’ve been a mistake.

Now, years later, you’re not in a hospital, just a normal bed. It still felt familiar. Your fever’s been bothering you all day, and you’re sweating through your third shirt of the day. The room spins.

“...You're burning again,” comes a soft voice.

Medicine Pocket is sitting on the floor next to your bed. But when did they even get here? You didn't hear them knock or open the door for them. You give them a small smile. "Did you break in?"

"Pfft, your landlord gave me a key! She said I show up more than the mail."

They made you laugh, which was nice until it turned into coughing. They don’t panic. They never do. You felt them put something cold on your forehead.

"Oh, right, I came up with the best way to improve your medicine last night. All I had to do was add some frog saliva." A mischevious grin followed that line.

“Try this,” they say, holding out a shot glass of something vaguely blue. “Tastes like trash, and blueberries. Also.. you may start having hallucinogenic side effects. Could be fun.” They put it to your lips.

You drank it. You’ve learned not to ask questions. Everything they give you is wild, borderline unsafe, but it always helps.

Later on, when the room has cooled, after a nap, you wake to a strange silence.

You think they’ve left. Usually it’s always loud and chaotic when they’re around. But not now.

They’re curled up at the edge of your bed, just like a dog next to their owner. Head resting against your leg. Their face is turned away from you, tucked into their arm. And they look exhausted. You don't see them like that often.

Their normally wild hair is damp with sweat. Their gloved hands twitch in small, dreaming motions. There are scribbled notes still clutched between their fingers.

You reach out slowly, and rest your hand against them. Their eyes don’t open, but they shift closer, as if drawn to your warmth.

A quiet murmur escapes them.

You fall asleep with their weight pressed gently against you.

…

It's a few hours into the next morning. You've made some tea. The tea is almost warm now, but your hands won’t stop shaking long enough to bring it to your mouth without spilling.

You try it anyway.

The ceramic cup accidentally tilts in your hands, sending a hot splash across your knuckles. You curse softly, hiss through your teeth, and grab a nearby towel with trembling fingers.

From across the cluttered room, Medicine Pocket’s head lifts like a dog spotting danger. Only in this case, the danger is just you attempting autonomy.

They materialize beside you before you’ve even finished blotting your hand, peering at your flushed face and dripping sleeve.

“Did you just burn yourself with my tea?” they ask, almost offended.

You glare at them. “I made it.”

They blink. “Oh. Then this is a tragedy you have brought upon yourself!”

You want to laugh, but you’re too tired. Your muscles ache, your fingers twitch which you can’t control, and now your hands smell like medicine.

Medicine Pocket lifts the mug from your hand as if rescuing a wounded animal.

They sniff it. Sip it. Pause.

“This is… bad,” they say solemnly. “It tastes like shame.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I know, leave it. I was trying to do something myself today.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the clink of the cup being set aside, a shuffle of their coat, and then something plastic slides into view.

A pink bendy straw. You just stare at it.

They smile, mischievous and lopsided. “Solution: you sip, I hold. Perfect division.”

“I am not drinking through-”

“You are,” they interrupt, gently but firmly. “Your hands are being little jerks. My hands are fine. Let me do the holding. You do the sipping. It’s teamwork! Like when we opened that pickle jar.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m always serious,” they say, sticking the straw in the mug. “About the things that matter.”

And somehow, without quite agreeing, you find yourself leaning forward while they lift the cup with the straw angled toward your mouth. You take a cautious sip.

It’s still terrible.

Somehow it feels better though.

Maybe it’s the fact that their hand is steady where yours isn’t. Or it’s the fact that they don’t look at you with pity. Like this is just another strange little thing you two do, no weirder than arguing about whether pinecones have medicinal value.

They hold the mug until you’ve had enough. Only then they set it down.

“What now?” you ask wearily.

“Next time I’ll make the tea,” they say, grinning like they haven’t slept in days. You’re still tired, but you smile back.

[twstfanblog]

YO WHAT HAPPENS NEXT WITH THE BOYS IN THE MANHUA AU????

Bsjsjsjsjsj THIS GONNA BE SO LONG AGAIN BECAUSE THE SET UP GUYS!!!!

Ok starting out, the trio of Malleus, Azul, and Jamil HATE Yuu. They think she's the most annoying thing their parents/guardians ever put in their line of view and hate they keep putting her there.

Malleus’s father was Crowley's adopted brother (which is how he gained the status to marry Meleanor and how Crowley gained his arch duke status). Crowley's catch is that he wanted a deal that his family and royal family were to always be close. A promise that Lilia keeps after his friends die by making Yuu Malleus’s playmate.

And Malleus is...a fucking brat, raised being told he was going to be the strongest in the land and how he could have anything he wanted. It kinda inflated his little ego though Lilia tried to keep it at a decent size. But then to be presented a magicless human girl and told she was his EQUAL he kinda pitched a bitch fit and has been until Yuu just...stops talking to him.

Yuu is invited to Malleus's birthday ball every year, so Lilia is freaked out when a maid tells him that Yuu rejected the invite and didn't even plan on sending a gift in her place. Crewel tries to save face by claiming Yuu is sick. Malleus is happy because he thinks the party would be much better with no Yuu. Instead, he stands alone for basically the whole night because he never realized that Yuu was the only one who would happily come up to him, not an ounce of fear in her. He misses it...He hopes Yuu will feel better soon...

Azul comes from a marquess family that Crewel was very close to before his marriage to Crowley. So that's another playmate for Yuu! Azul completely thinks Yuu is bullying him and mocking him when she remarks how cute his chubby cheeks are. The other kids at banquets don't come near them but Azul can see out of the corner of his eye that they laugh at them. So when Yuu refuses to come with Crewel to this fancy dinner party, Azul thinks this is his chance to FINALLY establish himself with the other noble children.

Instead, Azul finds out that Yuu was the only reason the other children weren't bullying him, they liked her better than him and the fact she isn't there is basically saying she finally dropped the 'dead weight'. Azul spends the whole party actually being mocked and not teasingly cooed over, he hides behind his mom while she pleads for Crewel to bring Yuu to the next party, wondering if Yuu really was keeping him safe from the other kids.

Jamil hated Yuu purely because he kept getting in trouble. Kalim is the child of a duke family and he adored Yuu as his playmate. Because she liked Jamil! He had started to realize that Jamil was pulling away from him, coming to understand the true meaning of his role in Kalim's life. So Kalim thinks it's great that Yuu spends their playdates mostly trying to get Jamil to play with them, he misses playing with Jamil!

Jamil is PISSED, because after every play date he gets scolded for taking too much of Yuu's attention and told to act accordingly next playdate. He's openly cold to Yuu even though she's much higher in social status than him, he just wants her to leave him ALONE. But then, Kalim is nervous before a playdate. He's been hearing rumors about how Yuu is ill and doesn't want to leave her family's home more and more these days. But maybe a day with him and Jamil will be enough to brighten her spirits!

Yuu spends the entire playdate not even looking at Jamil let alone talking to him, he might as well be a smear on the wall. She's even withdrawn from Kalim, very quiet and not up for playing any of their normal games. When Yuu has gone home, Jamil goes to his room and just CRIES. He never realized just how much Yuu SEEING meant to him. He found her clinginess to be annoying, she talked too much, she couldn't just focus on Kalim like every other rich kid whose family tried to cozy up to the Asims. But now...going an entire day with her not even looking at him...it hurts...

So yeah! When Yuu comes back to life she's basically heartbroken that her crushes and the men who she considered to be her best friends didn't even try to help her while she died. If they hate her so much, then fine, she gives up she won't talk to them anymore...But now she's sad and alone, she had three 'friends' and now she has no friends. so She just stays alone in the family home while her dads worry and try their best to brighten her days and keep her socialized.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 3

Prompt: Hate Sex Pairing: Designer!Hyunjin x femCoder!Reader WC: 2260 Summary: Hyunjin wants one thing from you, stop calling him “pretty boy”, he can’t help he was born beautiful. This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Hyunjin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy. TW/CW under the cut.

Warnings: reader implied/is a bully, older reader (age gap not specified), name calling (”slut”, “dumbass”, “asshole”, creative insults around genitalia, gendered/misogynist insults), crying during (reader), PWOP, cum in mouth, unprotected intercourse. I’m also going to call out, sort of dubcon-y as most hate sex is.

 Pretty boy was not a compliment when you said it. Always laced with venom or a sneer. It was as though you’d branded Hyunjin as worthless with two words. Only good as a person to look at. Objectified and demeaned. Even he couldn’t deny that he was in fact a very pretty man. Long brown hair, full pouty lips, deep irises, with a slender yet muscular frame. Not exactly effeminate but not exactly masculine. A beautiful human no matter how you slice it. Which is why your nickname angered him so much.

 It wasn’t easy for you either. Years in the tech field had hardened you. It was a man’s world and you were used to the bro code that had been instilled in you from the early days of voice chat. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, bully or become the bullied. The tech sector was the same.

 Hyunjin wasn’t even in your cohort but you hated him from the moment you saw him. Fresh intern class filing into the large hall for their orientation. You’d hoped that he’d get eaten alive, the soft sensitive looking man thrown unceremoniously into the pool of piranhas. Instead he was gifted to the design department, a soft job for a soft kid. What was worse was his lack of coding knowledge, mostly having worked in print materials the world of internet and tech was foreign and frustrating. Worse still was that despite this he was good at his job, rising through the ranks to be your equal, forcing the two of you into the same project groups quarter after quarter. Any rank you could pull, you did, age included, and he seemed to take it.

 He hadn’t meant to follow you into the windowless supply closet. It just so happened both departments were in dire need of different items. Somehow you’d been conscripted into packaging fancy boxes for capital contributors and design had sent a large order to the floor’s printer with no paper nor ink to spare. The door opening startled you, locking eyes with him as you stare at each other for once devoid of the low boiling slurry of distaste and distrust. Quickly the moment snaps.  Returning to the status quo you sigh, “oh, just you, pretty boy.”  “Stop calling me pretty boy.” Hyunjin states simply. He doesn’t want to make it a huge fight, trying to assume only your best intentions. Part of him figured this would be the only private moment he’d ever have with you, so might as well make use of it.  “Why? It’s true.” You shrug, busy peering in drawers and boxes for your extra packaging supplies. “You’re a very pretty man who is younger than me. A boy. A pretty boy.”  “It’s dismissive. I’m more than that,” the tension strains his voice. “You know I’m more than that. I put in work, effort. I have a passion. Just because I can’t translate it to whatever arcane language you use doesn’t-”  “Listen pretty boy,” you stand up and sneer at him, eyes locked and narrowed. “If I could afford to be as lacking as you, I would. The world has taught you that all you need to do is the bare fucking minimum and doing anything more is considered a large effort. So, pretty boy, count your blessings if I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”  Hyunjin sucks his teeth, a snort of disbelief escaping. “The only people who have ever called me pretty have either wanted to fuck me or be fucked by me so which one is it for you?” His eyes narrow and study you as he steps closer. Your pulse quickens, blood roiling. How dare this brat? How dare he challenge you.  “Neither,” you answer him with daggers in your eyes.  His lips twitch at the corners. “Are you sure about that? You’re barely breathing right now. I wonder if I stepped closer,” his voice trails off. “Or maybe brushed against you, by accident of course.”  “Even HR couldn’t mediate the amount of lawsuits I’d hit you with.” He’s right. You hold your breath as he gets even closer, just staring. You start to dodge around his side but his body blocks yours, shoulder sinking into his chest as he backs you against the shelves, forcing you to tilt your chin to look up at his face. The way your body so quickly betrayed you was concerning to all the ideals you’d upheld for years, tingling and burning endorphins flooding you with dizzying speed.

 Slowly he leans his torso forward almost nose to nose, hands holding onto the shelf and caging you in. “Bet you’ve just been waiting for someone to do this to you, slut.”  The sting comes before the sound, your hand crossing his cheek as swiftly as the word leaves his mouth. “Call me a slut again.”  “Slut.” He hisses, leaning into you. There isn’t quite the surprise to dull the pain of the hit this time, his body is ready for it as you wind up and slap him again. He half smiles, half smirks, tongue bit between his teeth.  “Fuck that’s hot,” your tone is hushed, almost reverent, a revelation as more for yourself than for him. Your lips and tongue clash and fight for dominance as he claims your mouth with his. It’s more a battle than a kiss, both of you unwilling to break first, chasing the other, gasping and groping like teenagers at each other's bodies.  He finally breaks, lips pink and puffy and shining with saliva. The clink of the metal buckle of his belt has you practically dripping. Forcefully he spins you and shoves you, face into the roughly coated cinder block wall.  “Gonna fuck you like the bitch you are.” He mutters, plosives laced with venom. You moan pathetically as his arm presses to your mid back.  “Give it your best shot pretty boy, this making your micropeen hard? Can’t get laid so you have to fight your way into a quick fuck?”  Hyunjin laughs, cackles, harshly grabbing your ass. “Could ask the same for you. Truly I can’t imagine anyone wanting to stick their dick anywhere near your cobweb cunt. Should I check? Should I check to see?”  “Go ahead dumbass, if you can even find it.” You hiss. “All talk no-”  A rip of your stockings and cool air hitting your soaked panties halts the verbal sparring match. Pushing your panties aside he sinks a finger into your hot core, gasping together. “Who’s all talk now? So soaked I slipped right in. Dumb needy hole trying to milk my finger. Gonna thaw you out ice princess.”  You hope he does. Dragging your torso down the wall, your back arches into him, pushing his single digit deeper, wiggling your hips. The swish of his pants crumpling to the floor  “I’m waiting, pretty boy, or is it already in and I just can’t feel it?” Your negging continues, heart fluttering in anticipation. Everything he does is just out of your range of vision, you have no idea what to expect. Even in your heavy petting you hadn’t grabbed for him.  Finger withdrawn he drags the head of his cock along your slit. Hyunjin knows what he’s about to do is mean, he’s felt how tight you are. For a second he considers properly prepping you, stretching you out nicely before abusing your hole. Poised at your entrance he grabs a fistful of hair at the nape of your neck, lips pressing to the shell of your ear. “Ready princess?”  “On you pretty boy,” you sneer in response.  The blunt pressure of his thick member ripping through your walls twists your stomach. Filling you in a single push, Hyunjin muffles your scream with his lips. It steals your breath as your body fights the intrusion. Your legs alternate kicking and shaking below you, suddenly happy to have Hyunjin’s weight pinning you up to the wall.

 “Dumb slut, do you want to get caught? Screaming like that you’ll let the whole company know you’re bending over like a bitch for me.” Hyunjin chides, holding still inside you. His harsh words soothed by his hands, gingerly fixing your hair to the opposite shoulder. Arms wrapping around your chest and waist he holds you close, face buried in your neck.  “Big right?” The soft words are muffled by your skin.  “Mhmphf.”  His teeth run over sensitive spots along your neck, sending you shivering and shuddering in his grasp. “Good right?”  “Yeeehsthhh!” You lisp and writhe.  “Embarrassing right? Getting run through by some kid like me. Gonna slut you out princess.”  Turning your head so you are nose to nose you growl, “shut up and fuck me, pretty boy.”  Hearing his nickname he laughs, blood boiling a bit harder, and unceremoniously pulls out. A pitiful whine escapes your lips with the loss of pressure in your gut. Before you can scold him again he pushes all the way to the hilt again, hearing the air catching in your throat from words lost to pleasure. Each thrust is slow and torturous, felt to the fullest by your walls hugging him in. Despite not working hard you pant like a cat in heat, overwhelmed by the ache of your cunt.  “Afraid you’re gonna cum first?” You jab between groans, frustration clouding your senses. He’s just too slow to build past the agonizing beginnings of your orgasm.  “‘M being kind, can’t have you passing out on me.”  “Bold of you.”  Sucking a small bruise into your neck he buries himself deeply inside of you. “If you insist.”  Instead of withdrawing again his hand skims down your belly to your mound, long thin fingers circling your clit. Each passing swipe coordinates with a shallow thrust, just enough to stimulate you inside and out. All you can do is take what he is giving you, body giving up to his ministrations.  “Shit I think-” you gasp and shake, “I’m gonna cum.”  “I bet you are.” Hyunjin sneers, “and who is to thank for that?”  “You. You are. You.” You burble.  “Who?” His grasp harshens, hips snapping harder.  “HYUNJIN. Fucking asshole. You. Hyunjin. Fuck.” You cum violently around him, walls of your sex baring down on him as a fresh wave of arousal coats the both of you. You cry out, fat tears welling in your eyes as overstimulation hits you like a train, moans turning to choked sobs as you try to catch your breath.  Both of you are sweaty, you shake. Hyunjin maneuvers the both of you to your knees on the ground, your body leaving a shine to the wall where it was pressed. He pulls his slacks under your arms to cushion what they could from the cement. “I made you cum, your turn.”  “Wha?”  His hand comes down hard on your ass, snapping you out of your lusty haze. “Fuck yourself on my cock.” The demanding and demeaning tone has your blood rushing even in your sensitive state. With a sniffle you start moving your hips back and forth, each slide making a grotesque sloppy slick sound. Hyunjin pushes back his sweat and hair from his brow, eyes locked to where he disappears inside of you. “Cunt looks good hugging my cock like this.”  If he’s all about visuals, you’ll be a feast for his eyes. You gorge yourself on him, taking your time like he did to you. Rolling your hips decadently and letting your greedy pussy work itself around him. Hyunjin tries to keep his hands from you, to make you do the work, to take a small petty revenge for the multitude of emails politely thrown back to him by you. He can’t, finally folding, grabbing fistfulls of ass and hips and thighs. He joins you, bent over and caging you again like an animal. Together, writhing as one, grunting as one, your chemistry has never worked better. But it can’t last forever, you can feel his thick muscle seizing inside of you, lower abs and thighs tensing against the cleft of your ass.  “Where,” chokes in a stuttered hurried whisper. “I’m gonna-”  Summoning strength you push up, righting the both of you, pulling him out. It’s the first good luck you’ve gotten of him, flushed red and sweaty and fucked out. He’s impressive for a skinny guy, thick and veiny and heavy in your hands as you continue to stroke him out of habit. Fingers covered in slick release precum flows freely from the tip. “Mouth. Hurry.”  Standing shakily he leans back into the wall, “gonna swallow like a good slut?” Holding the head of his dick to your tongue he pumps pointed down your throat. Your tongue flexes against the underside, massaging the ridge. Hyunjin can’t believe his eyes, you kneeling in front of him, defiantly staring him down as you wait for him to cum. Almost daring him to spill his load anywhere else. With an airy whine a globule of release hits your tongue, hot and bitter. Hyunjin’s hips kick forward, fucking his palm and the top of your tongue, pushing his cum deeper into your throat and making you gag. “Shit,” he hisses as you gag again, another string shooting directly into your throat. Palm to his hip you slide his cock further back, using it to force the bitter seed into your stomach. “Holy shit you’re really-god your throat-that-keep that.”  Gulping the last down you pull from him grimacing and wiping your face. “Two words; pineapple juice, pretty boy.”  “That’s four.”

I always get carried away lmao. This is definitely towards the rougher end of my comfort zone with characters. I can’t help be aware of the fact that some people do take fanfic as a guide to what to expect or hope for with their relationships so it’s a little difficult for me to push that to the back of my mind.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Your genuinely one of my favorite elden ring artists, what would you say is your favorite aspect of elden ring just in general

this might be a big revelation but i think my favourite part about Elden Ring is i... actually don't really like it until the DLC.

the way the base game presented a kinda basic and fragmented story, one i'd even say i were underwhelmed about. because i went in expecting Sekiro-level of character driven writing (they did promise that in an interview) and what i got... ehhhh. that's why my fanarts for the base game is literally just fluff pieces and shipping Malenia with another character altogether that isn't even in the game. meanwhile my AC6, Sekiro and Bloodborne art... i think you can tell i have a very deep emotional connection to those games from the kind of work im putting out for them. (hell, before the DLC i actually was thinking "well i'll probably only draw some general fanarts after the DLC then go back to draw more JJK stuffs lol" famous last words)

but holy mother of God the way the DLC completely blew everything tf up.

sorry Fromsoftware, i were not aware the Sekiro character-driven part is actually about the DLC. im sorry im still not familiar with your game yet ����

(this turns into a mini rant so imma put it under cut OTL)

before, i were pretty "...." about Elden Ring female cast. i think Melina appears too little, i think NPCs like Fia and Roderika... i can't figure out the significance of them within the narrative at all. and it kinda upset me because it feels like they regress back to the helpless / fanservice maiden trope that was usually seen in DS franchise for no reason. i don't like how Rennala ends up as and i don't like not knowing why Radagon did that to her (which turns to me not liking the way it became a popular fanon that he actually loved her he was just bound by duty etc etc...i mean what?), i actually don't even really like how Malenia's barely-there story turns out (but that's a rant for another day).

as standalone characters, sure, i'd say they all have their own merits, but if they don't play any role within the narrative... what's the point then?

but all of that is because back then, we literally did not know what's Marika's deal either.

and so she became this cardboard that everyone pins all the crimes and bad things in the world on, which is... fine? makes sense. but the following line of reasoning that she did all that because she's just...like that drives me up the wall. if i want another "woman bad" story i'd just replay DS2 😭

and that line of thought also distance her from other characters in the game. those stories are not lining up, so we literally see no point in anything.

but by giving us Marika's story in the DLC they:

shine light on the possible division between two Numen factions (Anna & Jolan story + Sword of Light & Darkness // no one is left in Marika's home (those embraces Light/Gold/ Greater Will and its Stars children) vs the Numens in Eternal City (those embraces Dark/ Black Moon/ opposing GW and its children)

the discontent with the Moon and how there are those who will never accept it as being equal to the Stars

the other half situation

the Marika's eye colour possible reveal (link her to Roderika - Roderika as a reflection of the maiden Marika once was and probably still is deep down)

give Godwyn more agency in his ending (his personal knights are on a quest for Age of Duskborn) -> link Marika to Fia (Fia as a reflection of the mother Marika is)

draw direct parallel between Messmer - the child carrying Marika's vengeance for the past, to Melina - the child carrying Marika's hope for the future

Marika as a God full of human flaws >< Miquella as a God devoid of all human emotions. both are bad in different ways. but share a same gentle origin of a simple wish for a kinder world.

the DLC singlehandedly swipes clean every problem i have with the base game. like im actually in awe they managed to do that so efficiently 😭

all that is to say. my favourite aspect of all is truly how one's perspective of this one character could alter the entire story.

i still dislike the interpretation that Marika is cold and heartless or that's she's cruel for no reason, but at the same time, i can see how ppl viewing her that way affect how they see other events in the game. just like how my view of her changes my entire view of the story itself too. and i just love how the writers pull that off really skillfully. man. and i think that's sth so unique to videogame storytelling. it's amazing!

[sugudoe]

have you ever considered jjk men (maybe.. maybe toji...) and a reader who seems so strong very brave not scared of curses takes everything in stride what have you. but absolutely just crumples at thunderstorms 😭

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: mention of blood and reader being a kiIIler ╱ anxiety attack

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hope you like this, i know it was supposed to be cute, but i got carried away. also, this reader had an encounter with reader from “on my way”, you can read if you want, but there is a basic explanation about what happened.

Your line of work had stained your bones and soul a long time ago, hardened your expressions and emotions. You don’t get to smile when you took someones life, is a constant thought you have.

Weakness, as a hitman, is equally tainted by the blood you take. As any human being — even if you may act more like a predator or beast sometimes — you have some of your own, hidden away from prying eyes and, as of recently, your boyfriend Toji.

Relationships aren’t supposed to have secrets, but one or two won’t hurt him, specially as pathetic as this, you think.

But still, those tangled nots you made on the door that unlocks your sensitive part, all untie at Toji’s house — it takes thunder in the sky and lighting on the floor, all followed by a blackout.

You had been in the shower, scrubbing away all the blood from a disgusting mission, the red liquid sticking to your skin, soaking up to your interior, but you held your head higher, pretending it was nothing.

Of course, the moment the house shook with the lightning, you had no reaction but to scream. Stupid, isn’t it? The fear of blades and curses and even jujutsu sorceress is not enough to cause a reaction out of you, it barely changes your heart palpitations. There is a need of more fingers to count how many of those have you fought and won. But, there is always light at the darkness absorbing you. Light as in the one that falls from the sky and strikes at you, the perfect pattern of scars along your back, a reminder — long ago, one sorcerer could summon those, and you survived by miracle, by mercy.

Toji never noticed those scars before, your intimate life was always rushed by the return to a mission, lights out and the focus solely on the feelings. Now, though, he sees them. When he crashes his door down, a long silver sword in hand, frantic eyes shinning in the dark, and turning into frightened and curious, that’s when the energy comes back — when you are bare and scared, in your most unprotected moment. Fat tears rolling on your face, you avoid his, while you reach the towel and put over your body. You leave the bathroom and your stunned boyfriend behind.

Save yourself some grace and morality, your reputation and maybe dignity, you put Toji’s shirt and shorts and fall on his cold bed, trembling under the covers with the crescent sound of thunder up in the clouds.

Could mercy be revoked by the one that hurt you? She could be up there, in the clouds, looking for you. That’s a constant thought you have had since that terrible day, the fear that with the storms might come your prey that turned predator.

You flinch when Toji’s large arms cradle you into his chest. He is silent, except for his unhinged breathing, much like yours, when his hands move under your shirt, cold fingers softly touching your thick scars — the perfect copy of what had hit you that day, sometimes, the pain comes back and it’s a constant memoir of what you felt. Today, with his caress, you don’t feel much. You don’t feel anything, except for the tears still escaping and the burning on your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “you’re not supposed to see me like this.” weak, you add in your head.

“If not me, then who?” Toji asks, moving you so you can face him, and not your back. “You’re not weak, whatever happened, you survived, don’t think I could. I can’t barely handle tasers.” He cleans the tears from your cheeks, soon, replacing his finger with his lips in multiple soft kisses.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than angry clouds.” You whisper.

“You are.” he moves back to search for something in your eyes, maybe he found them, because a small smile forms on his face. “Yeah, stronger than clouds, than your scars, than your fears. I see you, and I see someone powerful.”

“I’m supposed to be like you,” you keep trying to make him understand you, how weak you are, “fearless.”

“What makes you think I’m not scared of anything?” Toji cocks and eyebrow before snickering. “I believe my strength comes from luck, and I’m afraid one day this luck will wash out down the drain some day.”

“Like blood?” you ask, he nods.

“Like blood, from my enemies, mine. Maybe one day I’ll find out.”

“I hope you never do.” You raise your head, chin resting on his breast. “I hope you stay for a long time, keep being this lucky bastard who fights anyone with ease. And I hope you stay to comfort me.”

“In all the storms there is, be in the sky, or in your head. I’ll be there.”

Toji kisses you, hugging your body and, you could guess, your soul. Your broken and ugly devastated soul, he loves it with care and no prejudice. In his arms, there is no lightning that can reach you, no thoughts of being hunted — who would come your way with him protecting you?

[dameronology]

be still (matt murdock)

summary: matt is the only one who he'll let get close when he has a bad day

warnings: just language ig

sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for months and not writing a single thing. this might be my comback, or all you will get for another year. we'll see! love u all.

To the rest of the world, Matt Murdock was hard to read.

To you, he was like your favourite book. One you’d read a thousand times; with a plot line you knew like the back of your hand. Every bump on his skin; every raised scar and jagged red wound from his night shifts; you knew the story behind them all. The long pink line on his back was fall out from a fight with the Yakuza two years back. The deep, sunken jag on his right hand was from an unfortunate incident when he was chopping up some vegetables two years ago. I might have super senses, he’d joked, but there are some things you just need sight for.

Matt’s emotions were no different. There were days when even Foggy wasn’t sure what he was thinking – whether his stony face was from boredom or anger, or whether his smile was happiness or just a slightly misshapen grimace. With a life as complicated as his, it wasn’t surprising that Matt came with the feeling to match. In the early days of your relationship, it was something you’d struggled with, but now you knew his signals and his tells. You could see a bad mood coming from a mile off, almost like a thunderstorm on a summer day. Equally, you knew his good moods from the way he would greet you brightly in the morning, or his anxious ones from the way he held your hand. They weren’t always easy to forecast but at least it made things a little more predictable.

A cold Tuesday morning in the fall was no different. September had just come, bringing with it shorter days and colder nights. The tension in your bedroom was high from the moment you woke up – actually, it had been since the small hours of the morning. Matt had come crashing in without a word, gear ditched to the floor. Any questions of his wellbeing or how his night had been ignored as he passed out beside you, back turned the other way. His snores had been the first thing you’d heard from him that night – not a single word, not even a grunt. You could feel an invisible line down the middle of the bed. It wasn’t one you wanted to cross.

You woke up naturally with the daylight- perks of it being a Sunday, you figured (though not a silver lining. Today didn’t feel like a day to be looking for those). Matt was still, tired body heaving with deep breaths as he slept. It was hard to shake the feeling of anxiety that had snuck its way into your stomach; butterflies now felt like wasps and any previous inclination you’d had to reach out to him had died with the hope of him waking up before you and apologising.

“Dickhead,” you muttered.

(You knew he would hear you).

Still, you knew something was up. Even if he’d projected it onto you by swatting your hands away last night and completely blanking you, something was up. It took a moment of building up the courage in your head, but as Matt let out a yawn and rolled over, you quickly moved to snuggle into his side. His hands were on his front, so you made a second attempt to tangle your fingers with his. He didn’t comply, but he didn’t resist either. You stayed like that for a moment, until his dark eyes shot open, and he let out a heavy sigh.

You could have pretended to still be asleep, purely just to avoid dealing with the situation, but who were you fooling? The man was like a human sonar. He would know immediately from your breathing that you were awake. Plus, your not-so-quiet insult just moments earlier didn’t exactly align with something you could brush off as sleep talk.

Matt sat up, blinking for a moment. Any other morning, he would have pulled you into him; pressed a kiss to your forehead and held you tight. Not today, though. He snatched his hand away from yours and shrugged you off, pattering across the wooden floor out the bedroom and to the bathroom. The door slammed and a second later, you heard the spattering of the shower.

You stayed there for a second, heart thumping in your chest and heard swirling with thoughts. Why was he being shitty? Was it your fault? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t fair on you to jump to those conclusions. If he had a problem, it was on him to tell you. You’d made it clear from day one that you hated guessing games. Guess Who was one thing but Guess Why I’m Angry At You had no winners.

The water eventually stopped. Rather than coming back through to the bedroom as he normally would, there was silence. You frowned for a moment – what the fuck was he doing? Was he actually that intent on avoiding you?

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, swinging your legs out of bed and heading out of the bedroom. Matt was the first thing you saw in the living room, skin still covered in droplets of water from the sofa, butt fuck naked. He had a file open in front of him, callous fingers following over the braille as he read it, barely pausing to acknowledge your presence. You could have made a comment about him getting your thousand-dollar sofa wet, even a joke, but that didn’t feel like the right play.

“Hey,” you said.

No answer.

“I have to ask,” you continued, crossing the room and taking a seat beside him. Not close enough for your legs to be touching, but close enough that he knew you were there. “Have I done something?”

“No,” he murmured. “I’m just tired.”

His voice was barely above a whisper – barely even there. Something was seriously wrong.

“Okay,” you hummed.

You stayed like that for a moment – even though you could predict Matt’s mood, you couldn’t always predict what he wanted. If you touched him, would he flinch, or would the front come down? It was like hugging a nuclear bomb, even if the idea of his temper coming out on you was unfathomable.

“Do you want a coffee?” you gently asked.

Another pause.

“Yeah. I could do with a coffee.”

Trying to keep your nerves feigned, you crossed the room to the kitchen, hands working automatically. Kettle filled, turned on, two mugs out. One sugar and a tiny bit of milk for Matt, and then two sugars and no milk for you. He liked the blue mug, because it was easier to hold, and you preferred the purple one because it was the same shade of violet as the dress Taylor wore on the front of Speak Now. You’d brought it in a clearance sale when you and Matt just started seeing each other, and it was one of the first things you actually kept at his apartment.

You returned to the sofa, placing the coffee on the table in front of you. There was still no word from Matthew – not even a hm in place of a thank you.

“You’re worrying me,” you murmured.

Blanked.

Rolling your eyes – and finally getting sick of his head – you whacked the file out his hands and collapsed into his side. He didn’t immediately respond, but a moment later, his hand came down to touch your thigh. He gave your leg a squeeze, and you felt a minute bit of tension rise from the room. Not all of it, but the physical touch was enough to know that things would be okay.

You stayed like that for a moment, before wrapping your arms around him completely. You fell back into the sofa, letting Matt collapse into your chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, skin sticking to yours from where he was still drying, but you didn’t give a shit. You just wanted to hold him, hands roaming over his tense back, stopping on his shoulder blades and using your grip to pull him closer.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you said. “Just for a little while.”

He didn’t resist as you took his hand, tangling your fingers together and leading him back to the bedroom. Matt was hot on your heels, like a lost puppy now, and there was barely a second between you falling back first onto the bed and him following you. His entire body was on yours, legs tangling into a web and arms digging underneath your torso to hug you, head buried in your shoulder. He was limp – almost completely void of emotion.

Whatever barrier Matt had been putting up was gone, because as soon as you tangled a hand in his hair you could feel his hot tears on your skin. He’d only cried in front of you once before and that had been when you’d nearly died after a minor mishap (though he’d argue it was probably more). That meant that whatever had happened on patrol last night must have fucked him up a little – you didn’t want to ask, but you didn’t want to him to think he couldn’t talk about it.

“I’m here if you need,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you just wanna lay here or you just wanna talk, I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” his voice was still quiet. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shook your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

You tightened your grip on him and he tried to shuffle closer, even though it wasn’t physically possible. You were completely skin to skin and chest to chest, his forehead flush with your collarbone. It was raining outside now, the sound of water hitting the window filling the room with where tension used to be. That was gone now – maybe it hadn’t been there at all, just a figment of your anxiety.

You felt Matt’s eyelashes brush against your skin as he closed your eyes. Sleep was good. It was probably what you both needed, and with his warm, heavy body on yours, it was also hard to resist.

(All you could do was hope that you didn’t need to pee any time soon).

[acesgarden]

Hi handsome! I saw that you have your requests open so I thought I would ask if that's okay.

Could you maybe do some (bayverse) Donatello x reader? Something fluffy, possibly a friends to lovers confession scenario (I'm a sucker for those).

If not that's totally fine, either way, make sure to take good care of yourself and stay safe! Love ya <3

Hiiii 🤭 Oh do I loveeeeee friends to lovers ( but not as much as rivals to lovers.) This shit is so cute though 🙏. Came up with smth shorter for this so I hope you don’t mind. Also I love Donnie, I love all the turtle boys equally but he is a favorite. Anyway take of yourself too Anon. 🫵

Just Friends..?

Type ->

Imagine

Pairing ->

Bayverse!Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings ->

N/A

Summary ->

You fell in love with a giant turtle mutant and now you are gonna confess. Little did you know that big turtle doofus did too. Well ain’t that something.

692 Words | Masterlist

It's been about a year since you met Donnie. And it was not in some great heroic way. No, you two stumbled upon each other on a rooftop. Bonding over your love for technology and the internet. You still don’t know if fate was genuinely toying with you that day.. but you won’t complain, you wouldn’t have had meeting Donnie or the friendship you both had any other way.

Yet, this needed to be perfect.

Donnie met you on a rooftop just a year ago. He’d been observing you, humans were still rather strange to him. But he had “accidentally” made his presence known and well that was that. Bonding over technology and the internet with the human he did know he’d grow to love.

Now with the chance to confess, he needed it to be perfect.

So what’s more perfect than confessing on the same rooftop they met at. Picnic style, red and white blanket and everything: a basket, food, utensils, etc. A thing you both hadn’t known was you both had been coming there over the week cleaning up the rooftop. No wonder it was so clean so soon!

Now you're pacing the rooftop, he should be here ten soon. And he might run a bit late, he could get caught up in something or he might have trouble finding his way here. He wouldn’t just not come, you know that.

You just sat and checked the time, waiting. Lost in thoughts till a thump from behind spooked you. Right on time, a big old haha at your brain trying to make you overthink this.

A small smile sent his way inviting him over, and a smile from him right back accepting it. Now you both sat together, in silence but a comfortable one.

“It’s a lovely day,” he started.

“It is.. just like you.” You whispered, a silence followed, “as a friend! You're a very lovely friend.” You add after a few seconds. Nice save me haha..ha. He looked at you curiously, like you’d become his next big tech to figure out age understand—not that you weren’t already—your eyes meet his.

“You're lovely too.” Both smiling, that turned into flushed faces who looked back in front of them at the sky.

“You-”

“I-”

A pause

“I think you should go first-”

“You should go first-”

Another pause but you speak first, “you hungry?” Pulling out food and plates, and utensils to use. You served yourself and fell into simple conversations. Laughing and talking about whatever came to mind. And as the sun began to set you two grew closer, the chilled wind sending you closer to your friend. That comfortable silence returned as four eyes gazed into the sunset. Yet you looked up, seeing Donatello looking right at you. His face illuminated by the sun’s light and his soft smile made you melt.

“Hey” a soft whisper.

“Hey” a reply that grew to a smile.

“I want to talk to you about something.. and it’s nothing bad! I just..” you pulled away a bit getting a better look at him, he looked nervous and flustered.

“Listen I like you, like really like you. You’re smart and kind and you always make me smile. Your presence practically lights up the room. I enjoy talking to you and debating on society's new technological developments. But, i’d understand if you rejected me because I am a mutant turtle-“

Before he could continue you pulled his head down with an easy tug to the top of his plastron and your lips connected. As you pull back he’s looking at you with a doopy smile and an even more flustered face. You laugh and smile before. A churring sound coming from him.

“I like you too, and I don’t care that you're a giant mutant turtle! It’s cool that you are! Who can go around saying that their partner is a giant turtle who fights crime!”You lean into him as you talk. Hand being thrown out in front of you to emphasize your point. Donnie couldn’t object to that.

Your eyes looking back over the sunset. It couldn’t have gone any better.